Ek Quotes

Kaisi Duniya Hai, Logon Ke Ajeeb-O-Gareeb Sawal Jawab Se Kitne Pareshaan Hain Aur, Ek Din Jab Allah Tallh Sawal Jawab Karega Tou Uski Fikr Hi Nahi. Ya Allah Khair.

Ranjish hi sahi dil hi dukhane ke liye aa aa phir se mujhe chhod ke jaane ke liye aa.. Pahale se maraasim na sahii phir bhi kabhi tou rasm-o-rahe duniya hi nibhane ke liye aa.. Kis kis ko batayenge judaai ka sabab ham tu mujhse khafaa hai tou zamaane ke liye aa.. kuch tou mere pindaar-e-mohabbat ka bharam rakh tu bhi to kabhi mujh ko manaane ke liye aa.. ek umr se hoon lazzat-e-giriyaa se bhi maharuum aye raahat-e-jaan mujh ko rulaane ke liye aa.. ab tak dil-e-khushfeham ko tujh se hain ummiden ye aakharii shammen bhi bujhaane ke liye aa ....

The heart is a weapon—a self-inflicting weapon—that if not trained properly, can destroy a person.

My sister burns, and she does not burn for you.

Good men fall to monsters every day.

If you listen long enough to the whispers, you will hear the truth. Until then, I will tell you this: the world is made safe by a woman. She bound the monster up and cast him out, and the man who was left was saved.

I do fear him,” I said, which was close to the truth. “I fear him as I fear the desert sun and poisonous snakes. They are all part of the life I live. But the sun gives light, and snakes will feed a caravan if they are caught and cooked.

When he lifts his arm to wrap around me, "I can finally make out the words of his tattoo:   pain is a reminder you're still alive

That was where he was wrong. She wasn't weaponless. No Jedi ever was.

If you think I'm going to apologize for being drugged and raped, you have another thing coming.

My sister is no fool and she is not tender-hearted,” I said. “My sister fights for her home, and takes what risks she must. That is why I put myself before her today—why I would not let you have her. My sister burns, and she does not burn for you.

You have to remember every piece that's been played, even the ones removed from the board, because some of them might count against you in the end.

There is life, and there is living.

But maybe people like me aren't supposed to be saved. Maybe I'm just destined to bear the weight of the demons that lurk among the good.

They'll stall you," Organa said. "I know it's a horrifying situation, but you can't fight every evil in the galaxy." "Evil? " Padmé said. "I've fought evil and it was easy: I shot it. It's apathy I can't stand.

We are brave, your highness.

Dalam hati kecilku aku tahu bahwa manusia tidak pantas diterapkan dalam skala nilai. Manusia tidak akan bahagia dibegitukan. Skala penilaian akan menghasilkan manusia super dan manusia pecundang.

Let me get this straight...You are sending me out in a minivan whose date of manufacture predates the year of my birth, so that I can watch two dragon slayers track down enormous fire-breathing animals, in an effort to prevent me from spending time in the library?

I've fought evil, and it was easy: I shot it. It's apathy I can't stand.

Maybe he is starting to understand. I don't really care, though. I do not want to be anyone's model for becoming a better person.

And that's the moment when you realize that hopes and dreams are as fucked up as fairytales.

He's my sadist, and I'm his masochist. We're the reflection of each other's monsters.

You would have to be half mad to dream me up.” -Lewis Carroll

I didn't used to overthink my choices quite so much. Then someone made what I've always been told is a very important choice for me, and now I tend to overthink everything else.

You are an idealist," Bonteri said. "That's not a bad thing." "I know," Padmé said. "I have worked very hard at it.

I am yours to command, husband,” I said to him, and met his eyes. When my mother spoke to our father, she often said that. He liked it, the way she put herself in his hands. Until just now, I had not realized that since my mother was the one who allowed it, she had more power than even he might have realized. Lo-Melkhiin thought I was less than him; but his was not the only tally.

When Ahsoka opened her hands, she was not surprised to find that two lightsabers, rough and unfinished, were waiting. They would need more work, but they were hers. When she turned them on, they shone the brightest white.

And if someone does figure it out and starts a rumour, we'll just deal with it," Polly says. "What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger, and all that crap." "Do you ever dream of the day when your life can no longer be adequately summarized by Kelly Clarkson songs?" I ask. "All the time," Polly says.

