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Matt Haig

How to Stop Time

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  • Dzawi Kafaцитируетв прошлом году
    ere is a quote below his image.

    We know what we are, but know not what we may be.
  • Dzawi Kafaцитируетв прошлом году
    There is a quote below his image.
  • Dzawi Kafaцитируетв прошлом году
    The longer you live, the harder it becomes. To grab them. Each little moment as it arrives. To be living in something other than the past or the future. To be actually here.
  • salgaraloцитируетв прошлом году
    There is only the present. Just as every object on earth contains similar and interchanging atoms, so every fragment of time contains aspects of every other.

    Yes
  • salgaraloцитируетв прошлом году
    People you love never die.

    That is what Omai had said, all those years ago.

    And he was right. They don’t die. Not completely. They live in your mind, the way they always lived inside you. You keep their light alive. If you remember them well enough, they can still guide you, like the shine of long-extinguished stars could guide ships in unfamiliar waters. If you stop mourning them, and start listening to them, they still have the power to change your life. They can, in short, be salvation
  • salgaraloцитируетв прошлом году
    Finding a happy mystery you would like to unravel for ever
  • salgaraloцитируетв прошлом году
    This ‘Ode on a Grecian Urn’ moment. With a kiss forever a possibility. With her looking at me and me looking at her.
  • salgaraloцитируетв прошлом году
    This ‘Ode on a Grecian Urn’ moment. With a kiss forever a possibility. With her looking at me and me looking at her.
  • salgaraloцитируетв прошлом году
    very strong chance you would think I was insane.’

    ‘Philip K. Dick wrote that it is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane.’

    ‘The sci-fi writer?’

    ‘Yes. I’m a geek. I like science fiction.’

    ‘That’s good,’ I say.

    ‘You like it too?’

    No. I am it, I think to myself.

    ‘Some. Frankenstein. Flowers for Algernon.’
  • salgaraloцитируетв прошлом году
    Anxiety,’ Kierkegaard wrote, in the middle of the nineteenth century, ‘is the dizziness of freedom
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