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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 04d44bc | Did this mean if I told May about T. Ray's mounds of grits, his dozens of small cruelties, about my killing my mother--that hearing it, she would feel everything I did? I wanted to know what happened when two people felt it. Would it divide the hurt in two, make it lighter to bear, the way feeling someone's joy seemed to double it? | Sue Monk Kidd | ||
| 726598a | Yet I remember the rule I set for myself-that I do something different from my mother. . . I started to believe I couldn't really do that if I was following in the path of either of my parents... That so-called rule helped me separate more fully from my mother and father, I realize, but maybe it also kept me from seeing what was right in front of me. | Sue Monk Kidd & Ann Kidd Taylor | ||
| 9d2dedf | I learned how easy it is to give up and become draperies while everyone else is dancing. | Sue Monk Kidd | ||
| 01c6454 | Readiness for dying arrives by attending the smallest moment and finding the eternal inside of it. | Sue Monk Kidd | ||
| 94dc215 | This is what I know about myself. She was all I wanted. And I took her away. | the-secret-life-of-bees | Sue Monk Kidd | |
| 780f03e | She used to say, you got to figure out which end of the needle you're gon be, the one that's fastened to the thread or the end that pierces the cloth. | Sue Monk Kidd | ||
| 9f71d7b | I wonder if that's the perennial story of writers: you find the true light, you lose the true light, you find it again. And maybe again. | Sue Monk Kidd | ||
| c5222ac | You come from your mauma, you sleep in the bed with her till you're near twenty years grown, and you still don't know what haunches in the dark corners of her. | mothers secrets | Sue Monk Kidd | |
| 9e35edb | She couldn't get free and she couldn't pop missus on the back of her head with a cane, but she could take her silk. You do your rebellions any way you can. | Sue Monk Kidd | ||
| c3d34e0 | God fills us with all sorts of yearnings that go against the grain of the world--but the fact those yearnings often come to nothing, well, I doubt that's God's doing." She cut her eyes at me and smiled. "I think we know that's men's doing." She leaned toward me. "Life is arranged against us, Sarah. And it's brutally worse for Handful and her mother and sister. We're all yearning for a wedge of sky, aren't we? I suspect God plants these year.. | Sue Monk Kidd | ||
| d0a974b | Up until then I'd thought that white people and colored people getting along was the big aim, but after that I decided everybody being colorless together was a better plan. | Sue Monk Kidd | ||
| f88b4c8 | She was wet with my crying. Up around her collar the cotton of her dress was plastered to her skin. I could see her darkness shining through the wet places. She was like a sponge, absorbing what I couldn't hold anymore. | Sue Monk Kidd | ||
| 24650b7 | A worker bee is just over a centimeter long and weighs only about sixty milligrams; nevertheless, she can fly with a load heavier than herself. | Sue Monk Kidd | ||
| 21dd3a0 | We walked to the woods beside the pink house with her stories still pulled soft around our shoulders. I could feel them touching me in places, like an actual shawl. | Sue Monk Kidd | ||
| 7a478c8 | What a weary way since that first disaster, what nerves torn from the heart of insentience, with the appertaining terror and the cerebellum on fire. It took him a long time to adapt himself to this excoriation. | Samuel Beckett | ||
| de2b860 | The blue face! The obscene protrusion of the tongue! The tumefaction of the penis! The penis, well now, that's a surprise, I'd forgotten I had one. What a pity I have no arms, there might still be something to be wrung from it. No, 'tis better thus. At my age, to start manstuprating again, it would be indecent. And fruitless. And yet one can never tell. With a yo heave yo, concentrating with all my might on a horse's rump, at the moment whe.. | Samuel Beckett | ||
| cb6ddc5 | Estragon: I remember the maps of the Holy Land. Coloured they were. Very pretty. The Dead Sea was pale blue. The very look of it made me thirsty. That's where we'll go, I used to say, that's where we'll go for our honeymoon. We'll swim. We'll be happy. | loneliness love waiting-for-godot samuel-beckett | Samuel Beckett | |
| a3154e5 | But all this was nothing compared to the face which I regret to say vaguely resembled my own, less the refinement of course, same little abortive moustache, same little ferrety eyes, same paraphimosis of the nose, and a thin red mouth that looked as if it was raw from trying to shit its tongue. | Samuel Beckett | ||
| 0c3b086 | And for what I have done ill and for what I have done well and for what I have left undone, I ask you to forgive me. And I ask you to think of me always--bugger these buttons--with forgiveness, as you desire to be thought of with forgiveness, though personally of course it is all the same to me whether I am thought of with forgiveness, or with rancour, or not at all. Good night. | Samuel Beckett | ||
| 50f201a | Clov: Why this farce, day after day? Hamm: Routine. One never knows. [Pause.] Last night I saw inside my breast. There was a big sore. Clov: Pah! You saw your heart. Hamm: No, it was living. [Pause. Anguished.] Clov! Clov: Yes. Hamm: What's happening? Clov: Something is taking its course. [Pause.] Hamm: Clov! Clov: [impatiently] What is it? Hamm: We're not beginning to ... to ... mean something? Clov: Mean something! You and I, me.. | Samuel Beckett | ||
