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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 120199c | One thing has led to the next in my life, but like lines of a poem. I suppose I've thrown in my lot with love, and don't know any other way to go on breathing. | David Guterson | ||
| af18726 | Ben remembered that in Italy, he and Rachel had slipped down between rows of apple trees on the plain of the Po, deep into the cool and dark of orchards, and there they had kissed with the sadness of newlyweds who know that their kisses are too poignantly tender and that their good fortune is subject, like all things, to the crush of time, which remorselessly obliterates what is most desired and pervades all that is beautiful. | David Guterson | ||
| 38a6816 | When it's time to confess, you don't know what you're saying. Are you telling the truth, or do you confuse your lies with reality? The question is comical. The answer is lost in the maelstroms of consciousness. It's even impossible to pretend, eventually, that the question wasn't asked. You've been kidding yourself about yourself for so long, you're someone else. Your you is just a fragile fabrication. Every morning, you have to wake up, as.. | fantasy-vs-reality losing-yourself | David Guterson | |
| df7c00f | I broke out into a sweat and the worlds of Rilke, the poet, entered my brain -- his notion that we are all of us born with a letter inside us, and that only if we are true to ourselves, may we be allowed to read it before we die. | Douglas Coupland | ||
| 1bad489 | I then return to my seat and something happens to me-- something inside me is exhausted and worn and stops spinning and I break down and cry. I cry because the future has once again found its sparkle and grown a million times larger. And I cry because... of how badly I behaved during my own personal Dark Ages-- back before I had a future and someone who cared for me from above. It is like today the sky opened up and only now am I allowed to.. | Douglas Coupland | ||
| 27cd553 | and after those big strokes, what's to tell? We run out of things that make us individual very quickly; all of us have far more in common than we do not have in common. | Douglas Coupland | ||
| c31a6f4 | The only way to the top is killing and greed. Okay, I'm kidding. But killing helps. | humor-inspirational | Douglas Coupland | |
| 0db708a | I wonder that all things seem to be from hell these days: dates, jobs, parties, weather...Could the situation be that we no longer believe in that particular place? Or maybe we were all promised heaving in our lifetimes, and what we ended up with can't hep but suffer in comparison. | Douglas Coupland | ||
| 1800ca8 | You can't be neutral on a moving train," I would tell them. Some were baffled by the metaphor, especially if they took it literally and tried to dissect its meaning. Others immediately saw what I meant: that events are already moving in certain deadly directions, and to be neutral means to accept that." | Howard Zinn | ||
| e28ccd6 | Tecumseh, a Shawnee chief and noted orator, tried to unite the Indians against the white invasion: The way, and the only way, to check and to stop this evil, is for all the Redmen to unite in claiming a common and equal right in the land, as it was at first and should be yet; for it was never divided, but belongs to all for the use of each. That no part has a right to sell, even to each other, much less to strangers--those who want all and .. | Howard Zinn | ||
| 302f9f4 | A jury is always a more orthodox body than any defendant brought before it; for blacks it is usually a whiter group, for poor people, a more prosperous group... Another lesson about the justice system: the way the judge charges the jury inevitably pushes them one way or the other, limits their independent judgment. | impartiality judicial-power jury jury-instructions orthodoxy | Howard Zinn | |
| 76146c2 | Slavery existed in the African states, and it was sometimes used by Europeans to justify their own slave trade. But, as Davidson points out, the "slaves" of Africa were more like the serfs of Europe--in other words, like most of the population of Europe." | Howard Zinn | ||
| 5c6e5a6 | Three years before the terrible events of September 11, 2001, a former lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Air Force, Robert Bowman, who had flown 101 combat missions in Vietnam, and then had become a Catholic bishop, commented on the terrorist bombings of the U.S. embassies in Kenya and Tanzania. In an article in the National Catholic Reporter he wrote about the roots of terrorism: We are not hated because we practice democracy, value freedom, .. | Howard Zinn | ||
| 349072f | If you permit unprincipled and ambitious men to monopolize the soil, they will become masters of the country in the certain order of cause and effect. . . . | Howard Zinn | ||
| 33b682c | The country therefore was not "born free" but born slave and free, servant and master, tenant and landlord, poor and rich." | Howard Zinn | ||
| f6003e4 | Ruling elites seem to have learned through the generations--consciously or not--that war makes them more secure against internal trouble. | Howard Zinn | ||
| d525a2f | It was an old lesson learned by governments: that war solves problems of control. | Howard Zinn | ||
| 6efb074 | He leaned forward and kissed me lightly. "Not forever," he said onto my mouth. And though I knew it was a lie, I put my arms around his neck and kissed him. He pulled me onto his lap, holding me tightly against him as his lips parted mine. I became aware of every pore in my body when his tongue entered my mouth. Though the horror of Rhysand's magic still tore at me, I pushed Tamlin onto the bed, straddling him, pinning him as if it would so.. | Sarah J. Maas | ||
| d67c11a | But I met his stare as I clinked my glass against his, the crystal ringing clear and bright over the crashing sea far below, and said, "To the people who look up at the stars and wish, Rhys." He picked up his glass, his gaze so piercing that I wondered why I had bothered blushing at all for Tarquin. Rhys clinked his glass against mine. "To the stars who listen-and the dreams that are answered." | Sarah J. Maas | ||
