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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| ecb550b | Clare, I want to tell you, again, I love you. Our love has been the thread through the labyrinth, the net under the high-wire walker, the only real thing in this strange life of mine that I could ever trust. | Audrey Niffenegger | ||
| 738c667 | Don't be logical. You know I hate that. | Susan Mallery | ||
| aef0eaf | Twelve years after Robin's death, no one knew any more about how he had ended up hanged from a tree in his own yard than they had on the day it happened. | Donna Tartt | ||
| 4bd833f | All my life, people have taken my shyness for sullenness, snobbery, bad temper of one sort or another. | Donna Tartt | ||
| fba8849 | And though in the clockless, temperature-controlled casino night, words like 'day' and 'Christmas' were fairly meaningless constructs, 'happiness,' amidst the loudly clinked glasses, didn't seem quite such a doomed or fatal idea. | Donna Tartt | ||
| bdb606e | In a world of monotonous horror there could be no salvation in wild dreaming. Horror he had adjusted to. But monotony was the greater obstacle, and he realized it now, understood it at long last. And understanding it seemed to give him a sort of quiet peace, a sense of having spread all the cards on his mental table, examined them, and settled conclusively on the desired hand. | Richard Matheson | ||
| 740da51 | But he wasn't going for the sake of corruption or the kingdom. His tower was broken, he'd drunk Spindle-water, and he'd held my hand. So now he was going to run away as quick as he could, and find himself some new stone walls to hide behind. He'd keep himself locked away for ten years this time, until he withered his own roots, and didn't feel the lack of them anymore. | Naomi Novik | ||
| 55c8ea1 | Guess what? When it comes right down to it, wherever you go, there you are. Whatever you wind up doing, that's what you've wound up doing. Whatever you are thinking right now, that's what's on your mind. Whatever has happened to you, it has already happened. The important question is, how are you going to handle it? In other words, "Now what?" | Jon Kabat-Zinn | ||
| b2fd717 | Drawing teaches habits of close observation that will always be useful. | life useful | Susanna Clarke | |
| 7bb2bce | There are people in this world, whose lives are nothing but a burden to them. A black veil stands between them and the world. They are utterly alone. They are like shadows in the night, shut off from joy and all gentle human emotions, unable to even give comfort to each other. Their days are full of nothing but darkness, misery and solitude. | Susanna Clarke | ||
| c91ccf3 | any cat he spoke to would stay quite still with an expression of faint surprise on its face as if it had never heard such good sense in all its life nor ever expected to again. | Susanna Clarke | ||
| 7b6601f | He pulled out a book here and there, but what kept catching his attention were the diagonal tunnels of sunlight rolling in through the dormer windows. All around him dust motes rose and fell, shimmering, quivering in those shafts of roiling light. He found several shelves full of old editions of classical writers and began vaguely browsing, hoping to find a cheap edition of Virgil's , which he had only ever read in a borrowed copy. It wasn.. | Richard Flanagan | ||
| 68e28d3 | He thought of how the world organises its affairs so that civilisation every day commits crimes for which any individual would be imprisoned for life. And how people accept this either by ignoring it and calling it current affairs or politics or wars, | Richard Flanagan | ||
| c97291f | The God way. Talking about God this and God that. Fuck God, he had actually wanted to say. Fuck God for having made this world, fucked be his name, now and for fucking ever, fuck God for our lives, fuck God for not saving us, fuck God for not being here and for not saving the men burning on the fucking bamboo. | Richard Flanagan | ||
| 70c2801 | I loved the idea that looking at a painting or listening to a concerto could make you somehow "transcend" the day-in, day-out bullshit that grinds you down: how in one instant of pure attention you could draw something inside that made you forever larger" | Mary Karr | ||
| c50249f | Even now I occasionally get a long letter from Kimiko, who's still in and out of mental hospitals. I've never written a reply. The Last Picture Show Iwas eighteen. | Ryū Murakami | ||
| 9417cb5 | His face was smiling, his eyes glittered in the late autumn moonlight, and he emitted a flickering aura that might have triggered seizures in an impartial but sensitive child, and yet he was strangely depressed. | Ryū Murakami | ||
| 814caac | These young men, in other words, represented a variety of types, but one thing they had in common was that they'd all given up on committing positively to anything in life. This was not their fault, however. The blame lay with a certain ubiquitous spirit of the times, transmitted to them by their respective mothers. And perhaps it goes without saying that this "spirit of the times" was in fact an oppressive value system based primarily upon.. | oppressive spirit times | Ryū Murakami | |
| bbe14c6 | Of course, I'm not sure there is such a thing as a real self. You could ransack your innards looking for the real you and never find it - slice yourself open and all you'll find is blood and muscle and bone... | Ryū Murakami | ||
| 3514734 | having nothing better to do, meandered off to a coffee shop and sat facing each other for a couple of hours, neither of them talking much but each coming to the general conclusion that the other was a person rather like himself... | silence | Ryū Murakami | |
| e2ed552 | I remembered reading in a hard-boiled detective novel that if you drink in the same place two nights in a row, the bartender and waiters will remember your face. | Ryū Murakami | ||
| 0852a64 | That's what violence was: emotion leaking out from consciousness into the physical world, linking up with the muscles of the arms and shoulders and diaphragm and, inevitably, the face. Stifle emotion during an act of violence and the face becomes a blank, unreadable mask. | bad-ass inspirational violence | Ryū Murakami | |
| 6fd3eab | Memories are't like words; they're soft and gooey. Covered with a sticky slime, like a penis after sex, or your vagina when you menstruate, and shaped like tadpoles or tiny watersnakes | Ryū Murakami | ||
