Bigs Quotes (page 87)
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He examined the chess problem and set out the pieces. It was a tricky ending, involving a couple of knights.'White to play and mate in two moves.'Winston looked up at the portrait of Big Brother. White always mates, he thought with a sort of cloudy mysticism. Always, without exception, it is so arranged. In no chess problem since the beginning of the world has black ever won. Did it not symbolize the eternal, unvarying triumph of Good over Evil? The huge face gazed back at him, full of calm...
George Orwell
Aslan? Who dares to speak of Aslan?" The White Witch jumped from her sledge, and began arguing violently with the empty chair. "Now look here, you big Lion you! We're tired of you telling us hags and ogres what to do. What's that? You say you want to help the poor, the hungry? Well, we don't care! You're strange and evil -- and you have a funny sounding name!"Who is she talking to?" Edmund whispered. "I don't know," Lucy replied. "There's no one there!
C. S. Lewis
For de small stealing dey puts you in jail, soon or late. But for de big stealing dey puts yo' picture in de paper and yo' statue in de Hall of Fame when you croaks! If dey's one thing I learned in ten years, listenin' to de white quality on de Pullman cars, it's dat same fact. And when I gets a chance to use it -- from stowaway to Emperor in two years. Dat's goin' some!
Eugene O'Neill
My God, she's good-looking!" said Mr. Sandwood, who was just over thirty."Good-looking!" cried Mr. Hedrick contemptuously, "she always looks as if she wanted to be kissed! Turning those big cow-eyes on every calf in town!"It was doubtful if Mr. Hedrick intended a reference to the maternal instinct.
F. Scott Fitzgerald
His familiar husky voice sent a wave of wistfulness through me. A thousand memories spun in my head, tangling together- a rocky beach strewn with driftwood trees, a garage made of plastic sheds, warm sodas in a paper bag, a tiny room with one too-small shabby loveseat. The laughter in his deep-set black eyes, the feverish heat of his big hand around mine, the flash of his white teeth against his dark skin, his face stretching into the wide smile that had always been like a key to a secret...
Stephenie Meyer
I love this place; I love mountains and big skies and forests. And the weather is still supremely beautiful even though the lower peaks are powdered with fresh snow. But Heavens! What sun. It never has an ending. I am basking at this minute - half past four - too hot without a hat, & the sky is that transparent blue only to be seen in autumn - the forest trees steeped in light.
Katherine Mansfield
