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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| d155b72 | Harry just blinked and shook his head, bewildered, and went with the flow. Sara looked at her son, her only child, with a tangible earnestness, the grin and grinding gone, replaced with a plea that softened her eyes and calmed her voice, Its not the prizes Harry. It doesn't make any difference if I win or lose or if I just shake hands with the announcer. Its like a reason to get up in the morning. | Hubert Selby Jr. | ||
| 1784680 | She felt her most recent lovers lay like dumb victims along her thighs. | Henry H. Roth | ||
| 84e5577 | Bruised, she spent the night with him; bruised, too, he held her as close as he could. It was all done, promised, and decided on. | Henry H. Roth | ||
| 037ec1e | Music pierces the sky. | Charles Baudelaire | ||
| fb0cafd | I'm not saying that the world will be reduced to expedient means and ridiculous disorder of the South American republics, - that we could maybe even return to savagery, and walk through the overgrown ruins of our civilization searching for food with a gun in our hand. No; - because such a destiny and such adventures would still presuppose a vital energy, an echo of primeval ages. As the new example and the new victims of inexorable moral la.. | Charles Baudelaire | ||
| a9cef2a | Thanks be to God, Who gives us suffering as sacred remedy for all our sins, that best and purest essence which prepares the strong in spirit for divine delights! | suffering | Charles Baudelaire | |
| 9f4d29b | He whose thoughts, like skylarks, Toward the morning sky take flight --Who hovers over life and understands with ease The language of flowers and silent things! | Charles Baudelaire | ||
| 4afcc36 | The heart contains passion but the imagination alone contains poetry,' says Charles Baudelaire. This too was the lesson that Theophile Gautier, most subtle of all modern critics, most fascinating of all modern poets, was never tired of teaching - 'Everybody is affected by a sunrise or a sunset.' The absolute distinction of the artist is not his capacity to feel nature so much as his power of rendering it. The entire subordination of all int.. | Oscar Wilde | ||
| f8a6b7c | Mais qu'importe l'eternite de la damnation a qui a trouve dans une seconde l'infini de la jouissance! | Charles Baudelaire | ||
| 329063c | Celui qui regarde du dehors a travers une fenetre ouverte, ne voit jamais autant de choses que celui qui regarde une fenetre fermee. | Charles Baudelaire | ||
| 8c13c9d | Do you come from Heaven or rise from the abyss, Beauty? | Charles Baudelaire | ||
| 545c11d | Spleen Je suis comme le roi d'un pays pluvieux, Riche, mais impuissant, jeune et pourtant tres vieux, Qui, de ses precepteurs meprisant les courbettes, S'ennuie avec ses chiens comme avec d'autres betes. Rien ne peut l'egayer, ni gibier, ni faucon, Ni son peuple mourant en face du balcon. Du bouffon favori la grotesque ballade Ne distrait plus le front de ce cruel malade; Son lit fleurdelise se transforme en tombeau, Et les dames d'atour, p.. | king spleen | Charles Baudelaire | |
| 314fb29 | Late night, and like a medal in the sky The harvest moon was beaming down, And, like a river, the solemnity Of night arranged on the sleeping town. - | moonlight | Charles Baudelaire | |
| 483f1b8 | Iste onlar gibi biri, Venus heykelinin altligina buzulmus, olumsuz tanricaya bakip gozyaslari dokuyor... Gel gor ki insafsiz Venus, uzaklara bilmedigim bir seylere bakiyor mermer gozleriyle. | Charles Baudelaire | ||
| f2d8151 | Or poking through a house, in closets shut for years, Full of the scent of time - acrid, musky, dank, One comes, perhaps, upon a flask of memories In whose escaping scent a soul returns to life. - | reminiscence scent | Charles Baudelaire | |
| 4687aff | A cada minuto nos sentimos aplastados por la idea y la sensacion del tiempo. Y no hay mas que dos recursos para escapar a esa pesadilla, para olvidarla: el placer y el trabajo. El placer nos gasta. El trabajo nos fortifica. Elijamos | spleen tedio tiempo trabajo | Charles Baudelaire | |
| e7c8910 | evening harmony behold the times when trembling on their stems the flowers evaporate like thuribles the sounds and scents turn in the evening cool; sad waltz, languid intoxication! the flowers evaporate like thuribles the viol quivers like a heart that's torn sad waltz, languid intoxication! the sky is sad like some memorial. the viol quivers like a heart that's torn a heart that hates the void perpetual! the sky is sad like some memorial .. | evening-harmony memory smells | Charles Baudelaire | |
| 4c306e4 | Do you know why I have so patiently translated Poe? Because he resembled me. The first time I opened one of his books, I saw with terror and rapture subjects dreamed by me and described by him, twenty years earlier. CHARLES BAUDELAIRE | Otto Rahn | ||
| 7fd8b46 | Les amants des prostituees Sont heureux, dispos et repus; Quant a moi, mes bras sont rompus Pour avoir etreint des nuees. | Charles Baudelaire | ||
| c6a582c | The most successful people in the most impossible situations are the ones that are sure they're gonna get out of it, and they go on thinking that, even if they die trying. | strength struggle | Lori Lansens | |
| 1cc6d7c | I can't exactly say why I've chosen to write about the things that I am writing about. There are doubtless better stories from my life that I am missing, events and escapades I am not wise enough to know were important. If heaven is tolerant and writers are allowed (bunch of liars that they are), I wonder if they gather for coffee to ponder the prose they should have written instead. | Lori Lansens | ||
