Stars Aligned Quotes

I believe the stars align so souls can find one another. Whether they are meant to be souls in love or souls in life remains to be seen.

For all of the most important things, the timing always sucks. Waiting for a good time to quit your job? The stars will never align and the traffic lights of life will never all be green at the same time. The universe doesn't conspire against you, but it doesn't go out of its way to line up the pins either. Conditions are never perfect. "Someday" is a disease that will take your dreams to the grave with you. Pro and con lists are just as bad. If it's important to you and you want to do it "eventually," just do it and correct course along the way.

Maybe we'll meet again in another life. When the stars align.

It's nothing like the way they describe it in the movies, like all the stars aligning and fireworks exploding across an ink-black sky. It feels both quieter and bigger than that, as simple as coming home and as dizzying and all-encompassing as the wind rushing in around us. It feels like a thousand banished and buried moments have been building up to this - to us alone and untethered and weak with wanting - and maybe they have.

... so this is for us. This is for us who sing, write, dance, act, study, run and love and this is for doing it even if no one will ever know because the beauty is in the act of doing it. Not what it can lead to. This is for the times I lose myself while writing, singing, playing and no one is around and they will never know but I will forever remember and that shines brighter than any praise or fame or glory I will ever have, and this is for you who write or play or read or sing by yourself with the light off and door closed when the world is asleep and the stars are aligned and maybe no one will ever hear it or read your words or know your thoughts but it doesn’t make it less glorious. It makes it ethereal. Mysterious. Infinite. For it belongs to you and whatever God or spirit you believe in and only you can decide how much it meant and means and will forever mean and other people will experience it too through you. Through your spirit. Through the way you talk. Through the way you walk and love and laugh and care and I never meant to write this long but what I want to say is: Don’t try to present your art by making other people read or hear or see or touch it; make them feel it. Wear your art like your heart on your sleeve and keep it alive by making people feel a little better. Feel a little lighter. Create art in order for yourself to become yourself and let your very existence be your song, your poem, your story. Let your very identity be your book. Let the way people say your name sound like the sweetest melody. So go create. Take photographs in the wood, run alone in the rain and sing your heart out high up on a mountain where no one will ever hear and your very existence will be the most hypnotising scar. Make your life be your art and you will never be forgotten.

I think sometimes the stars align whether we want them to or not. And we're drawn to certain people and places for no other reason than...Destiny.

A small shift in the gravity between us and suddenly all my stars are out of alignment, planets knocked from their orbits, and I'm left stumbling, without map or heading, through the bewildering territory of being in love with your best friend.

You are so full of light,” I say after a moment. “You align with joy, and I with fear and fury. If you could see into my thoughts, you would surely turn away. So why would you stay with me, even if return to Kenettra and resume our lives?” “You paint me as a saint,” he murmurs. “But I aligned with greed solely to prevent that.” Even now, he can make my lips twitch with a smile. “I’m serious, Magiano.” “As am I. None of us are saints. I have seen your darkness, yes, and know your struggle. I won’t deny it.” He touches my chin with one hand. At this gesture, the whispers seem to settle, pushed away where I can’t hear them. “But you are also passionate and ambitious and loyal. You are a thousand things, mi Adelinetta, not just one. Do not reduce yourself to that.

lets go back, back to the begining back to when the earth the sun the stars they all aligned, cause perfect didn't feel so perfect tryin to fit a square into a circle was no life i defy

The sense of wonder and possibility – that I owed to the Argentine women who had fought for freedom before the universe conspired and the stars aligned to make me.

I believe the stars align so that souls can find one another. Whether they are meant to be souls in love or souls in life remains to be seen.

We have to make the stars align for us now-- find a way for us now to get burned for being together." - Trey to Kricket

This is what happens when soul mates finally join as one. The stars align, the heavens sing, and everything else fades away. You know you’ll always have strength in your heart, and courage in your eyes.

The professional arms himself with patience, not only to give the stars time to align in his career, but to keep himself from flaming out in each individual work.

Mama always said the stars aligned when we were born, that God made us a match. From the first time we saw each other, Luka took me in his arms and swore his protection over me to my mother. Mama used to say she caught him starting into my crib only hours after I was born. Then when she asked what he was doing, he asked her if he could have me.

Trauma was refusing to adhere to any schedule, didn’t seem to align itself with time. Some days it was distant as a star and other days it could wholly engulf me.

A small shift in the gravity between us and suddenly all my stars are out of alignment, planets knocked from their orbits, and I’m left stumbling, without map or heading, through the bewildering territory of being in love with your best friend.

I don’t believe in destiny or stars, but I have to believe Cliff’s constellation would align right beside mine.

Maybe we’ll meet again in another life. When the stars align.

The moon, Earth, and stars aligned. God blew on the bullet, and I gut-shot the jackass.

At the altar of the tree, I make a thousand soundless prayers and offerings, beg whoever’s listening to align our stars and let him be who I thought he was. If he can’t be that, I pray, may I be free of him and not have it kill me.

Take a chance on me. Because the timing’s always going to be wrong and the stars are never going to align but I would break every clock in this city and I’d shut every star down from shining if it meant that for one afternoon we could cast all that aside and give in. Give in to the complete impossibility that something could work here, despite everything that stands in the way.

But it was not so complicated really. Such things rarely are. It was a simple case of stars aligning; those that didn't being nudged into place.

I believe the stars align so that souls can find one another. Whether they are meant to be souls in love or souls in life remains to be seen.

The endless void of space stretched out before it. Millennia had passed as it roared through the plane of the Milky Way galaxy. The awesome ellipse of its original path was continually altered by intermittent proximity to myriad stars. It gave off minute bits of itself as it rocketed silently through the vacuum of space, but still, after all these millennia it was counted large as such things were measured, and the fact that it had never collided with anything else after such a tremendous interval of travel was a mute testimony to the vastness and comparative emptiness of the universe. Much as humans, on a molecular level, are comprised mostly of space not of matter, so the universe, for all its galaxies and solar systems, is comprised primarily of interconnecting emptiness. Dark, colossal, mindless, and mighty in its mass and velocity, it came on and on through space. The great alignment had set it on a new path. Now, one last nudge from the Red Giant in the previous solar system had fixed its new course, on a fateful rendezvous. Though it was oblivious to its own destination and nothing in the universe with awareness had yet detected it . . . Its path was set.

Life has a way of taking me down. I guess that’s how the stars were aligned for me. Regardless of what I do, it seems like when the stars align, they just fall from the sky, and I have to start over.

Unfairness – this is hardest to deal with, but unfortunately that is how our country works. People with connections, rich dads, beautiful faces, pedigree find it easier to make it – not just in Bollywood, but everywhere. And sometimes it is just plain luck. There are so few opportunities in India, so many stars need to be aligned for you to make it happen. Merit and hard work is not always linked to achievement in the short term, but the long term correlation is high, and ultimately things do work out. But realize, there will be some people luckier than you. In fact, to have an opportunity to go to college and understand this speech in English means you are pretty damm lucky by Indian standards. Let’s be grateful for what we have and get the strength to accept what we don’t. I have so much love from my readers that other writers cannot even imagine it. However, I don’t get literary praise. It’s ok. I don’t look like Aishwarya Rai, but I have two boys who I think are more beautiful than her. It’s ok. Don’t let unfairness kill your spark

In regard to waiting for the right time to do something: "The stars will never align and the traffic lights of life will never all be green at the same time.

You’ve found the final card. The stars have aligned, my duty is done. When all hope fails, Vega Princesses, find courage in the light.

We were never meant to be together. Stars never aligned for us, they always diverged our paths from each other. Too close, but never enough. Minute hands were never slow enough for us to catch up, but fast enough we’re slipping from its grasp. We were never meant to be together, but that doesn’t mean I love you any less.

I think about perfect matches. You know how with an organ donation a perfect match isn't really perfect? There's still a chance of rejection, even if all the stars align. Nothing is ever perfect. There's just matches that have a higher chance of working than others. Maybe you guys were like that. It could have worked, but you'd spend your whole life forcing it.

She entered my life during a brief period when all the stars had momentarily aligned. It wasn’t until it all exploded, throwing my entire world out of orbit, that I realized she was the greatest gift I’d ever been given.

In Summation A poem by Taylor Swift At this hearing I stand before my fellow members of the Tortured Poets Department With a summary of my findings A debrief, a detailed rewinding For the purpose of warning For the sake of reminding As you might all unfortunately recall I had been struck with a case of a restricted humanity Which explains my plea here today of temporary i n s a n i t y You see, the pendulum swings Oh, the chaos it brings Leads the caged beast to do the most curious things Lovers spend years denying what’s ill fated Resentment rotting away galaxies we created Stars placed and glued meticulously by hand next to the ceiling fan Tried wishing on comets. Tried dimming the shine. Tried to orbit his planet. Some stars never align. And in one conversation, I tore down the whole sky Spring sprung forth with dazzling freedom hues Then a crash from the skylight bursting through Something old, someone hallowed, who told me he could be brand new And so I was out of the oven and into the microwave Out of the slammer and into a tidal wave How gallant to save the empress from her gilded tower Swinging a sword he could barely lift But loneliness struck at that fateful hour Low hanging fruit on his wine stained lips He never even scratched the surface of me. None of them did. “In summation, it was not a love affair!” I screamed while bringing my fists to my coffee ringed desk It was a mutual manic phase. It was self harm. It was house and then cardiac arrest. A smirk creeps onto this poet’s face Because it’s the worst men that I write best. And so I enter into evidence My tarnished coat of arms My muses, acquired like bruises My talismans and charms The tick, tick, tick of love bombs My veins of pitch black ink All’s fair in love and poetry Sincerely, The Chairman of The Tortured Poets Department

if it was one of those moments in the universe where all the stars align—where every little choice made in life led us to that airport on that exact night. Maybe it was just a little bit of magic. Inexplicable and undeniable all at once.

