"La vida está hecha de tiempo. Los días se miden en horas, los salarios se miden en función de esas horas, nuestros conocimientos se miden en años. Robamos unos minutos a nuestras jornadas para tomar un café. Volvemos corriendo a nuestros puestos, miramos el reloj, vivimos de cita en cita. Y, sin embargo, el tiempo termina agotándose y en el fondo de tu alma te preguntas si esos segundos, minutos, horas, días, semanas, meses, años y décadas se están empleando de la mejor manera posible." Donde termina el arcoíris.
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta libros. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta libros. Mostrar todas las entradas
lunes, 19 de enero de 2015
Love, Rosie.
"La vida está hecha de tiempo. Los días se miden en horas, los salarios se miden en función de esas horas, nuestros conocimientos se miden en años. Robamos unos minutos a nuestras jornadas para tomar un café. Volvemos corriendo a nuestros puestos, miramos el reloj, vivimos de cita en cita. Y, sin embargo, el tiempo termina agotándose y en el fondo de tu alma te preguntas si esos segundos, minutos, horas, días, semanas, meses, años y décadas se están empleando de la mejor manera posible." Donde termina el arcoíris.
jueves, 24 de octubre de 2013
Bajo la misma estrella
The Fault in Our Stars (Bajo la misma estrella) es la cuarta novela del autor John Green, publicada en enero del 2011. La historia es narrada por una paciente de cáncer de 16 años, llamada Hazel, quien es forzada por sus padres a asistir a un grupo de apoyo, donde eventualmente conoce y se enamora de Augustus Waters, un ex jugador de basketball amputado de 17 años y su vida cambia por completo.
Mi opinión:
De verdad espero que lo lean, ya que es uno de esos libros eternos, como "El Principito".
Mi calificación: Cinco monedas doradas. (Excelente e INOLVIDABLE)
lunes, 24 de junio de 2013
:)
“That’s the only thing you can do. The other part is not in your control.”
“Okay, okay, I know that.”
“You get older and you learn there is one sentence, just four words long, and if you can say it to yourself it offers more comfort than almost any other. I goes like this…. Ready?”
“Ready.”
” ‘At least I tried.’ ”
“Okay, okay, I know that.”
“You get older and you learn there is one sentence, just four words long, and if you can say it to yourself it offers more comfort than almost any other. I goes like this…. Ready?”
“Ready.”
” ‘At least I tried.’ ”
“If you are Greek, you know that it is traditionally considered to be an insult to the ancient gods to think you know when things can’t get any worse. If you make this mistake, then the gods will prove you wrong.”
| — | Ann Brashares, The Second Summer of the Sisterhood |
| — | Ann Brashares, Sisterhood Everlasting |
miércoles, 5 de septiembre de 2012
Annabel Lee
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my Annabel Lee—
With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
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