1
2
3
5
8
12
20
33
52
83
133
213
340
543
867
1384
2208
3346
3522
4379
4380
4381
4382
4383
5443
5619
6757
7581
8098
8422
8625
8752
8832
8882
8913
8932
8945
8953
8957
8960
8962
8963
8964
8965
▲
▼
| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 8865b63 | There is no discussing theology, sociology and politics when someone is under the spell of a self-enclosed totalitarian ideology. Intentionally or out of ignorance, Ahmed, who is empirical in all matters, detests pointless and laborious philosophical imaginings, never-ending discussions, or clashes of ideas that might be respectful of non-believer opponents and sinners deserving only of complete contempt. | Elie Wiesel | ||
| 8447744 | Thoughts arise in the hostage's tormented brain. In the hospital, patients feel they are returning to childhood; in prison, they age. The gods blind themselves. | Elie Wiesel | ||
| aa4e6a8 | I remember a young Hungarian Jew, his shoulders stooped like an old man's, who confessed to some infraction so as to be beaten in his uncle's stead. "I am young", he said, "and stronger than he." He was young but no less weak. He did not survive the beating" | holocaust | Elie Wiesel | |
| 680108b | Night is purer than day; it is better for thinking and loving and dreaming. At night everything is more intense, more true. The echo of words that have been spoken during the day takes on a new and deeper meaning. | Elie Wiesel | ||
| d97708b | A mn ages hs enemy because he hates his own hate. He says to himself: I hate him not because he's my enemy, not because he hates me, but because he arouses me to hate. | Elie Wiesel | ||
| 3ab5b09 | This was it; the end of the road. A silent death, suffocation. No way to scream, to call for help. | Elie Wiesel | ||
| 59b6c7b | Even if I wrote on nothing else, it would never be enough, even if all the survivors did nothing but write about their experiences, it would still not be enough. *Response when asked how much longer is he going to write about the Holocaust | surviving | Elie Wiesel | |
| 715f03c | Faster! Faster! Move, you lazy good-for-nothings!" the Hungarian police were screaming. That was when I began to hate them, and my hatred remains our only link today. They were our first oppressors. They were the first faces of hell and death." | ghetto holocaust hungarian-police | Elie Wiesel | |
| 93fb936 | What is the difference between Jew and Christians? We all await the Messiah. You believe He has already come and gone, while we do not. I therefore propose that we await Him together. And when He appears, we can ask Him: were You here before? | jew | Elie Wiesel | |
| 30612d5 | My hands were aching, I was clenching them so hard. To strangle the doctor and the others! To set the whole world on fire! My father's murderers! But even the cry stuck in my throat. | Elie Wiesel | ||
| 923d5b1 | It was a destructive novel of acquired ideas. To finally wake up in a state of creative anguish, to lose oneself in order to find oneself again, to sleep in the arms of a beautiful student whose name one didn't know, to fall back to sleep over a love poem-that was called existence. The harmonics of artistic creation, of fertile sensibility, of anticipated events-history in movement-that was called a privilege. | Elie Wiesel | ||
| 7657116 | YOM KIPPUR. The Day of Atonement. Should we fast? The question was hotly debated. To fast could mean a more certain, more rapid death. In this place, we were always fasting. It was Yom Kippur year-round. But there were those who said we should fast, precisely because it was dangerous to do so. We needed to show God that even here, locked in hell, we were capable of singing His praises. I | Elie Wiesel | ||
| 1875815 | Bearing witness takes the courage to realize the potential of the human spirit. Witnessing requires us to call forth the highest qualities of our species, qualities such as conviction, integrity, empathy, and compassion. It is easier by far to retain the attributes of carnistic culture: apathy, complacency, self-interest, and "blissful" ignorance. I wrote this book--itself an act of witnessing--because I believe that, as humans, we have a f.. | Melanie Joy | ||
| 70e5d62 | Tragedy always moves our story forward in a way shalom could never accomplish. | healing shalom true-self | Dan B. Allender | |
| 0941e96 | So we grow up in a sea of stories told in a way that fits what we want others to know about us. The stories told in most families are a kind of propaganda. The tragedy is that often these stories are simply a form of dis-information... But our families name us without knowing the consequences. So our life is a journey to discover our true name, though; sadly many of us never choose to begin that search. | true-self | Dan B. Allender | |
| 48fed48 | God is not bound by time, nor is our story. We desperately want our situation to be solved. We want resolution. But, God unfolds the plot in His own time. It is in our months or years of waiting that our story comes to maturity. It is over a lifetime of stories that he turns our desire toward Him. | healing waiting | Dan B. Allender | |
| 8e2ddf6 | A denouement is not a complete or fully resolved ending but a satisfying closure to a story. [in French translates 'an untying, a relaxing of a knot of complexity'] Denouement is the rest that comes when all the disparate plot lines of a story, gnarled and taut, have been untied and an order has come about that brings a new moment of shalom. | healing shalom | Dan B. Allender | |
| 66ddb2c | If we enter our story in heartache, we will hear the whisper of the name that will one day be ours. | grief healing lament true-self | Dan B. Allender | |
| 0221783 | Because of the way God has made us, it is impossible finally and completely to deaden the soul. The soul will resurrect, in spite of the cruelty used to destroy it. It will pop up and then be slain again, return and be shoved down through contempt. The power to destroy the soul is not in the hands of Satan, another human being, or even oneself. Nevertheless, when we manage to deaden our soul, even temporarily, we open the door to terrible c.. | Dan B. Allender | ||