Always, it seemed, men would overlook unpleasant things for the sake of those that went well. The statues’ eyes for the melodious sounds of the fountain. The deaths of their daughters for the bounty of their trade. There was great beauty in this qasr, but there was also great ugliness and fear. I would not be like those men who turned their eyes from one to see the other. I would remember what those things cost.

I pick up the thin, delicate silver chain that has a flat bar that horizontally connects the chain together. I see that the bar is etched with tiny letters that scribe: And though she be but little, she is fierce

There was, apparently, no honor in driver's ed.

Ek is meer bekommerd dat daar nie meer bome vir papier is nie as wat ek bekommerd is oor die toekoms van Afrikaans.

Dis seker hoekom mens 'n beste vriendin moet hê, dink ek terwyl ek saam haar stap. Om jou hand vas te hou as jy uitmekaarval

In my language, there is no word for I. To even come close, you must say, E’tesh’lem vereme pri’lus, which means, This one here who is apart from all. It’s the way we say lonely and alone. It’s the way we say outsider. It’s the way we say weak. Everyone always wonders about I love you. In Ifrek you say, Mev o’tem, or, We are together. “How do you say, I’m tired?” people ask. “Ek’erb nal veesh ly. The time for rest is upon us.

Like I said before, the truest part of a person is always the ugliest. But I’m ugly too, so you’re not alone.

Of course, if I were dead, they could just bury me, and move on. Broken is harder to deal with.

There is life, and there is living—and that is what she learned.

She went through her days trying not to think about her loss, lest her grief incapacitate her, but that just meant that every time it came up, it hurt like new.

They say when you take revenge against another you lose your innocence.

De-abia plecaseşi. Te-am rugat să pleci. Te urmăream de-a lungul molatecii poteci, Pân-ai pierit, la capăt, prin trifoi. Nu te-ai uitat o dată înapoi! Ţi-as fi făcut un semn, după plecare, Dar ce-i un semn din umbră-n depărtare? Voiam să pleci, voiam şi să rămâi. Ai ascultat de gândul ce-l dintâi. Nu te oprise gândul fără glas. De ce-ai plecat? De ce-ai mai fi rămas? www youtube com/watch?v=Mv8lW_NY5ek

There’s two kinds of family,” Miara said after a moment. “There’s the kind like me and Kaeden, where you get born in the right place to the right people and you’re stuck with one another. If you’re lucky, it turns out okay. The other kind of family is the kind you find.

my bleeding heart. I want to crawl inside of his skin and drown myself in his blood. I want to swim in his marrow.

Any path can be a poor one if it goes blindly in one direction.

Watch your world burn, light of my heart. Tomorrow we will find another one and burn that too.

I've been wishing that there was someone just like him, and now that he's found me, I feel like he has the power to pull me though this madness that has been consuming me

How you feel is how you allow yourself to feel.

Deyr fé, deyja frændr, deyr sjálfr ið sama; ek veit einn, að aldri deyr: dómr of dauðan hvern.

Imama: Accha mai ek arab likh deti to kya krte Salar: To ek arab bhi de deta Imama: Kahan se dete? Fraud krte? Salar: Kyu krta? Kama kar deta İmama: Sari umar kamate hi rehte fir ? Salar: Accha hota sari umar tumhara karzdar rehta.

Whether or not you’re in politics, everything is political. We all save face for others to perceive us in the best light. Nothing is real until you break down the walls and reveal the ugliness.

We’re tear-stained savages, sharing a single breath of life, death, and love.

My hands are yours,” she said. “Please don’t ask me for them again.

She chose to fight men everyday, and then fight their sons, who thought they knew better than their fathers.

But I have faith in you. You seem like the type who eats fear for breakfast.

Because life is not a fairytale, but we all need that one person who keeps the dream alive. You are that person for me.

If you are clever and you are good, the monster will not have you. You should not believe everything you hear. Good men fall to monsters everyday. Clever men are tricked by their own pride or by pretty words.

Aga jah, Juku, selles on sul õigus küll, et eks see lugemine ole tõesti üks harjumus, sihuke harjumus, mis jääb külge ja pärast enam lahti ei saa, täpselt nagu suitsetamine. Aga suitsetamine on paha harjumus, lugemine on hea. Lugemise harjumus ei tee tervisele midagi. Suitsu sa teed?

