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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 1aa1b9e | After much reflection on the political and sociological aspects of the table, I have realized that I am completely uninterested in food. My preference is for fodder that is cheap, quick and simple to procure and prepare, whilst providing the requisite nutrients to enable a person to stay alive. | Gail Honeyman | ||
| 10e6955 | I stared at the floor, my mind racing. Did I . . . did I look like the kind of person who ought to be avoided in a game of bus seat selection? I could only conclude, in the face of the evidence, that I did. But why? I would have to reason my way to the answer. I wasn't overweight. I didn't smell--I showered daily, and I laundered my clothes regularly. That left madness, then. Was I mad? No. No, I wasn't. I was suffering from clinical depres.. | Gail Honeyman | ||
| e9a1ae7 | and I'd lift off and blow away, like one of those seeds in a dandelion clock. | Gail Honeyman | ||
| 1e8a170 | nebulous and milky, like light from an old, old star. | Gail Honeyman | ||
| f98f0da | Eyelids are really just flesh curtains. | Gail Honeyman | ||
| 3d7bf0e | JANE: What to do when it is that time in your girl child's life: 1. Sit down calmly and explain sex to her? 2. Buy her a book, video, or CD that gives her the details? 3. Buy her condoms and put her on the pill? Or do as many mothers before you did--just stick your head in the sand and hope she joins a convent. Of course these days your child may know more about sex than you did at her age, what with in-school health lessons, and out-of-sch.. | Jane Yolen | ||
| 00552ec | Even her powders and face paint couldn't disguise the age lines and gripe lines that ran as deep as the railway tracks some said were bound to cross our mountain any day so. | Jane Yolen | ||
| 7b3664d | I do not know where I am going or what I will do when I get there. I know only that to put one foot in front of the other, moves me on, away from you to a place, where I do not want to be. | Jane Yolen | ||
| 13f4862 | The great archetypal stories provide a framework or model for an individual's belief system. They are, in Isak Dinesen's marvelous expression, 'a serious statement of our existence.' The stories and tales handed down to us from the cultures that proceded us were the most serious, succinct expressions of the accumulated wisdom of those cultures. They were created in a symbolic, metaphoric story language and then hones by centuries of tongue-.. | Jane Yolen | ||
| 33c5cf7 | Papa wasn't like them, with lines like cursive writing up and down their faces. | Jane Yolen | ||
| f737913 | Come, Ye Women Oh, come, ye women of the Isles, And listen to my song, For if ye be but thirteen years, Ye've not been women long. And if ye be threescore and ten, No longer women be, Or so say all the merry men Who count so cruel-ly. But women we be from our birth, And will be till we die. Our counte is made so differently To give the men that lie. Oh, come, ye women of the Isles, And listen to my song, For we be women all through life, Wh.. | Jane Yolen | ||
| b5cd4b9 | The only duty of the dreamer is to tell the truth about the dream. | dreams honesty truth writing | Jane Yolen | |
| 553ed85 | The others are all common mouths chattering, empty heads like wooden whistles blowing common tunes. | Jane Yolen | ||
| 5ff309f | Tesch seems to be someone who mistakes rudeness for intellectual rigor. | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| 3a2e5fc | There was another problem with Emma's father, difficult for a small child who already thought of herself as greedy - his way of trying to keep her attention, to bribe her, with gifts. On each vof her visits, he would appear with you presents, beautifully wrapped> And her confusion that she liked - and wanted - the presents, but not the man, was painful. He used 'sparkly Sellotape' and cut things into nice shapes and she wistfully writes: | confusion emotional-neglect emotional-pain mixed-messages | Carol Lee | |
| 976c53b | CEOs face this choice all the time. Should they confront their shortcomings or should they create a world where they have none? Lee Iacocca chose the latter. He surrounded himself with worshipers, exiled the critics--and quickly lost touch with where his field was going. Lee Iacocca had become a nonlearner. | Carol S. Dweck | ||
| 537e6fd | It reminds me of those carefree days in elementary school," Adam said, taking a sop of milk. "Where the only thing you worried about was being first on the swings, or being picked last for kickball." | Jahnna N. Malcolm | ||
| 71c156c | Seduction involves elements of grace, class and elegance. It is an art and a gift, for both seducer and the seduced." - Andre Chevalier" | Nikki Sex | ||
| 9f08dfd | What happens next?" Miranda asks. It's easier to talk to Elizabeth when they're sitting side by side, when she doesn't have to look at her. "I don't know." "You do know." "I wish I could tell you how sorry I am," Elizabeth says, "but you've already told me to stop apologizing." "It's just an awful thing to do." "I don't think I'm an awful person," Elizabeth says. "No one ever thinks they're awful, even people who really actually are. It's s.. | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| c8d9a3a | There are thoughts of freedom and imminent escape. I could throw away almost everything, she thinks, and begin all over again. Station Eleven will be my constant. | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| 38e026a | No more pharmaceuticals. No more certainty of surviving a scratch on one's hand, a cut on a finger while chopping vegetables for dinner, a dog bite. | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| 08f8e5e | It's not a hometown, actually, it's a home island. "It's the same size and shape as Manhattan," Arthur tells people at parties all his life, "except with a thousand people." Delano Island is between Vancouver Island and mainland British Columbia, a straight shot north from Los Angeles. The island is all temperate rain forest and rocky beaches, deer breaking into vegetable gardens and leaping in front of windshields, moss on low-hanging bran.. | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| d93e17a | You told me you're trying to shed your possessions or something, right?" "Exactly. They're lovely, but I don't want more things." | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| 3a3a6da | I think people like him think work is supposed to be