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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 2e39041 | Fuck them all. I ought to have that tattooed on my forehead, for all the times I've thought it. | Jodi Picoult | ||
| 5f781c4 | Shooting stars are not stars at all. They're just rocks that enter the atmosphere and catch fire under friction. What we wish on, when we see one, is only a trail of debris. | Jodi Picoult | ||
| 011eade | Eric understands that the world is rarely the way it is supposed to be. And he knows that, given the chance, we don't have to wait for someone to make messes of our lives. We do a good enough job, ourselves. | mess wait world | Jodi Picoult | |
| 0242adc | every now and then, i worry about people in the third world countries. and then i figure if they all started having sex, their lives would be considerably brighter. | sex third-world-countries | Jodi Picoult | |
| d56d1b5 | As a child, what I was missing was so much bigger to me than what I had. My mother-mythic, imaginary-was a deity and a superhero and a comfort all at once. If only I'd had her, surely, she would have been the answer to every problem; if only I'd had her , she would have been the cure for everything that ever had gone wrong in my life. | Jodi Picoult | ||
| 65f8f12 | Stupid English." "English isn't stupid," I say. "Well, my English teacher is." He makes a face. "Mr. Franklin assigned an essay about our favorite subject, and I wanted to write about lunch, but he won't let me." "Why not?" "He says lunch isn't a subject." | grammar humor school | Jodi Picoult | |
| e6bcc04 | We sit for a few more moments, although there's really nothing left to say. This is new to me, too, an entire conversation that takes place in silence, because the heart has its own language. I will remember what Eric says even though he doesn't say a word. I will tell it to her. | silence | Jodi Picoult | |
| b3f2230 | You have to understand - there is a romance to Africa. You can see a sunset and believe you have witnessed the hand of God. You watch the slow lope of a lioness and forget to breathe. You marvel at the tripod of a giraffe bent to water. In Africa, there are iridescent blues on the wings of birds that you do not see anywhere else in nature. In Africa, in the midday heat, you can see blisters in the atmosphere. When you are in Africa, you fee.. | Jodi Picoult | ||
| 6dc451b | We are never the people we think we are. We are the ones we pretend, with all our hearts we can't become. | Jodi Picoult | ||
| e70972b | DO you think it hurts to die?" Not as much as it hurts to live, Trixie thought." -- | deep life | Jodi Picoult | |
| c879e95 | Did you ever think our misfortune is directly related to your good fortune? Maybe the house your parents bought was on the market because the sellers didn't want my mama in the neighborhood. Maybe the good grades that eventually led you to law school were possible because your mama didn't have to work eighteen hours a day, and was there to read to you at night, or make sure you did your homework. How often do you remind yourself how lucky y.. | race white-privilege | Jodi Picoult | |
| 1693624 | The whole point of this examination is to make me feel lesser than... but I have spent 20 years seeing how beautiful women are. Not because of how they look, but because of what their bodies can withstand. | Jodi Picoult | ||
| 5769d07 | the part of the brain, physiologically, that allows us to blame everything on people we do not really know is the same part of the brain that allows us to have compassion for strangers | Jodi Picoult | ||
| 841df0f | To say there had been a loss was ludicrous; one lost a shoe or a set of keys. You did not suffer the death of a child and say there was a loss. There was a catastrophe. A devastation. A hell. | Jodi Picoult | ||
| f0c1bf5 | Just because you turn out differently than everyone's imagined you would doesn't mean that you've failed in some way. | Jodi Picoult | ||
| 68581d3 | And naturally she wanted to believe she would have been a hero, when push came to shove. But you never knew what path you'd take until you got to that crossroads. | Jodi Picoult | ||
| 007343e | This is what it means to be human. We are all just canvases for our scars. | life-journey scars | Jodi Picoult | |
| c6cc1c0 | On the day before classes were supposed to start, Mama took me out to dinner. "You're destined to do small great things," she told me. "Just like Dr. King said." She was referring to one of her favorite quotes: If I cannot do great things, I can do small things in a great way." | Jodi Picoult | ||
| 74862b1 | Sometimes, to get what you want the most, you have to do what you want the least." - Julia Romano" | Jodi Picoult | ||
| 0f2b5d0 | Being a parent wasn't just about bearing a child. It was about bearing witness to its life. | life parent witness | Jodi Picoult | |
| 582d411 | Anna anna bo banna, banana fanna fo fanna, me my mo manna...Anna." "Chuck! Do Chuck!" | Jodi Picoult | ||
| f64f6a1 | She falters, then gather up the weeds of her thoughts and offers me the saddest, truest bouquet. | Jodi Picoult | ||