| 44b6335 | I would not have dreamed back then, could never have imagined, that one day I would be a childless mother too. | Lori Lansens | ||
| 30c55ee | Funny how you can measure time by pets that were not even your own. | Lori Lansens | ||
| b6ba145 | Regrets. Sure you think about regrets, but it's not regret for the things you've done that occupy you, as much as it is a longing for the things you'll never have a chance to do. | Lori Lansens | ||
| 7370a8d | Regrets serve their purpose. You'll see. | regrets | Lori Lansens | |
| 15f72ae | Everyone plays for someone, and Kris didn't play for the big dogs like Sabbath and Zep, she didn't play for the ones who made it, for the wizards who figured out how to turn their music into cars and cash and mansions and an endless party where no one ever gets old. She played for the losers. She played for the bands who never met their rainmaker, the musicians who drank too much and made all the wrong decisions. The singers who got shipped.. | Grady Hendrix | ||
| cf73ad2 | Our mother performed in starlight. | Karen Russell | ||
| 897de53 | On the fifth night of our search, I see a plesiosaur. It is a megawatt behemoth, bronze and blue-white, streaking across the sea floor like a torpid comet. Watching it, I get this primordial deja vu, like I'm watching a dream return to my body. It wings towards me with a slow, avian grace. Its long neck is arced in an S-shaped curve; its lizard body is the size of Granana's carport. Each of its ghost flippers pinwheels colored light. I try .. | Karen Russell | ||
| 6ad570a | I look for my sister but it's hopeless. The goggles are all fogged up. Every fish burns lantern-bright, and I can't tell the living from the dead. It's all just blurry light, light smeared like some celestial fingerprint all over the rocks and the reef and the sunken garbage. Olivia could be everywhere. | loss sisters | Karen Russell | |
| 288c0b1 | I swim with all my strength. No superhuman surge, or pony heroics; it's just me at my most desperate. | karen-russell | Karen Russell | |
| 58073e7 | Dracula shows his fangs, and the Okie flees through a cornfield. Cornstalks smack her face. "Help!" she screams to a sky full of crows. "He's not actually from Europe!" | Karen Russell | ||
| 2b05094 | I often think, that she foresaw only the end times, never hot dogs. | Karen Russell | ||
| 9d5d683 | What are you grinning at?' Nal muttered. As if in response, the gull spread its wings and opened its shadow over the miniature ruins of the castle - too huge, Nal thought, and vaguely humanoid in shape - and then it flew off, laboring heavily against the wind. In the soft moonlight this created the disturbing illusion that the bird had hitched itself to Nal's shadow and was pulling his darkness from him. | women-authors | Karen Russell | |
| 32656c5 | We sang at the chapel annexed to the home every morning. We understood that this was the humans' moon, the place for howling beyond purpose. Not for mating, not for hunting, not for fighting, not for anything but the sound itself. And we'd howl along with the choir, hurling every pitted thing within us at the stained glass. | karen-russell st-lucys-home | Karen Russell | |
| b4ce5fa | I stood with my arms stretched wide and trembling, and I felt as if the black sky was my body and I felt as if the white moon, far above me, unwrinkled and shining, was my mind. | Karen Russell | ||
| 3f2171e | She used to suffer these intense bouts of homesickness in her own bedroom. When she was very small, she would wake up tearing at her bedspread and shrieking, "I wanna go home! I wanna go home!" Which was distressing to all of us, of course, because she was home." | Karen Russell | ||
| cb75607 | Incomes will become more unequal within jurisdictions and more equal between them. | James Dale Davidson | ||
| 78a3ce5 | Governments will ultimately have little choice but to treat populations in territories they serve more like customers, and less in the easy that organized criminals treat the victims of a shakedown racket. | James Dale Davidson | ||
| b6041a2 | Facing the sagging middle when writing a novel, while inevitable, may be overcome by pre-planning. I divide my collection of proposed scenes into three acts, each scene inciting tension that builds toward the final crisis in Act Three. If by Act Two the emotional river isn't spilling over the banks, I reassess the plot so that once the writing is flowing I don't slide into a dry creek. The central character should be struggling to navigate.. | outer-banks southern-fiction southern-writers | Patricia Hickman | |
| 325512a | They wonder what is wrong with our country, but isn't it fairly obvious that if children are being treated like animals instead of rational beings, as adults they'll respond like monkeys? | Wen Spencer | ||
| d26bc5e | Honor isn't about other people, it's about what you want to be," Louise said. "A hero does the good and noble thing. The villain allows fear or envy or selfishness to let him ignore what is right." | Wen Spencer | ||
| d8c6750 | Hate has always been the blinder used by those who own slaves. It allows those they enslave to only see those who escaped the yoke, and not the one that sits holding the reins. The moment you hear anyone fear-mongering and pointing fingers, you should look for the shackle on your ankle." "Don't" | Wen Spencer | ||
| 9fd67c8 | If only her problems were as simple as dealing with a handful of townspeople with pitchforks... | Wen Spencer | ||
| 2679daf | She's surprisingly destructive for her size." "That's part of her appeal," | Wen Spencer |