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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 8d3b9e0 | I wanted the heat and the sweat and the passion of a man that I could love and trust. And I wanted to give myself to him: not for advantage, but for desire. | Philippa Gregory | ||
| 26f5ec1 | But Anne, do you love him?" I asked curiously. The curve of her hood hid all but the corner of her smile. "I am a fool to own it, but I am in a fever for his touch." -- | life love | Philippa Gregory | |
| 9cfce7d | I turn around from the window and for the first time I see him... It is Richard, smiling at my surprise. I run to him, without thinking what I am doing. I run to the first friendly face that I have seen since Christmas, and in a moment I am in his arms and he is holding me tightly and kissing my face, my closed eyes, my smiling mouth, kissing me till I am breathless and have to pull away from him. | edward-iii love reunion | Philippa Gregory | |
| b03b3fa | Perhaps in time, Ella, the words we have lost will fade, and we will all stop summoning them by habit, only to stamp them out like unwanted toadstools when they appear. Perhaps they will eventually disappear altogether, and the accompanying halts and stammers as well: those troublesome, maddening pauses that at present invade and punctuate through caesura all manner of discourse. Trying so desperately we all are, to be ever so careful. | Mark Dunn | ||
| 6612f94 | Nine out of ten humans killed? And you're not bothered." A look of mysterious thoughtfulness crossed his face. "A virus can be useful to a species by thinning it out," he said. A scream cut the air. It sounded nonhuman. He took his eyes off the water and looked around. "Hear that pheasant? That's what I like about the Bighorn River," he said. "Do you find viruses beautiful?" "Oh, yeah," he said softly. "Isn't it true that if you stare .. | Richard Preston | ||
| b09b2d0 | I closed my eyes and let my enemy win. | Laurie Halse Anderson | ||
| eb63d69 | Which was better: being alive (if that was the right word) but not remembering anything, or being dead? | Laurie Halse Anderson | ||
| 29929c2 | This camp is a forge for the army; it's testing our mettle. Instead of heat and hammer, our trials are cold and hunger. Question is, what are we made of? | Laurie Halse Anderson | ||
| 0a9663e | I nod like I'm listening,like we're communicating, and she never knows the difference. | Laurie Halse Anderson | ||
| 92bcbd5 | All of my answers were drawings of armored unicorns. | Laurie Halse Anderson | ||
| 21c8453 | I smile and play pretend through the Morning Show in the kitchen. | Laurie Halse Anderson | ||
| 15812aa | I am an iceberg drifting toward the edge of the map. | Laurie Halse Anderson | ||
| ea4535d | The merry-go-round is spinning too fast. I want to get off. I want to close my eyes, or just blink. | Laurie Halse Anderson | ||
| 4b105bc | We should teach our girls that snapping is ok, instead of waiting for someone else to break them. | Laurie Halse Anderson | ||
| 9cf2a16 | May your heart be mine, may my heart be yours. May your sorrows be mine, may my joys be yours. | marriage | Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni | |
| fb35b61 | A dream is a telegram from the hidden world...Only a fool or an illiterate person ignores it. | Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni | ||
| 469d6f9 | Or is this how humans survive, shrugging off history, immersing themselves in the moment? | Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni | ||
| 00486bd | the darkness is a cresting wave. It sweeps me up out of my body until I float among the stars, those tine bright pores on the sky's skin. If only I could pass through them, I would end up on the other side, the right side, shadowless, perfectly illuminated, beyond the worries of this mundane world | Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni | ||
| ca151a8 | time is the great eraser, both of sorrow and of joy. | Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni | ||
| 775f92e | Sometimes -- she knows this from her own life -- to get to the other side, you must travel through grief. No detours are possible. | Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni | ||
| e2dba28 | She felt as if she had been on the outside of happiness her whole life. | Kate Atkinson | ||
| 1596fd4 | When you chopped logs with the ax and they split open they smelled beautiful, like Christmas. But when you split someone's head open it smelled like abattoir and quite overpowered the scent of the wild lilacs you'd cut and brought into the house only this morning, which was already another life. | Kate Atkinson | ||
| 8c5cfa2 | The future was coming nearer, one relentless goose step after the next. Juliet could still remember when Hitler had seemed like a harmless clown. No one was amused now. ("The clowns are the dangerous ones," Perry said.)" -- | Kate Atkinson | ||
| 7715fa5 | A 'career woman,'" Sylvie said, as if the two words had no place in the same sentence. "A spinster," she added, contemplating the word. Ursula wondered why her mother was working so hard to rile her. "Perhaps you will never marry," Sylvie said, as if in conclusion, as if Ursula's life was as good as over. "Would that be such a bad thing? 'The unmarried daughter,'" Ursula said, tucking into an iced fancy. "It was good enough for Jane Austen... | Kate Atkinson | ||
