1
2
3
5
8
12
20
33
52
83
133
213
340
543
867
1384
2208
2209
2210
2211
2212
2213
3346
3522
5443
5619
6757
7581
8098
8422
8625
8752
8832
8882
8913
8932
8945
8953
8957
8960
8962
8963
8964
8965
▲
▼
| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 77ca31b | A beautiful face can mask great evil... | evil face mask | Francine Rivers | |
| 3cc10a4 | For we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago" (Ephesians 2:10)." | Francine Rivers | ||
| d83c7be | But I guess even the knights were vessels to someone. Isn't that the way it worked? But then everyone is always a vessel to someone. | Raymond Carver | ||
| d4220fb | There is no general doctrine which is not capable of eating out our morality if unchecked by the deep-seated habit of direct fellow-feeling with individual fellow-men. | George Eliot | ||
| 728527d | One white man on the platform in South Carolina asked us where we were going--we had got off the train to get some fresh air and to dust the grit and dust out of our clothes. When we said Africa he looked offended and tickled too. Niggers going to Africa, he said to his wife. Now I have seen everything. | Alice Walker | ||
| 325b9ea | Everybody knows there is no fineness or accuracy of suppression; if you hold down one thing you hold down the adjoining. | Saul Bellow | ||
| 3fe1273 | Only self-hatred could lead him to ruin himself because his heart was "broken." | Saul Bellow | ||
| 03e25cb | External life being so mighty, the instruments so huge and terrible, the performances so great, the thoughts so great and threatening, you produce a someone who can exist before it. You invent a man who can stand before the terrible appearances. This way he can't get justice and he can't give justice, but he can live. And this is what mere humanity always does. It's made up of these inventors or artists, millions and millions of them, each .. | Saul Bellow | ||
| d52654f | And I said to myself that unless you conceive Death to be a violent guerrilla and kidnaper who snatches those you love, and if you are not cowardly and cannot submit to such terrorism as civilized people now do in every department of life, you must pursue and inquire and explore every possibility and seek everywhere and try everything. | Saul Bellow | ||
| 5d7fe39 | Millions of people can draw. Art is whether there is a scream in you wanting to get out in a special way. | creativity special talent uniqueness | Chaim Potok | |
| 725b0d1 | My name is Asher Lev... I am a traitor, an apostate, a self-hater, an inflicter of shame upon my family, my friends, my people; also, I am a mocker of ideas sacred to Christians, a blasphemous manipulator of modes and forms revered by Gentiles for two thousand years. | Chaim Potok | ||
| 64bd239 | The same river can never be crossed twice. The flowing water has no memory of footprints. | Robert R. McCammon | ||
| bfb57c6 | My heartbeat boomed like a dull motor in my ears. I am I am I am. | Sylvia Plath | ||
| 628afa7 | brave love, dream | passion poetry | Sylvia Plath | |
| 5ef59af | I felt myself shrink to a small black dot against all those red and white rugs and that pine paneling. I felt like a hole in the ground. | Sylvia Plath | ||
| b7bf44d | We all like to think that we are important enough to need psychiatrists. | Sylvia Plath | ||
| 5df60fd | I had imagined a kind, ugly, intuitive man looking up and say, 'Ah!' in an encouraging way, as if he could see something I couldn't, and then I would find words to tell him how I was so scared, as if I were being stuffed farther and farther into a black, airless sack with no way out. | Sylvia Plath | ||
| 55b934a | I also had a dim idea that if I walked the streets of New York by myself all night something of the city's mystery and magnificence might rub off on me at last. But I gave it up. | magnificence mystery new-york solitude | Sylvia Plath | |
| b7ead06 | God, I scream for time to let go, to write, to think. But no. I have to exercise my memory in little feats just so I can stay in this damn wonderful place which I love and hate with all my heart. And so the snow slows and swirls, and melts along the edges. The first snow isn't good for much. It makes a few people write poetry, a few wonder if the Christmas shopping is done, a few make reservations at the skiing lodge. It's a sentimental pre.. | Sylvia Plath | ||
| 35203b3 | The first time I saw a fingerbowl was at the home of my benefactress. [...] The water had a few cherry blossoms in it, and I thought it must be some clear sort of Japanese after-dinner soup and ate every bit of it, including the crisp little blossoms. | Sylvia Plath | ||
| ae60bba | So, now I shall talk every night. To myself. To the moon... I talk to myself and look at the dark trees, blessedly neutral. So much easier than facing people, than having to look happy, invulnerable, clever. With masks down, I walk, talking to the moon, to the neutral impersonal force that does not hear, but merely accepts my being. And does not smite me down. | Sylvia Plath | ||
| 9e0e65c | I cannot life for life itself: but for the words which stay the flux. My life, I feel, will not be lived until there are books and stories which relive it perpetually in time. I forget too easily how it was, and shrink to the horror of the here and now, with no past and no future. Writing breaks open the vaults of the dead and the skies behind which the prophesying angels hide. The mind makes and makes, spinning its web. | Sylvia Plath | ||
