And it can take a lifetime, a ...

And it can take a lifetime, a life of many years, to accept the incongruity of things: that a small moment can sit side by side with a big one, and become part of the same.
And it can take a lifetime, a life of many years, to accept the incongruity of things: that a small moment can sit side by side with a big one, and become part of the same.
 Rachel Joyce

More phrases

There is an ocean of endless opportunities, and there are so many things that one can do. I'm so fortunate that I've grown up with this sort of a philosophy and mentality.
 Hafez Nazeri
The two worst strategic mistakes to make are acting prematurely and letting an opportunity slip.
A warrior knows that he is only a man. His only regret is that his life is so short that he can't grab onto all the things he would like to. But for him, this is not an issue; it's only a pity.
The Warrior lives a life full of adventure, living on the edge of opportunity. Life on the edge keeps him in a space of heightened awareness and totally in the moment; therefore no matter what comes his way he is always prepared.
 James Arthur Ray
It was a good opportunity for me to wear a NBA jersey. The Golden State Warriors gave me an opportunity to come in and play for them. I was very appreciative of that.
 John Starks

Quotes from the same author

you could be ordinary and attempt something extraordinary, without being able to explain it in a logical way.
 Rachel Joyce
He understood that in walking to atone for the mistakes he had made, it was also his journey to accept the strangeness of others.
 Rachel Joyce
He understood that in walking to atone for the mistakes he had made, it was his journey to accept the strangeness of others. As a passerby, he was in a place where everything, not only the land, was open. People would feel free to talk, and he was free to listen. To carry a little of them as he went.
 Rachel Joyce
If we can't accept what we don't know, there really is no hope.
 Rachel Joyce
... He went under the stars, and the tender light of the moon, when it hung like an eyelash and the tree trunks shone like bones. He walked through wind and weather, and beneath sun-bleached skies. It seemed to Harold that he had been waiting all his life to walk. He no longer knew how far he had come, but only that he was going forward. The pale Cotswold stone became the red brick of Warwickshire, and the land flattened into middle England. Harold reached his hand to his mouth to brush away a fly, and felt a beard growing in thick tufts. Queenie would live. He knew it.
 Rachel Joyce