“How little we have, I thought, between us and the waiting cold, the mystery, death—a strip of beach, a hill, a few… — Robert Nathan Copy Share Image
“I thought not. And so you were waiting for your people when you sat on that stile?” “For whom, sir?” — Charlotte Brontë Copy Share Image
How little we have, I thought, between us and the waiting cold, the mystery, death--a strip of beach, a hill, a few… — Robert Nathan Copy Share Image
“He looked at the granite. To be cut, he thought, and made into walls. He looked at a tree. To be split… — Ayn Rand Copy Share Image
“I think about this for a long time, secretly hoping he forgets he ever asked the question. His mind has a way… — Daniel Wallace Copy Share Image
