Her spirits wanted the solitude and silence which only numbers could give.
A broken heart can be as painful as a broken limb.
Anybody's true nature is bullshit. There is no human soul. Emotion is bullshit. Love is bullshit. And I'm dragging Paige down the hallway.
We live and we die and anything else is just delusion. It's just passive chick bullshit about feelings and sensitivity. Just made-up subjective emotional crap. There is no soul. There is no God. There's just decisions and disease and death.
What were you trying to prove? That deep down, everyone's as ugly as you? You're alone.
Soul and body, body and soul—how mysterious they were! There was animalism in the soul, and the body had its moments of spirituality. The senses could refine, and the intellect could degrade. Who could say where the fleshly impulse ceased, or the physical impulse began? How shallow were the arbitrary definitions of ordinary psychologists! And yet how difficult to decide between the claims of the various schools! Was the soul a shadow seated in the house of sin? Or was the body really in the soul, as Giordano Bruno thought? The separation of spirit from matter was a mystery, and the union of spirit with matter was a mystery also.
Men of different races and colors, and having different gifts and traditions, but, in the main, with the same nature.
Both have souls.
What is a friend?
A single soul dwelling in two bodies.
Dream are rightly the mirrors of our soul. I call them "The Theatre of seven Hells". They are very important for our spiritual development.