Wow Moment Quotes

“In all areas of your life, look for the multiplier opportunities where you can go a little further, push yourself a little harder, last a little longer, prepare a little better, and deliver a little bit more. Where can you do better and more than expected? When can you do the totally unexpected? Find as many opportunities for 'WOW,' and the level and speed of your accomplishments will astonish you... and everyone else around you.”
― Darren Hardy, The Compound Effect: Jumpstart Your Income, Your Life, Your Success

“While you’re alive there’s no time for minor amazements.”
― Alice Fulton

“Sonrió una vez más. Siempre sonreía como si las corridas de toros constituyeran un secreto especial entre nosotros, un secreto verdaderamente extraño, sorprendente y profundo que compartíamos nosotros dos. Sonreía siempre, como si aquel secreto nuestro tuviera algo de lascivo para los extraños, que nosotros entendíamos perfectamente, pero que no podía explicarse a los demás porque nadie lo entendería.”
― Ernest Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises

“I intend to keep fighting for a better future, even if it kills me”
― Danielle L. Jensen, The Bridge Kingdom

“She Taste the way she smells”
― Ali Hazelwood, Bride

“You believed a story, and that story was a lie. The Omens are not divine. They are mortals who are paid like kings to live like gods.”
― Rachel Gillig, The Knight and the Moth

“I love you!” he bellowed at me and his eyes turned black. “Happy now? I love you, okay? I love you
so fucking much that it hurts! It’s driving me insane! I loved you from the moment I saw you doing
your Miss Marple impression in those woods back at The Ragged Cove. But I could tell you were
sweet on Luke and hey, why not? He’s the good-looking one, right? I mean, I’m just the hired muscle.
I’m the one who gets everyone else out of the shit. But I couldn’t help my feelings, I’d never felt like
that before. So yeah, okay I stole a kiss from you in the gatehouse – big fucking deal! But you know
what? That was the biggest mistake of my life, because that one kiss from you drove me out of my tiny
freaking mind! So, I’m sorry if I give the boy a hard time and ain’t too gentle with the girl, but I’m not
going to sit back and watch you risk your life just so you can blow their noses and wipe their arses!”
I looked at Potter and he seemed almost out of breath after his rant. Once he had finished, he put out
his cigarette and lit another one. Standing, I looked at him and said, “Potter, I had no idea…”
“Ah, forget it,” he said, waving me away with his hand. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Besides, I’ll
be moving out at first light in search of Luke. Once I’ve rescued him, I’ll bring him to you in The
Hollows and you won’t have to see me again.”
― Tim O'Rourke, Vampire Breed

“What did you put in that coffee?” he asked with a frown.

Courtney laughed. “A little splash of happiness.”
― Latrivia S. Nelson

“You can't search for the truth with integrity if you're only looking to find the kind that benefits you.”
― Emily Bain Murphy, The Disappearances: A Magical Young Adult Fantasy of First Love and Dark Family Secrets in a Cursed Town

“To anyone who is brave enough to love me,
Do you know that the human body is approximately sixty percent water? When I walk into a room full of people all I see is an ocean.”
― Rudy Francisco, Helium

“You’ll never excite someone by doing something unexciting.”
― Frank Sonnenberg, Leadership by Example: Be a role model who inspires greatness in others

“The late afternoon sun illuminated the room with its brilliant light, but Tobias knew he would spend the rest of the day and night proving his love. But it would be the nights and days that followed this one that would continue to mend his soul. He’d won the biggest prize a man could ever win. The heart of a woman who possessed the strength to make him believe in himself and the ability to save him from his past. She was the mistress of his soul.”
― Monica Burns, His Mistress

“It’s a duress I’ll never regret succumbing to,” he murmured as his hands caressed the soft skin of her shoulders. “It gave me you. I never thought I could love someone so much that I’d be willing to let them go to keep them safe.”
― Monica Burns, His Mistress

“You don't need to have written a book to be quoted.”
― Natasha Muse

“Remember, whoever you are trying to please is accountable for his own life, and you are accountable for yours. Whenever you live for someone else, he controls two lives, his and yours. Yet we are the ones who will answer for the life that is truly ours - the only one God gives is.”
― Henry Cloud