| 5ac964b | that you don't suffer because of someone else. There's never anyone but | Ryū Murakami | ||
| 1708a31 | Only time can heal wounds as deep as that--a lot of time--and all you can really do is place yourself in its hands and try to consider the passing of each day a victory. | Ryū Murakami | ||
| 6503aed | He was a father. That's what a father does. Eases the burdens of those he loves. Saves the ones he loves from painful last images that might endure for a lifetime. | love | George Saunders | |
| 4eafa4d | Be a good and proactive and even somewhat desperate patient on your own behalf--seek out the most efficacious anti-selfishness medicines, energetically, for the rest of your life. Find out what makes you kinder, what opens you up and brings out the most loving, generous, and unafraid version of you--and go after those things as if nothing else matters. Because, actually, nothing else does. | George Saunders | ||
| cbf0a10 | I'm not a bad guy. If only I could stop hoping. If only I could say to my heart: Give up. Be alone forever. There's always opera. There's angel-food cake and neighborhood children caroling, and the look of autumn leaves on a wet roof. But no. My heart's some kind of idiotic fishing bobber. | George Saunders | ||
| a16e68e | What America is, to me, is a guy doesn't want to buy, you let him not buy, you respect his not buying. A guy has a crazy notion different from your crazy notion, you pat him on the back and say, Hey pal, nice crazy notion, let's go have a beer. America, to me, should be shouting all the time, a bunch of shouting voices, most of them wrong, some of them nuts, but please, not just one droning glamorous reasonable voice. | america americans buying craziness difference disagreement purchasing | George Saunders | |
| 9fd6386 | I can look back and see that I've spent much of my life in a cloud of things that have tended to push "being kind" to the periphery. Things like: Anxiety. Fear. Insecurity. Ambition. The mistaken belief that enough accomplishment will rid me of all that anxiety, fear, insecurity, and ambition. The belief that if I can only accrue enough--enough accomplishment, money, fame--my neuroses will disappear. I've been in this fog certainly since, a.. | George Saunders | ||
| 076eccd | Vonnegut's war was necessary. And yet it was massacre and screaming and confusion and blood and death. It was the mammoth projection outward of the confused inner life of men. In war, the sad tidy constructs we make to help us believe life is orderly and controllable are roughly thrown aside like the delusions they are. In war, love is outed as an insane, insupportable emotion, a kind of luxury emotion, because everywhere you look, someone .. | George Saunders | ||
| e8ead7c | but there's no nation uncorrupted. there's no system that's immune to the misuse of money. | Gregory David Roberts | ||
| 41f138f | What is it?" she asked. "I'm looking for your wings. You are my guardian angel, aren't you?" "I'm afraid not," she replied, her cheeks dimplingwith a wry smile. "There's too much of the devil in me for that." "Just how much devil," I grinned, "are we talking about here?" | devils india love | Gregory David Roberts | |
| 8ef7429 | It's such a huge arrogance to love someone, and there's too much of it around. There's too much love in this world. Sometimes I think that's what heavens is-- a place where everybody's happy because nobody loves anybody else, ever. | love-hurts true-story | Gregory David Roberts | |
| fb74275 | I know now that when the loving, honest moment comes it should be seized, and spoken, because it may never come again. And unvoiced, unmoving, unlived in the things we declare form heart to heart, those true and real feelings wither and crumble in the remembering hand that tries too late to reach for them. | Gregory David Roberts | ||
| b1f424d | Not to marry, know love, or bind, their fate; Your line to die for never seed shall take. Death and torment to those caught in their wake, | Kresley Cole | ||
| c4fa2dd | a woman's voice said, "if you've reached this message and you weren't trying to contact Regin the Radient" - Regin? -"then I know three things about you. One of my half sisters just tooled your ass and never wants to see you again. B. You're pop-culturally illiterate enough not to know this number is a song. And three, you'll never tell another male about this humiliating prank, so the number trick can be continued indefinitely. If however,.. | humor prank | Kresley Cole | |
| e1c8087 | Just lie back, wench." She snickered. "Did you call me ? Well, you certainly dated yourself there, didn't you? Sometimes I forget how old you are. What's your age, anyway? Thirty-seven? Thirty-eight?" "I'm thirty- ." | Kresley Cole | ||
| b9cb2c4 | Kaderin didn't believe, as a whole, the nymphs were more beautiful than the Valkyrie, but everything about them screamed, "Easy lay! When you don't want to work for it!" And curiously, many males found that more appealing than the Valkyrie's "Do it and die, simian"." | tough-love | Kresley Cole | |
| 94b64b6 | Hey! When he dug into it, rifling through her things, she snapped, "Go Yoda someone else's supplies, asshole." | Kresley Cole | ||
| 71eb9ce | We're married now. I'm not going anywhere." And she meant it. He was her husband, her lover, her prince. Thronos was her best friend. Though she worried what tomorrow would bring, she believed in . As he was drifting off, he said, "With all my dreams having come true, what will I dream of now?" . Lanthe gazed at his face in sleep. ." | Kresley Cole | ||
| 9cb37f0 | And all he wants is to throw a rager in your sugar mill?" Then she frowned. "Wow. That sounded raunchy." | evie innuendoes kresley-cole mel melissa poison-princess | Kresley Cole | |
| 8e696a1 | I finally understand what a dickie-do is. Your gut does stick out more than your dickie do.--Regin | Kresley Cole | ||
| 4351b84 | Cade hiked his shoulders, pretending nonchalance. "Tell me about the vampire, or not, dove. But none of us really wants to be here." "I'll tell you," Nix said, her gaze rapt on his horns. "But only if you let me lick your rock-hard horns--" "Nix!" Regin's attention snapped back to this conversation. Eyes wide, Nix cried, "Who said that?? I didn't say that! Oh, very well--the vampire's named Conrad Wroth. Best be careful with that one. He si.. | Kresley Cole |