| b1e4497 | She had had affairs over the years ... but she had never been pregnant, never been a mother or a wife and it was only when she realized that it was too late, that it could never be, that she understood what it was that she had lost. Pamela's life would go on after she was dead, her descendants spreading through the world like the waters of a delta, but when Ursula died she would simply end. A stream that ran dry. | Kate Atkinson | ||
| 96fc5bf | Just because something bad had happened to her doesn't mean it won't happen again. | Kate Atkinson | ||
| 8ce372e | The other patrollers were boys and men of bad character; the work attracted a type. In another country they would have been criminals, but this was America. | criminals jobs slave-catchers slavery united-states united-states-of-america us usa | Colson Whitehead | |
| 43ce7d5 | Men start off good and then the world makes them mean. The world is mean from the start and gets meaner every day. It uses you up until you only dream of death. | Colson Whitehead | ||
| eef06cb | But we have all been branded even if you can't see it, inside if not without | Colson Whitehead | ||
| 87218ef | The park sustained them, the green harbor they preserved as the town extended itself outward, block by block and house by house. Cora thought of her garden back on Randall, the plot she cherished. Now she saw it for the joke it was - a tiny square of dirt that had convinced her she owned something. It was hers like the cotton she seeded, weeded, and picked was hers. Her plot was a shadow of something that lived elsewhere, out of sight. The .. | Colson Whitehead | ||
| 994d3c4 | Miss stone, I adore you. | Judith McNaught | ||
| 9a7e419 | Let's get it over with, so I can stop wondering. How many have there been?" Lauren stared at him."How many what?" "Lovers," he clarified bitterly. She could hardly believe her ears. After treating her as if her standards of morality were childish, after acting as if promiscuity was a virtue, after telling her how man preferred experienced women, he was jealous. Because now he cared. Lauren didn't know whether to hit him, burst out laughing .. | Judith McNaught | ||
| 3c0164c | I'm familiar with the myth, I'm merely surprised that a female would be familiar with the classics." "You must have a very limited experience with my sex," Alexandra said, surprised. "My grandfather said most women are every bit as intelligent as men." She saw his eyes take on the sudden gleam of suppressed laughter and assumed, mistakenly, that he was amused by her assessment of female intelligence rather than her remark about his inexperi.. | funny historical-romance woman-power | Judith McNaught | |
| a6d036a | The two of them simply weren't attracted to just any attractive, eligible man; they were attracted rarely, but when it happened, it was evidently a life-altering experience. | experience life | Judith McNaught | |
| 6e5021e | His weakness in this game, and in life, is that he's never prepared for how others will act. They are predetermined but too complex to solve or predict, and there are rules that he is just no good at applying. | turing | Janna Levin | |
| b7348b0 | Comely was the town by the curving river that they dismantled in a year's time. Beautiful was Colleton in her last spring as she flung azaleas like a girl throwing rice at a desperate wedding. In dazzling profusion, Colleton ripened in a gauze of sweet gardens and the town ached beneath a canopy of promissory fragrance. | nostalgia small-town south-carolina spring | Pat Conroy | |
| bb19dde | The pursuit of greatness means that laziness has no place in your life. | hobby passion skills | Pat Conroy | |
| e3eb0ad | I blaze with a deep sullen magic, smell lust like a heron on fire; all words I form into castles then storm them with soldiers of air. What I seek is not there for asking. My armies are fit and well trained. This poet will trust her battalions to fashion her words into blades. At dawn I shall ask them for beauty, for proof that their training went well. At night I shall beg their forgiveness as I cut their throats by the hill. My navies adv.. | Pat Conroy | ||
| 057799a | Her secret, we would discover, was that once you have traveled, the voyage never ends, but is played out over and over again in the quietest chambers, that the mind can never break off from the journey. | Pat Conroy | ||
| 8a30c55 | Perfect doesn't just mean happy. Perfect can have lots of different parts. - Niles. | south-of-broad | Pat Conroy | |
| ef295d5 | Paranoia has a sharper taste if the danger is real. | Pat Conroy | ||
| c93318f | You do not learn how to write novels in a writing program. You learn how by leading an interesting life. Open yourself up to all experience. Let life pour through you the way light pours through leaves. | novelist write writer | Pat Conroy | |
| a2712d1 | Good coaching is good teaching and nothing else. | mentoring teaching | Pat Conroy | |
| 6966a6d | I certainly should have,' he agrees, smiling and thinking what an absurd and universally-accepted bit of nonsense it is, that your best friends must necessarily be the ones who best understand you. As if there weren't far too much understanding in the world already; above all, that understanding between lovers, celebrated in song and story, which is actually such torture that no two of them can bear it without frequent separations or fights.. | Christopher Isherwood |