| 8226186 | It is not presumptuous to ask, 'What is it that you see in me that brings you delight? | Dan B. Allender | ||
| 341b529 | Hope is not mere optimism; rather, it is moving forward in anticipation of redemption in spite of the improbability of rescue. | Dan B. Allender | ||
| ad7d408 | People think love is an emotion. Love is good sense. --Ken Kesey Unless you love someone, nothing else makes any sense. --e. e. cummings | Sue Johnson | ||
| 38d2893 | I realized Jack [Kerouac] was deeply committed to writing. Kesey was just as deeply committed to living and experiencing the lives of others; for him writing was just a part of living. | jack-kerouac ken-kesey writing | Sterling Lord | |
| 7e2c4fc | Meg kell neked is erteni, hogy amint valaki a masiknak a segitsegere siet, maga fedezetlen marad. | Ken Kesey | ||
| 801ce2e | Senki se egy nagy csoda, es megis az van, hogy mindenki a masik ragasaval-szapulasaval tolti a java eletet. | Ken Kesey | ||
| 64f70ab | and if I don't have her to where she don't know whether to shit or go blind, the bet is yours. | Ken Kesey | ||
| e959cf4 | It's like... that big red hand of McMurphy's is reaching into the fog and dropping down and dragging the men up by their hands, dragging them blinking into the open. First one, then another, then the next. Right on down the line of Acutes, dragging them out of the fog till there they stand, all twenty of them, raising not just for watching TV, but against the Big Nurse, against her trying to send McMurphy to Disturbed, against the way she's.. | hands voting | Ken Kesey | |
| 34808e6 | Out along the dim six-o'clock street, I saw leafless trees standing, striking the sidewalk there like wooden lightning, concrete split apart where they hit, all in a fenced-in ring. An iron line of pickets stuck out of the ground along the front of a tangleweed yard, and on back was a big frame house with a porch, leaning a rickety shoulder hard into the wind so's not to be sent tumbling away a couple of blocks like an empty cardboard groce.. | old-houses ruins | Ken Kesey | |
| 51faa35 | As the curtain closed, as the echoes stood up to leave: He wouldn't of done it for any other reason--he didn't want to have anybody to have to take the risk just for--I guess not, old fellow, because there wasn't anybody but him left--He did it because--I guess not--because everybody left and he knows he can't run them logs down by himself--He did it because . . . he finally saw how it was . . . because . . . he finally saw that there wasn'.. | Ken Kesey | ||
| 30c2894 | But like always when I try to place my thoughts in the past and hide there, the fear close at hand seeps in through the memory. | Ken Kesey | ||
| ed8842f | Tudja, hogy az embernek nevetni kell a fajo dolgokat, mert maskepp oda az ep esz, es az oruletbe hajtja az embert a vilag. | Ken Kesey | ||
| 2e6cc27 | Eccentrics with unseeing eyes glided through, savouring amid so much society their own particular loneliness and private sins and sorrows. | eccentrics iris-murdoch loneliness sins society sorrows the-green-knight | Iris Murdoch | |
| f5e4cc9 | I was wondering if the scene in the drawing-room had been a triumph or a disaster or merely a chaotic piece of bad taste verging on bathos, but I reflected that the only important question was whether I had communicated my message to my parents. I continued to smoke my cigarette and occasionally I shuddered. I wondered dimly how anyone ever survived their families. | Susan Howatch | ||
| c9b0e2d | My first recommendation...will be that you should have a holiday. You are worn out by all your unhappiness. | Susan Howatch | ||
| 9f04bd1 | and daughters who are so hopeless at doing the done thing and sticking to the rules are automatically paralyzed with guilt whenever they come within fifty yards of a mother like Margaret. | Susan Howatch | ||
| 7947b14 | You have here a parable, the subject of which might be called The Persistence of Truth ... Whatever fears, adversities, or doubts assail you, go forward calmly in the knowledge that the truth persists, and will prove itself in persisting. Though prayer be hard, though your soul walk in darkness, though your spiritual memories be shadowed by many a doubt, go forward secure in the knowledge that the truth of God endureth to all generations, a.. | Susan Howatch | ||
| 9070583 | Like your kind/ we usually destroy what we cannot understand | Dan Simmons | ||
| d79a3c7 | All I knew that night was that I believed in something and couldn't express it, while your team believed in nothing but knew how to say it--in other men's words. | Mary McCarthy | ||
| 346451f | I felt caught in a dilemma that was new to me then but which since has become horribly familiar: the trap of adult life, in which you are held, wriggling, powerless to act because you can see both sides. On that occasion, as generally in the future, I compromised. | Mary McCarthy | ||
| a7fb4bd | He was a thoroughly bad hat, then, but that was the kind, of course, that nice women broke their hearts over. | Mary McCarthy | ||
| 7516f2f | It came to her that he was going to leave without making love to her. This would mean they had made love for the last time this morning. But that did not count: this morning they did not know it was for the last time. When the door shut behind him, she still could not believe it. "It can't end like this," she said to herself over and over, drumming with her knuckles on her mouth to keep from screaming." | Mary McCarthy | ||
| 9db34a2 | She felt really quite unequal to the tedious process of reconciliation which, in view of the fact that she was sorry, seemed to her highly unnecessary, like some legal routine or the difficulty of getting passports. Her interest in expiation quickly vanished in the face of its actuality. | Mary McCarthy | ||
| ee80135 | He would have been far more attractive to her if she could have trusted him. You could not love a man who was always playing hide-and-seek with you; that was the lesson she had learned. | Mary McCarthy | ||
| 0ed1385 | His flexible mind extended to take in his opponent's position and then snapped back like an elastic, with the illusion that it had covered ground. | Mary McCarthy |