| cb4653c | Death is the guest you didn't invite: arriving when you least expect it, least need it and when you least want it. | Jodi Picoult | ||
| 1cb6085 | Is it really worth dying for the person you love? | Jodi Picoult | ||
| a9db163 | Actually, it's your kilt that makes me want to fling you to the floor and commit ravishment," I told him. "But you don't look at all bad in your breeks." [....]"Take them off," he repeated firmly. He stepped back and tugged loose the lacing of his flies. "Ye can put them back on again after, Sassenach, but if there's flinging and ravishing to be done, it'll be me that does it, aye?" | Diana Gabaldon | ||
| 4249379 | Like plumbing, medicine is a profession where you learn early on not to put your fingers in your mouth. | medicine | Diana Gabaldon | |
| 97fa3c7 | If I had a brother in jail and one in Georgia, I'd try to bust the one out of Georgia first. | Charles Frazier | ||
| e9d9f4c | Needing and getting don't seem likely to match up any time soon... What needs doing is mine to do. | Charles Frazier | ||
| 30be337 | That's the way it is at some point in life. An inevitable consequence of living. A lot of things begin falling away. | Charles Frazier | ||
| 272b654 | think it's as though everyone has a small place inside themselves, maybe, a private bit that they keep to themselves. It's like a little fortress, where the most private part of you lives--maybe it's your soul, maybe just that bit that makes you yourself and not anyone else. | Diana Gabaldon | ||
| e3465c0 | If I were a horse, I'd let him ride me anywhere. | Diana Gabaldon | ||
| a5ac3fd | The inferior man lived only in his fantasies, because he lacked willpower and imagination. The superior man made his fantasies a reality. (Martin Darius) | Phillip Margolin | ||
| e8728cc | Great discoveries, whether of silk or gravity, are always windfalls. They happen to people loafing under trees. | Jeffrey Eugenides | ||
| 620e16e | Maybe the best proof that the language is patriarchal is that it oversimplifies feeling. I'd like to have at my disposal complicated hybrid emotions. Germanic traincar constructions like, say, "the happiness that attends disaster." Or: "the disappointment of sleeping with one's fantasy". I'd like to show how "intimations of mortality brought on by aging family members" connects with "the hatred of mirrors that begins in middle age." -- | Jeffrey Eugenides | ||
| 000884b | You can...call me Da," he said. His voice was husky; he stopped and cleared his throat. "If--if ye want to, I mean," "Da. Is that Gaelic?" He smiled back, the corners of his mouth trembling slightly. "No. It's only...simple." And suddenly it was all simple. He held out his arms to her. She stepped into them and found that she had been wrong;--and his arms were as strong about her as she had ever dared to hope." | Diana Gabaldon | ||
| 1abe037 | You'd forgive me for Claire - but not for killing your . . . men." He glanced at the two Craddocks, spotty as a pair of raisin puddings and - Grey's look implied - likely no brighter." | jamie-fraser lord-john war | Diana Gabaldon | |
| 7a785e2 | Once I had thought I was whole -- had seemed to be able to love a man, to bear a child, to heal the sick--and know that all these things were natural parts of me, not the difficult, troubled fragments into which my life had now disintegrated. But that had been in the past, the man I had loved was Jamie, and for a time, I had been part of something greater than myself. | Diana Gabaldon | ||
| 8ee56d2 | Deftly whipping a small tuning fork from his pocket, he struck it smartly against a pillar and held it next to Jamie's left ear. Jamie rolled his eyes heavenward, but shrugged and obligingly sang a note. The little man jerked back as though he'd been shot. | Diana Gabaldon | ||
| bd40dbc | Could it be possible that he really did have enough imagination to be able to grasp the truth? | Diana Gabaldon | ||
| 513b707 | There were some chains you wore because you wanted to. | Diana Gabaldon | ||
| e6e763c | A man or a race either if he's any good can survive his past without even needing to escape from it and not because of the high quite often only too rhetorical rhetoric of humanity but for the simple indubitable practical reason of his future: that capacity to survive and absorb and endure and still be steadfast. | William Faulkner | ||
| 5868731 | What matters is at the end of life, when you're about to pass into oblivion, that you've at least scratched 'Kilroy was here,' on the last wall of the universe. | making-your-mark mementos memories notice oblivion | William Faulkner | |
| 592d5c8 | lifeless and shockingly alien in that place where dissolution itself was a seething turmoil of ejaculation tumescence conception and birth, and death did not even exit. | William Faulkner | ||
| cc9e862 | If Jesus returned today we would have to crucify him quick in our own defense, to justify and preserve the civilization we have worked and suffered and died shrieking and cursing in rage and impotence and terror for two thousand years to create and perfect in mans own image; if Venus returned she would be a soiled man in a subway lavatory with a palm full of French post-cards-- | William Faulkner |