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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| d605cd8 | And when my body shall cease, my soul will still be yours, Claire? I swear by my hope of heaven, I will not be parted from you." The wind stirred the leaves of the chestnut trees nearby, and the scents of late summer rose up rich around us; pine and grass and strawberries, sun-warmed stone and cool water, and the sharp, musky smell of his body next to mine. "Nothing is lost, Sassenach; only changed." "That's the first law of thermodynamics,.. | Diana Gabaldon | ||
| 6eccebe | And if he had judged her harshly? If her life were a simple rosary of hours, her life simple and strange as a bird's life, gay in the morning, restless all day, tired at sundown? Her heart simple and willful as a bird's heart? | women spirituality subjectivity | James Joyce | |
| 2a9dbdb | Again I take a taxi to Clichy address, but feel that I do not want to go on loving Henry more actively than he loves me (having realized that nobody will ever love me in that overabundant, overexpressive, overthoughtful, overhuman way I love people), and so I will wait for him. So I ask taxi driver to drop me at the Galeries Lafayette, where I begin to look for a new hat and to shop for Christmas. Pride? I don't know. A kind of wise retreat.. | Anaïs Nin | ||
| edb2156 | I can elect something I love and absorb myself in it. | writing | Anaïs Nin | |
| 3be4aab | Words," he said, "is oh such a twitch-tickling problem to me all my life." | Roald Dahl | ||
| 3d6120a | She did not shut it properly because she knew that it is very silly to shut oneself into a wardrobe, even if it is not a magic one. | C.S. Lewis | ||
| fc204e2 | And she never could remember; and ever since that day what Lucy means by a good story is a story which reminds her of the forgotten story in the Magician's Book. | magic | C.S. Lewis | |
| 21f880d | His library was a fine dark place bricked with books, so anything could happen there and always did. All you had to do was pull a book from the shelf and open it and suddenly the darkness was not so dark anymore. | words library | Ray Bradbury | |
| 24256aa | One moment the world is as it is. The next, it is something entirely different. Something it has never been before. | Anne Rice | ||
| 692773f | Hop in? Dude, are you out of your ever-loving mind? I can't touch this. I might leave a fingerprint or something. (Nick) Oh the horror. Guess I'll have to trade the piece of junk in and get a new one if that happens. (Acheron) | Sherrilyn Kenyon | ||
| aad2466 | You were just worried about me." An exhale, relieved that I'd understood. "Yeah." I turned. "Because you think I'm worth it." He put his fingers under my chin. "I absolutley think you're worth it." "But you don't think you are." His mouth opened. Shut. "That's what this is about, Derek. You won't let us worry about you because you don't think you're worth it. But I do. I absolutley do. I lifted onto my toes, put my hands around his neck, an.. | Kelley Armstrong | ||
| 43c02b6 | There are honest people in the world, but only because the devil considers their asking prices ridiculous. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| c87fb74 | hmyshh rwzhyy hst khh nsn dr an khsny r khh dwst dshth st, bygnh my ybd | Albert Camus | ||
| 6874b87 | Rebellion cannot exist without a strange form of love. | rebellion | Albert Camus | |
| 9c154dc | To remain silent in the face of evil is itself a form of evil. | Sue Monk Kidd | ||
| fcfbd85 | Estragon: People are bloody ignorant apes. | Samuel Beckett | ||
| 3b2e123 | There are gentle souls who would pronounce Lolita meaningless because it does not teach them anything. I am neither a reader nor a writer of didactic fiction...For me a work of fiction exists only insofar as it affords me what I shall bluntly call aesthetic bliss, that is a sense of being somehow, somewhere, connected with other states of being where art (curiosity, tenderness, kindness, ecstasy) is the norm. | Vladimir Nabokov | ||
| 3c093bf | Time interval is a strange and contradictory matter in the mind. It would be reasonable to suppose that a routine time or an eventless time would seem interminable. It should be so, but it is not. It is the dull eventless times that have no duration whatever. A time splashed with interest, wounded with tragedy, crevassed with joy - that's the time that seems long in the memory. And this is right when you think about it. Eventlessness has no.. | time | John Steinbeck | |
| e849914 | A man goes to knowledge as he goes to war: wide-awake, with fear, with respect, and with absolute assurance. Going to knowledge or going to war in any other manner is a mistake, and whoever makes it might never live to regret it | Carlos Castaneda | ||
| 7fc15b5 | Demetrius: Villain, what hast thou done? Aaron: That which thou canst not undo. Chiron: Thou hast undone our mother. Aaron: Villain, I have done thy mother. | yo-mamma-jokes | William Shakespeare | |
| 46f4be3 | My hands are of your color, but I shame to wear a heart so white. | William Shakespeare | ||