Taste your lies, Nina.

I wish for frozen time, forgotten sins, and never-ending love.

The sword fighting turned out to be quite a bit of fun, once the agony of muscle development produced actual muscles.

Missing Padmé was like missing the sun, and she was currently on a planet with two of them.

There's a moment when I know that I should scream. But screaming would be hard. And blackness would be easy. Black picks me.

You're holding your future self responsible for something your past self didn't know anything about. You can't judge your past behavior because of the way things turned out. You had no way of knowing what would happen next. It's only because you do know that you judge your past self.

Bruises fade. Blood dries. Scabs heal.

People are bound to get hurt in our journey for happiness.

That's the moment I realized hopes and dreams are as fucked up as fairytales

On a dusty world with two bright suns, a little boy looked up from his work and saw an angel.

Life isn’t gonna be here forever. It passes by quickly and the time is lost, so don’t waste it.

...then he comes to the brink of a precipitous fall; that is, he comes to the point where he himself will have to be taken as standing-reserve. Meanwhile man, precisely as the one so threatened, exalts himself to the posture of lord of the earth. In this way the impression comes to prevail that everything man encounters exists only insofar as it is his construct. This illusion gives rise in turn to one final delusion: It seems as though man everywhere and always encounters only himself... In truth, however, precisely nowhere does man today any longer encounter himself, i.e. his essence. Man stands so decisively in attendance on the challenging-forth of Enframing that he does not apprehend Enframing as a claim, that he fails to see himself as the one spoken to, and hence also fails in every way to hear in what respect he ek-sists, from out of his essence, in the realm of an exhortation or address, and thus can never encounter only himself.

People will say you’re coping wrong, but really there’s no wrong way. Anything that lets you keep going is the right thing, as long as it’s not damaging. You need to find the way that works for you.

She had not answered my question. She had not told me that she loved his eyes or the sound of his voice. She had not said that his touch lit a fire on her skin. Then it came to me: she loved him because he did not seek to change her. If I had made him, or if my father had found him, it did not matter. My sister would have a husband who would not make her sit, veiled and weaving, in his tent. He would not take another wife, as my father had done. She would be his, and he would be hers, alone. This was why she loved him, and it made my heart glad to hear it.

Kaun bata sakta hai yeh mulaqaat pehli yaan aakhri hai.. Na jaane kitni baar mil chuka hoon tujhse aur kitni baar abhi milna baaki hai... Har daur mein hota hai koi kirdaar mere jaisa.. Na jaane kitne qisson me zikar hai mera aur kitni kahaniyon mein abhi likhna baaki hai... Sadiyon se chal hoon ekk kaafile ke saath saath.. Na Jaane kin Manzilon ki talaash hai aur kahan abhi Pahunchna baaki hai... Suna hai Sau raaste jaate hai usski jaanib ki taraf ... mujhe ek bhi nai mila, lagta hai nasamajh kadmon ka abhi Bhatkna baaki hai... Na thama hai, na hi thamega yeh ranjishon ka silsilaa 'Mehram.. Na jaane kitni dafa toota hoon abhi kitna aur bikhrana baaki hai... Khwabon me khawab dekh raha hai ek mitti ka bhut zameen pe.. Uske Khwabon ki ajal mein bas Palkon ka jhapkana baaki hai... Wajood-e-adam ke dayaron se nikal toh chuki hai zaat meri.. Bas saanson ka rukna aur rooh ka bicharna baaki hai.. Uss roshni ki talaash mein jo phir raha hai dar-ba-dar... Dekh Patangey ney Samait liya haunsla usme Jitnaa abhi baaki hai... Kaun bata sakta hai yeh mulaqaat pehli yaan aakhri hai Na jaane kitni baar mil chuka hoon tujhse aur kitni baar abhi milna baaki hai...

There are corners in the world that are too dark to see, and there are edges that are sharper than they appear, ready to snag the unwary. There are those who do not fear the things they should, and there are those who would bargain with the devil herself for the sake of their greed.The world is made safe by a woman, yes, but it is a very big world.

My name, it’s Elizabeth. And I assure you, I’m no tart.

For ten years, Padmé had been the center of her galaxy, the lodestar by which she made all of her decisions. She’d never imagined outgrowing that. But life had other ideas.

