The Indians did not like to see anything odd -- a white squirrel, for instance. . . . They thought such oddities were messages, were omens of evil. . . . And the Indians put a great deal of faith in dreams.

Sacred signs always come when your soul calls out in pain or joy.

Omens don't influence the eradication of a evil from a society. it's all upto you when YOU want.

Survivors look back and see omens, messages they missed.They remember the tree that died, the gull that splattered onto the hood of the car.They live by symbols. They read meaning into the barrage of spam on the unused computer, the delete key that stops working, the imagined abandonment in the decision to replace it.

Then, sometime during the fourth year, the omens will abandon you, because you've stopped listening to them.

... it's a bad sign when someone drinks a lot and doesn't laugh.

Life knows what you want, and gives you exactly the same thing, at the moment. You attract exactly what you want in the moment. You have to remain present in the moment. If you are already lost in yourself, you can never understand the ways of life.

It is possibly worth mentioning at this point that Mr. Young thought that paparazzi was a kind of Italian linoleum.

The evening pulsed with omens gentle to the eyes, and Valentina had a romantic crush on it all, like every good witch should.

When you are open to living and trust the process of life and ready to face all your fears, and not afraid to go astray with life, life definitely comes and talk to you, in its own language.

He said that people who loved [animals] to excess were capable of the worst cruelties toward human beings. He said that dogs were not loyal but servile, that cats were opportunists and traitors, that peacocks were heralds of death, that macaws were simply decorative annoyances, that rabbits fomented greed, that monkeys carried the fever of lust, and that roosters were damned because they had been complicit in the three denials of Christ.

She dabbed at the surface of the water with one paw, and the moon fluttered like silver wings before settling again as the water stilled. Letting out a faint mrrow of wonder, Half Moon dabbed again and again. However often she disturbed the surface, the moon was still there.“It doesn’t give up, does it?” Half Moon blinked at Jayfeather. “It’s always there, constant like the stones in this cave. Maybe we should be like the moon’s reflection, holding fast whatever happens?