If anyone rises to power, it's not only because he could, but also because the stars were aligned in his favor. Many with apparent means to take it failed simply because they weren't destined for the honor

There are two things in this world every soul wants to be: young and in love. And darling, the stars have aligned - because we are both.

It’s easy to be a hero when your own survival is aligned with someone else’s, when your victory is a victory for your entire clan.

Maybe we'll meet again when the stars align.

I think sometimes the stars align whether we want them to or not. And we're drawn to certain people and places for no other reason than...Destiny

Never stray from your own kind, Jessen,” my mother would say, “or you could end up like Princess Morga, a slave and outcast to be abhorred.” The problem was, I’d never been a very obedient daughter. Never the one to do exactly as I was told. And fairy tales have no meaning when the stars align and Fortune spins her wheel, weaving her own story for your heart.

You don’t get many second chances in this world.  Don’t turn your back on them.  You don’t get many true loves.  Embrace the ones in your life and set your fears aside.  You only get two parents.  Forgive them.  Not every business in this country will willingly hand you a paycheck.  Do your work with presence.  And if the stars align and the heavens deem your art acceptable enough for an audience, love every new friend and never put ads on your website.

The truth is that Percy has always been important to me, long before I fell so hard for him there was an audible crash. It's only lately that his knee bumping mine under a narrow pub table leaves me fumbling for words. A small shift in the gravity between us and suddenly all my stars are out of alignment, planets knocked from their orbits, and I’m left stumbling, without map or heading, through the bewildering territory of being in love with your best friend.

Are you aware of who you really are in relationship to the very God who created the Universe, who scattered the stars and aligned the planets? Only to those who remember and realize that they are literally spirit children of a God who knows and loves them, can the fire of refinement be welcome. Otherwise, pain and adversity are just that, pain and adversity. Fire doesn’t purify; it only burns.

That is what people do. They forget. They move on to the next big thing. They attach themselves to the next hot topic. They align themselves with the next shooting star.

Money Compounding is one concept that does not hit you unless your stars are aligned

It’s never the right time. Ever. If you’re waiting for all of the stars and planets to align before you make decisions that’ll make you happier, you’ll be waiting forever.

Perhaps these ancient observatories perennially impress modern people because modern people have no idea how the Sun, Moon, or stars move. We are too busy watching evening television to care what’s going on in the sky. To us, a simple rock alignment based on cosmic patterns looks like an Einsteinian feat. But a truly mysterious civilization would be one that made no cultural or architectural reference to the sky at all.

~Tonight's Sea~ Meet me by the sea, Under the stars. Where we can gaze With our hearts. Today, I am restless, Waiting for tonight's meet. I cannot believe how endless These hours can be. I hope the constellations Are aligned. For tonight we'll see Where our connection wanders. I'll hold on to this dream. My grip isn't fading. My memory isn't gone. Tonight we will be wading In the sea waters of love. -Rachel Nicole Wagner Original

Call themselves?" asked Yama. "You are wrong, Sam, Godhood is more than a name. It is a condition of being. One does not achieve it merely by being immortal, for even the lowliest laborer in the fields may achieve continuity of existence. Is it then the conditioning of an Aspect? No. Any competent hypnotist can play games with the self-image. Is it the raising up of an Attribute? Of course not. I can design machines more powerful and more accurate than any faculty a man may cultivate. Being a god is the quality of being able to be yourself to such an extent that your passions correspond with the forces of the universe, so that those who look upon you know this without hearing your name spoken. Some ancient poet said that the world is full of echoes and correspondences. Another wrote a long poem of an inferno, wherein each man suffered a torture which coincided in nature with those forces which had ruled his life. Being a god is being able to recognize within one's self these things that are important, and then to strike the single note that brings them into alignment with everything else that exists. Then, beyond morals or logic or esthetics, one is wind or fire, the sea, the mountains, rain, the sun or the stars, the flight of an arrow, the end of a day, the clasp of love. One rules through one's ruling passions. Those who look upon gods then say, without even knowing their names, 'He is Fire. She is Dance. He is Destruction. She is Love.' So, to reply to your statement, they do not call themselves gods. Everyone else does, though, everyone who beholds them." "So they play that on their fascist banjos, eh?" "You choose the wrong adjective." "You've already used up all the others.

What story will our kids be telling about us someday, do you suppose?” “It’ll be a lot more romantic than two senators matchmaking,” I said. “They’ll say that we were meant to be together no matter what. For us, stars aligned, the gods smiled—prob’ly there was a tidal wave someplace, too, and we just haven’t heard about it yet.” “A Homeric epic, it sounds like. Have another glass of champagne and tell me more.” *

Our worlds were both dark, and nothing would be normal, but together we would make our own world filled with light and love. This is what happens when soul mates finally join as one. The stars align, the heavens sing, and everything else fades away. You know you’ll always have strength in your heart, and courage in your eyes. Our future wouldn’t be normal, and would be different from the rest, but no less perfect.

Perhaps walking away right now is for the best. It’s sad, but sometimes loving someone isn’t enough. One day, if the stars are aligned, you might be ready for each other and come together for the right reasons.

Over the centuries, people have placed a wall around such mastery. They have called it genius and have thought of it as inaccessible. They have seen it as the product of privilege, inborn talent, or just the right alignment of the stars. They have made it seem as if it were as elusive as magic. But that wall is imaginary.

Within each of us there is a silence —a silence as vast as a universe. We are afraid of it…and we long for it. When we experience that silence, we remember who we are: creatures of the stars, created from the cooling of this planet, created from dust and gas, created from the elements, created from time and space…created from silence. In our present culture, silence is something like an endangered species… an endangered fundamental. The experience of silence is now so rare that we must cultivate it and treasure it. This is especially true for shared silence. Sharing silence is, in fact, a political act. When we can stand aside from the usual and perceive the fundamental, change begins to happen. Our lives align with deeper values and the lives of others are touched and influenced. Silence brings us back to basics, to our senses, to our selves. It locates us. Without that return we can go so far away from our true natures that we end up, quite literally, beside ourselves. We live blindly and act thoughtlessly. We endanger the delicate balance which sustains our lives, our communities, and our planet. Each of us can make a difference. Politicians and visionaries will not return us to the sacredness of life. That will be done by ordinary men and women who together or alone can say, "Remember to breathe, remember to feel, remember to care, let us do this for our children and ourselves and our children's children. Let us practice for life's sake.

The most fundamental, basic need in magick, is the development of the will. The magus says, “I will, and not heaven nor hell can stop me.” It is in this forming and growing, creating, of the will, where heaven and hell learns to follow the will of the magus. A person who wants to develop the soul must never say, “Maybe” or “If I see a sign” because the master creates his own signs. If you need a star to align in front of a tree because that to you would be a sign, then you make the star align with the tree, if not in this world, in the other worlds and in the other dimensions. There are no “ifs” and there are no “maybes” there are only “I wills.” This is the basic platform of magick, and most people never get past it, because not all can.

So many stars had to align to bring you to me. More had to align to get a stubborn-ass grump to open his heart. But they did.

You could waste time waiting for the stars to align or you could get out there and start kicking them into place.

Love was such a crazy emotion, that sometimes all the stars in the universe had to be completely aligned in order for someone to recognize what was in reality as clear as day.

All the stars were aligned or some shit.

She cried when I told her I had to go and that I believed that one day if the stars aligned, fate would bring us back together again.

For us, stars aligned, the gods smiled—prob’ly there was a tidal wave someplace, too, and we just haven’t heard about it yet.

And fairy tales have no meaning when the stars align and Fortune spins her wheel, weaving her own story for your heart.

No stars aligned that day, just wounds.

In your eyes the stars align like sand filtered in the hour glass of your perfect figure and I lose all reason as this moment becomes forever.

As above so below, can I, with you, go? Always to safety from Samael, Heaven is where you dwell and around you all stars align.

Love should be about aligning your life with another person, not a place of make-believe you can escape to where you always feel high, are the star of the show and unquestioningly adored.

Resistance outwits the amateur with the oldest trick in the book: It uses his own enthusiasm against him. Resistance gets us to plunge into a project with an overambitious and unrealistic timetable for its completion. It knows we can’t sustain that level of intensity. We will hit the wall. We will crash. The professional, on the other hand, understands delayed gratification. He is the ant, not the grasshopper; the tortoise, not the hare... The professional arms himself with patience, not only to give the stars time to align in his career, but to keep himself from flaming out in each individual work. He knows that any job, whether it's a novel or kitchen remodel, takes twice as long as he thinks and costs twice as much. He accepts that. He recognizes it as reality.

I've never understood the phrase they have chemistry before now. After all, everything is chemistry. Everything is combination and reaction. The atoms in by body align themselves with the atoms in his.

I’ve never really understood the phrase they have chemistry before now. After all, everything is chemistry. Everything is combination and reaction. The atoms in my body align themselves with the atoms in his.

She was the stars and the heavens and the oceans. There was nothing but that single fragment of time, and this bud of love we had planted inside it. And then, at some point after it started, the kiss ended, and I stroked her hair, and the church bells rang in the distance and everything in the world was in alignment.

