stories

There's magic in stories, magic in hope, and magic in coming together. I have learnt from people's stories, been inspired by their hope, and been strengthened by their coming together.

What the famous big blue Boy Scout told to a green Kryptonite? What?? YOU rock!

Each book is a mind alive, a life revealed, a world awaiting exploration, but living people are all those things, as well__nd more, because their stories haven__ yet been completely told.

God is up to something, but you will never know unless you figure out the difference between who is the messenger carrying your future and who is the person holding you back.

When you hear a true story, there is a part of you that responds to it regardless of art, regardless of evidence. Let it be the most obvious fabrication and you will still believe whatever truth is in it, because you can not deny truth no matter how shabbily it is dressed.

I don't like the word 'allegorical', I don't like the word 'symbolic' - the word I really like is 'mythic', and people always think that means 'full of lies', whereas of course what it really means is 'full of truth which cannot be told in any other way but a story'.

Within every elaborate lie, a kernel of truth.

Stories are the thing which shapes our kinky and wicked minds.

My grandma loved to be on stage entertaining people._ She loves to make people smile and laugh._ She loves to brighten other people's day._ She often calls perfect strangers her angel, as a way of witnessing, but also to encourage and build their self-esteem.

You will never know the moon or stars, unless you breathe in their solar system and inspect it from many diverse vantage points as possible.

Stop entertaining two faced people. You know the ones who have split personalities and untrustworthy habits. Nine times out of ten if they telling you stuff about another person, they're going to tell your business to other people. If they say, "You know I heard........." More than likely it's in their character to share false information. Beware of your box, circle, square! Whatever you want to call it.

A sweet kiss on her head made her little heart swell; she had pancakes, her dog. She had love. All was well.

I have fallen in love with the stories of our lives, our everyday mythologies. How will they unfold? What will become of us?

Everybody has a story. It__ like families. You might not know who they are, might have lost them, but they exist all the same. You might drift apart or you might turn your back on them, but you can__ say you haven__ got them. Same goes for stories.

Each of us has a family tree full of stories inside of us, Dirk thought. Each of us has a story blossoming out of us.

The stories people tell you about themselves seem to retain the possibility of being false. But what you discover about them by yourself seems to be the truth.

Well, it seems to me that there are books that tell stories, and then there are books that tell truths... The first kind, they show you life like you want it to be. With villains getting what they deserve and the hero seeing what a fool he's been and marrying the heroine and happy endings and all that... But the second kind, they show you life more like it is... The first kind makes you cheerful and contented, but the second kind shakes you up.

And those women were sneaky. They understood that including fantastical elements in their tales- golden eggs, signing harps, talking frogs- worked to mask a deeper purpose....it made the stories look on the surface like 'a mere bubble of nonsense' within which it was possible to 'utter harsh truths, to say what you dare' about the state of women's lives. Because they were just stories, right? Harmless little fantasies?