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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| fdf268a | It is a positive and active anguish, a sort of psychical neuralgia wholly unknown to normal life. | William Styron | ||
| 3f6783c | Loss in all of its manifestations is the touchstone of depression--in the progress of the disease and, most likely, in its origin. | William Styron | ||
| 6e9dd62 | At Dachau. We had a wonderful pool for the garrison children. It was even heated. But that was before we were transferred. Dachau was ever so much nicer than Auschwitz. But then, it was in the Reich. See my trophies there. The one in the middle, the big one. That was presented to me by the Reich Youth Leader himself, Baldur von Schirach. Let me show you my scrapbook. | banality dachau evil hate holocaust swimming third-reich | William Styron | |
| 3d8dacf | I felt loss at every hand. The loss of self-esteem is a celebrated symptom, and my own sense of self had all but disappeared, along with any self-reliance. This loss can quickly degenerate into dependence, and from dependence into infantile dread. One dreads the loss of all things, all people close and dear. There is an acute fear of abandonment. | William Styron | ||
| 9598a7f | In depression this faith in deliverance, in ultimate restoration, is absent. The pain is unrelenting, and what makes the condition intolerable is the foreknowledge that no remedy will come--not in a day, an hour, a month, or a minute. | William Styron | ||
| 4482717 | They are like actors playing a role, sometimes enjoying their role on stage, but usually relieved to leave it | Kelley Armstrong | ||
| c54e36e | Lost love belongs in a three-minute song, pullling back feelings from a time when they came unbidden, recalling the infatuation, the walking on sunshine that cannot last and the pain of its loss, whether through parting or the passage of time, reminding us that we are emotional beings | lost-love | Graeme Simsion | |
| 56728d4 | If she's a psychology student, she'll love talking about herself. | Graeme Simsion | ||
| a30e0ae | You're saying your mother engaged in unprotected sex outside her primary relationship?' 'With some other student,' replied Rosie. 'While she was dating my' - at this point Rosie raised her hands and made a downwards movement, twice, with the index and middle fingers of both hands - 'father. My real dad's a doctor. I just don't know which one. Really, really pisses me off.' I was fascinated by the hand movements and silent for a while as I t.. | rosie social-ineptitude | Graeme Simsion | |
| ccdd6b7 | Why do we focus on certain things at the expense of others? We will risk our lives to save a person from drowning, yet not make a donation that could save dozens of children from starvation. We install solar panels when their impact on CO2 emissions is minimal - and indeed may have a net negative effect if manufacturing and installation are taken into account - rather than contributing to more efficient infrastructure projects. | Graeme Simsion | ||
| 22d07a3 | After the most basic physical requirements are satisfied, human happiness is almost independent of wealth. A meaningful job is far more important. | Graeme Simsion | ||
| 5d6783b | You are the world's most perfect woman. All other women are irrelevant. Permanently. No Botox or implants will be required. | Graeme Simsion | ||
| 2ac8e7b | I never watch sports. Ever. The reasons are obvious--or should be to anyone who values their time. | Graeme Simsion | ||
| cce9060 | In Cainsville, town elders still hold power. They'll protect you. | Kelley Armstrong | ||
| 05028bc | I blinked and wiped my hand over my face. My fingers came back damp. I glanced across the room and saw my reflection in the mirror, hair snarled, mascara running, face streaked with tears. "Yep, you look like shit," Adam said. "And I took plenty of pictures, which I will keep until an appropriate opportunity for blackmail arises." | look-like-shit | Kelley Armstrong | |
| fa90396 | It did not matter whether he thought she was in mortal danger or simply falling, certain to survive. She fell and he followed.. | Kelley Armstrong | ||
| 79e7efd | I could shave my head and wear a sackcloth and still get a whole lot of ghostly wrong numbers. Makes me wonder if there's some kind of ghost-necro porn industry down there. ~Jaime Vegas | Kelley Armstrong | ||
| 2fe68e3 | I'll keep it in my bedside drawer, in case I'm woken in the middle of the night and mistake the cat for an intruder. An honest accident." "You're not shooting the cat. It would leave a mess." | gabriel gun humor olivia | Kelley Armstrong | |
| 45dcc68 | Note to clients, quicklime is a preservative, not a corrosive. | Kelley Armstrong | ||
| 719d6be | I opened the bag and pulled out a small box of chocolates. She flashed me a huge smile that would have looked totally real ... if I didn't know her better. Her face went bright red now as she stammered, She stopped as I held out the bag. I said. She looked in and let out a choking laugh. Then, still grinning, she reached in and pulled out a penlight, a Swiss army knife and a purse-sized can of mace. She sputtered another laugh. I said.. | derek gift romantic | Kelley Armstrong | |
| 11b2c46 | When I stepped outside, the Wiccans stopped, turning as one body and bestowing beatific smiles on me... "Sister Winterbourne" the first one said. She threw open her arms, embrace me, planted a kiss on my lips, then another on my left breast. I yelped... I grabbed the nearest discarded robe. "Could you please put this-- Could you all put these-- Could you get dressed, please?" The woman only bestowed a serene smile on me. "We are as the Godd.. | Kelley Armstrong | ||
| 03b3d14 | Our eyes met and his grin stretched another quarter-inch. Another schoolgirl flip--followed by a very un-schoolgirl wave of heat. He leaned even farther over the boards, lips parting to say something. "Hey, Kris!" someone yelled behind him. "If you want to flirt with Eve, tell her to meet you in the penalty box. You'll be back there soon enough." | flirt hockey kristof penalty-box | Kelley Armstrong | |