Who am I? Am I the blood within my veins? The heart that always strains, to ease the pains of others? Am I the name that I’ve been given? Does that explain why I am driven? Does that honor my father and my mother? What is it that you find, when the stars somehow align? And begin to define the essence that is mine? “Who am I? I am brother, I am son I am many, I am one I am more than I can comprehend And forever I’m your friend.

He was incorrigible, yet you can’t help but love him. His devil-may-care attitude, his brash nature and his vivaciousness aligned with his self-assertive and fearless nature gave birth to a Star who most people will, never, ever see the likes of. People like Sixteen-String Jack are wild, untameable and impossible to forget.

There's a little bit of madness In their love They are pure like blank white paper They are so lost but In the right direction They are beautiful They are precious and rare And so The stars aligned To bring them together

Difficult roads can lead you to beautiful destinations; and the beauty of humanity is in our shared mutuality and intrinsic reciprocity, you are never alone in your difficulty, we are all made of the same stardust! The essence of spirituality and the bigger picture is to uncover who you truly are and share in that hard-won individuality; to be a force of good aligning with your gifts, talents and special qualities that we all grow from. We can transmute and transition every seemingly negative thought, emotion, and circumstance for our greater good and those around us.

He had dreamt about a dark-haired foreign boy. This boy held the key to the undoing of their demise. He had carried his curse for too long. Time was short, the alignment was coming. The vivid dream had spoken to him about Florence. As the sun overshadowed the top of the open-air coliseum, the light briefly hit his three golden symbols. He would need to cover them before he was spotted. Glancing around, he found what he needed. He rolled through the mud until he was coated. On the outside, he was Celestial KittyCat — a black, scrappy, alley cat with a golden brand on his side. A brand of a sun, a star, and a moon all in alignment. On the inside, he was still Patrick, and his heart still yearned for CallaLyly. He scowled as he thought about the curse that was planted by a mystic from the Far East over two and a half centuries ago.

Dot, the truth is, we aren’t a couple.” Dot gasped, and brought her hand to her chest. “No!” “It’s true,” he continued. Will then reached across the table and took Lauren’s hand. “But if the stars align and things work out, the first time I kiss this woman is going to be because I want to—not because some tradition told me I had to.” Lauren froze in place, as if Will’s hand on hers shocked her body rigid. Dot let out a squeal. “Well, that was the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard!

Our world were both dark, and nothing would be normal, but together we would make our own world filled with light and love. This is what happens when soul mates finally join as one. The stars align, the heavens sing, and everything else fades away.

Life has an uncanny way of tying up a host of loose ends. Not in the neat, all-creases-matching, hospital corner-to-corner kind of way, but in a cloudy, murky, uncertain mish-mash collection of what ifs, could haves, and a bus load of should haves kind of way. But what happens when all the magnificent stars in the heavens and all the resolute planets in the galaxy agree to simultaneously align? What happens when the glorious birds of prey in the sky and the steadfast worker ants of the ground all decide to ally? And more intriguingly, what happens when the settling of old hurts and scores becomes so alluring, so certain, with the whispered promise of everlasting, as to lure with it a collection of hardly surviving, barely functioning, scattered, and damaged souls together once again? As one door finally seemed to close tightly shut, two others flung wide open, and the darkness of life’s most protected secrets and haunts invited the crippling unknown to bask once again in the glaring, naked light.

I’ve lived under the fickle movement of planetary adventure. I’ve encountered long dark nights when the sirens sound. But the moment stars align, and the shift of sweet wind greets you of a morning, this is when mystery becomes knowing and fortune becomes love—

There's an old poem by Neruda that I've always been captivated by, and one of the lines in it has stuck with me ever since the first time I read it. It says "love is so short, forgetting is so long." It's a line I've related to in my saddest moments, when I needed to know someone else had felt that exact same way. And when we're trying to move on the moments we always go back to aren't the mundane ones. They are the moments you saw sparks that weren't really there, felt stars aligning without having any proof, saw your future before it happened, and then saw it slip away without any warning. These are moments of newfound hope, extreme joy, intense passion, wishful thinking, and in some cases, the unthinkable letdown. And in my mind, every one of these memories looks the same to me. I see all of these moments in bright, burning red. My experiences in love have taught me difficult lessons, especially my experiences with crazy love. The red relationships. The ones that went from zero to a hundred miles per hour and then hit a wall and exploded. And it was awful. And ridiculous. And desperate. And thrilling. And when the dust settled, it was something I’d never take back. Because there is something to be said for being young and needing someone so badly, you jump in head first without looking. And there's something to be learned from waiting all day for a train that's never coming. And there's something to be proud of about moving on and realizing that real love shines golden like starlight, and doesn't fade or spontaneously combust. Maybe I’ll write a whole album about that kind of love if I ever find it. But this album is about the other kinds of love that I’ve recently fallen in and out of. Love that was treacherous, sad, beautiful, and tragic. But most of all, this record is about love that was red.

Whatever you touch will touch you back. The simplest way that I can try to explain it is that when you spend time touching the core of the earth, soaking in the stars, communing with the moon, aligning with the elements, working with the gods and spirits—it changes a person.

We honestly thought we’d get caught almost instantly. But…somehow, the stars aligned. A little cough syrup and a short ride in the trunk and we made it back to the States with you without any issues at all. Then you were ours. A child completely off the grid. Nobody knew you existed.

Trump’s pick for secretary of state? Rex Tillerson, a figure known and trusted in Moscow, and recipient of the Order of Friendship. National security adviser? Michael Flynn, Putin’s dinner companion and a beneficiary of undeclared Russian fees. Campaign manager? Paul Manafort, longtime confidant to ex-Soviet oligarchs. Foreign policy adviser? Carter Page, an alleged Moscow asset who gave documents to Putin’s spies. Commerce secretary? Wilbur Ross, an entrepreneur with Russia-connected investments. Personal lawyer? Michael Cohen, who sent emails to Putin’s press secretary. Business partner? Felix Sater, son of a Russian American mafia boss. And other personalities, too. It was almost as if Putin had played a role in naming Trump’s cabinet. The U.S. president, of course, had done the choosing. But the constellation of individuals, and their immaculate alignment with Russian interests, formed a discernible pattern, like stars against a clear night sky. A pattern of collusion.

*Poem: Washington D.C. (The District)* I love it In this square of columns and obelisks… and monuments designed to align with constellations: To symbolize our protection. Serius. Virgo. Sun. Washington, Here where Virginia and Maryland meet, and greet. Streets and corner-stones laid In the glorious shapes of Pentagrams and Christian crosses And cubes and pyramids, And the Blazing Star set on a ley line, And the temple in the eye. Homes, made of red-brick, and granite Stones. Laus Deo! Answers May be somewhere Off the shores Of the Potomac; Where my father Once baptized me, And the waters Of the district Touched my skin. And the consciousness of America Was rebirthed in me.

This felt real. This felt like the moons had aligned and the stars were shining in our favor and every breath was ours, every touch was right. This felt like eternity in a blink, like our lives unraveled and spun together, like the convergence of always and never and every step I've ever taken and every pain I've ever endured lead to that moment.

I am aligned with the frequency and vibration of the moon and the stars.

One day the stars will align...And you won't be thinking about Ben, and the next man -- whoever he may be -- is going to be one lucky bastard.

The casting director wasn’t quite right when he said the stars would align for me. But the stars were indeed there, and I moved them until they were in the perfect position.

Stars are always aligned; it just depends on where you’re standing.

Thus are many identities, over time, shown to be temporary alignments of components involved in a deeper allegiance.

I'm so happy you're here," he said. "It's proof, I think, that the stars are beginning to align for us.

It was like the universe shoved us together at exactly the perfect moment, and I was thoroughly enjoying the alignment of the stars.

Sometimes you owe luck lot more than a cake when the stars refused to align. Finding a new way from the dead end can inspire many - Vignesh Srinivasan.

Every star aligns with the soul.

She had a future. But her stars were no longer aligned. And it was all her fault.

I’ll hunt you down,” I let the words slip out as I drag my lips closer to hers without touching, “and our love will be like those stars in the night sky, forever aligned.

the astronomy embodied in Stonehenge is not fundamentally deeper than what can be discovered with a stick in the ground. Perhaps these ancient observatories perennially impress modern people because modern people have no idea how the Sun, Moon, or stars move. We are too busy watching evening television to care what’s going on in the sky. To us, a simple rock alignment based on cosmic patterns looks like an Einsteinian feat. But a truly mysterious civilization would be one that made no cultural or architectural reference to the sky at all.

Did your horoscope say your stars were in a bad alignment? Did an entrail reading priest find something nasty in the offal? I mean, look, if you know something I should know, let’s talk about it. If you got a racially justify belief, more power to you. But how many times do we have to go through this? We are grownups we should be responsive to facts. Not feelings.

For all of the most important things, the timing always sucks. Waiting for a good time to quit your job? The stars will never align and the traffic lights of life will never all be green at the same time. The universe doesn't conspire against you, but it doesn't go out of its way to line up the pins either. Conditions are never perfect. "Someday" is a disease that will take your dreams to the grave with you. Pro and con lists are just as bad. If it's important to you and you want to do it "eventually," just do it and correct course along the way.

One day, when all the stars align for you, maybe you’ll date someone. Maybe you’ll get married. And I sure as hell hope that guy helps you shoulder a few of your burdens. Not because he doesn’t think you’re capable. Not because he wants to control you. But because he loves you.” He bent down closer, the heat from his words breathing life into my ear. “And I hope you let him.

