darkangel_0410: (my fave d)
“The trick, kiddo,” his mom replies slowly, “is finding someone who complements you instead of completes you. You need to be complete on your own.”
— The Fight and Fate
darkangel_0410: (my fave d)
Every day is a great day for hockey. -Mario Lemieux


FIRST DAY OF HOCKEY SEASON, BABY.
darkangel_0410: (the blues)
"You amaze me." "Eat me, Sebastian! It's okay for guys like you and Court to fuck everyone. But when I do it, I get dumped for innocent little twits like Cecile. God forbid, I exude confidence and enjoy sex. Do you think I relish the fact that I have to act like Mary Sunshine 24/7 so I can be considered a lady? I'm the Marcia fucking Brady of the Upper East Side, and sometimes I want to kill myself. So there's your psychoanalysis, Dr. Freud. Now tell me, are you in... or are you out?" -Sebastian & Kathryn, Cruel Intentions
darkangel_0410: (Default)

Never get caught telling a hockey player it's just a game. Never get caught trying to explain to him all the things in the world that matter so much more. His mind might well acknowledge the truth to your point, but his soul will be powerless to accept it. Considering the immensity of what he gives to the sport, and the immeasurably of all it offers in return.

Nothing ever feels as perfect as a moment of flawlessness on the ice. No bond as strong as one that compels brothers to bleed for one another. Not many leaders are this versed in the craft of motivation. Not many pursuits evoke such visions of brilliance.

This is why it hurts so much when skill falls short of what the will desires. This is why it's so unforgettable when absolute passion yields ultimate reward. And that's all still just the start of what the game can do to you.

The stakes rise as their seasons continue from here. While you watch from a distance, remember what was validated up close. Hockey may in fact be just a game, but it's also who they are." Flyers vs Rangers, episode 4 -HBO 24/7

darkangel_0410: (Default)

“One of his predecessors, Patrick Roy, liked to make the impossible look impossible. Price likes to make the impossible look easy. For Roy, it was as if he was saying to opponents, I can do the spectacular, and you can’t. He challenged them. Price’s message is different. You think that was spectacular — look at my face. That was nothing. I have so much more in me. Price doesn’t challenge his opponents, pushing them to be better. He defeats them.”

— Ken Dryden on Carey Price

darkangel_0410: (my fave d)

"Why didn't they bury him?" "It would take a thousand men a thousand years to gather all the bones that lie here and commit them earth. Whole generations of Arendia rest here -Mimbrate, Wacite, Asturian. All lie where they fell, and the moss blankets their endless slumber." "How long until we reach the plain?" "Two days, probably." "Two days? And it's all like this? Why?" "At first for pride -and honor. Later for grief and revenge. Finally it was simply because we didn't know how to stop. As you said before, sometimes we Arends aren't very bright." "But always brave." "Oh, yes. Always brave. It's our national curse." -Garion & Lelldorin, Queen of Sorcery by David Eddings

darkangel_0410: (pretty subby boys)
“Write because you want to communicate with yourself. Write because you want to communicate with someone else. Write because life is weird and tragic and amazing. Write because talking is difficult. Write because it polishes the heart. Write because you can. Write because you can’t. Write because there is a blackbird outside of my window right now and oh my god isn’t that the best start to the day? Write because you’re trying to figure yourself out. Write because you might not ever figure yourself out. Write because there still aren’t enough love poems in the world.” — Dalton Day
darkangel_0410: (dangers untold)
Three rings for the elven kings under the sky, seven for the dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, nine for mortal men doomed to die, and one for the dark lord on his dark throne. -Tolkien
darkangel_0410: (patrick is jesus)

Here it is, the last part of the NHL Meme:

 

One Quote:

 

 

People follow a sport like hockey and they look for symbolism. They want the game to mean something. They want the game to matter. So to them, a fresh sheet of ice just after the zamboni’s laid its final spray of water presents the purest vision of possibility they could imagine. Skates being sharpened over and over and over again are meditation on perfection. And the routines and rituals that surround the rink are a language of dedication in need of no translation.  To them games aren’t meant to be seen they’re meant to be felt. Blood points a path directly to the heart. Sweat, a trail to the soul and tears, a connection to a conviction that people search for their entire lives. The ones that look for something more, believe in something more, are the ones that turn close games into unforgettable nights, who transform great players into heroes for all time. And who no matter what maintain unwavering faith in the incredible. They’re people out there who look at something like hockey and they want the game to matter. So it does. 

darkangel_0410: (slytherin)
"All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that’s the tragedy of living.” — Iain Thomas, I Wrote This For You
darkangel_0410: (tazer)
“Hell, as soon as Toews exited the womb April 29, 1988, he was probably lying in the hospital’s new arrivals ward, staring down other newborns and mapping out his plan to be the first baby to go home with his parents” — http://blackhawks.nhl.com/club/blogpost.htm?id=6599

I'd say this is 100% accurate.
darkangel_0410: (slytherin)
“Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab. Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end. Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smokestacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot. Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest Airlines. Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true?
We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La.

They can keep their heaven. When I die, I’d sooner go to Middle-Earth.” - George R.R. Martin
darkangel_0410: (dangers untold)


 “Perhaps we all give the best of our hearts uncritically—to those who hardly think about us in return.” – T. H. White, The Once and Future King

darkangel_0410: (pills & chances)

Be clearly aware of the stars and infinity on high. Then life seems almost enchanted after all. -Vincent van Gogh

darkangel_0410: (merry christmas)

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.” -- C.S. Lewis

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