Shut up!" I say, holding my hands to my ears. "Shut up!"But the stupid gummy won't shut up; he's trying to tell me something important even though I'm covering my ears and I don't want to hear it and I don't want to think about who I am or what's wrong with me or why I'm out here at the edge of the Urb, at the edge of the known world, listening to some old mope who's so crazy, he think about the future when everyone knows that the future doesn't exist.

A man actually has two Gods. The one, created him and the other, he created. Nature is not the first God but the first God exists in and as a part of the nature; a man with the help his reason creates a God against the forces of nature that are perceived to be as threat, hence the second God. The second God is the property of an individual mind that created it. A child has no reason and hence it has no second God; but it has the first God not yet known to it because the fear is not felt by the child! The first God is felt and known due to the fear ingrained in the instinct and the second God is the surrender and prayer brought out by the reason!

A lifetime, one might say, of loss, but we here recognize something much different, more nuanced, more full of shadows. A lifetime of hope. And anyone who's done both - hoped and lost - knows that in many ways, hoping is worse....As I grew into early adulthood and observed a larger pattern of hope and loss and hope and loss and hope and loss, and the concurrent resilience thereof, I came to a begrudging conclusion: neither of these things - hope and loss - can exist without the other, and yet at every turn it is necessary to believe that at some point one will ultimately conquer. And that will be our legacy.

YOU WERE MY FAVORITE THING AND IN IMAGINATION YOUR DEATH WILL NOT EXIST IT IS ALL 'AS IF' FROM NOW ONAS IF YOU ARE NOT GONEYOU WILL BE THE GIRL BESIDE MENEVER MORE THAN A HEARTBEAT LENGTH AWAYTHE WOMAN WHO WILL BE THE HILL OF MY BED A CLIMB TO THE TOPAND SUCH VIEWS TO MAKE LITTLE THINGS OFLITTLE US THAT WILL BE PART YOU AND PART MEAND WHOLE IN THOSE TWO THINGSAS IF YOU ARE NOT GONE AND WILL BE WITH ME TO GET THE WRINKLES THE WHITE HAIRTHE SPINE SHAPED LIKE A ROCKING CHAIRAS IF YOU ARE NOT GONE AND SO WILL HAVE THE LOVE OF GOING IN MY ARMSWARM AND WITH MEYES, YOU ARE MY FAVORITE THINGYOU ALWAYS WILL BE.

I figured out when I was young that things don’t make you happy, people don’t make you happy. Only by finding that which always existed inside you will you know what happiness is. Life is transitory, we all come and go. Things are gained, lost or eventually breakdown. Having a mind and heart that fosters good will toward others, a soul that seeks to elevate itself above human designs, only then will we be able to know our TRUE SELVES. None of us are born who we are but we can become who we are meant to be.

I can't find a man I want, and I'm beginning to think the problem is me. Maybe I expect too much. Maybe I'm holding out for something that doesn't even exist." She'd voiced her secret fear. Maybe grand passion was just a dream. With all the kissing she'd done in the past few months, she'd not once been overcome with desire. Her parents certainly hadn't had any great passion between them. Come to think of it, she wasn't sure she'd ever seen grand passion outside of a movie theater or a book.

In a sense, I am a moralist, insofar as I believe that one of the tasks, one of the meanings of human existence—the source of human freedom—is never to accept anything as definitive, untouchable, obvious, or immobile. No aspect of reality should be allowed to become a definitive and inhuman law for us. We have to rise up against all forms of power—but not just power in the narrow sense of the word, referring to the power of a government or of one social group over another: these are only a few particular instances of power. Power is anything that tends to render immobile and untouchable those things that are offered to us as real, as true, as good

The instant that you forget about the consequences of your actions on other people, is the moment that you are about to lose your humanity. We all are related, no matter, what skin color, sexual orientation, gender or religion we hold. We all like rosary beads. Our existence is depended to the rest, if one bead falls apart, the rest of us will do too. Our humanity defines by how we accept, respect and support each other, otherwise we are simply a bunch of animals acting according to our instinct and killing one another to survive.

We always underestimated our own participation in magic. That is, we thought of magic as something that existed with or without us. But that’s not true. Things are not magical because they’ve been conjured for us by some outside force. They are magical because we create them, and then deem them so. Ryan and Avery will say the first moment they spoke, the first moment they danced, was magical. But they were the ones—no one else, nothing else—who gave it the magic. We know. We were there. Ryan opened himself to it. Avery opened himself to it. And the act of opening was all they needed. That is the magic.

There are always people who find their lives have become so unsupportable they believe the best thing they could do would be to hasten their transition to another plane of existence.""They kill themselves, you mean?" said Bod. He was about eight years old, wide-eyed and inquisitive, and he was not stupid."Indeed.""Does it work? Are they happier dead?""Sometimes. Mostly, no. It's like the people who believe they'll be happy if they go and live somewhere else, but who learn it doesn't work that way. Wherever you go, you take yourself with you. If you see what I mean.