He could think only of the rituals. Not his own people’s, but those he’d heard of on other plantations. Men and women gathering when certain stars aligned and heating clay, smearing themselves whole, dancing naked, first in unison but then alone, twirling endlessly, as though if they twirled fast enough they might spin themselves right into the ground and return to the earth.

In this way he used her as the North Star on a journey where you always want to go south. It was helpful, aligning himself in this way. It gave him something to tune to, like a violin to a piano.

Life will pass you by if you wait for the stars to align. Because stars don't align for us. They live out their days in the same way we're supposed to-on the path that will help us shine the most

The stars, the moon, the Heavens align. The sea will churn and the sky will burn. When darkness falls in this place unheard. The gates will open and hidden within. There, Then! Will a man descend!

What about those of us who just don’t fit in, who feel as if we were born on the Wrong Planet, or in the wrong time period? Where did we come from? Is this a whole counter-culture that’s new to the planet, moving us forward? Have we finally reached the Age of Aquarius? Is it now! Is the moon in the seventh house? Has Jupiter finally aligned with Mars? And are we right now getting ready to see mystic crystal revelation where love will steer the stars? Afraid not. There have always been people who see the world differently from everyone else. And there always will be. If you’re one of the ‘chosen ones’ then you come from a long line of Gypsies, tramps and thieves, of rebels and revolutionaries, of pagans, infidels and sceptics. This is your heritage, and you have much to be proud of

Men may perish, but the world will neither celebrate nor mourn. It will go on.' His smile thinned. 'Would you like to know how?' 'No.' 'Animals will swell to fill the void left by men," he told her. 'And over-swell it, perhaps. There will be other extinctions and other recoveries. The sky will clear, but those who see it will not marvel at its many colors. Those ruins will collapse, burying treasures like this-' He waved at the walls. '-and this-' He picked up the spoon from her coffee tray and tossed it down again with a clatter. '-forever, but the world will go on. Years become centuries so easily when no one is there to count them. Centuries become millennia. The forests will reclaim the lands that Men have razed. Rivers will carve canyons across the scars left by this fallen cities. Mountains will rise up, trapping seas to dry under and uncaring sun and leaving the bones of whales to bleach in the newborn deserts for no one to find, no one to be inspired by thoughts of giants and dragons. And still the worlds will go on, and I will go on with it through ages that can only be measured by the coming and going of glaciers. The stars themselves will shift in the heavens and no one will be there to invent names for their new alignments or remember the stories of the old ones, no one but me. In time, the sun itself will begin to cool. Here on Earth, the world goes on and on as its remaining life passes through its last changes and dies away. It will be quiet. And lonely.' His mouth curved into a bitter line. 'But I'll live.' 'Stop it,' Lan whispered through numb lips. 'I read once that the sun will someday swell and engulf this world before it burns itself out. Perhaps I will finally die with it. Or perhaps I' will continue to endure... my ashes pulled eternally apart through the frozen vacuum of space, and I with no more mouth to scream... still alive.

The professional arms himself with patience, not only to give the stars time to align in his career, but to keep himself from flaming out in each individual work. He knows that any job, whether it’s a novel or a kitchen remodel, takes twice as long as he thinks and costs twice as much. He accepts that. He recognizes it as reality. The professional steels himself at the start of a project, reminding himself it is the Iditarod, not the sixty-yard dash. He conserves his energy. He prepares his mind for the long haul. He sustains himself with the knowledge that if he can just keep those huskies mushing, sooner or later the sled will pull in to Nome.

Stars are aligning. Must quickly say the Black Mass and make the Voorish Sign. My youngest boy went mad. He sits drooling on the porch, trying to play the cat like an accordion. He’s been scratched some. Yer Servant, Ezra Whateley

The truth is that Percy has always been important to me, long before I fell so hard for him there was an audible crash. It's only lately that his knee bumping mine under a narrow pub table leaves me fumbling for words. A small shift in the gravity between us and suddenly all my stars are out of alignment, planets knocked from their orbits, and I'm left stumbling, without map or heading, through the bewildering territory of being in love with your best friend.

After learning hundreds of hexes, curses, and spells, all of them having variables that had variables of their own, math was simple. Once you solved for x, it didn’t change if the month was different or if the stars weren’t aligned right.

Surrender To the loving heart the universe drops its guard, and one by one the shards of stars recollect into an undivided, a sole concerted God, like children assembling in a schoolyard, or words divinely aligning by the pen of a bard.

A break, finally. New, fresh, focused. My chance to really make a dent. Thank you, aligned stars; thank you, ray of light shining down upon me. Take it, scared girl. Take the chance to do great things. Pave your path and walk it, head high.

It’s destiny; the stars have aligned perfectly to bring us together as friends. You cannot argue with what’s meant to be, once the stars have spoken, it is absolute,” he uttered, all smug and knowing. Shocked that he used the word destiny, I cocked my head and shot him a look—for the first time actually seeing Parker. He was pretty…too pretty to be a guy; streaky blond hair—as if each streak had been strategically placed—dark eyes, pale skin, and a charming smile that dimpled in one cheek. “Destiny has already found me, with a clearly marked path for my future,” I retorted. “Then you are doubly fortunate, to have it find you twice.” Parker smiled again, his eyes eerily piercing into mine. Parker and Danielle

You’ll definitely find one or two of the maids walking about tomorrow morning with their hands over their eyes for fear they’ll see the wrong man before they meet up with their sweethearts.” He gestured to Gabe. “That joker there likes to ask them to pick something up, just to see if they can do it with their eyes closed. He’s a devil that way.” “It serves them right to be thwarted if they’re foolish enough to participate in such a ridiculous superstition.” Mrs. Plumtree said with a snort. “I’d never let any of my servants do it. It smacks of country ignorance.” “I think it’s romantic,” Celia said dreamily. “You let Fate choose your mate. The stars align, and suddenly you’re confronted with the man of your dreams.” “Or the man of your nightmares,” Maria bit out, thinking of how Fate had thrown her into Oliver’s power a week ago. “Fate can be rather fickle in that respect, if you ask me. I wouldn’t trust Fate with my future.” Minerva eyed her over her glass of wine. “Probably a wise policy.

Fate lies in wait like a fucking time bomb, rearranging and aligning the stars to its own satisfaction. Then, one day, it detonates right in your face and all you want to do is not exist. But it’s what you do to dislodge Fate’s teeth from your ass that matters.

A place for the newly weds and nearly deads I'm counting the stones I hope you know I love you. Got a lot of friends 6 feet under us. Counting down the days till we join the party. Thoughts of your nightmare projected through mine... Breathing in these lies is no surprise These evil things are all we know Lets take these lives where we want to go. The future is our prize, when the stars align. Ghouls and ghosts will haunt my soul but they will never take me. Before I go, I want to show that we can make a difference. We've got some dumb perceptions. But I've got the death connection... All the hate that you have... Just throw it away Life is meant for more, But we're too distracted.. Too caught up in the anger and judgment.. Caught up in the web of lies I've heard these things keep our blood boiling, Keeps us alive, and moving forward... If that's the case I was born a dead man. And I'm forever a ghost. Hatred is something that we're brought up to see. Now everybody's looking at me I hope they know... They won't get their satisfaction.

And there, a sudden clearing in the fog, as if heaven's chenille had been pulled back just for him. Same frail finger moving across the celestial architecture. Across the constellations, and the containment and hopes of all they were. And from gambler to philosipher, he said, I've lived under the fickle movement of planetary adventure. I've encountered long dark nights when the sirens sound. But the moment stars align, and the shift of sweet wind greets you of a morning, this is when mystery becomes knowing and fortune becomes love—

And he was right. Because Carlos De Vil’s brain, by way of comparison, was almost as big as Cruella De Vil’s fur-coat closet. That’s what Carlos tried to tell himself, anyway, especially when people were making him run the tombs. His first class today was Weird Science, one he always looked forward to. It was where he’d originally gotten the idea to put his machine together, from the lesson on radio waves. Carlos was not the only top student in the class—he was tied, in fact, with the closest thing he had to a rival in the whole school: the scrawny, bespectacled Reza. Reza was the son of the former Royal Astronomer of Agrabah, who had consulted with Jafar to make sure the stars aligned on more than one nefarious occasion, which was how his family had found their way to the Isle of the Lost with everyone else. Weird Science was the class where Carlos always worked the hardest. The presence of Reza, who was every bit as competitive in science lab as he was, only made Carlos work that much harder. And as annoying as everyone found Reza to be—he always had to use the very biggest words for everything, whether they were used correctly and whether he was inserting a few extra syllables where they might or might not belong—he was still smart. Very smart. Which meant Carlos enjoyed besting him. Just the other week they had been working on a special elixir, and Reza had been annoyed that Carlos had figured out the secret ingredient first. Yeah, Reza was almost as smart as he was irritating. Even now he was raising his hand, waving it wildly back and forth. Their professor, the powerful sorcerer Yen Sid,

I chose a man and he chose me You should have simply let it be I chose a man and he chose you Now this choice you both shall rue You stole mine so I'll steal yours Each mother's child that she adores From every generation born The first new child she will mourn This curse unbroken now shall be Down into eternity Unless you find the pathway through And solve the riddle with this clue A rose's cry at rock enchanted The sun's bright ray where none is slanted A magic key to a gift divine True love must merge when stars align

I make a thousand soundless prayers and offerings, beg whoever’s listening to align our stars and let him be who I thought he was. If he can’t be that, I pray, may I be free of him and not have it kill me. But he is worth dying over and that’s the part that gets me, I guess.

