Best 20 quotes of Craig Thompson on MyQuotes

and yet I feel that the most real home I'll ever have is the space where our roads merged and traveled along together... for a time.

At night, lying on your back and staring at the falling snow, it's easy to imagine oneself soaring through the stars.

Edward Said talks about Orientalism in very negative terms because it reflects the prejudices of the west towards the exotic east. But I was also having fun thinking of Orientalism as a genre like Cowboys and Indians is a genre – they’re not an accurate representation of the American west, they’re like a fairy tale genre.

For what matters if I gain the whole world, but lose my soul?

Her lips tarried at mine. Baiting each other with the warmth of our breath, barely grazing, detouring, then connecting.

I wanted a heaven. And I grew up striving for that world-- an eternal world- that would wash away my temporary misery.

I was grateful for cereal --- the only food that my tummy, riddled by pangs of infatuation, could handle.

Maybe I'm sad about wanting you. I'm not too comfortable with wanting someone.

On my first visit to the public library, I was like a kid at a candy store where all the candy was free. I gorged myself until my tummy ached.

Pressed against her I can hear eternity -- hollow, lonely spaces and currents that churn ceaselessly, and the fallen snow welcomes the falling snow with a whispered "Hush".

Right now the day length is exactly the same as in spring when birds key into it and begin singing. The birds are a little confused by it all and the singing isn't very intense. It only lasts a week or so each fall, but it's still cool to hear spring bird songs at this time of the year.

Something about being rejected at Church Camp felt so much more awful than being rejected at school.

Sometimes, upon waking, the residual dream can be more appealing that reality, and one is reluctant to give it up. For a while, you feel like a ghost -- Not fully materialized, and unable to manipulate your surroundings. Or else, it is the dream that haunts you. You wait with the promise of the next dream.

Which is scarier-- lust or temptation?

You have so many layers, that you can peel away a few, and everyone's so shocked or impressed that you're baring your soul, while to you it's nothing, because you know you've twenty more layers to go.

And that's my comfort--that someone else was there and experienced the same thing. How else could I know it was real and not merely a dream?

Except heaven is a hope , and eden is a memory .

Underwater, we're drowning victims, struggling over and under each others' bodies. But above, we bob with the tide,undercurrents pulling us just far enough apart ,so that we're drifting parallel but not together.

We experience a discomfort that may be foreign to others, but that pain opens up a world of beauty. Wouldn't you think?

What does the breathtaking view of the ocean mean without you?