I asked for your heart and you gave me a stone.
I searched everywhere for love.
I knocked on every door
and turned over every stone.
But it was only until I returned home
that I found love
waiting for me.
In ocean of tears, the heart of stone sinks. (Dans l’océan de larmes, – Le coeur de pierre donc coule.)
You have been insulted, and you have been beaten…and yet you have refused to let any of it hurt you where it really mattered: on the inside. You are indeed a stone. You withstand the waves and winds of this world, and you remain strong.
The rolling stone rolls echoing from rock to rock; but the rolling stone is dead. The moss is silent because the moss is alive.
The number of your antagonists are far more greater than that of your companions, so you have to keep a stone of awareness to mark the boundary line.
The overcast skies had the colour of deadened stones, and seemed closer than usually, as though they were phlegmatically observing my every movement with their apathetic emptily blue-less eyes; each tiny drop of hazy rain drifting around resembled transparent molten steel, the pavement looked like it was about to burst into disconsolate tears, even the air itself was gray, so ultimate and ubiquitous that colour was everywhere around me.
The carved stone sign in front read Building C.
Imaginative title, Langdon thought
When stumbling blocks can become stepping stones, then these stones that the builders reject can equally become chief corner stones!
The greater the fruit a tree bears, the greater the number of stones thrown at it.