| f62078c | What I liked in anthropology was its inexhaustible faculty of negation, its relentless definition of man, as though he were no better than God, in terms of what he is not. But my ideas on this subject were always horribly confused, for my knowledge of men was scant and the meaning of being beyond me. | Samuel Beckett | ||
| c7f35da | The turmoil of the day freezes in a thousand absurd postures. | Samuel Beckett | ||
| de6a3fd | Let's hang ourselves immediately! | Samuel Beckett | ||
| abe3ba4 | It was a strange room, the door hanging off its hinges, and yet a telephone. But its last occupant was a harlot, long past her best, which had been scarlet. | Samuel Beckett | ||
| f830652 | The little cloud drifting before their glorious sun will darken the earth as long as I please. | Samuel Beckett | ||
| 3b5e728 | boechy hychkht | Samuel Beckett | ||
| 131a59c | Her mind was a press of formless questions, mingling and crumbling limply away. | Samuel Beckett | ||
| 355b72c | In reality I said nothing at all, but I heard a murmur, something gone wrong with the silence, and I pricked up my ears, like an animal I imagine, which gives a start and pretends to be dead. | Samuel Beckett | ||
| b4b77e7 | I was mad of course and still am, but harmless, I passed for harmless, that's a good one. Not of course that I was really mad, just strange, a little strange, and with every passing year a little stranger, there can be few stranger creatures going about than me at the present day. | mad strange | Samuel Beckett | |
| cc218eb | That movements of an extreme complexity were taking place seemed certain, and yet what a simple thing it seemed, that vast yellow light sailing slowly behind my bars and which little by little the dense wall devoured, and finally eclipsed. And now its tranquil course was written on the walls, a radiance scored with shadow, then a brief quivering of leaves, if they were leaves, then that too went out, leaving me in the dark. How | Samuel Beckett | ||
| 14689fb | Name, no, nothing is nameable, tell, no, nothing can be told, what then, I don't know, I shouldn't have begun. | Samuel Beckett | ||
| 6abddac | Seen no matter how and said as seen. Dread of black. Of white. Of void. Let her vanish. And the rest. For good. | moving-on love reflection | Samuel Beckett | |
| 0c4cb4a | Is there then no hope? Good gracious, no, heavens, what an idea! Just a faint one perhaps, but which will never serve. But one forgets. | Samuel Beckett | ||
| bb49dc4 | In other words, or perhaps another thing, whatever I said it was never enough and always too much. | Samuel Beckett | ||
| 2c65515 | For in me there have always been two fools, among others, one asking nothing better than to stay where he is and the other imagining that life might be slightly less horrible a little further on. So that I was never disappointed, so to speak, whatever I did, in this domain. And these inseparable fools I indulged turn about, that they might understand their foolishness. | life change-your-life foolishness | Samuel Beckett | |
| 2bdaf2c | You think you are simply resting, the better to act when the time comes, or for no reason, and you soon find yourself powerless ever to do anything again. | Samuel Beckett | ||
| 1788be0 | There at least is a first affirmation, I mean negation, on which to build. | Samuel Beckett | ||
| aa31c81 | astern receding land of brothers dimming lights mountain if I turn water roughening he falls I fall on my knees crawl forward clink of chains perhaps it's not me perhaps it's another perhaps it's another voyage confusion with another what isle what moon you say the thing you see the thoughts sometimes that go with it it disappears the voice goes on a few words it can stop it can go on depending on what it's not known it's not said | Samuel Beckett | ||
| 78beb26 | nwld jmy` mjnyn. wyZl lb`D kdhlk | Samuel Beckett | ||
| a0086d0 | Perhaps after all she put me in her rectum. A matter of complete indifference to me, I needn't tell you. But is it true love, in the rectum? That's what bothers me sometimes. Have I never known true love, after all? | true-love love | Samuel Beckett | |
| cb67bb4 | And I am perhaps confusing several different occasions, and different times, deep down, and deep down is my dwelling, oh not deepest down, somewhere between the mud and the scum. | Samuel Beckett | ||
| 7bb9907 | White world, great trouble, not a sound, only the embers, sound of dying, dying glow | Samuel Beckett | ||
| a3cfd41 | Weary with my weariness, white last moon, sole regret, not even. To be dead, before her, on her, with her, and turn, dead on dead, about poor mankind, and never have to die anymore, from among the living. Not even, not even that. My moon was here below, far below, the little I was able to desire. And one day, soon, soon, one earthlit night, beneath the earth, a dying being will say, like me, in the earthlight, Not even, not even that, and d.. | Samuel Beckett | ||
| 2095840 | HAMM Open the window. CLOV What for? HAMM I want to hear the sea. CLOV You wouldn't hear it. HAMM Even if you opened the window? CLOV No. HAMM Then it's not worth opening it? CLOV No. HAMM(violently) Then open it! | Samuel Beckett |