It was strange, to love two people so much, so differently. She didn’t quite understand it, and she wasn’t sure how to make it work.

He'd gone to Shmi Skywalker's grave to apologize for losing her son.

I had tasted power and I had used it up, but now I would get more of another kind. We would share it, and keep each other from the dark.

Cordé was dead. Versé was dead. Obi-Wan was dead. Master Billaba was dead. Anakin Skywalker was dead. Padmé Amidala Naberrie was dead, her dreams with her.

Saoud, who wanted to belong. Arwa, who wanted her mother. Tariq, who wanted to do his work. And me…who wanted more than I could name.

When he had the dream on Alderaan, he would get Leia out of her bed, hold her close to his chest, and hope against hope that she exhibited only her mother's gifts, not her father's.

The monster tested her, pulling at her soul and rending her spirit. She clung to life, and in the clinging she might have become a monster too, except she chose the path her story would take. She chose white stone walls and a golden crown. She chose to debate words of law, and to never grind her own grain. She chose to fight men every day, and then fight their sons, who thought they knew better than their fathers.<...> If you listen long enough to the whispers, you will hear the truth. Until then, I will tell you this: the world is made safe by a woman.

I've never met any of these women before, and I will never see any of them after today. I don't know their names and they don't know mine. I've been on teams and in clubs my whole life, surrounded by people who are united by a common purpose, and I have never felt anything like this. Maybe it's the gas, but until this moment, I have never felt such a kinship with a person who was not actually family. I love every person in this room, and I'm pretty sure that if they asked, I'd do anything for them. Anything, except have a baby.

I’ve never come across anyone like him. His intensity is entirely consuming, and when I’m not with him, all I can think about are ways I can sneak around to get to him. It’s like he’s the oxygen I need to survive, and when he’s gone I’m suffocating. I don’t know if love is supposed to feel this way, but it’s all I know, and it’s all with him.

Bitterbessie dagbreek bitterbessie son 'n spieël het gebreek tussen my en hom Soek ek na die grootpad om daarlangs te draf oral draai die paadjies van sy woorde af Dennebos herinnering dennebos vergeet het ek ook verdwaal trap ek in my leed papegaai-bont eggo kierang kierang my totdat ek bedroë weer die koggel kry Eggo is geen antwoord antwoord hy alom bitterbessie dagbreek bitterbessie son

Padmé Amidala was completely still. The brown halo of her hair spread out around her, softened here and there by white blossoms that had blown through the air to find their rest amongst her curls. Her skin was pale and perfect. Her face was peaceful. Her eyes were closed and her hands were clasped across her stomach as she floated. Naboo carried on without her. Even now, at the end, she was watched.

In the end there doesn't have to be anyone who understands you... There just has to be someone who wants to.

...pride is a faulty wire that will ultimately burn you.

Man is the shepherd of Being. Man loses nothing in this "less"; rather, he gains in that he attains the truth of Being. He gains the essential poverty of the shepherd, whose dignity consists in being called by Being itself into the preservation of Being's truth. The call comes as the throw from which the thrownness of Da-sein derives. In his essential unfolding within the history of Being, man is the being whose Being as ek-sistence consists in his dwelling in the nearness of Being. Man is the neighbor of Being.

I never claimed to be right-minded. I know I'm screwed up. I know I'm so far beyond damaged I'm irreparable. But I also know that you won't find the same amount of satisfaction in punishing anyone but me.

He shifts on his knees and leans into me until I am lying on my back. He's supporting himself above me on his one elbow and wraps his other hand around my head, pulling me in for a slow kiss. I hold his face in my hands as his lips dance across mine. When he pulls back, he takes his time staring at me, and I get lost in his clear-blue eyes for a moment before he says, "You're not gonna lose me, babe. I love you too much to let you go." - Ryan Campbell

Have you seen burning bone, my wife? It starts like a roasted goat, but then the meat strips away to feed the fire, and the bone is left naked and alone. It twists and shatters, marrow leaking into the flames, until only the dust is left." "That is what happens to everything, my lord," I said to him. "If only the fire can be made hot enough." "Would you like to see it?" he asked.