God’s unmerited, divine assistance is enough. Period. It’s enough when things are going great and the stars are aligned, and it’s enough when God chooses to allow something dreadful to come across your path. It’s enough. It’s not easy, but it is what we need. And praise God for that.

That’s a conscious decision to presume the primary goodness of Being. That’s an act of courage. Aim high, like Pinocchio’s Geppetto. Wish upon a star, and then act properly, in accordance with that aim. Once you are aligned with the heavens, you can concentrate on the day. Be careful. Put the things you can control in order. Repair what is in disorder, and make what is already good better. It is possible that you can manage, if you are careful. People are very tough. People can survive through much pain and loss. But to persevere they must see the good in Being. If they lose that, they are truly lost.

The Orion constellation was very significant to the ancient Egyptians. Years earlier, a construction engineer, Robert Bauval, had noticed that the three pyramids at Giza, including the great pyramid, were aligned in a fashion that looked similar to the way that the three stars of Orion’s belt were aligned.

The professional arms himself with patience, not only to give the stars time to align in his career, but to keep himself from flaming out in each individual work. He knows that any job, whether it's a novel or a kitchen remodel, takes twice as long as he thinks and costs twice as much. He accepts that. He recognizes it as reality. The

And taking a million years might be a small price to pay for getting it right, I suggest. “That’s an extremely small price to pay, because getting it right— If you populated the stars with the wrong thing, then you’ve achieved basically zero value, so it’s really. . . . You can think of having the wrong moral view as an existential risk.”86

Our ability to measure and apportion time affords an almost endless source of comfort. “Synchronise watches at oh six hundred,” says the infantry captain, and each of his huddled lieutenants finds a respite from fear in the act of bringing two tiny pointers into jeweled alignment while tons of heavy artillery go fluttering overhead; the prosaic, civilian looking dial of the watch has restored, however briefly, an illusion of personal control. Good, it counsels, looking tidily up from the hairs and veins of each terribly vulnerable wrist; fine: so far, everything’s happening right on time… “Oh, let me see now,” says the ancient man, tilting his withered head to wince and blink at the sun in bewildered reminiscence, “my first wife passed away the spring of -” and for a moment he is touched with terror. The spring of what? Past? Future? What is any spring but a mindless rearrangement of cells in the crust of the spinning earth as it floats in endless circuit of its sun? What is the sun itself but one of a billion insensible stars forever going nowhere into nothingness? Infinity! But soon the merciful valves and switches of his brain begin to do their tired work, and “The spring of Nineteen-Ought-Six,” he is able to say. “Or no, wait-” and his blood runs cold again as the galaxies revolve. “Wait! Nineteen-Ought — Four.”… He may have forgotten the shape of his first wife’s smile and the sound of her voice in tears, but by imposing a set of numerals on her death, he has imposed coherence on his own life and on life itself… “Yes sir,” he can say with authority, “nineteen-Ought-Four,” and the stars tonight will please him as tokens of his ultimate heavenly rest. He has brought order out of chaos.

Not only do Histrionics not understand themselves; they don’t have a clue why anyone does anything. Their understanding of psychology and physics is often tinged with magic. They may believe that things happen because of the alignment of stars, the vibrations of crystals, or the intervention of guardian angels. If you suggest otherwise, they’ll just think you’re crazy.

It didn't matter how much they wanted each other Today the stars too have decided there is no way They could feel the most for each other.... No amount of distance No amount of time Totally different from each other Yet so alike in certain ways It seemed like it could be so perfect What a fulfilling relationship it would be But unfortunately Their stars aren't aligned

And under the cicadas, deeper down that the longest taproot, between and beneath the rounded black rocks and slanting slabs of sandstone in the earth, ground water is creeping. Ground water seeps and slides, across and down, across and down, leaking from here to there, minutely at a rate of a mile a year. What a tug of waters goes on! There are flings and pulls in every direction at every moment. The world is a wild wrestle under the grass; earth shall be moved. What else is going on right this minute while ground water creeps under my feet? The galaxy is careening in a slow, muffled widening. If a million solar systems are born every hour, then surely hundreds burst into being as I shift my weight to the other elbow. The sun’s surface is now exploding; other stars implode and vanish, heavy and black, out of sight. Meteorites are arcing to earth invisibly all day long. On the planet, the winds are blowing: the polar easterlies, the westerlies, the northeast and southeast trades. Somewhere, someone under full sail is becalmed, in the horse latitudes, in the doldrums; in the northland, a trapper is maddened, crazed, by the eerie scent of the chinook, the sweater, a wind that can melt two feet of snow in a day. The pampero blows, and the tramontane, and the Boro, sirocco, levanter, mistral. Lick a finger; feel the now. Spring is seeping north, towards me and away from me, at sixteen miles a day. Along estuary banks of tidal rivers all over the world, snails in black clusters like currants are gliding up and down the stems of reed and sedge, migrating every moment with the dip and swing of tides. Behind me, Tinker Mountain is eroding one thousandth of an inch a year. The sharks I saw are roving up and down the coast. If the sharks cease roving, if they still their twist and rest for a moment, they die. They need new water pushed into their gills; they need dance. Somewhere east of me, on another continent, it is sunset, and starlings in breathtaking bands are winding high in the sky to their evening roost. The mantis egg cases are tied to the mock-orange hedge; within each case, within each egg, cells elongate, narrow, and split; cells bubble and curve inward, align, harden or hollow or stretch. And where are you now?

I can’t fucking believe you,” I snarled. His face shifted in the beginnings of surprise. “Everything has just gotten interesting, and you think I’m just going to run away? When there’s a fight to fight? When that piece of shit has my crown?” I stepped closer, even though it was dangerous, even though that put us so close that our bodies were nearly aligned, my head tipped up to hold his stare, a sneer over my nose. “Fuck you, Raihn,” I whispered. “Fuck you.

Why the ancient civilizations who built the place did not use the easier, nearby rocks remains a mystery. But the skills and knowledge on display at Stonehenge are not. The major phases of construction took a total of a few hundred years. Perhaps the preplanning took another hundred or so. You can build anything in half a millennium - I don't care how far you choose to drag your bricks. Furthermore, the astronomy embodied in Stonehenge is not fundamentally deeper than what can be discovered with a stick in the ground. Perhaps these ancient observatories perennially impress modern people because modern people have no idea how the Sun, Moon, or stars move. We are too busy watching evening television to care what's going on in the sky. To us, a simple rock alignment based on cosmic patterns looks like an Einsteinian feat. But a truly mysterious civilization would be one that made no cultural or architectural reference to the sky at all.

Image intensifiers, which ultimately became “night vision” Fiber optics Supertenacity fibers Lasers Molecular alignment metallic alloys Integrated circuits and microminiaturization of logic boards HARP (High Altitude Research Project) Project Horizon (moon base) Portable atomic generators (ion propulsion drive) Irradiated food “Third brain” guidance systems (EBE headbands) Particle beams (“Star Wars” antimissile energy weapons) Electromagnetic propulsion systems Depleted uranium projectiles

The decision to create a book trailer is entirely up to you. I can remember when "video killed the radio star" on MTV and how excited I was with some music videos (the ones that lived up to or exceeded my imagined vision of the song) and the ones I disliked so much, I even stopped listening to the song (the imagery just ruined it for me!) Some people argue that in a visual landscape, a book trailer is a must, while others stand firm that books should be read and not seen; unless of course it gets made into a screenplay and then a film. The most practical advice is to trust your instinct. You know what you want to say with your book and if it aligns congruently with your brand, then for a non-fiction book it may be a strategic move. On the other hand, it may come off as too "salesy" and go in the opposite direction. As you can see, I still have a love / hate relationship with matching someone else's images to my own imagination. No matter what you decide, remember to keep it aligned with your brand.

(It’s a doozy! I could listen to it all day long.) Nikki Lane—“Gone, Gone, Gone,” “Coming Home to You” Patterson Hood—“Belvedere,” “Back of a Bible” Ryan Bingham—“Guess Who’s Knocking” American Aquarium—“Casualties” Devil Doll—“The Things You Make Me Do” American Aquarium—“I’m Not Going to the Bar” Hank Williams Jr.—“Family Tradition” David Allan Coe—“Mama Tried” John Paul Keith—“She’ll Dance to Anything” Carl Perkins—“Honey, Don’t” Scott H. Biram—“Lost Case of Being Found” The Cramps—“The Way I Walk” The Reverend Horton Heat—“Jimbo Song” Justin Townes Earle—“Baby’s Got a Bad Idea” Old Crow Medicine Show—“Wagon Wheel,” “Hard to Love” Dirty River Boys—“My Son” JD McPherson—“Wolf Teeth” Empress of Fur—“Mad Mad Bad Bad Mama” Dwight Yoakam—“Little Sister” The Meteors—“Psycho for Your Love” Hayes Carll—“Love Don’t Let Me Down” HorrorPops—“Dotted with Hearts” Buddy Holly—“Because I Love You” Chris Isaak—“Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing” Jason Isbell—“The Devil Is My Running Mate” Lindi Ortega—“When All the Stars Align” Three Bad Jacks—“Scars” Kasey Anderson and the Honkies—“My Blues, My Love

In astrology, jog means alignment of the stars that results in favourable conditions for an activity. From jog comes the word ‘jogadu’, the resourceful individual, a word typically used in the eastern parts of India for one who is able to create alignment and connections in a world full of misalignment and disconnections. The word ‘jogadu’ has given rise to the words ‘jugad’ and ‘jugadu’ in the northern parts of India, where it means improvisation and even by-passing the system. Sadly, today, jugad is used in a negative sense, for it is practised for the self at the cost of the other, in the spirit of adharma, not dharma.

