Shelly > Shelly's Quotes

“The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

“Memories saturate my heart and
 the story of you spills from my eyes.

         ­­—Grace Andren”
― Grace Andren, Speaking In Tears: The Poetry In Grief

“The sorrow we feel when we lose a loved one is the price we pay to have had them in our lives.”
― Rob Liano

“I'm not going to limit myself just because people won't accept the fact that I can do something else.”
― Dolly Parton

“Find out who you are and do it on purpose.”
― Dolly Parton

“The moon is always jealous of the heat of the day, just as the sun always longs for something dark and deep.”
― Alice Hoffman , Practical Magic

“Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard, are sweeter”
― John Keats, Ode On A Grecian Urn And Other Poems

“An intellectual? Yes. And never deny it. An intellectual is someone whose mind watches itself. I like this, because I am happy to be both halves, the watcher and the watched. "Can they be brought together?" This is a practical question. We must get down to it. "I despise intelligence" really means: "I cannot bear my doubts.”
― Albert Camus

“In years to come, will they remember with nostalgia what must seem even now like a magnificent chorus of birdsong pouring down from the trees? Are we all, generation upon generation, destined to mourn what seems in this moment impossibly abundant but is already far on its way to being gone? The world will always be beautiful to those who look for beauty. Throats will always catch when the fleeing clouds part fleetingly and the golden moon flashes into existence and then winks out again. Tears will always spring up at the wood thrush singing through the echoing trees, at the wild geese crying as they fly. A soul touched by the scent of turned soil or sun-warmed grass, a spirit moved by crickets singing in the grass, will spend a lifetime surrounded by wonder even as songbirds drop one by one from the poisoned sky and crickets fall silent in the poisoned grass. Apocalyptic stories always get the apocalypse wrong. The tragedy is not the failed world's barren ugliness. The tragedy is its clinging beauty even as it fails. Until the very last cricket falls silent, the beauty besotted will find a reason to love the world.”
― Margaret Renkl, The Comfort of Crows: A Backyard Year