#var

I don't sell enough books to pay for the lawyers, however. And these various problems finally became too much. ↗

— Peter Sotos

#books #enough #finally #however #i

The idea that seeing life means going from place to place and doing a great variety of obvious things is an illusion natural to dull minds. ↗

— Charles Horton Cooley

#dull #going #great #idea #illusion

Robert Taylor was not only a splendid actor in a wide variety of roles but one of the most handsome men in the western world. ↗

— Audrey Meadows

#handsome #men #most #only #robert

The essence of the beautiful is unity in variety. ↗

— Felix Mendelssohn

#essence #unity #variety

I was set free, because my greatest fear had already been realized, and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored, and I had an old typewriter and a big idea. And so rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life. ↗

— J.K. Rowling

#life

The whole point about becoming an actor is variety and changing roles. ↗

— Richard Wilson

#actor #becoming #changing #point #roles

Granted there are only seven stories in the universe. And I agree with that. But give me a great variation of those stories. And literate. ↗

— Debra Winger

#give #give me #granted #great #i

He- that's Simon Bolivar - 'was shaken by the overwhelming revelation that the headlong race between his misfortunes and his dreams was at that moment reaching the finish line. The rest was darkness. Damn it,' he sighed. 'How will I ever get out of this labyrinth!'' So what's the labyrinth?' I asked her... That's the mystery, isn't it? Is the labyrinth living or dying? Which is he trying to escape- the world or the end of it? ↗

— John Green

#dreams

Almost every one of my various zero numbered birthdays has had a big concert in London and often in Paris. ↗

— Elliott Carter

#big #birthdays #concert #every #had

Is — is any of this real?" she asked. "Are you real?" He lifted a hand to her cheek, his fingers brushing her jaw. "Even if this is a dream," he whispered, "I'm not." Isobel's eyes widened, recognizing those words as her own, the same ones she had once uttered to him. She reached for him, her arms twining around his neck, drawing him closer so his scent poured over her, that combination of incense, citrus, and dried leaves overriding the funeral funeral smell of the crowding flowers. "Don't leave," she breathed. "I'm here," he whispered. "Right here. Waiting. ↗

— Kelly Creagh

#varen-nethers #dreams