| c32b301 | Where in the bloody hell did that come from?" asks the other person behind the counter. Or more precisely, on top of the counter, where her ridiculously attractive, English-accented boyfriend is perched. He's the other thing I like about Anna. Wherever she goes, he follows. He nods toward the baby wipe. "What else are you carrying in your pockets? Dust rags? Furniture polish?" "Watch it," she says. "Or I'll scrub your arms, Etienne." He gri.. | etienne-st-clair | Stephanie Perkins | |
| ad3ae05 | History books are filled with lies. Whoever wins the war tells the story. | Stephanie Perkins | ||
| bfac4d3 | Gazzy called over to me "I can't see anything!" | maxride | James Patterson | |
| e97b421 | We're so quick to cut away pieces of ourselves to suit a particular relationship, a job, a circle of friends, incessantly editing who we are until we fit in. | self-editing | Charles de Lint | |
| aa7bb96 | She had lived her early years as though she were waiting for something she might, but never did, become. | Marguerite Duras | ||
| 637ce95 | Muchos anos despues, frente al peloton de fusilamiento, el coronel Aureliano Buendia habia de recordar aquella tarde remota en que su padre lo llevo a conocer el hielo. Macondo era entonces una aldea de 20 casas de barro y canabrava construidas a la orilla de un rio de aguas diafanas que se precipitaban por un lecho de piedras pulidas, blancas y enormes como huevos prehistoricos. El mundo era tan reciente, que muchas cosas carecian de nombr.. | Gabriel García Márquez | ||
| aa2e320 | As honest as you can expect a man to be in a world where its going out of style. | Raymond Chandler | ||
| 96f9720 | A fragrant breeze wandered up from the quiet sea, trailed along the beach, and drifted back to the sea again, wondering where to go next. On a mad impulse it went up to the beach again. It drifted back to sea. | Douglas Adams | ||
| ad57b9f | It would be the death of you to come with me, Sam," said Frodo, "and I could not have borne that." "Not as certain as being left behind," said Sam. "But I am going to Mordor." "I know that well enough, Mr. Frodo. Of course you are. And I'm coming with you." | samwise-gamgee | J.R.R. Tolkien | |
| 2d400db | This is love, I think. A place where people who have been alone may lock together like hawks and spin in the air, dizzy with surprise at the connection. A place you go willingly, and with wonder | romance love | Jodi Picoult | |
| 09f8b00 | Every life has a soundtrack. There is a tune that makes me think of the summer I spent rubbing baby oil on my stomach in pursuit of the perfect tan. There's another that reminds me of tagging along with my father on Sunday morning to pick up the There's the song that reminds me of using fake ID to get into a nightclub; and the one that brings back my cousin Isobel's sweet sixteen, where I played Seven Minutes in Heaven with a boy whose br.. | music | Jodi Picoult | |
| 8cf2068 | He said that if culture is a house, then language was the key to the front door; to all the rooms inside. Without it, he said, you ended up wayward, without a proper home or a legitimate identity. | Khaled Hosseini | ||
| 4e6c16d | I'm very busy with schoolwork, of course." "How can she be?" said Ron in horror. "We're on vacation!" | J.K. Rowling | ||
| 2b67fe4 | Love is Love no matter old you are, and I knew if I gave you enough time, you'd come back to me. | love | Nicholas Sparks | |
| 021d96e | Mortal fear is as crucial a thing to our lives as love. It cuts to the core of our being and shows us what we are. Will you step back and cover your eyes? Or will you have the strength to walk to the precipice and look out? | Marisha Pessl | ||
| 346bec9 | No: I am not tired. I have a curious constitution. I never remember feeling tired by work, though idleness exhausts me completely." ~ Sherlock Holmes" | sherlock sherlock-holmes | Arthur Conan Doyle | |
| 2963a90 | Because 'You're perfect just the way you are,' is what your guidance counselor says. And she's an alcoholic. | Libba Bray | ||
| e29c1d6 | The connection was so bad, and I couldn't talk at all during most of the call. How terrible it is when you say I love you and the person at the other end shouts back 'What? | J.D. Salinger | ||
| cee56ba | Listen, I don't care what you say about my race, creed, or religion, Fatty, but don't tell me I'm not sensitive to beauty. That's my Achilles' heel, and don't you forget it. To me, everything is beautiful. Show me a pink sunset, and I'm limp, by God. Anything. Peter Pan. Even before the curtain goes up at Peter Pan I'm a goddamn puddle of tears. | J.D. Salinger | ||
| b8038d7 | Feyre!" someone roared. No, not someone - Rhysand." | rhysand rhys | Sarah J. Maas | |
| 0dcfc28 | Adventure, yeah. I guess that's what you call it when everybody comes back alive. | Mercedes Lackey | ||
| e494e7d | Illusions are to the soul what atmosphere is to the earth. | Virginia Woolf | ||
| bff04b3 | I've always tried to make a home for myself, but I have not felt at home myself. I've worked hard at being the hero of my own life. But every time I checked the register of displaced persons, I was still on it. I didn't know how to belong. Longing? Yes. Belonging? No. | displaced hero longing | Jeanette Winterson |