The stars aligned for Justin Trudeau in the last few weeks of the campaign. "Ultimately, voters opted for a change of government. If the Liberals hadn't done all their work. the NDP would have won the election. Anyway, the strongest desire felt by voters was to get rid of the Conservatives," says pollster Jean-Marc Leger. In Quebec, Trudeau exceeded all expectations by winning 40 of the province's 78 seats. Vote-splitting by the NDP and the Bloc handed victory to the Liberals in several Quebec ridings. The last time the Liberals had made that many gains was in 1980 when Pierre Elliot Trudeau won 74 of the province's 75 seats. The Liberals swept the four Atlantic provinces, a historical first. The party won all 32 seats there, in strongholds where the Conservatives were well established. The Liberal game plan - whatever its shortcomings - had what it took to get the Liberal Party of Canada from third place to victory in a single election. This was another historical first. "To turn a situation like that around the way Trudeau did is exceptional," says Jean-Marc Leger. "There was a desire for him to succeed, and he did succeed." For Justin Trudeau, the Trudeau name had long been both an asset and a liability. The son had inherited his father's old party but now he had rebuilt it in his own image. He had run his campaign his way. This was his victory, and his alone.

They dated," Frank says, with just a little too much relish. "For two years. They were the shiniest golden couple of our class. What a match, you know? Both gorgeous. She's super smart--does student government, debate, choir, all that business. He does the sports and volunteers with his dad's church, has those puppy eyes that make you want to buy him a boat--" "Do they?" "Yes, gaze deeply into his eyes next time--you'll feel it." He takes a long draw from his drink and then continues. "Anyway, they were the kind of couple where it's like, separate--they're great. But together, it's . . . star magic." "Star magic?" "From the universe. Celestial bodies aligning and shit. That kind of magic.

It’s destiny; the stars have aligned perfectly to bring us together as friends. You cannot argue with what’s meant to be, once the stars have spoken, it is absolute,” he uttered, all smug and knowing. Shocked that he used the word destiny, I cocked my head and shot him a look—for the first time actually seeing Parker. He was pretty…too pretty to be a guy; streaky blond hair—as if each streak had been strategically placed—dark eyes, pale skin, and a charming smile that dimpled in one cheek. “Destiny has already found me, with a clearly marked path for my future,” I retorted. “Then you are doubly fortunate, to have it find you twice.” Parker smiled again, his eyes eerily piercing into mine.

It’s destiny; the stars have aligned perfectly to bring us together as friends. You cannot argue with what’s meant to be, once the stars have spoken, it is absolute,” he uttered, all smug and knowing. Shocked that he used the word destiny, I cocked my head and shot him a look—for the first time actually seeing Parker. He was pretty…too pretty to be a guy; streaky blond hair—as if each streak had been strategically placed—dark eyes, pale skin, and a charming smile that dimpled in one cheek. “Destiny has already found me, with a clearly marked path for my future,” I retorted. “Then you are doubly fortunate, to have it find you twice.” Parker smiled again, his eyes eerily piercing into mine.

Everything has just gotten interesting,” I said, “and you think I’m just going to run away? When there’s a fight to fight? When that piece of shit has my crown?” I stepped closer, even though it was dangerous, even though that put us so close that our bodies were nearly aligned, my head tipped up to hold his stare, a sneer over my nose. “Fuck you, Raihn,” I whispered. “Fuck you.” He took me in for a long moment, unblinking. And we broke that suspended silence at the same time. I didn’t know who moved first. The kiss was like a thunderstorm over the summer desert—a torrent that swept in all at once, obliterating the heat, so all-consuming that suddenly you remember nothing but the rain. All at once, he was everywhere.

As you get older, the abstract concept of love won't be exciting anymore. This is a good thing. The exact details of an imaginary boyfriend used to keep my mind in a never-ending fantasy groove. Real life was always a disappointment because the narrative of romance in my head was completely unattainable. Love should be about aligning your life with another person, not a place of make-believe you can escape to where you always feel high, are the star of the show and unquestioningly adored. But passion awaits me. And it awaits you, too, if love is what you're looking for. No matter how old or young we are, no matter how little or how much we've loved or lost, all of us deserve an occasional pair of arms around our waist as we stir the soup on the stove. It should never feel unavailable to us.

We love the unexpected, the gloriously chaotic combination of a million different elements. We love things that have history. We’re not looking for perfection. If we love something, we will find a way to make it fit. We love rock ’n’ roll style as well as farmhouse. We love boho and hippie and country. The truth is, we’re a little of all those things combined. You could say we have commitment issues. We love color, but we also love white. We love vintage concert posters mixed with red-lacquered Asian pieces, then combined with chippy, peely farmhouse furniture and maybe topped off with fringed velvet curtains. For us, the design process is a gut-wrenchingly beautiful thing, a deeply meditative process, a cultural exploration of who you are, and it’s one of the most personal things you can do. If a home is set up the right way, there’s something you can feel, and it’s not for anyone else; it’s for yourself. All the stars (or the chandeliers) align, and you just know: It’s right.

MARTIN SHEEN: Terry called me one night, and he had done so after finally making a decision. His gut hunch was to hire me, but he had other considerations, or an obligation to sort through his casting agent’s suggestions. He asked me if I was still interested. I got up just before sunrise and started driving the Pacific Coast Highway to the tune of Bob Dylan’s “Desolation Road.” It was one of the most profound moments of my life. Dylan, who was one of my personal heroes, had cracked something wide open inside of me. I was experiencing an epiphany. There was a realization of what just happened to me. I started to weep, and pulled the car over on the highway and reflected on this. My happiness. Before that phone call, I would have never thought that such a thing would happen to me. I realized that acting was no joke. You don’t show up on a set and just decide that you are going to throw yourself out there without preparation. Me being there was no accident. The stars had aligned and Badlands was a role of a lifetime. I have Terry Malick to thank for it.

My great-grandmother read people’s fortunes and aligned her gardens with the stars. This was always said before a long, dramatic pause. Nana never wanted to talk about her. If I said anything about astrology or being a Cancer, my grandmother would go move quick to hush me. I heard different stories about my great-grandmother, cautionary tales about what could happen if you leaned in hard on that intuition. I don’t know the full story, but I also know that she was a card reader in Waco, Texas, at a time when that was not done. She was considered crazy by a lot of people in town. That buckle on the Bible Belt can come down hard and leave a mark. But I’d stare in the mirror at my brown eyes and high cheekbones, convinced I was Native American. More than that, we Simpson girls, my mother included, all seemed a little witchy. A nicer word would be intuitive. We had a good sense of people from the get-go and we often knew what was going to happen before it happened. Sometimes we chalked it up to our faith that God would provide, sometimes to just paying attention. But often it felt like we knew what was destined to be. Everything that happened in my life just felt preordained. Still does.

Dear Circle of Life, The impression of you is so unique in the most exquisite ways. With you, there is a beginning and an end. You are the representation of birth and life. The in-between is survival, and the ending is death. The idea of life is just what it is when we arrive on the earth—our life is a circle, if you will, a 360. Once our wheels stop spinning, it rolls slowly until it completely stops. I believe there is a limitation to the circle of life—if there wasn’t, life would continue without end. Things are never certain, for there are always uncertain changes in the circle of life. In this universal symbol, there is repurpose in another life. You are everywhere and nowhere at the same time. How can that be? I guess because you are energetic. We are wholeness in another world, but here on earth, we are here to play the game from the cards that we are dealt until our time runs out. A world without end—that is interesting. I guess it is true because when we go to a new dimension, there is no such thing as an ending. Once we pass over, we originate into our infinite perfection. The self sees and feels no more back- biting, hurt, pain, depression, despair, and all the bullshit that follows. The circle of life has no blame, solitude, or default. Everything is what it is ... because it is perfect! I am aligned with the frequency and vibration of the moon and the stars.

I had been walking through the Chakara Forest. Fat moths the size of palms wreathed my hair like pearls and moonstones. And then, as I had done since before language burgeoned in the velvet clefts of the mind--I danced. Not a slow dance, but sharp, punctual movements. My dance organized the shadows of trees, canceled the cloying plumes of wind-fallen fruit, aligned the moonbeams themselves. My back arced gracefully as I moved, neck extended like an oryx, fingers conjuring sharp kathas of rhythm, when a sound crunched not far from me. I spun around. “Who’s there?” From beneath the heart-shaped leaves of a peepal tree, something rustled. And a voice, so lush it made ambrosia acrid, answered me. “Only the lowly painter who tries each night, in vain, to capture evening herself.” “What do you want? Show yourself.” The stranger stepped out of the peepal tree. He was broad-shouldered, his features as severely beautiful as a strike of lightning. He wore a crown of blackbuck horns that arced in graceful whorls of onyx, catching the light. But it was his gaze that robbed the clamoring rhythm in my chest. His stare slipped beneath my skin. And when he saw my eyes widen, he smiled. And in that moment, his smile banished my loneliness and limned the hollows of my anima with starlight, pure and bright. He moved toward me, grasping my hand, and his touch hummed in my bones like an aria. A song to my dance. The beginning of a promise.