“Nowadays AI indeed helps mankind to be better. In that case, AI has to become better than human. When AI is already better than human, I don't see any reason why AI will decide to coexist with human. When that time comes, fate of mankind won't be decided by human anymore.”
― Toba Beta, Master of Stupidity

“You saved my life and you weren’t even trying.”
― Colleen Hoover, It Ends with Us

“Pale lights illuminate The Seven’s inner chamber. Once bright, the lamps are overgrown, dimmed by a sheet of stone. The room is octagonal, one side for the supplicant, unadorned. Six others each house a figure, statue-like, covered from head to toe in a thick layer of rock. All appear human shaped, with discernible wings, their postures neutral, dead. The seventh alcove lies empty.

The Vagrant holds the sword up, letting it hum, calling, calling.

As if returning from a dream, The Seven respond, slowly, sonorously. Splitting the shells that cover them, yawning into life. One by one, they catch the call and return it, till the harmony swells, reverberating from the walls and leaping up, vanishing into the fathomless, ceilingless dark above.

Beautiful sounds mature, becoming words, musical, passed from one to the other, filling the chamber and the Vagrant’s ears.

‘Mourning has become morning, and we rejoice …’

‘We rejoice in the proximity of your flame once more …’

‘Once more we are Seven …’

‘Are Seven together, come …’

‘Come and join with us …’

‘Join with us your light, diminished but still bright.’

Six arms drift out, gesturing to the last alcove, inviting.

Neither Vagrant nor sword move. An eye studies the chamber, pausing at each alcove, noting the blades housed there, buried beneath layers of stone, useless. Rage simmers between sword and Vagrant. He takes a lock of hair from an inner pocket, throws it down on the floor between them. The sword lowers to point at it, then sweeps across the figures, then makes a hard stab towards the doors.

Six faces freeze as the joyous echoes of song die out.

The Vagrant swallows in a throat suddenly dry.

Vesper dares a quick peek from behind the Vagrant’s coat.

Alpha, of The Seven, sings out. The note begins wondrous but imperfect, the others soon match him.

‘We see now your pain, most furious …’

‘Most furious you are and desperate to fight …’

‘To fight once more, your desire …’

‘Your desire we grant, go forth, take a second flame to our enemies …’

Voices come together, their force rocking the Vagrant backwards until he is pinned to the wall. Vesper holds his hand tightly, little feet rising from the floor.

‘Do not stop …’

‘Stop when the cancer …’

‘Cancer is cut …’

‘Cut from the bones …’

‘Bones and flesh …’

‘Flesh of the land …’

‘Land is clean!’

The Vagrant closes his eyes, squeezes them tight. He braces himself against the sound, pulling Vesper behind him raising the sword in front. Silvered wings unfurl protectively, shielding his face. An eye widens, blazing with indignation.

‘Then …’

‘Then, then and only then …’

‘Only then will you be free …’

‘Be free to return to us …’

‘Return to us and rejoice …’

‘Rejoice for true, complete again. Immaculate.’

Six go quiet, demands echoing after. Vesper’s feet touch floor again and she wraps herself around a comforting leg.

In the Vagrant’s hand, the sword trembles, humming dangerously. He takes a deep breath. From the depths of his stomach something is forged, travelling inevitably, gaining force as it goes, following tubes behind ribs, up through the chest, into the throat, teeth parting, allowing it outside.

The Vagrant opens his eyes, they are full of weariness, disgust, conviction.

‘No.”
― Peter Newman

“Every time I think we’re on to something meaningful, it dissolves into nothing.”
― Carolyn Keene

“You told me once the mind is an ocean, and most of us live on the surface. But the currents beneath, that’s what moves everything around. The currents make the boats shift position in the night, pushing the waves against the shore just so.”
― Leslie Lutz , Fractured Tide

“Ice and fire might ravage the world, but still the cockroach survives”
― Danielle L. Jensen

“My writings have inspired reason, invention. My inkwell is a portent of things good or bad, but I have ever been an idol of knowledge. A symbol of truth. What is a god, if not that?”
― Rachel Gillig, The Knight and the Moth

