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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #dialogue
Darling, I don't want you; I've got no place for you; I only want what you give. I don't want the whole of anyone.... What you want is the whole of me-isn't it, isn't it?-and the whole of me isn't there for anybody. In that full sense you want me I don't exist. ↗
We define our identity always in dialogue with, sometimes in struggle against, the things our significant others want to see in us. Even after we outgrow some of these others—our parents, for instance—and they disappear from our lives, the conversation with them continues within us as long as we live. ↗
#dialogue #life #parents #self #self-identity
Tears fled her eyes as she ran, and they slid into her ears, but she did not wipe them, no, she pressed forward through the many trees, keeping her eyes upon the large shadow that flew forward, almost guiding her out of the woods, but that was preposterous – so why am I following it? What do you mean why are you following it? It’s the only thing that’s putting distance between you and those...monsters back there! But what about Lord Delacroix? What the devil about him? He tried to keep you safe – he truly did attempt to save you— And what did that get him? Crushed by a damned Lycan – again! But I should still go back to save him.... I should keep moving! But he’s saved my life – I can’t let him die! Technically, he’s already dead, Alexi.... Goddamn it all! Run – run now – come back when you’re safe! Come back? With who?! Help, of course! Where on Earth am I going to find help?! ↗
#fantasy #fear #internal-dialogue #the-delacroix-series #the-immortal-s-guide
Don’t be fooled by clever hands, sir” the Sunlight Man said. He’d be lying with the back of his head on his hands, as he always lay. “Entertainment’s all very well, but the world is serious. It’s exceedingly amusing, when you think about it: nothing in life is as startling or shocking or mysterious as a good magician’s trick. That’s what makes stagecraft deadly. Listen closely, friend. You see great marvels performed on the stage - the lady sawed in half, the fat man supported by empty air, the Hindu vanishing with the folding of a cloth - and the subtlest of poisons drifts into your brain: you think the earth dead because the sky is full of spirits, you think the hall drab because the stage is adazzle with dimestore gilt. So King Lear rages, and the audience grows meek, and tomorrow, in the gray of old groceries, the housewife will weep for Cordelia and despair for herself. They weren’t fools, those old sages who called all art the Devil’s work. It eats the soul. ↗