A Quote by Lois Lowry
Always in the dream, it seemed as if there were a destination: a something--he could not grasp what-that lay beyond the place where the thickness of snow brought the sled to a stop. He was left, upon awakening, with the feeling that he wanted, even somehow needed, to reach the something that waited in the distance. The feeling that it was good. That it was welcoming. That it was significant. But he did not know how to get there.
Related Quotes
It was only my second night in Africa, yet something had begun to grow inside me which I could not stop, as if my childhood dreams had finally found the place where they could materialize. I had arrived where I was always meant to be. I did not know how it could be practically achieved, but I was certain beyond any shadow of a doubt that it was here that I wanted to live.
Guide to the world of the dead. When you are certain that the body has left you, feel sad for the good you didn’t get to do; then stop feeling sad and begin your journey to the past. Feel happy for the evil you didn’t get to do, then stop feeling happy and realize that what propels you is chance, which when you were going in the opposite direction seemed to you like order, or necessity.
I did not want to move. For I had the feeling that this was a place, once seen, that could not be seen again. If I left and then came back, it would not be the same; no matter how many times I might return to this particular spot the place and feeling would never be the same, something would be lost or something would be added, and there never would exist again, through all eternity, all the integrated factors that made it what it was in this magic moment.
The hardest thing [for me] is to 'just' agree, and that is what sparks creativity, the feeling that something can be better, the feeling that something's missing, the feeling that something's needed.
The pure air and dazzling snow belong to things beyond the reach of all personal feeling, almost beyond the reach of life.
Are people crazy? People waited all their lives. They waited to live, they waited to die. They waited in line to buy toilet paper. They waited in line for money. And if they didn't have any money they waited in longer lines. You waited to go to sleep and then you waited to awaken. You waited to get married and you waited to get divorced. You waited for it to rain, you waited for it to stop. You waited to eat and then you waited to eat again. You waited in a shrink's office with a bunch of psychos and you wondered if you were one.
There is no better feeling than the feeling that I have done something right. That feeling comes so rarely and is so fleeting that I can never really enjoy it. So in a way, it's not a good feeling at all.
The pure air and dazzling snow belong to things beyond the reach of all personal feeling, almost beyond the reach of life. Yet such things are a part of our life, neither the least noble nor the most terrible.
I think in L.A., in terms of the music scene, it's a really strange place. It's really hard to get the feeling that something's happening, or the feeling that something can make it out of there.
I've found a bit of success in my career, and I'm very relieved by it, but the success that comes after a book is published is never as happy as the feeling of writing, of knowing you've written something good, of feeling like you've had a worthwhile day in the chair. That's the best feeling I know, and as soon as writing stops making me feel that way, I'll stop doing it.
When I began designing my Spring '13 collection, it wasn't even Spring '12 yet. Snow was actually still on the ground in New York, but I knew I wanted this particular spring season to be freer, more colorful, easier, more about feeling good, and I wanted there to be a sexier feeling than we've been known for in the past.
When I was in 4th grade, my mom was diagnosed with oral cancer. It was not looking good, it was serious when they found it. Obviously, I didn't know much about what was going on. I remember feeling a lot of guilt about it, feeling like I somehow contributed to it. I think that's just something that kids often do.
But even in her laughter there was something missing. She never seemed to be truly happy; she just seemed to be passing time while she waited for something else. She was tired of just existing; she wanted to live.
His dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him.
You see it is important to understand how damaged people don't always know how to say yes, or to choose the big thing, even when it is right in front of them. It's a shame we carry. The shame of wanting something good. The shame of feeling something good. The shame of not believing we deserve to stand in the same room in the same way as all those we admire. Big red As on our chests.
We're all lonely for something we don't know we're lonely for. How else to explain the curious feeling that goes around feeling like missing somebody we've never even met?
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