| 3b39024 | daddy daddy you bastard, i'm through | Sylvia Plath | ||
| 4f3ca62 | She looks like a woman who has found it ridiculous to commit herself to a single emotional stance in anything, but must always ride high heavy irony. | Sylvia Plath | ||
| 1175254 | To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is the bad dream. A bad dream. I remembered everything. I remembered the cadavers and Doreen and the story of the fig tree and Marco's diamond and the sailor on the Common and Doctor Gordon's wall-eyed nurse and the broken thermometer and the Negro with his two kinds of beans and the twenty pounds I gained on insulin and the rock that bulged between sky and se.. | Sylvia Plath | ||
| bef08c0 | My mother smiled. "I knew my baby wasn't like that." I looked at her. "Like what?" "Like those awful people. Those awful dead people at that hospital." She paused. "I knew you'd decide to be all right again." | decision depression hospital mental-health mental-health-stigma stigma | Sylvia Plath | |
| a3463b1 | I wondered what terrible thing it was that I had done. | Sylvia Plath | ||
| a0c60cf | Love Letter" Not easy to state the change you made. If I'm alive now, then I was dead, Though, like a stone, unbothered by it, Staying put according to habit. You didn't just tow me an inch, no- Nor leave me to set my small bald eye Skyward again, without hope, of course, Of apprehending blueness, or stars. That wasn't it. I slept, say: a snake Masked among black rocks as a black rock In the white hiatus of winter- Like my neighbors, taking.. | Sylvia Plath | ||
| c76b49a | The reason I hadn't washed my clothes or my hair was because it seemed so silly. I saw the day of the year stretching ahead like a series of bright, white boxes, and separating one box from another was sleep, like a black shade. Only for me, the long perspective of shades that set off one box from the next had suddenly snapped up, and I could see day after day glaring ahead of me like a white, broad, infinitely desolate avenue. It seemed si.. | Sylvia Plath | ||
| 86268a8 | I wondered at what point in space the silly, sham blue of the sky turned black. | Sylvia Plath | ||
| 55b7a5a | Stasis in darkness. Then the substanceless blue | Sylvia Plath | ||
| edc7fe7 | A living doll, everywhere you look. It can sew, it can cook, It can talk, talk, talk. It works, there is nothing wrong with it. You have a hole, its a poultice. You have an eye, its an image. My boy, its your last resort. Will you marry it, marry it, marry it. | Sylvia Plath | ||
| be4ff01 | No place so scared from such frops is barred Nor is Paul's Church more safe than Paul's Churchyard | Alexander Pope | ||
| 4f8eb7b | How sad, how strange, we make companions out of air and hurt them, so they will defy us, completing creation. | John Updike | ||
| 05effe8 | To write well, to write passionately, to be less inhibited, to be warmer, to be more self-critical, to recognize the power of as well as the force of lust, to write, to love. | John Cheever | ||
| 4520e6f | It was the happiest moment of my life, though I didn't know it. Had I known, had I cherished this gift, would everything have turned out differently? | Orhan Pamuk | ||
| 16c5df3 | at the end of the day there was nothing to be gained by reminding people that everything that had ever been written, even the greatest and most authoritative texts in the world, were about dreams, not real life, dreams conjured up by words. | ideas words | Orhan Pamuk | |
| 4b09572 | kl shy' fy lb`ydi ynthy . | Orhan Pamuk | ||
| 9a2c55f | Love is the urgency to hold fast to another and to be together in the same place. It's the desire to keep the world out by embracing another. It is the yearning to find a safe harbor for the human soul. | Orhan Pamuk | ||
| 9c18344 | These were innocent people, so innocent that they thought poverty a crime that wealth would allow them to forget. --- from the notebooks of Celal Salik | Orhan Pamuk | ||
| 14a490b | This is the greatest consolation in life. In poetically well-built museums, formed from the heart's compulsions, we are consoled not by finding in them old objects that we love, but by losing all sense of Time. | living-life museums time timelessness | Orhan Pamuk | |
| 55fbfe2 | I'm a dog, and because you humans are much less rational beasts than I, you're telling yourselves, 'Dogs don't talk.' Nethertheless, you seem to believe a story in which corpses speak and characters use words they couldn't possibly know. Dogs do speak, but only to those who know how to listen. | Orhan Pamuk | ||
| 4cb6705 | And before long, the music, the views rushing past the window, my fathers voice and the narrow cobblestone streets all merged into one, and it seemed to me that while we would never find answers to these fundamental questions, it was good for us to ask them anyway. | Orhan Pamuk | ||
| e72b89a | Ka found it very soothing: for the first time in years, he felt part of a family. In spite of the trials and responsibilities of what was called 'family', he saw now the joys of its unyielding togetherness, and was sorry not to have known more of it in his life. | family | Orhan Pamuk |