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“You create more space in your life when you turn your excess baggage to garbage.”
― Chinonye J. Chidolue

“Be the one to stand out in the crowd,
Be the one to go where they’d rather not.
Beautiful things don’t beg for a chance to glow
They throw out their lights and just shine out loud!”
― Chinonye J. Chidolue

“There comes a time in your life when you have to choose between giving up and staying strong, when situations will try to predict your fate, when friends will depart from you and your echo will be your only companion. When that time comes, remember just why you fought so hard to get to where you are. What is life that it should threaten your faith and who is man that you should clinch onto for happiness?You have a destination. Remember this!”
― Chinonye J. Chidolue

“You bear a significant importance to humanity. You exist to complete the mold. Each step you take, great or little is important to your self-growth and success. Don't be hard on yourself when things don't go right or when the journey seems tough. You have not just one extra year but an entire lifetime to keep trying until you get it right. Please be good to yourself by keeping hope alive always. It's not about the new year. It's about you!”
― Chinonye J. Chidolue

“There comes a time in your life when you have to choose between giving up and staying strong, when situations will try to predict your fate, when friends will depart from you and your echo will be your only companion. When that time comes, remember just why you fought so hard to get to where you are. What is life that it should threaten your faith and who is man that you should clinch onto for happiness? You have a destination. Remember this!”
― Chinonye J. Chidolue

“And for the partridge there was the sun suddenly shut out, the foul flailing blackness spreading wings above, the roar ceasing, the blazing knives driving in, the terrible white face descending â€� hooked and masked and horned and staring-eyed. And then the back-breaking agony beginning, and snow scattering from scuffling feet, and snow filling the bill’s wide silent scream, till the merciful needle of the hawk’s beak notched in the straining neck and jerked the shuddering life away.

And for the hawk, resting now on the soft flaccid bulk of his prey, there was the rip and tear of choking feathers, and hot blood dripping from the hook of the beak, and rage dying slowly to a small hard core within.

And for the watcher, sheltered for centuries from such hunger and such rage, such agony and such fear, there is the memory of that sabring fall from the sky, and the vicarious joy of the guiltless hunter who kills only through his familiar, and wills him to be fed.”
― J.A. Baker, The Peregrine