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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 501bfdd | What is it about ye, Sassenach, I wonder?" he said conversationally, eyes still fixed on Myers. "What is about me?" He turned then, and gave me a narrow eye. "What it is that makes every man ye meet want to take off his breeks within five minutes of meetin' ye." "Well, if you don't know, my dear," I said, "no one does." | married-couples | Diana Gabaldon | |
| 07fd794 | He wanted to ask whether she were insane, but he had been married long enough to know the price of injudicious rhetorical questions. | roger | Diana Gabaldon | |
| 14144dc | Tell him I hate him to his guts and the marrow of his bones! | Diana Gabaldon | ||
| 0b373bd | We thought you were dead, you bloody arsehole!" he said, furious. "Both of us! Dead! And we--we--took too much to drink one night--very much too much ... We spoke of you ... and ... Damn you, neither one of us was making love to the other--we were both fucking you!" | Diana Gabaldon | ||
| ab0214b | His Grace woke up in the morning red-eyed as a ferret and in roughly the same temper as a rabid badger. Had I a tranquilizing dart, I would have shot him with it without an instant's hesitation. | claire-fraser duke-of-pardloe humor | Diana Gabaldon | |
| 96d66a2 | The overseer wouldna speak to me of Ian, but he told me other things that would curl your hair, if it wasna already curled up like sheep's wool." He glanced at me, and a half-smile lit his face, inspite of his obvious perturbation. "Judging by the state of your hair, Sassenach, I should say that it's going to rain verra soon now." | Diana Gabaldon | ||
| f543d65 | But I talk to you as I talk to my own soul," he said, turning me to face him. He reached up and cupped my cheek, fingers light on my temple. "And, Sassenach," he whispered, "your face is my heart." | jammf | Diana Gabaldon | |
| edeebd1 | You aren't doing it for the sake of ideals, are you? Not for the sake of...liberty. Freedom, self determination, all that.' He shook his head. 'No,' he said softly. 'Why, then? I asked, more gently. 'For you,' he said without hesitation. '...For my family. For the future. And if that is not an ideal, I've never heard of one. | Diana Gabaldon | ||
| 9902997 | And once I got old enough for such a thing to be a possibility, he told me that a man must be responsible for any seed he sows, for it's his duty to take care of a woman and protect her. And if I wasna prepared to do that, then I'd no right to burden a woman with the consequences of my own actions. | Diana Gabaldon | ||
| 1d4b973 | The whiskey died away in time and was renewed and died again, but the street ran on. From that night the thousand streets ran as one street, with imperceptible corners and changes of scene ... | William Faulkner | ||
| 2036342 | Here I am I am tired I am tired of running of having to carry my life like it was a basket of eggs | tired | William Faulkner | |
| 9c2fdc8 | I can remember how when I was young I believed death to be a phenomenon of the body; now I know it to be merely a function of the mind - and that of the minds of the ones who suffer the bereavement. The nihilists say it is the end; the fundamentalists, the beginning; when in reality it is no more than a single tenant or family moving out of a tenement or a town. | William Faulkner | ||
| 9c9850d | It always takes a man that never made much at any thing to tell you how to run your business, though. Like these college professors without a whole pair of socks to his name, telling you how to make a million in ten years, and a woman that couldn't even get a husband can always tell you how to raise a family. | William Faulkner | ||
| d2e7a34 | Truth is one. It doesn't change. It covers all things which touch the heart - honor and pride and pity and justice and courage and love. | William Faulkner | ||
| fc6bf0d | And I reckon them that are good must suffer for it the same as them that are bad. | William Faulkner | ||
| 61b57fb | At first it had been a torrent; now it was a tide, with a flow and ebb. During its flood she could almost fool them both. It was as if out of her knowledge that it was just a flow that must presently react was born a wilder fury, a fierce denial that could flag itself and him into physical experimentation that transcended imagining, carried them as though by momentum alone, bearing them without volition or plan. It was as if she knew someho.. | William Faulkner | ||
| 3ff6337 | Maybe times are never strange to women: it is just one continuous monotonous thing full of the repeated follies of their menfolks. | men women | William Faulkner | |
| 2095f8c | Becoming a book collector is like joining a religion: it's for life. | passion | Arturo Pérez-Reverte | |
| 3680642 | Of all the universal lies she accepted unquestioningly, the happy ending was the most absurd. The hero and heroine lived happily ever after, and the ending seemed indisputable, definitive. No questions asked about how long love or happiness lasts in that 'forever' that can be divided into lifetimes, years, months. Even days | Arturo Pérez-Reverte | ||
| 915c058 | You've just mentioned the price that has to be paid...Pride, freedom...Knowledge. Whether at the beginning or at the end, you have to pay for everything. Even courage, don't you think? And don't you think a lot of courage is needed to fight God? | Arturo Pérez-Reverte | ||