drudgery punctuated by very occasional moments of happiness, but when I say happiness, I mostly mean distraction. | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| aa502c9 | Ah," Tesch says. "Very admirable of you. You know, it reminds me of a documentary I saw last month, a little Czech film about an outsider artist who refused to show her work during her lifetime. She lived in Praha, and--" "Oh," Clark says, "I believe when you're speaking English, you're allowed to refer to it as Prague." Tesch appears to have lost the power of speech." | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| 34d9caf | The disorientation of meeting one's sagging contemporaries, memories of a younger face crashing into the reality of jowls, under-eye pouches, unexpected lines, and then the terrible realization that one probably looks just as old as they do. Do you remember when we were young and gorgeous? Clark wanted to ask. Do you remember when everything seemed limitless? | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| c44b4b7 | It occurred to her that this was what being caught might be like. The white-hot flash of recognition and then her life blown open, a radioactive mirror in a wasteland, her secretive life torn asunder and scattered outward in disarray. | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| 104993f | If hell is other people, what is a world with almost no people in it? | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| 4731688 | This one's my other favorite. 'He's successful in interfacing with clients we already have, but as for new clients, it's low-hanging fruit. He takes a high-altitude view, but he doesn't drill down to that level of granularity where we might actionize new opportunities.'" Clark winced. "I remember that one. I think I may have had a minor stroke in the office when he said that." | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| bab43e1 | I wanted to be her north star. I wanted to be her map. I wanted to drink coffee with her in the cafes in the morning and do things, as you do, as she did, instead of just philosophizing about them and deconstructing their endless Russian-doll layers of meaning. I was alone before I met her. I wanted to disappear with her, and fold her into my life. I wanted to be her compass. I wanted to be her last speaker, her interpreter, her language. I.. | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| 36bc547 | she's come to understand that clothes are armor | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| 468400d | It's an awful thing to be the target. | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| 7ed1fc6 | Do you remember when you were young and gorgeous? Clark wanted to ask. Do you remember when everything seemed limitless? | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| fb649ad | The beauty of this world where almost everyone was gone. If hell is other people, what is a world with almost no people in it? Perhaps soon humanity would simply flicker out, but Kristen found this thought more peaceful than sad. So many species had appeared and later vanished from this earth; what was one more? | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| 0e2f0b1 | The stillness of the water, the horizon framed by other glass towers and miniature boats drifting in the distance. | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| 6a64371 | I am heartless, she thinks, but she knows even through her guilt that this isn't true. She knows there are traps everywhere that can make her cry, she knows the way she dies a little every time someone asks her for change and she doesn't give it to them means that she's too soft for this world or perhaps just for this city, | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| f3f4332 | The first sentence of the assassin's note rang true: we were not meant for this world. I returned to my city, to my shattered life and damaged home, to my loneliness, and tried to forget the sweetness of life on Earth. | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| ed36112 | that people here see her as an eccentric, the actor's wife who inks mysterious cartoons that no one's ever laid eyes on--"My wife's very private about her work," Arthur says in interviews--and who doesn't drive and likes to go for long walks in a town where nobody walks anywhere and who has no friends except a Pomeranian, although does anyone really know this last part? She hopes not. Her friendlessness is never mentioned in gossip blogs, w.. | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| 465b23d | No, please elaborate." "Okay, say you go into the break room," she said, "and a couple people you like are there, say someone's telling a funny story, you laugh a little, you feel included, everyone's so funny, you go back to your desk with a sort of, I don't know, I guess afterglow would be the word? You go back to your desk with an afterglow, but then by four or five o'clock the day's just turned into yet another day, and you go on like t.. | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| a666d35 | This life was never ours," she whispers to the dog, who has been following her from room to room, and Luli wags her tail and stares at Miranda with wet brown eyes. "We were only ever borrowing it." | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| 90beda1 | Jeevan was crushed by a sudden certainty that this was it, that this illness that Hua was describing was going to be the divide between a before and an after, a line drawn through his life. p20 | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| b4b2dc2 | he had an idea--too sentimental to speak aloud and he knew none of his divorced friends would ever own up to it--that something must linger, a half-life of marriage, some sense memory of love even if obviously not the thing itself. He thought these people must mean something to one another, even if they didn't like one another anymore. Heller | Emily St. John Mandel | ||
| ae03a02 | The claustrophobia of the forest. The first few trees visible before her, monochrome contrasts of black shadow and white moonlight, and beyond that an entire continent, wilderness uninterrupted from ocean to ocean with so few people left between the shores. | end-of-the-world isolation | Emily St. John Mandel | |
| 58a8333 | She likes Hollywood best at night, in the quiet, when it's all dark leaves and shadows and night-blooming flowers, the edges softened, gently lit streets curving up into the hills. | Emily St. John Mandel |