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Ikke gå dit veien fører deg. Gå i stedet dit hvor det ikke går noen vei og etterlat deg et spor

Godt sagt! (19) Varsle Svar

Hvor lenge skal du holde meg i skapet? spurte han. Det er mørkt her inne. Og jeg tråkker stadig vekk på skoene dine.

Godt sagt! (2) Varsle Svar

He's like a drug for you, Bella." His voice was still gentle, not at all critical. "I see that you can't live without him now. It's too late. But I would have been healthier for you. Not a drug; I would have been the air, the sun." The corner of my mouth turned up in a wistful half-smile. "I used to think of you that way, you know. Like the sun. My personal sun. You balanced out the clouds nicely for me." He sighed. "The clouds I can handle. But I can't fight with an eclipse.

Godt sagt! (3) Varsle Svar

-Vaksne gjer mykje dumt, Tonje, det skulle jammen eg vite, her eg sit og er full ein tysdag føremiddag. Han ristar på hovudet over seg sjøl. -Men det er ein viktig ting: Han snur seg mot henne. -Det er aldri barna sin feil. Nils bankar fingeren ned i kneet på Tonje då han seier det, som om han vil stemple orda inn i henne: Det -er -aldri -barna -sin -feil. -Kva er det som aldri er barna sin feil? spør Tonje andelaust. -Alt. Alt det galne vaksne gjer. Nils er heilt skråsikker i stemma.

Godt sagt! (12) Varsle Svar

Barn er larver og voksne er sommerfugler. Og ingen sommerfugler husker hvordan det føltes å være larve.

Godt sagt! (6) Varsle Svar

Voksne husker ikke hvordan det var å være barn. Selv om de påstår det. De vet det ikke lenger. Tro meg. De har glemt alt. Hvor mye større verden virket den gangen. At det kunne være så vanskelig å klatre opp på en stol. Hvordan føltes det alltid å se opp? Glemt. De vet ikke lenger. Du kommer også til å glemme det. Noen ganger snakker de voksne om hvor fint det var å være barn. De drømmer til og med om å være små igjen. Men hva drømte de om da de var barn? Vet du det? Jeg tror de drømte om endelig å bli voksne.

Godt sagt! (2) Varsle Svar

...Dull days at forty, false friends at fifteen;
Let her have brave days and truth.
Let her go places that we've never been;
Trust and delight in her youth.

Ladies of Grace, and Ladies of Favour,
And Ladies of Merciful Night,
This is a prayer for a Blueberry Girl,
Grant her your Clearness of Sight.

Words can be worrisome, people complex;
Motives and manners unclear.
Grant her the wisdom to choose her path right,
Free from unkindness and fear.

Let her tell stories, and dance in the rain,
Somersaults, tumble and run;
Her joys must be high as her sorrows are deep,
Let her grow like a weed in the sun...

Godt sagt! (0) Varsle Svar

She says nothing at all, but simply stares upward into the dark sky and watches, with sad eyes, the slow dance of the infinite stars.

Godt sagt! (3) Varsle Svar

"How do I know you'll keep your word?" asked Coraline.
"I swear it," said the other mother. "I swear it on my own mother's grave."
"Does she have a grave?" asked Coraline.
"Oh yes," said the other mother. "I put her in there myself. And when I found her trying to crawl out, I put her back."

Godt sagt! (14) Varsle Svar

What comes to your mind when you think of the word Transylvania, if you ponder it at all? What comes to my mind are mountains of savage beauty, ancient castles, werewolves, and witches - a land of magical obscurity. How, in short, am I to believe I will still be in Europe, on entering such a realm? I shall let you know if it's Europe or fairyland, when I get there.

Godt sagt! (2) Varsle Svar

Do you know the feeling when you start reading a new book before the membrane of the last one has had time to close behind you? You leave the previous book with ideas and themes–characters even–caught in the fibers of your clothes, and when you open the new book, they are still with you

Godt sagt! (3) Varsle Svar

There are too many books in the world to read in a single life time. You have to draw the line somewhere.

Godt sagt! (5) Varsle Svar

I have always been a reader; I have read at every stage of my life, and there has never been a time when reading was not my greatest joy. And yet I cannot pretend that the reading I have done in my adult years matches in its impact on my soul the reading I did as a child. I still believe in stories. I still forget myself when I am in the middle of a good book. Yet it is not the same. Books are, for me, it must be said, the most important thing; what I cannot forget is that there was a time when they were at once more banal and more essential than that. When I was a child, books were everything. And so there is in me, always, a nostalgic yearning for the lost pleasure of books. It is not a yearning that one ever expects to be fulfilled.

Godt sagt! (2) Varsle Svar

There is something about words. In expert hands, manipulated deftly, they take you prisoner. Wind themselves around your limbs like spider silk, and when you are so enthralled you cannot move, they pierce your skin, enter your blood, numb your thoughts. Inside you they work their magic.

Godt sagt! (7) Varsle Svar

Not all those who wonder are lost.

Godt sagt! (8) Varsle Svar

Short cuts make for long delays.

Godt sagt! (1) Varsle Svar

It cannot be seen, cannot be felt,
Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt,
It lies behind stars and under hills,
And empty holes it fills,
It comes first and follows after,
Ends life, kills laughter.

Godt sagt! (5) Varsle Svar

They stared at each other, wanting each other, drawn to each other, but their silent shout of love went unheard in the roar of misunderstanding, and the clatter of culturally ingrained beliefs.

Godt sagt! (1) Varsle Svar

Even the smallest person can change the course of the future.

Godt sagt! (21) Varsle Svar

The only thing you have to decide is what to do with time that is given to you.

Godt sagt! (30) Varsle Svar

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