#memoir

I can see you have a great deal of water in your personality. Water never waits. It changes shape and flows around things, and finds the secret paths no one else has thought about -- the tiny hole through the roof or the bottom of the box. There's no doubt it's the most versatile of the five elements. It can wash away earth; it can put out fire; it can wear a piece of metal down and sweep it away. Even wood, which is its natural complement, can't survive without being nurtured by water. And yet, you haven't drawn on those strengths in living your life, have you? ↗

— Arthur Golden

#change

Doubt is a lot like faith; A mustard's seed worth changes everything. ↗

— Donna Johnson

#humorous #literary-memoir #religion-meaning #change

Love was like notches on a speaker that could be cranked up and down, the decibels of desire, the frequencies of feeling. Sometimes she thought that she might have cranked it all the way up and broken the dial before the music had even started. ↗

— Alice Pung

#memoir #love

With a nearly desperate sense of isolation and a growing suspicion that I lived in an alien land, I took to the road in search of places where change did not mean ruin and where time and men and deeds connected. ↗

— William Least Heat-Moon

#travel #change

لا يمكن للحب أن يكون مبكرًا أبدًا ↗

— Isabel Allende

#memoir #love

As an adult, getting paid thousands of dollars a week to say, “Aye, Sir. Course laid in” is a seriously sweet gig, but when I was a teenager, it sucked. ↗

— Wil Wheaton

#humor #memoir #star-trek #life

She hops expectantly into the sink. I turn on the tap for her; she laps without a glance in my direction, like a duchess so used to being ministered to that she no longer notices the servants and sees only a world where objects dumbly bend to her wishes, doors opening, faucets discharging cool water, delicious things appearing in her dish. ↗

— Peter Trachtenberg

#memoir #love

She had always thought the word 'pheromones' made it sound as though molecules were floating in the air, shaped like little fluted horns, ready to attach themselves to the nearest target. Microscopic Edison phonographs flying about, their brassy mouths puckered to sucker onto bare unsuspecting skin. These were what he sent out to her. The pheromones. The eyeless babies of energy. ↗

— Alice Pung

#lust #memoir #love

I try to walk around without being noticed but I can’t help attracting attention with my pink Mohawk, black clothing and steel toes, and often I’m with Holly and we’re both tall and arrogant. ↗

— Jo Treggiari

#fierce-ink-press #memoir #love

Chris didn’t need to learn how to conquer fear. He had to embrace it, walk with it and listen to it. ↗

— Michelle Tackabery

#inspirational #memoir #inspirational