If there is another life he will find her there.

“Adopted children are self invented because we have to be. There's an absence, a void, a question mark at the very beginning of our…

— Jeanette Winterson

“The baby explodes into an unknown world that is only knowable through some kind of a story - of course that is how we…

— Jeanette Winterson

I mean, is there a chance for me? To have another life after this, a better one?

— Cassandra Clare

For many observers, a child who has known nothing but war, a child for whom the Kalashnikov is the only way to make a…

— Ishmael Beah

I wasn't born with a tie or with Mark Shields stapled to my left hip. I have another life.

— David Brooks

“The vibrations he felt in his sleep had nothing to do with his soul easing out of his body as he dreamily thought; they…

— Author-Poet Aberjhani

“Let me give you a bit of advice.' the girl said bitterly, 'from one working girl to another; life isn't easy, no matter where…

— Sarah J. Maas

Whatever you have received more than others-in health, in talents, in ability, in success, in a pleasant childhood, in harmonious conditions of home life-all…

— Albert Schweitzer

Literature duplicates the experience of living in a way that nothing else can, drawing you so fully into another life that you temporarily forget…

— Barbara Kingsolver

And whatever my life had been up to that day, it was another life after that. And that is the gospel truth.

— Sebastian Barry

I couldn't even think about wanting to be something else; I wouldn't let myself visualize another life. But I wrote because I couldn't stop.…

— Jay-Z

In another life, I would be your girl. Capable of making promises. We would rule the world.

— Katy Perry

“I love the dark hours of my being. My mind deepens into them. There I can find, as in old letters, the days of…

— Rainer Maria Rilke

When you chopped logs with the ax and they split open they smelled beautiful, like Christmas. But when you split someone's head open it…

— Kate Atkinson

“Small memories of another life flutter through my head like moths — all grey images and tearstains”

— A.R. Kahler