She lifted the book to her nose and inhaled the scent lingering in its cardboard bones: a hint of rosewater and Lysol that instantly genie-summoned the Blue Moon Lodge. It was Winnemucca condensed, this book, the only thing she owned that could still predictably take her from here to there.

When you love someone with all your heart,no matter the person's imperfections. All that will matter to you above all is that love you have for the person.

I was a disaster child. I remember I make very often my mother cry.

I take the only desire one can really permit oneself. Freedom, Alvah, freedom.” “You call that freedom?” “To ask nothing. To expect nothing. To depend on nothing.

Written By Ayn Rand

About us

Featured posts

Featured Topics

Quick Links