All of it—for this. Leading us to a door we can't open, a password we don't have.

The wastes of snow on the hill were ghostly in the moonlight. The stars were piercingly bright.

Shake those stars from your hair, pretty Moonchild. It's time to dance with the noonday sun!

The cosmos is within us. We are made of star-stuff. We are a way for the universe to know itself.

He could pour himself into my little paper cup heart and my emptiness would finally have a meaning.

Life is so complete that even when we are knocked on our backs, we have the best view of the stars.

for the first time in an age, he saw the beauty of the stars, rather than the darkness between them.

I always knew, on some level, that I wouldn't live long. It's simply not written in my stars.

Her hand rose to her lips and she stared up at the stars, feeling her heart grow, and grow, and grow.

Stars grounded her. Their distance offered perspective when she couldn't see beyond her own pain

Rather nice night, after all. Stars are out and everything. Exceptionally tasty assortment of them.

...you ask me why I compare you to stars - it's simple - that's where your goddess has fled...

ut you do not think much about the stars. They are always there. Look at them when you have a moment.

Of course I want the moon. And, were you to offer it, I'd propose as a trade the stars in my eyes.

I love the stars.Because they can't say anything.I love the stars.Because they do not judge anyone.