| c5ae197 | Then you should take it for a spin. Cars like that shouldn't be left in storage. It causes mechanical issues. With brakes and tires and engines and such." My smile returned. "You have no idea what you're talking about, do you?" "Not a word." | Kelley Armstrong | ||
| eaba359 | I won't make excuses for what I did. The truth is that your whole life can change with one split-second decision, and it doesn't matter if you told yourself you'd never do it or if you stepped into the moment with no intention of doing it. All it takes is for that one second of absolute panic when the solution shines right there in front of you, and you grab it... only to have it turn into ash in your hand. There is no excuse for what I did.. | Kelley Armstrong | ||
| 5a20e5c | I should have a gun." "And you think I can provide it?" "Ask your biker gang buddies." "They prefer the term 'motorcycle club.'" "I'm sure they do." | gabriel gun kelley-armstrong motorcycles olivia omens | Kelley Armstrong | |
| 059b937 | Yeah yeah," h said. "I waited. She was decent. Although technically, she's still naked." "You're sch a perv," she turned on to me. "Okay, kitty. Lead on. We'll try to keep up." "Yeah,good luck with that," Rafe said. "If she runs, we're history." -- | rafael-martinez | Kelley Armstrong | |
| cdb91d9 | I wouldn't call Gabriel Walsh if I was on fire." She pursed her lips. "No, I might. To sue everyone responsible--from the person who lit the match to those who made my clothes. But I'd wait until the fire was out. Otherwise, he'd just stand there until I was burned enough for a sizable settlement." | grace lawyer-jokes olivia suing | Kelley Armstrong | |
| afd9351 | The stars were going out now, one by one, dropping like pennies behind the television aerials and the skylights and the washing strung between the chimneys. The sky was still dark - a sated, navy-blue woman - but the grass was jittery with the expectation of dawn. | dawn daybreak morning skylights stars television-aerials | Peter S. Beagle | |
| c7297f0 | I was one of the haves, and one of the secrets of being a have is not wasting your time on empathy. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| 8048d89 | Ah. My story. Are you certain you wish to hear it? It is long, unlikely, and remarkably unedifying -- shameful, even, to come from a minister's lips. Blasphemous, too, properly regarded. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| 478559c | He knew very well that the great majority of human conversation is meaningless. A man can get through most of his days on stock answers to stock questions, he thought. Once he catches onto the game, he can manage with an assortment of grunts. This would not be so if people listened to each other, but they don't. They know that no one is going to say anything moving and important to them at that very moment. Anything important will be announ.. | conversation listening politeness relationships status-quo | Peter S. Beagle | |
| 9a1bff1 | They know these mornings well and love them desperately because they cannot last - these people who know that nothing lasts. | impermanence morning | Peter S. Beagle | |
| db4a6e4 | Stories never end. We end. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| df4fec6 | It's everywhere: a system of thought and a set of invented and discriminatory practices in our laws, culture and economy that feminists call the patriarchy. Feminists are not out to get us. They're out to get the patriarchy. They don't hate men, they hate The Man. They're our mates. The patriarchy was created for the convenience of men, but it comes at a heavy cost to ourselves and to everyone else. | gender masculinity patriarchy | Robert Webb | |
| a3cbfa1 | her neat sweet features fixed in a small smile of polite wariness. | Jim Thompson | ||
| b8b6f60 | I have a story to tell you. It has many beginnings, and perhaps one ending. Perhaps not. Beginnings and endings are contingent things anyway; inventions, devices. Where does any story really begin? There is always context, always an encompassingly greater epic, always something before the described events, unless we are to start every story with "BANG! Expand! Sssss...," then itemize the whole subsequent history of the universe before settl.. | contexxt ending endings stories | Iain M. Banks | |
| 26be6bd | Besides, it left the humans in the Culture free to take care of the things that really mattered in life, such as sports, games, romance, studying dead languages, barbarian societies and impossible problems, and climbing high mountains without the aid of a safety harness. | Iain M. Banks | ||
| 455dd41 | You been mud wrestling..?' 'Only with my conscience.' 'Really? Who won?' 'Well, it was one of those rare occasions when violence really doesn't solve anything. | Iain M. Banks | ||
| f0208a0 | But just because something does not have an ending doesn't mean it doesn't have a conclusion. | Iain M. Banks | ||
| d49de31 | Happily, I am not human, Parinherm thought, and this is only a simulation. | Iain M. Banks | ||
| 5278266 | Us with our busy, busy little lives, finding no better way to pass our years than in competitive disdain. | Iain M. Banks | ||
| 22d4770 | I once visited a place where they killed people by putting them in a chair. Not torture -- that was common enough; beds and chairs were very much the par when it came to getting people helpless and confined, to inflict pain upon them -- but actually set it up to kill them while they sat. They -- get this -- they either gassed them or they passed very high electric currents through them. A pellet dropped into a container beneath the seat, li.. | sarcasm | Iain M. Banks | |
| 989942b | That is the way with all of your kind... It is how you are made; you must all strive to claw your way over the backs of your fellow humans during the short time you are permitted in the universe, breeding when you can, so that the strongest strain survive and the weakest die. I would no more blame you for that than I would try to convert some non-sentient carnivore to vegetarianism. You are all on your own side. | Iain M. Banks | ||
| dca16a2 | In short, if we wish to see anything sensible done about the situation we will clearly have to do it ourselves. | Patricia C. Wrede |