Sara Quotes
We did all the tourist crap, but I just wanted to sit in a cafe and watch people
Around this world will I be enough?From the liquor stores, to the train stop floors, your filthy room, your drama bluesI am nothing if I'm not with you.
So they're looking for a new face, with a voice to go along. I can tell you right now that ain't my style. I don't do no sing alongs, with my freedom.
An angel kissed my strings, while I slept last night. And her rhythm broke my hunger. And I died a little less.
How can they ask why I feel so angry? Do you see my problem if I never explain it?But then there's you asking me how long. Say something, it's taken me so long.
Sara: Tegan just recently discovered that unicorns don’t exist. Tegan: I just thought they were extinct.
Stop crying to the ocean, stop crying over me. Stop worrying over nothing, stop worrying over me. So it's been so long since you said, well I know what I want and what I want's right here with you.
Convinced that we're living the whole time that we're dying.We decide to go out walking the whole time that you're talking.Convinced that you're living whole time that I'm dying.
I hope I never figure out who broke your heart and if I do, if I do. I'd spend all night losing sleep. I'd spend the night and I'd lose my mind. Well I'd spend the night and I'd lose my mind.
Why did you take me down this road if you don't want to walk with me? Why do you exist all alone, when you could just talk to me?
I used to be free spirited, now I'm just free of sleep. I got a burning passion in my throat. I got a burning passion inside me.
Dignified in what she does, when she sings the smile that she brings to all of you unaware of what's to come, I said tell me what's to come.
I wake up exhausted it's not morning. It's back to sleep to re-dream me. We're alone and we're happy. But there you are, angry with me
Where do you go with your broken heart in tow? What do you do with the left over you? And how do you know, when to let go? Where does the good go, where does the good go?
I don't want to know that you don't want me. I don't want to know what you do without me. I don't want to know what I'll be without you. I dont wanna know. I don't wanna know.
I get so sad that sad gets to be.So scared that all my feelings they up and leave me. I got so city girl on you. I go so crazy I don't know what to do.
Blending into the tinctures and textures of the countryside. The tree which falls without any human hearing still falls, as the creatures who die without being found by a human still die.
And I felt like such a failure. I thought: I can't even do mental illness properly.
It was nearly ten years since the peace though her memories of the war still felt fresh.
Didn’t young people care what the generation before them had achieved? And if not, why had everyone gone through those grim difficult wartime years?
Vesta was so good with paperwork – you could hand her a file of drab, seemingly dull information and she’d construct a story from it worthy of a novel.
My mother says: 'People who suffer from anxiety are usually those with the most vivid imaginations.
Jack had been the love of her life and he was gone. It seemed now that there had never been bad times, though she knew that wasn’t true.
I decided that if I didn't allow myself to fall asleep, then I wouldn't have to wake up again and despair.
The best historical stories capture the modern imagination because they are, in many senses, still current - part of a continuum.
I am a storyteller, not a historian, and it's my ambition to create something compelling - something unputdownable and riveting - that chimes with the real history but is, in fact, fiction.
I see foxes often, but always they are crossing fallow fields in the distance. Gold flecks on faraway expanses of green. Magnetic to the meandering eye. Enigmatic, unreachable.
I've always longed to have a patch of personal wilderness. Of waist-high grass entwined with wildflowers through which I can prance
Covert operations relied on the unguarded slip, the unconscious choosing of one word over another.
Now I wonder if each artwork is in fact utterly inaccessible to everybody but the person to whom it is secretly addressed?
I love that an idea can be so powerful it doesn't matter whether I've seen the artwork for real or not.
How easy to be electrocuted. How fine the line between beauty and peril.
There is a curious thing that happens with the passage of time: a calcification of character.
No matter how far I try to travel from people, people always appear. Either they follow me, or they're already there, and I followed them, unwittingly.
After this is over, I want a shower in a really big bathroom.""I'll get us the penthouse.""What makes you think you'll be sharing it with me?""I live in hope.
