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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| c8d5dcc | One gal drank a can of floor wax and topped it off with a cup of Clorox, trying to separate herself from the same world he was in. | Fannie Flagg | ||
| 0fcec80 | Why can't parents dance? Is it some universal law of physics or something? | Sophie Kinsella | ||
| 0b5a64a | what would Poirot do? Poirot wouldn't flap around in a panic. He'd stay calm and use his little grey cells and recall some tiny, vital detail which would be the clue to everything. | Sophie Kinsella | ||
| 3863441 | It is absolutely what I think.' He looks deadly serious now. 'These academic guys have to feel important. They give papers and present TV programmes to show they're useful and valuable. But you do useful, valuable work every day. You don't need to prove anything. How many people have you treated? Hundreds. You've reduced their pain. You've made hundreds of people happier. Has Antony Tavish ever made anyone happier? | Sophie Kinsella | ||
| 24c6bab | You never know how things are going to turn out, however much you plan. | Sophie Kinsella | ||
| c35c739 | Men who want to get married propose. You don't need to read the signs. They propose and that's the sign. | Sophie Kinsella | ||
| 6f2feb8 | We're just... friends. No, doesn't feel right. Not colleagues either. Not really acquaintances... OK. Let's face it. It's weird. | Sophie Kinsella | ||
| 34421d2 | There are some things I don't understand about Jess and never will. No wedding dress. No flowers. No photo album. No champagne. The only thing she got out of her wedding was a husband. (I mean, obviously the husband is the main point when you get married. Absolutely. That goes without saying. But still, not even a new pair of shoes?) | Sophie Kinsella | ||
| 66d9570 | Our eyes met in the math class. How were we to know that trigonometry would lead to matrimony? | Sophie Kinsella | ||
| e8bd974 | I can do this, I tell myself firmly. I can be attracted to him. It's just a matter of self control and possibly also getting very drunk. So I lift my glass and take several huge gulps. I can feel the bubbles surging into my head, singing happily "I'm going to be a millionaire's wife! I'm going to be a millionaire's wife!" And when I look back at Tarquin, he already looks a bit more attractive. Alcohol is obviously going to be the key to our.. | Sophie Kinsella | ||
| b228be0 | Do the thing that's less passive. Do the active thing. There's more of the human in that. | Nuala O'Faolain | ||
| dc1513c | Sanity is a valuable possession; I hoard it the way people once hoarded money. I save it, so I will have enough, when the time comes. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| ec73830 | We have been shark to one another, but also lifeboat. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| eea93f0 | That way nobody feels exploited." "Wait a minute," says Stan. "Nobody's exploited?" "I said nobody feels exploited," says Budge. "Different thing." | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 4915748 | But in the closeness of the sewing room, Simon can smell her as well as look at her. He tries to pay no attention but her scent is a distracting undercurrent. She smells like smoke; smoke, and laundry soap, and the salt from her skin; and she smells of the skin itself, with its undertone of dampness, fullness, ripeness - what? Ferns and mushrooms; fruits crushed and fermenting. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| fe6592e | She knows she's deceiving herself about that, but she prefers to deceive herself. She desperately needs to believe such pure joy is still possible. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 0d56094 | Wars happen because the ones who start them think they can win. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 85faf31 | Which does a man prefer? Bacon and eggs, or worship? Sometimes one, sometimes the other, depending how hungry he is. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| d911e04 | Now she imagines him dreaming. She imagines him dreaming of her, as she is dreaming of him. Through a sky the color of wet slate they fly towards each other on dark invisible wings. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| f02bdfb | Sanity is a valuable possession: I hoard it the way people once hoarded money. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| a8aaa85 | We have learned to see the world in gasps. | hope inspiration restriction | Margaret Atwood | |
| 4ea9c97 | She had her reasons. Not that they were the same as anybody else's reasons. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 75e9eb8 | Don't go into great detail describing places and things, unless you're Margaret Atwood and can paint scenes with language. You don't want descriptions that bring the action, the flow of the story, to a standstill. | Elmore Leonard | ||
