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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 3ed641d | Stay here and do the packing and let the young one run all over California for you! Don't you always say the success of collecting is in the packing? You're the boss--take the most important role and stop moaning! | Tracy Chevalier | ||
| 973628c | not of this world, | Tracy Chevalier | ||
| 3ceb4a5 | It's simple, Miss Philpot. This is one of God's early models, and He decided to give the subsequent ones smaller eyes." I raised my eyebrows. "Do you mean God rejected it?" "I mean God wanted a better version--the crocodile we know now--and replaced it." | Tracy Chevalier | ||
| 0e343e7 | marry. Fanny was having all the time what I experienced only the once with Colonel Birch in the orchard. I had my fame to comfort me, and the money it brought in, but that only went so far. I could not hate Fanny, for it were my fault she was crippled. But I could not ever feel friendly towards her nor comfortable round her. That was the case with many people in Lyme. I had come unstuck. I would never be a lady like the Philpots--no one wou.. | Tracy Chevalier | ||
| 52e8515 | Women were not and never had been the weaker sex, she reflected. They could make sacrifices from which men would ever shy away. | Rosalind Laker | ||
| 0398260 | But the human body is tough and not easily dismembered, even horses have great difficulty accomplishing it. | Patrick Süskind | ||
| d2b8857 | On the other hand, everyday language soon would prove inadequate for designating all the olfactory notions that he had accumulated within himself. Soon he was no longer smelling mere wood, but kinds of wood: maple wood, oak wood, pinewood, elm wood, pearwood, old, young, rotting, moldering, mossy wood, down to single logs, chips, and splinters. | Patrick Süskind | ||
| d684a72 | And as her love revived, so did her capacity for suffering. Life, more important, grew more bitter. | love suffering | E.M. Forster | |
| 25bbaf7 | The best joy and beauty are the kinds that are unplanned, and the same is true of painting or poetry. Don't chew at it too much. It's beautiful, and it makes you remember a beautiful part of your life and that's enough. | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 19430dc | Of course, the sea has tried to kill me on several occasions, has timed itself to coincide with my stupidity and put an end to me. Here in this beautiful lagoon, with time to think of things, and with serenity, some of the madness comes back to me now as I attempt the death-defying feat of eating a second Oreo with my tea. | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 932b04b | I ran from the barn out through the herd to make certain and saw that the coyote was really dead, as was the sheep, but I ran smack into what makes border collies the incredible beings that they are. Louise grabbed at the coyote's neck, growling, and having made certain that it was dead, tried to bring the sheep back to life. She pulled at the ewe, trying to lift her to her feet, nudged at her ribs in a kind of crude CPR, | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 29abb2b | I have seen their humor and anger expressed in natural terms and learned more about them as dogs and not just extensions of human training. | Gary Paulsen | ||
| da9abb6 | He had to keep thinking of them because if he forgot them and did not think of them they might forget about him. And he had to keep hoping. He had to keep hoping. | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 68bb04b | sex | Gary Paulsen | ||
| fc2ac59 | It was, all in all, a grand example of interspecies lack of cooperation and the further illustration that might makes right. I stayed in the rest area, in my car, for another half an hour, until everything had settled down, and saw who emerged as the victor. The bees kept the water fountain. | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 8a64b27 | awful, | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 335f370 | The mosquitoes. Tearing at him, clouds of them, the awful, ripping, thick masses of the small monsters trying to bleed him dry. | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 62d7354 | Y)ou didn't want somebody running around smiling and saying, 'We'll get by,' when the house was on fire; you wanted somebody to yell 'fire! | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 559f0f0 | Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve 'This Side of Wild' Excerpt | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 6711ef9 | All I need is some barbecue sauce," he said aloud, grease dripping down his chin. "And a Coke . . ." When" | Gary Paulsen | ||
| fb4e6df | live in sound, always in noise. Perhaps because it is so constant, the art of listening to them falls off, and so many things they say are not heard, are swallowed in the overall | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 4b3bacf | It stopped him, the idea of giving thanks. At first his mind just stopped and he thought, for what? For the plane crash, for being here? I should thank somebody for that? Then a small voice, almost a whisper, came into his mind and all it said was: It could have been worse; you could have been down in the plane with the pilot. And | Gary Paulsen | ||
