In like manner, if I let myself believe anything on insufficient evidence, there may be no great harm done by the mere belief; it may be true after all, or I may never have occasion to exhibit it in outward acts. But I cannot help doing this great wrong towards Man, that I make myself credulous. The danger to society is not merely that it should believe wrong things, though that is great enough; but that it should become credulous, and lose the habit of testing things and inquiring into them; for then it must sink back into savagery.

المرء لا يعرف أبدا ما الذي يمثله للآخرين، ولا بأية وسيلة مجانية ممكن أن يكسب أو يخسر عاطفة ما.

Friendship isn't partying with a group of people to get drunk or chatting with him/her once a week, it's exactly the opposite. Friends make sure you get home safely and they help you when you need it, no matter the scenario. They don't care about what clothes you wear or what you look like, and they don't last for a day. Real friends are more interested in what direction your life is headed rather than your popularity. They care about what you have to say and how you feel, and once you meet this person you'll know it without having to think twice.

Come, fly with me!" cried the goddess, as she sped ahead of them, her extremities flaming with a comet tail of sparks in the supernatural wind. Her bubbling voice again echoed, her laughter bounced in the crystalline void, and she flew onward, unto eternity...."Stop!" cried Elasirr. "Come back with us to the true world, O Tilirreh!"At which the orange one laughed, throwing her head back, saying, "Oh, but don’t you know this is the one true world? It is but yours that is a pale specter, that is the dying place of dwindling truth?""Then come back with us, lady," whispered Ranhé, "and restore the truth as it once was.

هكــذا دائمــاً هى الحيــاة .. بطيئــة فى تحقيق أحلامِنــا .. و هكـذ دائمــاً هو الموت .. سريع فى خطفِهــا منـــا ..

I would like to see you come undone.When you're laughing so hardthat your eyes crinkle at the cornersand your hand comes up to cover your mouth,like you're trying to conceal a secret.When you are overcome with a sadness so deep that your shoulders dropand all the weight leaves your body;you seem so fragile in those moments.When the late hours of the nightslowly creep into your wordsand all you reveal all the fears thatyou've had so long, but couldn't expressuntil you are drunken with sleepiness.When you love so passionately that I can feel it in every fiber of my being-there is nothing you do better.These are the times I've loved you the most.

Никога не ги карай да те обичат, дете мое... Настоявай да те оставят и знай че този, който устои и остане, те обича истински...

If he’s not calling you, it’s because you are not on his mind. If he creates expectations for you, and then doesn’t follow through on little things, he will do same for big things. Be aware of this and realize that he’s okay with disappointing you. Don’t be with someone who doesn’t do what they say they’re going to do. If he’s choosing not to make a simple effort that would put you at ease and bring harmony to a recurring fight, then he doesn’t respect your feelings and needs. “Busy” is another word for “asshole.” “Asshole” is another word for the guy you’re dating. You deserve a fcking phone call.

Tahun lalu kita reunian untuk yg pertama kalinya, tahun ini kita reunian lagi untuk yg kedua kalinya. Entah ada maksud apa yg mempertemukan kita hingga kita bisa sampai pdkt-an walau cuma terhitung satu hari. Kita tau kita saling suka, kita tau kita banyak bedanya, kita juga tau kita bahwa sebenarnya kita saling membutuhkan, tapi kita tetap milih untuk tidak bertahan pada perasaan, hingga sekarang kita sudah berjauhan dan kembali menjadi teman walau tidak seperti sungguhan. Ini semua terangkum karna aku yakin kamu mau bertahan walaupun kamu egoisan, dan aku yakin kamu pasti bosan dengan kelakuan aku, hingga suatu saat kamu pasti akan datang dan menyatakan, "kamu adalah yang aku butuhkan..." :')

This book says 'life isn't fair' and I'm telling you, one and all, you betterbelieve it. I got a fat spoiled son�he's not gonna nab Miss Rheingold. And he's always gonna be fat, evenif he gets skinny he'll still be fat and he'll still be spoiled and life will never be enough to make himhappy, and that's my fault maybe�make it all my fault, if you want�the point is, we're not created equal,for the rich they sing, life isn't fair. I got a cold wife; she's brilliant, she's stimulating, she's terrific; there'sno love; that's okay too, just so long as we don't keep expecting everything to somehow even out for usbefore we die.

...on opening the incubator I experienced one of those rare moments of intense emotion which reward the research worker for all his pains: at first glance I saw that the broth culture, which the night before had been very turbid was perfectly clear: all the bacteria had vanished... as for my agar spread it was devoid of all growth and what caused my emotion was that in a flash I understood: what causes my spots was in fact an invisible microbe, a filterable virus, but a virus parasitic on bacteria. Another thought came to me also, If this is true, the same thing will have probably occurred in the sick man. In his intestine, as in my test-tube, the dysentery bacilli will have dissolved away under the action of their parasite. He should now be cured.

في دستور الله و سنته أن الحرية مع الألم أكرم للانسان من العبودية مع السعادة ولهذا تركنا نخطيء ونتألم ونتعلم وهذه هي الحكمة في سماحه بالشر

I had another reason for seeking Him, for trying to espy His face, a professional one. God and literature are conflated in my mind. Why this is, I’m not sure. Perhaps because great books seem heavensent. Perhaps because I know that each nove is a puny but very valiant attempt at godlike behavior. Perhaps because there is no difference between the finest poetry and most transcendent mysticism. Perhaps because writers like Thomas Merton, who are able to enter the realm of the spirit and come away with fine, lucid prose. Perhaps because of more secular writers, like John Steinbeck, whose every passage, it seems to me, peals with religiousity and faith. It once occured to me that literature — all art really — is either talking to people about God, or talking to God about people.

الحيرة قدرنا لأن البني ادم هو الكائن الوحيد على الارض اللي بيحتار, لانه الكائن الوحيد اللي بيختار و عشان كده هو الكائن الوحيد اللي حيتحاسب.

—¿Y qué ocurre cuando uno muere?—Tampoco yo lo sé.—Entonces, ¿por qué tener miedo? —dice Oswald—. Yo creo que no ocurre nada.Y si ocurre algo que es mejor que nada, pues mejor que mejor.—¿Y si lo que ocurre es peor que nada? —le digo.—No existe nada peor que nada. Pero si no es nada, no podré saberlo porque yo no seré nada.Oyéndolo hablar así, siento que Oswald es un genio.—Pero, y si no existes, ¿qué? —le pregunto—. El mundo entero seguirá viviendosin ti. Como si nunca hubieras pasado por aquí. Y el día en que todas las personas que has conocido también hayan muerto, será como si nunca, nunca hubieras existido. ¿No teparece una pena que pase eso?—Si salvo a Max, no. Si lo salvo, existiré para siempre.