star

It was dark now, and broodingly sluggish. Like something supine waiting to spring, with just the tip of its tail twitching. Leaves stood still on the trees. An evil green star glinted in the black sky like a hostile eye, like an evil spying eye.("For The Rest Of Her Life")

An admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish disposition on the charge of a star!

White stars don't mix with the dark blackness of the universe. If they did... everything would be grey

The next time that you find yourself surrounded by darkness, I hope that you will consider that you need not necessarily look to the night skies in search of a guiding star to offer hope. You don__ essentially have to depend on a shooting star as a prospect or token that you__e now able to make a wish that may actually stand a chance of coming to pass.

Imagine, if you will:A bright yellow star lit the darkness somewhere in deep space, accompanied by its rather dysfunctional family of nine deceptively ordinary-looking planets. During its enormously long lifetime many beings had named it from the far ends of distant telescopes, including it into numerous star clusters and constellations as they were perceived from their vantage points. Once, or maybe twice, creatures simply looked up into their own skies to name it from their own now long dead and deserted worlds. In more recent times, beings from a world that orbited a different sun far away gave it a name too _ creatures that called themselves Human, who travelled here and settled on one of its inner planets. The planet they chose to make a new home on? They called that Deanna. They called the star Ramalama.

...nothing wonderful lasted forever. Joy was as fleeting as a shooting star that crossed the evening sky, ready to blink out at any moment.

An unknown force is calling mePerhaps the voice of that star perched on the last heightPerhaps the desire to see the spaces that conceal Europe

Master, take me in along with these people." Jesus answered and said, "Your star has led you astray, Judas.

Haven__ you got any romance in your soul?_ said Magrat plaintively. __o,_ said Granny. 'I ain__. And stars don__ care what you wish, and magic don__ make things better, and no one doesn__ get burned who sticks their hand in a fire. If you want to amount to anything as a witch, Magrat Garlick, you got to learn three things. What__ real, what__ not real, and what__ the difference.

Stars are much further away from where they are now for those who have no dreams and no intentions to reach them!

Be strong, little one. There's a reason you are here. Like anyone with a dream, you have a purpose, big or small. Never lose hope that your glowing star will one day join the sky of winners. Never--stop believing.

Develop what you have. Project it to the world. God will put a star up there on you. Then the wise men will look for you as they looked for Christ. They are going to bring the gold, the frankinsence and the myrrh. Even if you are hiding in the sheep's pen, they will find you once the star directs them!

Meradinis! Turtle Island! It was a little corner of chaos!This was the scene the speeding black ship had left behind three days ago, fleeing in humiliating shame, those three days a constant running battle. For three days the accursed Imperial ship Indomitable had followed, firing on them at every opportunity. Death or imprisonment now awaited those who called themselves Corsairs _ and though this death was now more certain rather than just a possibility, Sona Kilroy, or __he Hammer_ as he was called by his men, was not prepared to give up his freedom so easily. Piracy was his life and he__ known no other. He was tough and cruel, a despicable man, a case in point when academics quoted the barbarism by which the Corsairs had made themselves known and feared across the star systems of the peaceful Terran Empire.

A celebrity starts being a cele-crazy when he's seen often, he's just like the ordinary man in the streets. Without much ado to shout his name, i go my way.

One night when we were lying under the stars together she pointed to this beaming bright star beside the moon and said wherever she was in the world, whether we were together or apart, that I should remember her with that star because it would always be there-that it was her with me.

On any given night the stars are endless losses or endless gains. One for the love you experience and one for the love you lose. One for the unfulfilled wish and one for the wish yet to come.

A writer out of loneliness is trying to communicate like a distant star sending signals. He isn't telling, or teaching, or ordering. Rather, he seeks to establish a relationship with meaning, of feeling, of observing. We are lonesome animals. We spend all our live trying to be less lonesome. And one of our ancient methods is to tell a story, begging the listener to say, and to feel, "Yes, that's the way it is, or at least that's the way I feel it. You're not as alone as you thought." To finish is sadness to a writer, a little death. He puts the last word down and it is done. But it isn't really done. The story goes on and leaves the writer behind, for no story is ever done.

Faith is, believing there is still a star out there to wish on, just for you, tucked away behind dark clouds.