In January 2004 President George W. Bush put NASA in high gear, heading back to the moon with a space vision that was to have set in motion future exploration of Mars and other destinations. The Bush space policy focused on U.S. astronauts first returning to the moon as early as 2015 and no later than 2020. Portraying the moon as home to abundant resources, President Bush did underscore the availability of raw materials that might be harvested and processed into rocket fuel or breathable air. “We can use our time on the moon to develop and test new approaches and technologies and systems that will allow us to function in other, more challenging, environments. The moon is a logical step toward further progress and achievement,” he remarked in rolling out his space policy. To fulfill the Bush space agenda required expensive new rockets—the Ares I launcher and the large, unfunded Ares V booster—plus a new lunar module, all elements of the so-called Constellation Program. The Bush plan forced retirement of the space shuttle in 2010 to pay for the return to the moon, but there were other ramifications as well. Putting the shuttle out to pasture created a large human spaceflight gap in reaching the International Space Station. The price tag for building the station is roughly $100 billion, and without the space shuttle, there’s no way to reach it without Russian assistance. In the end, the stars of the Constellation Program were out of financial alignment. It was an impossible policy to implement given limited NASA money.

The stars aligned as generations of messengers brought each of us where we now stand, while the ocean waves propelled their journeys in ways we can't imagine.

If just one more crazy thing had happened, I'd have started mumbling about pufferfish cookies: how to align the eggs, milk and sugar pixel by pixel on the crafting table in a purrfect way to achieve a five star rating from the International Minecraftian Baker's Society, in not only consistency but form and texture, the lightness of the bread, crisp yet never crumbling, with each tiny cube of sugar and baked pufferfish spread evenly throughout the biscuits to achieve a pastry both magnificent to the eye and simply bursting with flavor. But then I wasn't sure if the International Minecraftian Baker's Society had such a refined taste as a Nether Kitten's, and soon I began to wonder if any of them would appreciate the elegance of a cookie made of equal parts sugar and fish.

She , Soul-Seer, Healer of hearts Soother of Hurts Keeper of Mystical Keys Her eyes gazing at the ethers The Moon her wise counsel The Sun her radiant protector The Stars her Angels The grounding earth her energies The still waters her depth Her tongue the fire of the holy spirit Her will symmetrically aligned As with laws of ancient lands She that foretold secrets Unlocking Mysteries of untold Sagas Taking measure of legends from Kings and queens High Priestess , Warrior, Gypsy Queen She that sits enthroned waiting She, no Man’s slave , Kings have bowed to her Queens harken her advise No ordinary Mortal will do for her Only her immortal beloved half They were both forged in blood , dust and bone Their Hearts sealed as one by their sire For Immortals are not born but created Made in God’s eternal Twinflame fire ~ JC © 2020

To reach spiritual synchronicity Me, myself and I Emit our own frequency Hear the symphony of the universe Align with the dance of stars Radiate with power and energy Feel the divine spirit drawing us to our future self And travel beyond the limitations of space and time.

But if you could just arrange for us to meet?” I press gently. She pins me with a stern glare. “He is only in town for one more day. There really isn’t enough time.” I narrow my eyes. “If the match is good, surely we would know within the first hour. We wouldn’t need a day to decide.” Mrs. Pimms blots her letter with fast, efficient moves. “He has rejected every one of the young ladies I paraded in front of him.” That, more than anything, makes me determined to meet him. “Ah, a kindred soul,” I quip. “Perhaps the stars will align

can’t fucking believe you,” I snarled. His face shifted in the beginnings of surprise. “Everything has just gotten interesting,” I said, “and you think I’m just going to run away? When there’s a fight to fight? When that piece of shit has my crown?” I stepped closer, even though it was dangerous, even though that put us so close that our bodies were nearly aligned, my head tipped up to hold his stare, a sneer over my nose. “Fuck you, Raihn,” I whispered. “Fuck you.

You're allowed to shine like the brightest star.

Created with the perfect blend of stardust, shadows, and light, you're all those things and more.

You can’t just leave here,” Van concludes. “And Raegel can’t just let you go. It would be better if you saw this for what it actually is.” “And what’s that, Van?” She grins and her sapphire eyes light with amusement. “One of those times the stars align and everything works out for everyone.” I want to believe that that’s true, I really do. But I can’t quite bring myself to believe that it really is that easy, and my doubt comes out when I reply. “Isn’t that lucky for everyone involved?” Van throws her head back and laughs. “Luck has everything to do with it.

In melodies of longing, my heart does play, A saxophonist's soul, in love's ballet. Our meetings planned, yet fate intervenes, A cosmic dance, behind the scenes. His saxophone whispers in the midnight air, Each note a promise, a love affair. Yet life's interruptions, a relentless rhyme, But through the strains, love stands the test of time. In dreams, I see his star ascending high, Prosperity blooms beneath the sky. His saxophone weaves dreams untold, A symphony of success, a story to unfold. I yearn for his pain to gently sway, In the cadence of a brighter day. For within my love, a healing balm, To soothe his soul, bring tranquil calm. As dreams align, and stars align, May his saxophone play a melody divine. In the crescendo of life, may joy take flight, And love's song serenade the darkest night.

If you wait until everything’s perfect, until all your differences have been settled and all the stars have aligned just right, then you miss your chance at happiness.

Taoists believe that there is an immense benevolent force flowing through all reality, and that each of us—at least our essences—are a part of that force. Once you’re aligned with this force (the Tao, or “Way”), you’re like a surfer on the perfect wave; you move forward with tremendous power, but the only thing you have to do is go up when the water goes up, and down when the water goes down.

We were never supposed to happen, and yet I love you still. I can’t tell you how many times over the last month I’ve wondered if the stars aligned for us. And I agree,” she added, sniffling. “I don’t know what happens next. But I know I’ll never let you go, Jaxson. You’ll always be a part of me.

For all of the most important things, the timing always sucks. Waiting for a good time to quit your job? The stars will never align and the traffic lights of life will never all be green at the same time.

When you align Earth with God, when you stand between the Below and the Above and encourage yourself to accept each, embrace both and become both, you begin to reach a deeper layer of conscious consciousness. Let yourself be curious about this moment and remember where you're juggling the Above and Below inside. Tell where you are most associated with Source energies. How do you respond to every manifestation? How do you build equilibrium in your body and in your work, externally? •       Just imagine. You are practically straddling these two universes even when you're reading those words. Within one glorious shape you are the above and below. Now let yourself feel that strength, that connection. Let your hands open and imagine the blinding stream of eternal white light streaming through all the entities flowing through and into the bottom of your feet, from the middle of the Moon, through Gaia and the great Earth Star, through the Rot and residual chakras, through the Crown to the Soul Star and beyond, to the farthest worlds. •       Then see the very top of your head open to the sky, causing the bright stream of celestial light energy to return from the farthest reaches of the universe through the star systems and constellations, down through the Earth's atmosphere and into the chakras of your Soul Star and Earth Star, through the central column, down through the lower chakras and back... here. Here in the womb of the Mother; here in the uppermost realms of Gaia; here, where mortals live, know, grow, love, laugh, lose and discover. In this place energy becomes matter. •       Ye are here. This is. You can relax here, be free, linked and be able to release no energy in your holy service any more. Say, "Guardian Angels, bless us as we combine the beauty and wisdom of the upper and lower worlds, softly or openly. Bring us peace as we stand among the worlds and broaden our consciousness to reflect universal love and unity. Amen, A'ho, So it is. "• Take a deep breath to finish this induction. Imagine, on the exhale, lowering a huge golden anchor down behind you into the Earth. Feel the foundation like you do, as it reinforces and encourages you. Let yourself rest here, knowing you're safe, whole and fine. Those are the Root Chakra presents. May they still do you well.

When the stars aligned to show us what’s in our hearts, how could we ignore it?

I’ll love you when the stars align and even when they don’t.

Equation: mv In English: Mass times velocity The special part: It has a specific direction assigned to it. Mass and velocity are multiplied together to get the magnitude of the momentum, so a large 200-pound man jogging 5 miles per hour (mph) (200 * 5 = 1000) and a petite 100-pound woman running 10 mph (100 * 10 = 1000) will each hit you with the same momentum and knock you back just as hard. The only difference between mass and velocity when it comes to momentum is that the velocity is what gives momentum its direction. This means if you tackle someone, the direction of the momentum you transfer to your opponent is the same as the direction you were running before the tackle. This may seem like a trivial statement at first, but the directional component of momentum is the key to redirecting and controlling an otherwise unstoppable blow. A high-momentum strike, or “push” strike, has the ability to move your opponent, or parts of your opponent, and that is an incredibly powerful tool to have in a fight. If your opponent is rigid, light on his feet, or if you strike him near his center of mass, a high-momentum strike can push him back, knock him off balance, push the air out of his lungs, or even send him to the floor if the stars are aligned properly. If your opponent is loose, a high-momentum strike to the hands can move them away from his face and leave him open. Whether he is loose or stiff, a high-momentum strike to the chin can make your opponent’s head rotate quickly about the base of his skull, resulting in a knockout.

The Babylonian Magi, whose tradition was influenced by the teachings of the exilic prophet Daniel, had followed the final sign in the heavens that pointed to the birth of Messiah. It was written that when the constellation Virgo was on the horizon, clothed with the sun and the moon under her feet, with twelve stars above her head, she would give birth to a divine king. This was because the king planet Jupiter aligned in conjunction with the king star Regulus over her head creating a bright star. The Magi observed that sign in the year 750 AUC, seven hundred and fifty years from the founding of the city of Rome. The star Regulus is in the constellation of Leo the Lion.

The more audacity you have, the faster the universe aligns its stars in your favor.

It’s okay. One of these years the stars will align, and we’ll both get each other something at the same time.

