story

I could forget that part, but it had to have been true.

Neither Rose nor Charles liked to talk much of their adventures with the trolls, but some of the so-called "softskins" whom they had brought out of Niflheim, as well as the crew of the ship Soren had hired to go north to find Rose, must have spread the story, because for many years afterward, there were tales of a race of trolls living on top of the world.Only Rose and her white bear know the whole truth of it.

There's no reason to worryI started brand new story

You ought to the read stories of how people have endured the worst situation. You will find the strength to survive life.

Real inspiration are not people, but their stories.

Life is like a story, when all the resolution is resolved, you heave a sigh of relief.

I am more one for the story, I think, than the action.

He gets away with it because he's strong.''This is the story of mankind.''I thought you were going to be a priest at one point.''Yes. But then I read the newspaper.

I tell the story to you now, but in each telling the story itself changes a little, changes direction, and that in turn changes you and me. So be very careful not only in how you repeat it but in how you remember it, goslings. More often than you realize it, the world is shaped by two things -- stories told and the memories they leave behind.

Our thoughts affect our agreement with reality, our story we tell ourselves. IF you want to change your story, start with your thoughts.

A well-thought-out story doesn__ need to resemble real life. Life itself tries with all its might to resemble a well-crafted story.

...What happens is of little significance compared with the stories we tell ourselves about what happens. Events matter little, only stories of events affect us.

Music is not my life. My life is music.

The sea loved the moonWhen she was supposed to love the shore.The moon knewAnd hence made his intentions known. That she should love the shoreWho was destined for her.Yet his protests seemed weak. And even when he pushed her towards the shore-She always retreated back.To want, to need, to love the moonFor all she's worth.Everyone said, it wasn't meant to happen.Yet, the Tsunami rose that night for their union.

Writing is a holy occupation.

If you organize your life around your passion, you can turn your passion into your story and then turn your story into something bigger - something that matters.

Writers do not have the privilege of sleep. There is always a story coming alive in their heads, constantly composing. Whether they choose it or not.

Just because they're a story doesn't mean they're not real.