| dc3e2f7 | I ever needed them. He'd taken my weapons, | Sarah J. Maas | ||
| a796f57 | Yes, he'd fought for me--but I'd fought harder for him. Again, | Sarah J. Maas | ||
| 024b0cc | You can't write, yet you learned to hunt, to survive. How?" I paused with my foot on the threshold. "That's what happens when you're responsible for lives other than your own, isn't it? You do what you have to do." He was still sitting on the table, still straddling that inner line between the here and now and wherever he'd had to go in his mind to endure the fight with the Bogge. I met his feral and glowing stare. "You aren't what I expect.. | feyre high-lord human responsible survive tamlin write | Sarah J. Maas | |
| 33fec9d | Porque ya no importaba que futuro hubiera vislumbrado o con quien hubiera previsto compartirlo; no concebia la vida sin ella ni desearia nunca a ninguna otra mujer | Sarah J. Maas | ||
| e90dc6e | There once was a lady most beautiful Spirited, if a little unusual Her friends were few But how did the man queue But to all she gave a refusal | Sarah J. Maas | ||
| 4f5c66f | That was when they noticed that every musician on the stage was wearing mourning black. That was when they shut up. And when the conductor raised his arms, it was not a symphony that filled the cavernous space. It was the Song of Eyllwe. Then Song of Fenharrow. And Melisande. And Terrasen. Each nation that had people in those labour camps. And finally, not for pomp or triumph, but to mourn what they had become, they played the Song of Adarl.. | music musician rebellion | Sarah J Maas | |
| eb33dc8 | But Amarantha rolled her eyes and slouched in her throne. "Shatter him, Rhysand." She flicked a hand at the High Lord of the Summer Court. "You may do what you want with the body afterward." The High Lord of the Summer Court bowed--as if he'd been given a gift--and looked to his subject, who had gone still and calm on the floor, hugging his knees. The male faerie was ready--relieved. Rhys slipped a hand out of his pocket, and it dangled at .. | feyre kill mind punish rhysand | Sarah J. Maas | |
| 640e2c0 | She didn't let herself finish that thought, though crippling nausea gripped her as she scanned the banks and docks and sewer depositories. He would be waiting for her at home. And then he'd chide her and laugh at her and kiss her. And them she'd dispatch Jayne tonight, and then they'd set sail on this river and then out to the nearby sea, and then be gone. He would be waiting at home. | Sarah J. Maas | ||
| 2f54587 | Lucien drawled from his seat along the length of the table, "I told you so, Tamlin." He flicked a glance toward his friend. "Your skills with females have definitely become rusty in recent decades." Tamlin. He glowered at Lucien, shifting in his seat. I tried not to stiffen at the other bit of information Lucien had given away. Decades. Tamlin" | Sarah J. Maas | ||
| 36b9875 | Petrah had said. Had smiled as she said it. Manon told herself it was for an alliance. Told herself it was for show. But all she could see was the unconditional love in that dying wyvern's eyes as she unbuckled her harness, stood from the saddle, and leapt off Abraxos. | manon-blackbeak pg527 unconditional-love | Sarah J. Maas | |
| 10cb1e6 | I would like to build a garden," she declared. "After all of this... I think the world needs more gardens." My throat was too tight to immediately reply, so I just kissed my sister's cheek before I said, "Yes - I think it does." | Sarah J. Maas | ||
| 57fbd70 | The curving stones of the gateway loomed, and she drew the sword from her back with her right hand, her left hand enveloped in flame. | Sarah J. Maas | ||
| 3f40649 | He nodded. "And how old are you?" "Eighteen." But he said nothing. "I know," she continued. "It is impressive that I accomplished so much at such an early age." "Crime isn't an accomplishment, Sardothien." | Sarah J. Maas | ||
| 6ad8a73 | What Aelin had done ... what she'd lied about ... Some of the blood on the ground had dried. If Aelin was gone, if her life would indeed be the cost if she ever got free ... "Maeve" | Sarah J. Maas | ||
| 520560b | He cocked his head. "I've never been with a witch." | manon queen-of-shadows | Sarah J. Maas | |
| 621a95a | Men didn't build more armies and forge more weapons without having plans to use them. | Sarah J. Maas | ||
| dfa5d51 | From me," Kaltain said, in a voice that was dead and hollow and yet vicious. "It has always been there--asleep. And now it has been awoken. Shaped anew." | pg265 shadowfire | Sarah J. Maas | |
| 30225c9 | TERRASEN REMEMBERS EVALIN ASHRYVER. DO YOU? I FOUGHT AT MISTWARD FOR YOUR PEOPLE. RETURN THE GODS-DAMNED FAVOR. And | Sarah J. Maas | ||
| 67253dc | of seeing her for who she was--not what she was | Sarah J. Maas | ||
| 969c87f | Kaltain," her uncle rumbled, a demand and a threat and a promise. The silent young woman--the one who never spoke, who never looked at anything, who had such marks on her. Elide had seen her only a few times. Had seen how little she responded. Or fought back. And then Elide was walking up the stairs." | kaltain-rompier pg277 | Sarah J. Maas | |
| 7b18554 | My Most True Assassin, Enclosed are seven books from my personal library that I have recently read and enjoyed immensely. You are, of course, free to read as many of the books in the castle library as you wish, but I command you to read these first so that we might discuss them. I promise they are not dull, for I am not one inclined to sit through pages of nonsense and bloated speech, though perhaps you enjoy works and authors who think ver.. | Sarah J. Maas | ||
| c45bc52 | He saw her face each time he closed his eyes. She haunted his thoughts, made him wish to do grand and wonderful things in her name, made him want to be a man who deserved to wear a crown. | Sarah J. Maas | ||
| f97fe6c | Let these men play at being gods. | Sarah J. Maas | ||
| 690b4e8 | Of course I like luxury--you think I don't love these gowns and jewels? But in the end ... they're replaceable. I've come to value the people in my life more. | Sarah J. Maas | ||
| 9e05abe | Don't tell me what I do and don't deserve. Don't tell me about tomorrow, or the future, or any of it. | rowan-whitehorn | Sarah J. Maas |