The ghosts that exert the most power in people__ lives-at least, the people I know__end to be of their own making, and consist of equal parts regret and old fears and just plain missing somebody.
Did you know, that one night; one moonless, clear, shining night; with the shadowy silhouettes of trees crisp against the star-filled sky _ I, on the high, level terrace of my flat, stretched out my hand! Against all odds and possibilities of unbelief and grief _ a life of searchings, discontent, and a nagging sense of unreality_ A spider-web intuition of a spread-out, intricate illusion that wilfully withheld the truth from me.
Our Particular Shadows
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Did you know, that one night; one moonless, clear, shining night; with the shadowy silhouettes of trees crisp against the star-filled sky _ I, on the high, level terrace of my flat, stretched out my hand! Against all odds and possibilities of unbelief and grief _ a life of searchings, discontent, and a nagging sense of unreality_ A spider-web intuition of a spread-out, intricate illusion that wilfully withheld the truth from me.
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Misguided good men are more dangerous than honest bad men. It is because they are seen as good that, in and by good conscience, the mob will always, stubbornly back them without question.
Cathy, don't look so defeated. She was only trying to put us downagain.Maybe nothing did work out right for her, but that doesn't mean we aredoomed. Let's go forth tomorrow with no great expectations of findingperfection. Then, expecting only a small share of happiness, we won'tbe disappointed."If a little hill of happiness would satisfy Chris, good for him. Butafter all these years of striving, hoping, dreaming, longing-I wanted amountain high! A hill wasn't enough. From this day forward, I vowedto myself, I was in control of my life. Not fate, notGod, not even Chris was ever again going to tell me what to do, ordominate me in any way. From this day forward, I was my own person, totake what I would, when I would, and I would answer only to myself. I'dbeen kept prisoner, held captive by greed. I'd been betrayed,deceived, tied to, used, poisoned ... but all that was over now.
I wish I knew how to get you back. And apparently fate won't let me give up"From Central Park Song: a Screenplay
And all this while the subtle-souled girl asking herself why she was born, why sitting in a room, and blinking at the candle; why things around her had taken the shape they wore in preference to every other possible shape.