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— Maggie Stiefvater"I just looked at her, feeling utterly empty. I didn't know what I was supposed to say to her. My life is in that bed. Please let me stay."
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Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed The dear repose for limbs with travel tired; But then begins a journey in my head To work my mind, when body's work's expir'd: For then my thoughts-from far where I abide- Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee, And keep my drooping eyelids open wide, Looking on darkness which the blind do see: Save that my soul's imaginary sight Presents thy shadow to my sightless view, Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night, Makes black night beauteous and her old face new. Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind, For thee, and for myself no quiet find.
— William Shakespeare
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When a mother asked her small child how he fell out of bed, he answered, "Because I wasn't in far enough." Let me just say in passing that it has been my experience that most people who fall out of the Church do so because they were not in far enough.
— Marvin J. Ashton
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