+ We all have our fictions, little lies we tell ourselves to keep going from one day to the next. Feraz Zeid, December 23, 2023January 10, 2024, Ilsa J. Bick, Lying, One Day, 0 - Ilsa J. Bick Author
+ The familiar was usually invisible; how many people really noticed everything they saw? Feraz Zeid, December 23, 2023January 10, 2024, Ilsa J. Bick, Invisible, Saws, 0 - Ilsa J. Bick Author
+ My English teacher said that a writer is the worst judge of his own work. Explain Feraz Zeid, December 23, 2023January 10, 2024, Ilsa J. Bick, Judging, Teacher, 0 - Ilsa J. Bick Author
+ What’s the point of not taking chances? I don’t know if I could stand living my whole life afraid. Feraz Zeid, December 23, 2023January 10, 2024, Ilsa J. Bick, Chance, 0 - Ilsa J. Bick Author
+ Sometimes you don’t know what you need until it’s gone Feraz Zeid, October 12, 2023December 26, 2023, Ilsa J. Bick, 0 - Ilsa J. Bick Author
+ The things you think about when you’re a hair’s breath away from getting yourself killed. Feraz Zeid, December 23, 2023January 10, 2024, Ilsa J. Bick, Breathe, Hair, 0 - Ilsa J. Bick Author
+ They call it the drowning instinct. It’s when drowning doesn’t look like drowning. (pg. 241) Feraz Zeid, December 23, 2023January 10, 2024, Ilsa J. Bick, Drowning, Instinct, 0 - Ilsa J. Bick Author
What uniform can I wear to hide my heavy heart? It is too heavy. It will always show. - Jean Cocteau Artist · France
We are more sociable, and get on better with people by the heart than the intellect. Explain - Jean de la Bruyere Writer · France
We never love with all our heart and all our soul but once, and that is the first time. Explain - Jean de la Bruyere Writer · France
There are no elements so diverse that they cannot be joined in the heart of a man. - Jean Giraudoux Playwright · France
Memory, wit, fancy, acuteness, cannot grow young again in old age, but the heart can. - Jean Paul Writer · Germany
Gardening is an art form, but it has lost its sense of history. - William Howard Adams Historian · USA
A noble heart cannot suspect in others the pettiness and malice that it has never felt. - Jean Racine Playwright · France
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