But we may go further, and affirm most truly, that it is a mere and miserable solitude to want true friends; without which the world is but a wilderness.
It was a fine cancer experience, as cancer experiences go.
It took me years, but letting go of religion has been the most profound wake up of my life. I feel I now look at the world not as a child, but as an adult. I see what's bad and it's really bad. But I also see what is beautiful, what is wonderful. And I feel so deeply appreciative that I am alive. How dare the religious use the term 'born again. ' That truly describes freethinkers who've thrown off the shackles of religion so much better!
If I look over my life, every single step of maturing for me, every single one, has had the exact same common denominator: accepting what was true over what I wished were true.
Our family was too strange and weird for even Santa Claus to come visit. . . Santa, who was jolly - but, let's face it, he was also very judgmental.
My philosophy involves imaging terrible things happening all the time, and getting used to it, so reality isn't so bad. And then you're always happy. You really just have to think yourself through it. That is how I've been able to come to happiness, but it is a subtle difference between scaring yourself all the time with terrible things happening, it's more about actually about making peace with it. That's my advice.
Why isn't there a book about someone losing their faith and it being a beautiful experience?
It you want to be somebody, If you want to go some where, you've got to wake up and pay attention
I'm weird. I'm not too focused on the physicality of a man. They just have to become my best friend, and then I start to get attracted to them. I've never been in a bar and just hit on a guy and started kissing him; I've never done that in my life.
Harry: This book belongs to Harry Potter. Ron: Shared by Ron Weasley, because his fell apart. Hermione: Why don't you buy a new one then? Ron: Write on your own book, Hermione. Hermione: You bought all those dungbombs on Saturday. You could have bought a new book instead. Ron: Dungbombs rule.
If the skin were parchment and the blows you gave were ink, Your own handwriting would tell you what I think.