Began Quotes (page 38)
-
-
-
No sight so sad as that of a naughty child," he began, "especially a naughty little girl. Do you know where the wicked go after death?"They go to hell," was my ready and orthodox answer."And what is hell? Can you tell me that?"A pit full of fire."And should you like to fall into that pit, and to be burning there for ever?"No, sir."What must you do to avoid it?"I deliberated a moment: my answer, when it did come was objectionable: "I must keep in good health and not die.
Charlotte Bronte
Slowly, my mother returned to us. She began to clean and cook and preserve some food I brought in for winter. People traded us or payed money for her medical remedies. One day, i heard her singing. Prim was thrilled to have her back but i kept watching, waiting for her to disappear on us again. I didn't trust her. And some small gnarled place inside of me hated her for her weakness, for her neglect, for the months she had put us through. Prim forgave her, but I had taken a step back from my...
Suzanne Collins
Night came on, the lamps were lighted, the tables near him found occupants, and Paris began to wear that peculiar evening look of hers which seems to say, in the flare of windows and theatre-doors, and the muffled rumble of swift-rolling carriages, that this is no world for you unless you have your pockets lined and your scruples drugged.
Henry James
Everything began with images; a faun carrying an umbrella, a queen on a sledge, a magnificent lion. At first there wasn’t even anything Christian about them; that element pushed itself in of its own accord. It was part of the bubbling.(from the essay Sometimes Fairy Stories May Say Best What’s To Be Said)
C. S. Lewis
Some people seem to think that I began by asking myself how I could say something about Christianity to children; then fixed on the fairy tale as an instrument; then collected the information about child-psychology and decided what age group I’d write for; then drew up a list of basic Christian truths and hammered out ‘allegories’ to embody them. This is all pure moonshine. (from the essay Sometimes Fairy Stories May Say Best What’s To Be Said)
C. S. Lewis
I was not really angry: I felt for him all the time, and longed to be reconciled; but I determined he should make the first advances, or at least show some signs of an humble and contrite spirit, first; for, if I began, it would only minister to his self-conceit, increase his arrogance, and quite destroy the lesson I wanted to give him.
Anne Bronte
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, And Mourners to and fro. Kept treading? treading? till it seemed. That Sense was breaking through? And when they all were seated, A Service, like a Drum? Kept beating? beating? till I thought. My Mind was going numb? And then I heard them lift a Box. And creak across my Soul. With those same Boots of Lead, again, Then Space? began to toll, As all the Heavens were a Bell, And Being, but an Ear, And I, and Silence, some strange Race. Wrecked, solitary, here?...
Emily Dickinson
There are two great powers and they've been fighting since time began. Every advance in human life, every scrap of knowledge and wisdom and decency we have has been torn by one side from the teeth of the other. Every little increase in human freedom has been fought over ferociously between those who want us to know more and be wiser and stronger, and those who want us to obey and be humble and submit.
Philip Pullman
At most, a hundred paces separated him from them. The powerful beast, seeing the riders and horses, rose on his fore paws and began to gaze at them. The sun, which now stood low, illuminated his huge head and shaggy breasts, and in that ruddy luster he was like one of those sphinxes which ornament the entrances to ancient Egyptian temples.
Henryk Sienkiewicz
She began to whisper something in my ear. It’s the strangest thing about poetry—you can tell it’s poetry, even if you don’t speak the language. You can hear Homer’s Greek without understanding a word, and you still know it’s poetry. I’ve heard Polish poetry, and Inuit poetry, and I knew what it was without knowing. Her whisper was like that. I didn’t know the language, but her words washed through me, perfect, and in my mind’s eye I saw towers of glass and diamond; and people with eyes of the...
Neil Gaiman
Come, what did I say, repeat it? he would ask. But I could never repeat anything, so ludicrous it seemed that he should talk to me, not of himself or me, but of something else, as though it mattered what happened outside us. Only much later I began to have some slight understanding of his cares and to be interested in them.
Leo Tolstoy
The wind shook some blossoms from the trees, and the heavy lilac blooms, with their clustering stars, moved to and fro in the languid air. A grasshopper began to chirp by the wall, and like a blue thread a long, thin dragonfly floated past on its brown gauze wings. Lord Henry felt as if he could hear Basil Hallward's heart beating, and wondered what was coming.
Oscar Wilde