Quotes And More Quotes

He had done nothing on Christmas day, just wandered around outside in the frozen woods. Hard ground, chill winds and bare branches that looked like they'd been dipped in sugar. None of it seemed real, like walking around in a desolate dream, but one he didn't want to wake up from..........RD Ronald, The Elephant Tree

I’m tired of pretending, tired of acting like everything’s okay, tired of not being with him…..........Terra Elan McVoy, The Summer Of Firsts And Lasts

It belonged to the boy and I hold on to it tightly because I can no longer hold on to HIM tightly

It lays buried for 11 months of every year

Silently waiting for me to find it and hold it and caress it

It sits on the tree amid the glistening lights
A silent reminder of a time long and longer and longest ago

A time that will not ever happen again................Me

The trouble with living alone, she had discovered-and the reason why most people she knew didn't like to be alone even for a little while-was that the longer you lived alone, the louder the voices on the right side of your brain got..........Stephen King, The Tommyknockers

They all knew this, but this didn't stop them from good-naturedly crowding around the front door every time it opened, every single time, despite the fact that they were never -EVER- let into the house. I loved this particularly fine thing about dogs: Despite a lifetime of denied entrance, hope never died in their hearts.............Jacqueline Kelly, The Evolution Of Calpurnia Tate

You are a nomad, a wanderer - just like me. You roam the desert and I roam the world. What’s the difference between us?..............Linda Ruth Horowitcz, While The Sands Whisper

In a heartbeat, he understands why religions are born on the sands – there is nothing here for a man but his own mind...............Sara Sheridan

You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintery light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person died for no reason..........Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast