A Quote by Rhys Bowen

You know what rumors are like-like a jar full of moths. Once they escape, they're all over the place. — © Rhys Bowen
You know what rumors are like-like a jar full of moths. Once they escape, they're all over the place.
You take a handful of rocks and put them in a jar. Then once a week, you take one tiny pebble out of the jar and throw it away. When the jar is empty, why, you'll just about be over your grief. ... Time alone will do if you're short on rocks.
There have been rumors and rumors and rumors about my love life. That's the one area that I really like to hold close to my heart.
I'm a big fan of money. I like it, I use it, I have a little. I keep it in a jar on top of my refrigerator. I'd like to put more in that jar. That's where you come in.
The space that I can call mine.. is so small that my ideas have become small. I am like a caterpillar in a cocoon of paper; all around me are sketches for sculptures, small drawings that seem like moths fluttering against the windows, beating their wings to escape from this tiny space.. Every day the ideas come more reluctantly, as though they know I will starve them and stunt their growth.
There are rumors, rumors, rumors. I'm always the last one to know about these things, literally.
I look sad because I don't have the courage to escape from you. And I think I don't want to understand the truth: for you, I am nothing but a dream. You like to play with life, you're not afraid of anything, not even of me. But I want you to know that I am not an object or a doll: I don't change faces on command, I like to sit down every day in the same place, on my own chair, and I know that you, you like to leave, to go to a new place every day.
Mmm, I love Yoda. I didn't like Jar Jar Binks though, he was all wrong.
Like a jar you housed the infinite tenderness, and the infinite oblivion shattered you like a jar.
until you have, once at least, faced everything you know - the whole universe - with utter giving in, and let all that is 'not you' flow over and engulf you, there can be no lasting sense of security. Only by being prepared to accept annihilation can one escape from that spiritual 'abiding alone' which is in fact the truly death-like state.
I feel like rumors get crazy and people blow up the whole internet with news. I feel like, once you're doing a job, you shouldn't talk about it.
When the heart is full of joy, it always allows its joy to escape. It is like the fountain in the marketplace; whenever it is full it runs away in streams, and so soon as it ceases to overflow, you may be quite sure that it has ceased to be full. The only full heart is the overflowing heart.
I think that pretty much every form of fiction (I’d include fantasy, obviously) can actually be a real escape from places where you feel bad, and from bad places. It can be a safe place you go, like going on holiday, and it can be somewhere that, while you’ve escaped, actually teaches you things you need to know when you go back, that gives you knowledge and armour and tools to change the bad place you were in. So no, they’re not escapist. They’re escape.
Finding balance in life is perhaps the greatest challenge of this generation, especially for women. I've decided that I need to compartmentalize my life better. From the time my kids get home until after dinner, I put my phone away. If I pick it up, my kids call me on it, and I have to put money in the "phone jar." When the phone jar gets full, the kids can spend the money on fun family outings, like going to a movie or going to their favorite restaurant. This unplugged time has helped me to be more mindful and give them my full attention.
Greece has got something like 1,400 islands. There is so much of Greece you can't know even if you're Greek. It's sprinkled out all around the edge of the Aegean, all over the place. It's already a secret place wherever you go, even if it's somewhere huge like Athens or Corinth. The place enchanted me.
How could you not know?" His voice was full of wonderment. "You changed me utterly. You were like a...like a bright, wonderful bloom in a garden full of weeds. Like a graceful capital on a page of plain script, a letter decorated with the deepest, finest colors in all Erin. Like a flame, Caitrin. Like a song.
I love a jar of cockles. I love anything in vinegar - beetroot, little silverskin onions, cornichons - I'm forever grazing on stuff like that, fingers in a jar.
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