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Across Quotes (page 27)

The jagged mountains were pure blue in the dawn and everywhere birds twittered and the sun when it rose caught the moon in the west so that they lay opposed to each other across the earth, the sun whitehot and the moon a pale replica, as if they were the ends of a common bore beyond whose terminals burned worlds past all reckoning. Cormac McCarthy
Now the wintertime is coming. The windows are filled with frost. I went to tell everybody. But I could not get across. Well, I wanna be your lover, baby. I don't wanna be your boss. Don't say I never warned you. When your train gets lost. Bob Dylan
My writing, on the other hand, is always done with my readers in mind. I never write for my own amusement. I always try to put across an idea that I feel is important, in the most easily readable form I can manage. This has annoyed some of my academic colleagues, who feel that I am oversimplifying my subject, but I argue that at least my writings are widely read, while theirs stay firmly within the confines of their academic ivory towers. And I always work with one special rule in mind:... Desmond Morris
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to reach for him across the hundreds and hundreds of miles, to send my thoughts into his mind, to let him know he is not alone. But he is. And I can't help him. Suzanne Collins
Terry Prachett quote: "The dark moppets of dread played their paranoid hopscotch..."
The dark moppets of dread played their paranoid hopscotch across Moist's inner eyeballs. Terry Prachett
Warm are the still and lucky miles, White shores of longing stretch away, A light of recognition fills. The whole great day, and bright. The tiny world of lovers' arms. Silence invades the breathing wood. Where drowsy limbs a treasure keep, Now greenly falls the learned shade. Across the sleeping brows. And stirs their secret to a smile. Restored! Returned! The lost are borne. On seas of shipwreck home at last: See! In a fire of praising burns. The dry dumb past, and we. Our life-day long... W. H. Auden
Virginia Wolf wrote, 'Across the broad continent of a woman's life falls the shadow of a sword.' On one side of that sword, she said, there lies convention and tradition and order, where all is correct. But on the other side of that sword, if you're crazy enough to cross it and choose a life that does not follow convention, 'all is confusion.' Nothing follows a regular course. Her argument was that the crossing of the shadow of that sword may bring a more interesting existence to a woman,... Elizabeth Gilbert
Too many good docs are getting out of the business. Too many OB/GYN's aren't able to practice their love with women all across the country."(Poplar Bluff, Missouri, 6 September, 2004) George W. Bush
Primitives of our own species, even today are historically shallow in their knowledge of the past. Only the poet who writes speaks his message across the millennia to other hearts. Loren Eiseley
If smallness was fortune, then I had come across a treasure, infinitesimal and beyond value. I felt lucky. You had to decide what was estimable and precious in your life and set out to find it. The objects you valued defined you. Pat Conroy
It was likely, then that this—-this stumbling walk on a wet night across a ploughed field-—meant death. Death—-the thing one had always heard of (like love), the thing the poets had written about. So this was how it was going to be. But that was not the main point. C. S. Lewis
But with this woman it is as if there is no interior, only a surface across which I hunt back and forth seeking entry. Is this how her torturers felt hunting their secret, whatever they thought it was? For the first time I feel a dry pity for them: how natural a mistake to believe that you can burn or tear or hack your way into the secret body of the other! The girl lies in my bed, but there is no good reason why it should be a bed. I behave in some ways like a lover—I undress her, I bathe... J. M. Coetzee
So if you ever felt something behind you, when you weren't even one, like welcome heat, like a bulb, like a sun, trying to shine right across the universe - it was me. Always me. It was me. It was me. Martin Amis
As though she had entered a fable, as though she were no more than words crawling along a dry page, or as though she were becoming that page itself, that surface on which her story would be written and across which there blew a hot and merciless wind, turning her body to papyrus, her skin to parchment, her soul to paper. Salman Rushdie
But I will not tell you how long or short the way will be; only that it lies across a river. But do not fear that, for I am the great Bridge Builder. C. S. Lewis

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