I'm pretty much a workaholic, but when you're doing what you love it's hard to think of a reason to stop.
One cannot quite trust the word of potted flowers," thought the butterfly; "they have too much to do with men.
The whole world is a series of miracles, but we're so used to them we call them ordinary things.
Just living is not enough. . . one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.
Life itself is the most wonderful fairy tale.
To move, to breathe, to fly, to float, To gain all while you give, To roam the roads of lands remote, To travel is to live.
Everything you look at can become a fairy tale and you can get a story from everything you touch.
When you observe yourself reacting to what are minor things in your life, you will find that the mechanism is the same as when major things seem to go wrong in your life and there is upset.
It's just like I get this identity crisis: my body doesn't want to write, my mind doesn't want to write. Nothing about me wants to write, but I force myself to sit there and try. Nothing happens.
But all our differences hardly measure up to the values we all hold in common.
Can I help you with something?" Clary turned instant traitor against her gender. "Those girls on the other side of the car are staring at you. " Jace assumed an air of mellow gratification. "Of course they are," he said, "I am stunningly attractive.