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Dreams, I thought. They're the riches of a poor person, stashed in treasure chests buried deeply in the imagination. But are dreams enough?

Virginia C. Andrews

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Virginia C. Andrews
Dreams
Imagination
Poor
Stashed
Dream
Chests
Thought
Buried
Persons
Riches
Person
Treasure
Enough
Deeply

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I never realized that the blue sky I saw was not the soft, nurturing sky of spring, but the cold, chilling, lonely sky of winter
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Love, how often that word came up in books over and over again. If you had wealth and health, and beauty and talent...you had nothing if you didn't have love. Love changed all that was ordinary into something giddy, powerful, drunken, enchanted.
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The creative genius begins in the idle moment, dreaming up the impossible, and later making it come true.
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...for everything can come to those who have the desire,the drive, the dedication, and the determination. v.c.andrews
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I believe in God... but I don't believe in religion. Religion is used to manipulate and punish. Used in a thousand ways for profit for even in the church, money is still the 'real' God.
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We lived in the attic, Christopher, Cory, Carrie, and me, Now there are only three.
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At the end of the rainbow waited the pot of gold. But rainbows were made of faint and fragile gossamer-and gold weighed a ton-and since the world began, gold was the reason to do most anything.
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Life offers more than one chance, Cathy, you know that.
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you've got to learn something from every defeat in life or life will defeat you.
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Little rabbits have big ears.
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What is normal? Normal is only ordinary mediocre. Life belongs to the rare, exceptional individual who dares to be different.
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Beauty thinks it needs no talent and can feed on itself, so it soon dies.
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Promises are lies wrapped in pretty ribbons -Cinnamon
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People make the rules of society, not God.
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It's funny how when you're little, you miss all the little lies. They float right past you, but you don't wonder about them much. For a long time, you think this is just something adults still do after being kids - pretend.
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Time doesn't heal scars as most people commonly think. It simply makes them firmer, stiffer. One must accept it and not hope to mend and return to what he or she once was.
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Love … I put so much faith in it. Truth … I kept believing it falls always from the lips of the one you love and trust the most. Faith … it’s all bound up to love and trust. Where does one end and the other start, and how do you tell when love is the blindest of all?
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There is no hate such as that born out of love betrayed- and my brain screamed out for revenge.
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Patience. I colored patience gray, hung over with black clouds. I colored hope yellow, just like the sun we could see for a few short morning hours. Too soon the sun rose high in the sky & disappeared from view, leaving us bereft and staring at blue.
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It was the eyes. The secret of love was in the eyes. The way one person looked at another, the way eyes communicated and spoke when the lips never moved.
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