“And then, some morning in the second week, the mind wakes, comes to life again. Not in a city sense—no—but beach-wise. It… — Anne Morrow Lindbergh Copy Share Image
How thin and insecure is that little beach of white sand we call consciousness. I've always known that in my writing it… — Athol Fugard Copy Share Image
No more cutting grams, and wrapping grands up in rubber-bands, I'm a recovered man, our plans ta discover other lands, suburban places… — Eminem Copy Share Image
I am convinced that the greatest legacy we can leave our children are happy memories: those precious moments so much like pebbles… — Og Mandino Copy Share Image
“Do you think death is the end of everything, Marie-Anne?” “I hope so,” whispered Marieanne. “Here on the Brittany coast we believe… — Nina George Copy Share Image
When we blew the first atomic bomb at White Sands near the end of the war, nobody knew what was going to… — Stephen King Copy Share Image
“I sat up a bit and looked out over the railing toward the ocean. The sight always took my breath away. The… — Dorothea Benton Frank Copy Share Image
It is moonlight. Alone in the silence I ascend my stairs once more, While waves remote in pale blue starlight Crash on… — Conrad Aiken Copy Share Image
“Her mental list of items she’d need from her apartment was growing. There were things a girl just couldn’t live without, so… — Dakota Cassidy Copy Share Image