| 65adad0 | Films are for everyone, collective, generous, with children cheering when the cavalry arrives. And they're even better on TV: two can watch and comment. But your books are selfish. Solitary. Some of them can't even be read, they fall to bits if you open them. A person who's interested only in books doesn't need other people, and that frightens me | Arturo Pérez-Reverte | ||
| cf942b4 | For love it is never the same. What goes on inside is never the same just like this music which changes every instant. For love there are a million variations, a million nights, a million days, contrasts in moods, in textures, whims, a million gestures colored by emotion, by sorrow, joy, fear, courage, triumph, by revelations which deepen the groove, creations which expand its dimensions, sharpen its penetrations. Love is vast enough to inc.. | Anaïs Nin | ||
| 7ab2d4e | I know no way of discounting the doctrine that when you take something you want, and damn the consequences, then you had better be ready to accept whatever consequences ensue. | Wallace Stegner | ||
| f70c389 | This early piece of the morning is mine. | Wallace Stegner | ||
| f7aca10 | One thing I have learned hard, if indeed I have learned it now: it is a reduction of our humanity to hide from pain, our own or others'. To hide from anything. That was Marian's text. Be open, be available, be exposed, be skinless. Skinless? Dance around in your bones. | Wallace Stegner | ||
| 2007420 | Well, there's so much to read, and I'm so far behind. | Wallace Stegner | ||
| 6541c64 | It was the beginning of the war. I was twelve years old, my parents were alive, and God still dwelt in our town. | Elie Wiesel | ||
| 147dbe3 | For me, the pleasure of writing comes with inventing stories. | Roald Dahl | ||
| bb783a9 | Well not exactly," the father said."Nobody could do that. but it didn't take me long..." | roald-dahl | Roald Dahl | |
| c194b46 | I like enthusiasts of any kind. | Roald Dahl | ||
| 156a698 | We may see a Creature with forty-nine heads Who lives in the desolate snow, And whenever he catches a cold (which he dreads) He has forty-nine noses to blow. 'We may see the venomous Pink-Spotted Scrunch Who can chew up a man with one bite. It likes to eat five of them roasted for lunch And eighteen for its supper at night. 'We may see a Dragon, and nobody knows That we won't see a Unicorn there. We may see a terrible Monster with toes Grow.. | imagination james-and-the-giant-peach monsters roald-dahl | Roald dahl | |
| cfaaf2c | You can write about anything for children as long as you've got humour. | roald-dahl writing | Roald Dahl | |
| 5faafc7 | Perhaps his anger was intensified because he saw her getting pleasure from something that was beyond his reach. | Roald Dahl | ||
| 9e3f44c | You are still yourself in everything except your appearance. You've still got your own mind and your own brain and your own voice, and thank goodness for that. | Roald Dahl | ||
| 265dd65 | you have to laugh at the things that hurt you just to keep in balance." [Chief Bromden]" | Ken Kesey | ||
| 4c48c74 | You're making sense, old man, a sense of your own. You're not crazy the way they think. Yes...I see... | ken-kesey one-flew-over-the-cuckoo-s-nest | Ken Kesey | |
| 3a6d116 | You seem to forget, Miss Flinn, that this is an institution for the insane. | Ken Kesey | ||
| b51a7dd | While McMurphy laughs. Rocking farther and farther backward against the cabin top,spreading his laugh across the water. Laughing at the girl,at the guys, at George,at me sucking my bleeding thumb, at the captain back at the pier and the bicycle rider and the service station guys and the five thousand houses and the Big Nurse and all of it. Because he knows you have to laugh at the things that hurt you just to keep yourself in balance, just .. | hurt laughing laughter pain | Ken Kesey | |
| 46d8e7d | The sun was prying up the clouds and lighting the brick front of the hospital rose red. A thin breeze worked at sawing what leaves were left from the oak trees, stacking them neatly agains the wire cyclone fence. There were little brown birds occasionally on the fence: when a puff of leaves would hit the fence the birds would fly off with the wind. It looked at first like the leaves were hitting the fence and turning into birds and flying a.. | Ken Kesey | ||
| bb817b9 | But the new guy is different, and the Acutes can see it, different from anybody been coming on this ward for the past ten years, different from anybody they ever met outside. He's just as vulnerable, maybe, but the Combine didn't get him. | Ken Kesey | ||
| a3d620d | But I remember one thing: it wasn't me that started acting deaf, it was people that first started acting like I was too dumb to hear or see or say anything at all. | psychology reality-of-life | Ken Kesey | |
| 1a99c70 | The river split for the jump of a red-gilled silver salmon, then circled to mark the spot where it fell. Spoonbills shoveled at the crimson mud in the shallows, and dowitchers jumped from cattail to cattail, frantically crying "Kleek! Kleek!" as though the thin reeds were as hot as the pokers they resembled." | Ken Kesey | ||
| 020e72c | They're out there. Black boys in white suits up before me to commit sex acts in the hall and get it mopped up before I can catch them. | Ken Kesey | ||
| f1ced93 | He's safe as long as he can laugh, he thinks, and it works pretty fair. | Ken Kesey |