A pity to survive night flights over St. Georges Channel only to crack my skull falling from a ladder.
Eoin ColferMots clés fall pity airman ladder
Mots clés climbing ladder system top
And what, O Queen, are those things that are dear to a man? Are they not bubbles? Is not ambition but an endless ladder by which no height is ever climbed till the last unreachable rung is mounted? For height leads on to height, and there is not resting-place among them, and rung doth grow upon rung, and there is no limit to the number.
H. Rider HaggardMots clés life learning humanity ambition mankind greed materialism want ladder things-that-matter endeavors
What sucked was that her room was on the fourth floor of a four-story house because she hated walking past every other room on her way in and out. She was like a latter-day Rapunzel except her hair was only a few inches below her shoulders, slightly fried, not all that blond, and furthermore, who the hell was ever going to climb up to give her a hand? The guy in the wheelchair from school?
What she — and Rapunzel, frankly — needed was a decent ladder.
Mots clés rooms ladder rapunzel blonde-hair
All's well that ends well.'
'Assuming there's an end somewhere,' Aomame said.
Tamaru formed some short creases near his mouth that were faintly reminiscent of a smile. 'There has to be an end somewhere. It's just that nothing's labeled "This is the end." Is the top rung of a ladder labeled "This is the last rung. Please don't step higher than this'?"
Aomame shook her head.
'It's the same thing,' Tamaru said.
Aomame said, 'If you use common sense and keep your eyes open, it becomes clear enough where the end is.'
Tamaru nodded. 'And even if it doesn't' -- he made a falling gesture with his finger -- 'the end is right there.
Mots clés hope suicide common-sense endings end hopelessness all-s-well-that-ends-well ladder eyes-wide-open keep-going-keep-your-eyes-open
If ever again we happened to lose our balance, just when sleepwalking through the same dream on the brink of hell’s valley, if ever the magical mare (whom I ride through the night air hollowed out into caverns and caves where wild animals live) in a crazy fit of anger over some word I might have said without the perfect sweetness that works on her like a charm, if ever the magic Mare looks over her shoulder and whinnies: “So! You don’t love me!” and bucks me off, sends me flying to the hyenas, if ever the paper ladder that I climb so easily to go pick stars for Promethea—at the very instant that I reach out my hand and it smells like fresh new moon, so good, it makes you believe in god’s genius—if ever at that very instant my ladder catches fire—because it is so fragile, all it would take is someone’s brushing against it tactlessly and all that would be left is ashes—if ever I had the dreadful luck again to find myself falling screaming down into the cruel guts of separation, and emptying all my being of hope, down to the last milligram of hope, until I am able to melt into the pure blackness of the abyss and be no more than night and a death rattle,
I would really rather not be tumbling around without my pencil and paper.
Mots clés writing hope fire abyss ladder
No matter how great you ‘think’ you are or how successful you've become. Never forget those who have lifted you up. Never forget life's experiences, both good and bad which have shaped you as a person. You've had help climbing the rungs of life's ladder. And, those rungs can break at anytime, sending you back down to a place of humility, to remind you of where you came from and how you rose to the top….
James A. MurphyMots clés success humility think forget help remind climbing never successful person rose-hathaway great ladder shaped good-and-bad break matter down top life-s-experiences lifted
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