The universe has an uncanny way of Threading two humans by an invisible string Passing each other daily Sharing occasional glances Exchanging a lighthearted quip about the Unfamiliar person with others Unaware that a single stranger Would transform into a cherished treasure Never to be parted with The universe, keeping them apart until the stars align “There is no such thing as right person, wrong time.

As you get older. the abstract concept of love won't be exciting anymore. This is a good thing. The exact details of an imaginary boyfriend used to keep my mind in a never-ending fantasy groove. Real life was always a disappointment because the narrative of romance in my head was completely unattainable. Love should be about aligning your life with another person, not a place of make-believe you can escape to where you always feel high, are the star of the show and unquestioningly adored. But passion awaits me. And it awaits you, too, if love is what you're looking for. No matter how old or young we are, no matter how little or how much we've loved or lost, all of us deserve an occasional pair of arms around our waist as we stir the soup on the stove. It should never feel unavailable to us.

Another switch flipped, and Bryce staggered back a step as a full holographic replica of their solar system exploded into view, orbiting the dangling sun in the center of the space. Tharion blew out what she could only assume was an impressed breath. Ithan scanned above them, like he could find his brother in that map. Bryce didn’t wait for them before trailing the old male up the walkway as the seven planets aligned themselves perfectly, stars glittering in the far reaches of the room.

Sometimes the fates align us with what we need most.

And if you don’t come back, I will tell everyone that you were swept off your feet by a handsome prince and living happily ever after.

sometimes I think we will always come back to each other. not by chance, but by choice. there is no magnetic pull, no right time or right place. the stars are not aligned for us. so we reach our hands up to the night sky and rearrange the ourselves.

Felt his world tilt onto its axis before the stars aligned. Felt like falling off the cliff, but only now, there was a safety net at the very bottom to catch him.

I couldn't let go of my star, not even if she was meant to align with the rest of the universe.

Your first and most urgent task. Dearest Lancelot, It’s time for you to learn the ways of the Zodiac Guild. The last of us lie dead, but I am the only one who found a grave. My death was planned meticulously for this purpose. And in my death, I can only hope you are the man Queen Vega foresaw you to be. It is time for you to resurrect the Guild. You will take Ling Astrum’s position as Guild Master and initiate your most trusted, loyal friends to its cause. The Imperial Star awaits you in my tomb at The Everhill Graveyard. Know this, it can only be wielded by a reigning sovereign, so it must stay out of Lionel Acrux’s hands if he has ascended to the throne. If things have gone as hoped, you will have access to the rings of the Vega Princesses. Both are needed to open the tomb, but be warned, this ancient graveyard is heavily protected. Only those proficient in dark magic can enter. Go now while the stars are in alignment. You can do this, my boy.

If songs were made of colors, “Stars Align” would most certainly be a rainbow.

The professional, on the other hand, understands delayed gratification. He is the ant, not the grasshopper; the tortoise, not the hare. Have you heard the legend of Sylvester Stallone staying up three nights straight to churn out the screenplay for Rocky? I don't know, it may even be true. But it's the most pernicious species of myth to set before the awakening writer, because it seduces him into believing he can pull off the big score without pain and without persistence. The professional arms himself with patience, not only to give the stars time to align in his career, but to keep himself from flaming out in each individual work. He knows that any job, whether it's a novel or a kitchen remodel, takes twice as long as he thinks and costs twice as much. He accepts that. He recognizes it as reality. The professional steels himself at the start of a project, reminding himself it is the Iditarod, not the sixty-yard dash. He conserves his energy. He prepares his mind for the long haul. He sustains himself with the knowledge that if he can just keep those huskies mushing, sooner or later the sled will pull in to Nome.

Some card-playerd carry good luck charms. I never believed in luck, until I started to lose. Then I blamed my luck, the shoes I was wearing, the alignment of the fucking stars. Everything apart from myself.

For some people, the stars aligned and everything went right. For him everything went wrong, every time. When he wanted something, when he reached for it, life broke him, yet somehow he always survived.

More that point, there had to be some rule about not running with explosives. Not that I was ever much on rules. I considered them loose guidelines or suggestions, unless they aligned with my current goals.

Every now and then, the stars align, boy and girl meet by the great design… Could it be that you and me are the lucky ones?

Men like Wyn studied the black holes, the celestial bodies, the stars and their alignments. I studied beyond those things. I studied past and present and future. I studied connectivity and meaning. I did not research black holes because I wanted to know how they formed, where they had come from. I studied them because I wanted to know where they would lead.

A reversal plan for negative underachievers should aim to transform them in the least into positive underachievers. For example, with an energy drainer, the goal should be to nurture qualities that align with the BEST FOUR, fostering a transition into a passionate or super star. Once the shift occurs, focus on providing empowerment needs tailored to the new positive underachiever category.

Our stars don’t align. We’re not even in the same galaxy.

I give the command and adhere to the impulses arising from the same power that balances the stars and spins the earth and galaxies into perfect alignment

Five earls, three barons, and sixteen knights were implicated in the uprising, yet Shakespeare survived that rebellion unremarked upon. He was not summoned before the Star Chamber like Marlowe. He did not have his papers seized or his books burned. He was not punished in any way. Although clearly aligned with the Essex faction, he wasn’t even called as a witness. Who was protecting Shakespeare at this point? The

Five earls, three barons, and sixteen knights were implicated in the uprising, yet Shakespeare survived that rebellion unremarked upon. He was not summoned before the Star Chamber like Marlowe. He did not have his papers seized or his books burned. He was not punished in any way. Although clearly aligned with the Essex faction, he wasn’t even called as a witness. Who was protecting Shakespeare at this point?

The intelligence that evolved us from star dust and interconnects us with all beings is sufficient for the healing of our Earth community, if we but align with that purpose.

Instead, she went over the data again and again until she could recite the exact alignment numbers for the telescope input without looking, then slept for an hour to avoid spending half the night with her forehead on the keyboard again, and finally drove back up Mouna Kea. Its switchbacks twisted her through the cloud line after three-quarters of an hour, giving her a beautiful, turkey-red sunset with long streaks on the horizon for the last 20 minutes of driving. They looked like the fingers of a doomed deity clinging hotly to the Earth. The majesty of the sight plucked a chord in her that her intense dream on the keyboard of her workstation had strummed and never let go. The universe was still a fascinating place—whether out there among the stars, or down here on the blue paradise they called Earth

The right people will always find you, like stars aligning in the midnight sky. Following you..guiding you.. towards your destined constellation of companionship.

Everytime your hand is in mine The fate lines on my palm soften As if they’re bringing our stars align We should hold hands more often.

As you get older, the abstract concept of love won’t be exciting anymore. This is a good thing. The exact details of an imaginary boyfriend used to keep my mind in a never-ending fantasy groove. Real life was always a disappointment because the narrative of romance in my head was completely unattainable. Love should be about aligning your life with another person, not a place of make-believe you can escape to where you always feel high, are the star of the show and unquestioningly adored.

You can’t just leave here,” Van concludes. “And Raegel can’t just let you go. It would be better if you saw this for what it actually is.” “And what’s that, Van?” She grins and her sapphire eyes light with amusement. “One of those times the stars align and everything works out for everyone.” I want to believe that that’s true, I really do. But I can’t quite bring myself to believe that it really is that easy, and my doubt comes out when I reply. “Isn’t that lucky for everyone involved?” Van throws her head back and laughs. “Luck has everything to do with it.

I opposed secession. I thought that was the right decision. But I lost, and I happen to believe in the legal and political systems of Hypatia. I lost,” she repeated, “…and if this man—this monster—is going to come into my star system and murder hundreds of thousands of my fellow citizens, of my people, and tell me his actions have been approved by the Solarian League, then thank God I did.” She looked around the table again, her eyes like iron. “I don’t know about this ‘Mesan Alignment’ the Manticorans and the Havenites are talking about. I don’t know about an awful lot of things, but I just discovered how horribly wrong I’ve been about one thing I thought I did know. I thought I knew the Solarian League was worth saving.

The number one goal for these meetings is to make sure that all leaders across the company are highly aligned on what I call our North Star: the general direction we are running in. We don’t need to be aligned on how each department is going to get where they are going—that we leave to the individual areas—but we do need to make sure we are all moving in the same direction.

You know what I think about? I think about perfect matches. You know how with an organ donation a perfect match isn’t really perfect? There’s still a chance of rejection, even if all the stars align like they did for you and Benny. Nothing is ever perfect. There’s just matches that have a higher chance of working than others. Maybe you guys were like that. It could have worked, but you’d spend your whole life forcing it.

Eslyn was the right age, shape, size. The stars had aligned, he told me, flatly. We might as well take advantage. I was grateful that the corpse had not yet begun to smell. It was one less thing to find horrifying as we hacked off Eslyn’s head at the throat.

They modify themselves, push themselves, to be able to Wield that fourth layer of magic,” she said. “But human flesh was never meant to withstand that. And sometimes, it doesn’t. That’s when you get A’Maril. Toxicity sickness, from Wielding magic not intended for you.” “But…why? Why now?” “Why does any illness choose its target? A’Maril is so often random. Maybe she pushed a little too far or stayed down there a little too long. Maybe she hit some toxic pocket of magic. Maybe she ate undercooked meat five days ago, which interfered with her body in just the right way, and the stars aligned. We just don’t know enough about it. But…” Her face hardened. “Eslyn has been taking extra risks, lately.” “Zeryth’s potions.” Nura nodded, barely. Because of the vials that Zeryth gave her before battles — the ones that made her so much stronger. I understood that whatever he was doing to create them played a role in his decline. It stood to reason that it would play a role in Eslyn’s, too.