| d5f7e17 | I fell off a dogsled down a frozen waterfall and landed on sharp ice on a kneecap. It was so agonizing, I thought, seriously, that my heart would stop. But I found that my whole dog team loved and worried about me so much, they curved downstream and worked back up to me to surround me as I lay clutching my lacerated knee, whimpering and pushing their warm bodies against me. I remember the love, the dog love, much more than the shattered kne.. | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 3317b15 | The hatchet. The key to it all. Nothing without the hatchet. Just that would take all his thanks. And | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 4d3c86a | You never beat the game...You go in, take what you need, get out. Never stay too long and never, never try to whip the game. Stay there too long and they figure you out, start chewing at the corners on you, know your betting. Then maybe two, three of them get together and whipsaw you. | Gary Paulsen | ||
| cad034a | He reached now and ran one of Gretchen's soft ears through his gnarled, bent fingers, like silk through barbwire. "And I never saw it until I started with Gretchen. Got her to sit one day. The same day, she looked a long time at me and at a piece of cookie"--and here she perked up, ears more alert with the word "cookie"--"in my hand, and she saw the cookie and my eyes and then she sat. Clean and down. As much as if she'd said, 'I'll sit and.. | Gary Paulsen | ||
| a973bc6 | For those of you who wish to get a feel for it, get in the car and bring it up to fifty miles an hour and then stick your head and arms outside and, while driving, try to fold up a simple bath towel in the wind | sailing | Gary Paulsen | |
| dfd6f63 | But perhaps more than his body was the change in his mind, or in the way he was--was becoming. I am not the same, he thought. I see, I hear differently. | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 0f992a3 | Ugly, he thought. Very, very ugly. And he was, at that moment, almost overcome with self-pity. He was dirty and starving and bitten and hurt and lonely and ugly and afraid and so completely miserable that it was like being in a pit, a dark, deep pit with no way out. He sat back on the bank and fought crying. Then let it come and cried for perhaps three, four minutes. Long tears, self-pity tears, wasted tears. | Gary Paulsen | ||
| f59891b | most important rule of survival, which was that feeling sorry for yourself didn't work. | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 5151f70 | The answer to his problem had come to | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 8b4bbe2 | Then we knew he was lying. | Gary Paulsen | ||
| ce97069 | berries he would have to eat the gut cherries again | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 25a441a | And doing what is good for you is always the worst thing. Even if it works out all right in the end, it is the worst thing when it first happens--just the way things that seem good for you can turn out bad, bad as dirt. | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 655f83b | school | Gary Paulsen | ||
| a42aedc | All I need is some barbecue sauce," he said aloud, grease dripping down his chin. "And a Coke . . ." | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 79f1794 | How could he? The | Gary Paulsen | ||
| b9f96d7 | All right, he thought, take one thing at a time. Just one thing. I poked my leg with an arrow. There. Good. I pulled the arrow out. My leg still works. It must not have been a broadhead because it didn't go in very deep. Good. | canoe tent | Gary Paulsen | |
| 1c05a50 | My name is Brian Robeson and I am thirteen years old and I am alone in the north woods of Canada. All | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 9ca9bff | heron, | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 3d0b22c | Brian had once had an English teacher, a guy named Perpich, who was always talking about being positive, thinking positive, staying on top of things. | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 3e5ceb2 | Which Brian had done. They had taken off and that was the last of the conversation. There had been the initial excitement, of course. He had never flown in a single-engine plane before and to be sitting in the copilot's seat with all the controls right there in front of him, all the instruments in his face as the plane clawed for altitude, jerking and sliding on the wind currents as the pilot took off, had been interesting and exciting. But.. | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 668fbd2 | So. So. So here I am." And there it is, he thought. For" | Gary Paulsen | ||
| 38fe0fc | Kind of like a pear, he had thought, with a point on one end and a fat little body; a flying pear. | Gary Paulsen |