Teraz nastąpiła wielka scena w historii kina: jej kawą mnie częstowanie! - Napije się pan kawy? - Tak. - Ale... jest tylko rozpuszczalna. I nie mam akurat cukru. (Zajrzała do puszki). - Właściwie to akurat mi się kończy... - Starczy - powiedziałem z mocą. - No nie wiem, czy tak starczy... - potrząsnęła głową, aż kolczyki jak bombki choinkowe, kulki poprostu oblepione brokatem, zawirowały. Bo zapomniałem powiedzieć, że miała na sobie adidasy, różową podomkę hollywoodzką z targu, kolczyki bombki i pełny makijaż. Widocznie gdzieś się wybierała. I już bym był na straconej pozycji, gdyby nie to, że nagle jej stary się odezwał, widać, unieruchomiony, tylko w ten sposób mógł ją drażnić: - Nic się nie kończy, stara, jest cała nowa nescafe gold w kuchni, a i cukier. - To była jego torpeda, jego połów frutti di mare na błyszczyk, na odległość. "Bił ją słownie", jak mawiała pewna gwiazda o swoim eks-mężu, bił ją na odległość.

It’s what I signed up for,” Anakin said. He put his hands behind his back and grinned at her, unabashed and honest. The truth of everything hit Sabé all at once. “She married you,” she said. “It’s not an affair. It’s a permanent relationship.” Instantly, Anakin was on the defensive again, their truce evaporating at the first test. “She makes her own choices,” Anakin said. “You know that.

He’s the one who holds all the power here. He could easily destroy me or make all my dreams come true, but in order for me to find out which, I have to let go of my control, something I’ve never done before. It terrifies me to hand all the parts of me over to him and trust that he’ll take care of them.

What I learned was that I'd rather be second to you than first to anyone else.'' Confessing her feelings was like a weight lifting off of Sabe's chest. It had taken her so long to figure it out, to put words to what she knew in her heart. And now she had done it. She wanted to fly. 'I can order you to your death,' Padme said. Her voice was so quiet that Sabe barely heard her. She reached out and took Padme's hands. 'And I would go,' she said. 'I can't be that dedicated to you,' Padme said. 'I know,' Sabe said.

The most difficult stories about the Khmer Rouge are the ones over which hover almost and maybe. She almost made it, but dysentery took her at the end. He is maybe buried in the mass grave at Choeung Ek, so we will pay our respects there. He almost walked all the way to Thailand, but the cadres found him in the forest. She maybe saw her infant son one last time before she was taken. Anne Spencer almost made it off those wards. After I read the email, an ancient and exuberant terror blazed through me. It was partly the terror that had grown in me alongside my very bones, knowing as I did that I only existed because my mother had outrun almost; I don’t know at what point you stop feeling the need to run, generation by generation, when you’re born after that. But it was also a wonderful, simple, human terror. The one where death brushes too close to you and you abruptly remember what an insane gift it is to be alive, and how much you’d like to stay alive even when death is laughing at your window, laughing in your mirror.

Let me get this straight,” I said, having swallowed. “You are sending me out in a minivan whose date of manufacture predates the year of my birth, so that I can watch two dragon slayers track down enormous fire-breathing animals, in an effort to prevent me from spending time in the library?” “There’s no supervision in the library,” Dad said.

I had spent all the years I had been in Lo-Melkhiin’s body giving power to men who I thought would use it in ways that might serve me. I had given them great art and great thoughts, and they never guessed that they fed a terrible hunger in me that would require feeding until they died trying to sate it. They had done great things and made great tales, but I had been blind. All of this time, I had had access to more power than I had imagined, and I had missed it because I saw with men’s eyes. I had forgotten the girls who scrubbed the floors and spun the yarn. I had forgotten the women who dyed the cloth and worked with henna. I had married three hundred girls, and as much as eaten them all before they were done cooking.

Why had it been her? She’d had that thought a hundred times since Order 66. Why had she survived? She wasn’t the most powerful; she wasn’t even a Jedi Knight, and yet she was still alive when so many others had died. She asked the question so often because she knew the answer. She just hated facing it, as painful as it was. She’d survived because she had left. She had walked away. She’d walked away from the Jedi and she’d walked away from Thabeska, and because of that she was alive, whether she deserved to be or not.

And another thing. Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanos and then it subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion, it is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every cranny of your body. No, don’t blush, I am telling you some truths. That is just being “in love” which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.