“(...) leur lénifier l'esprit et en même temps le rendre plus rapide, paradoxalement, plus prompt aux raisonnements ou aux souvenirs, comme s'ils avaient gagné, non en concentration, mais en intelligence, une sensation que tous les deux connaissaient bien, et que tous les deux, retranchés dans leur tête ou dans leurs souvenirs le temps que dura le chemin jusqu'à l'étang et la cabane, savaient précaire, momentanée, en équilibre, en ce sens qu'ils savaient qu'il existe dans l'ivresse un point précis d'intelligence et de lucidité où les connexions se font plus vives, où les neurones sont stimulés et les synapses fusent, le temps du pic, avant de retomber inévitablement vers leur stade initial, puis vers un stade encore plus bas, pour finir con, complètement con, et ivre, bourré, pété, totalement schlass, comme si c'était là le revers de la médaille, comme si gagner cette forme d'agilité de l'esprit se payait forcément, et qu'il fût tout naturel de retomber encore plus bas ; mais pour l'instant leur cerveau était vif, Max repensait à sa rencontre, ou plutôt à sa vision de la veille, à l'effroyable et merveilleux tatouage de cette jeune femme, et il pensa comprendre exactement pourquoi elle s'était fait tatouer un truc pareil, ou du moins comprit-il, par ce tatouage, cette jeune femme était, il comprit que cette fresque le long de son bras gauche de son épaule et de sa clavicule était le signe d'une sensibilité et d'une force extrêmes, à fleur de mais en même temps d'une peur, une et une force sensibles et radicales, oui, car comment inscrire dans sa chair, à vie, à vif, autant d'horreur et de beauté sinon par sensibilité et radicalité, ce devait être une sacrée nana, "il faut que je retourne au Club Z, la revoir au moins une fois", et ce même s'il savait n'avoir pas l'ombre d'une chance avec cette fille, qu'il ne saurait toujours pas comment faire pour l'accoster, il me faut une astuce, un truc pour briser la glace et lui parler la prochaine fois, pensa-t-il en marchant toujours sur ce sentier, échafaudant des plans les uns derrière les autres, titubant légèrement aux côtés de Théo, qui lui aussi était plongé dans les sillons de son ivresse, évitant une branche une ronce ou un tronc d'arbre en travers du chemin, se rappelant ses promenades en forêt, gamin, où il avait appris à reconnaître certaines plantes, certains champignons et certains arbres : les frênes et les bouleaux, les hêtres les chênes et quelques arbres fruitiers tels que noyers et cerisiers, pommiers et noisetiers, ensuite comment son père lui avait expliqué la manière de mouler l'empreinte d'un animal, avec un peu de plâtre le tour était joué, seulement Théo se rappela qu'ils ne l'avaient jamais fait, ils n'étaient jamais revenus avec la dose de plâtre requise pour mouler une empreinte, non, et puis plus tard il s'en allait marcher tout seul, vers ses combien ?, huit ou neuf ans, oui, c'était cela, putain il y a déjà dix ans, se dit Théo, et il se revit, les matins de vacances, chez son grand-père et sa grand-mère, dans la rosée et dans la brume bleutée, il se levait à l'aube et allait faire "le tour du bois", pendant une heure une heure et demie, avant de revenir quand tout le monde se réveillait, alors son père et lui allaient chercher pain couques et pistolets pour le petit déjeuner, et toujours ses retours du bois plongeaient Théo dans une sorte de tristesse ou de mélancolie qu'il ne comprenait pas, pourquoi revenait-il de ses balades mélancolique, il l'ignorait, mais s'ensuivaient inévitablement de longues après-midi très tristes, comme si un truc lui échappait, comme s'il avait cherché ou essayé de chercher quelque chose de caché, d'invisible, au fond de lui-même ou dans le bois d'où il était revenu, oui, comme s'il y avait quelque chose dans l'existence qu'il ne parvenait pas à trouver, une certaine cohérence, un sens, une signification, cela le remplissait de tristesse, il devait forcément y avoir un sens à tout cela (...)”
― Célestin de Meeûs, Mythologie du .12