| 48bd2db | I have a fork and a spoon, but never a knife... as if I'm lacking manual skills or teeth. I have both, however. That's why I'm not allowed a knife. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 30c669a | Live in the present, make the most of it, it's all you've got. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| d66f498 | A great fear came over me, and my body went entirely cold, and I stood as if paralyzed with fear; for I knew that the horse was no earthly horse, but the pale horse that will be sent at the Day of Reckoning, and the rider of it is Death; and it was Death himself who stood behind me, with his arms wrapped around me as tight as iron bands, and his lipless mouth kissing my neck as if in love. But as well as the horror, I also felt a strange lo.. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 256bed5 | The sun was up, the room already too warm. Light filtered in through the net curtains, hanging suspended in the air, sediment in a pond. My head felt like a sack of pulp. Still in my nightgown, damp from some fright I'd pushed aside like foliage, I pulled myself up and out of my tangled bed, then forced myself through the usual dawn rituals - the ceremonies we perform to make ourselves look sane and acceptable to other people. The hair must.. | sleep sleeping wake-up waking-up | Margaret Atwood | |
| 0af48d1 | We get along by a symbiotic adjustment of habits and with a minimum of that pale-mauve hostility you often find among women. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 62f44ed | Charis herself gave up Christianity a long time ago. For one thing, the Bible is full of meat: animals being sacrificed, lambs, bullocks, doves. Cain was right to offer up the vegetables, God was wrong to refuse them. And there's too much blood: people in the Bible are always having their blood spilled, blood on their hands, their blood licked up by dogs. There are too many slaughters, too much suffering, too many tears. She used to think s.. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 69be9ab | More often than not, she acted as if she wanted to protect him, from the image of herself--herself in the past. She liked to keep only the bright side of herself turned towards him. She liked to shine. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 9cbaf1e | Knowledge is power only as long as you keep your mouth shut. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 7e50b3b | I want my father to be just my father, the way he has always been, not a separate person with an earlier, mythological life of his own. Knowing too much about other people puts you in their power, they have a claim on you, you are forced to understand their reasons for doing things and then you are weakened. | father knowledge parents | Margaret Atwood | |
| fa40588 | That is what you have to do before you kill, I thought. You have to create an it, where none was before. You do that first in your head, and then you make it real. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| ce0b557 | Walking was not fast enough so we ran. Running was not fast enough, so we galloped. Galloping was not fast enough, so we sailed. Sailing was not fast enough, so we rolled merrily along on long metal tracks. Long metal tracks were not fast enough, so we drove. Driving was not fast enough, so we flew. Flying isn't fast enough, not fast enough for us. We want to get there faster. Get where? Wherever we are not. But a human soul can go only as .. | humans people progress souls speed | Margaret Atwood | |
| bd308b7 | I hunger to commit the act of touch. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| 01e3234 | It's clear, it's fresh, like a mint candy. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| b42a769 | History is a construct...Any point of entry is possible and all choices are arbitrary. Still there are definitive moments...We can look at these events and say that after them things were never the same again. | history womens-history | Margaret Atwood | |
| ca4e749 | Sanity is a valuable possession. | Margaret Atwood | ||
| ad2b656 | Nature full strength is more than we can take, Adam One used to say. It's a potent hallucinogen, a soporific, for the untrained Soul. We're no longer at home in it. We need to dilute it. We can't drink it straight. And God is the same. Too much God and you overdose. God needs to be filtered. | scifi the-year-of-the-flood toby | Margaret Atwood | |
| 36649ad | There was old sex in the room and loneliness, and expectation, of something without a shape or name. I remember that yearning, and was never the same as the hands that were on us there and then, in the small of the back, or out back, in the parking lot, or in the television room with the sound turned down and only the pictures flickering over lifting flesh. We yearned for the future How did we learn it, that talent for insatiability? | insatiability loneliness sex yearning | Margaret Atwood | |
| 5fa4a52 | There is the staircase, there is the sun. There is the kitchen, the plate with toast and strawberry jam, your subterfuge, your ordinary mirage. You stand red-handed. You want to wash yourself in earth, in rocks and grass What are you supposed to do with all this loss? In the daylight we know what's gone is gone, but at night it's different. Nothing gets finished, not dying, not mourning; the dead repeat themselves, like clumsy drunks lurchi.. | poetry | Margaret Atwood | |
| e8405ed | We were revisionists; what we revised was ourselves. | revisionism self | Margaret Atwood | |
| 8410667 | It's the end of the world every day, for someone. | life | Margaret Atwood | |
| a42ba22 | How much misery...how much needless despair has been caused by a series of biological mismatches, a misalignment of the hormones and pheromones? Resulting in the fact that the one you love so passionately won't or can't love you. As a species we're pathetic in that way: imperfectly monogamous. If only we could pair-bond for life, like gibbons, or else opt for total-guilt free promiscuity, there'd be no more sexual torment. You'd never want .. | Margaret Atwood |