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“مشكلة الكلمات أنها تمدنا بإحساس وهمي أننا نَفهم ونُفهم، ولكن عندما نستدير ونقف وجهاً لوجه أمام أقدارنا نجد أن الكلمات لا تكفي.”
― باولو كويلو Paulo Coelho

“I never wanted to be alone, but I always opted for loneliness. I am an emotional, sensitive and expressive creature. I cannot detach my feelings, never could I control. I fall in love and I can be easily broken.”
― M.F. Moonzajer

“ها قد امتلأ الرق، وما انتهت الذكريات التي صيرتها الكتابة حاضرا يعاش مرتين، غير أنني أراها على نحو جديد كلما مضت السنون، وكلما استرجعتني من الماضي البعيد...وها هو عقد التذكر ينفرط مني، ويكاد خيط التدبر ينقطع.”
― يوسف زيدان, عزازيل

“Remember, the village idiot was the spiritual man who built the ark and saved his family. Keep being you and never give up marching to the beat of your own drum!”
― Shannon L. Alder

“To me sometimes a mute sky is more expressive than the roaring sea”
― Munia Khan

“I enjoyed writing. Perhaps it was because I hardly heard the sound of my own voice. My written words were my voice, speaking, singing, ... I was there on the page”
― Jenny Moss, Shadow

“There is no greater path than the act of listening, because the observer who listens can begin to see themselves as a part of one expression of purpose and beingness.”
― Bryant McGill, Simple Reminders: Inspiration for Living Your Best Life

“I couldn't help but let out a great sigh when I heard this; and I call it a great sigh because it contained many smaller sighs within it - one sigh of disappointment, one of frustration, one of sadness. . . and I don't know what else”
― Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha

“But I also watched him closely, waiting to see that love of food. The surprised delight on his face when he took his first slurp of the brisket ramen, enjoying the tender shreds of savory meat, the chew of the crinkly noodles, the light but complex broth that hid the reveal of a plush matzah ball with a thick corn flavor. The concentration as he tried to place the flavor of the rub on the bowl of shredded carnitas that we portioned out ourselves and wrapped in marbled rye tortillas with tiny sour pickles and thinly sliced red onions and shreds of Havarti cheese. ("It's a pastrami sandwich," he murmured as he took the first bite.) The sheer pleasure as he closed his eyes while chewing the duck, rosy and meaty in the middle and crispy-skinned on the outside, in one perfect bite with pickled and fresh beets.
I didn't have to look hard. It radiated out of his very soul.”
― Amanda Elliot, Best Served Hot