Buts Quotes (page 8)
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But I'm the only one in my class who has to stay after school."Yeah, well... that's okay. I had to stay after school when I was a kid, too." That seemed to get his attention. "You did?"Yeah. Only I didn't have to do it for only a couple of months, I had to do it for two years."Two years?"Miles nodded for emphasis. "Every day."Wow," he said, "you must really have been dumb if you had to stay for two years."That wasn't my point, but I guess if it makes you feel better, I'll take it."You're a...
Nicholas Sparks
But you, Achilles,/ There is not a man in the world more blest than you--/ There never has been, never will be one./ Time was, when you were alive, we Argives/ honored you as a god, and now down here, I see/ You Lord it over the dead in all your power./ So grieve no more at dying, great Achilles.’
I reassured the ghost, but he broke out protesting,/ ‘No winning words about death to me, shining Odysseus!/ By god, I’d rather slave on earth for another man--/ Some dirt-poor tenant farmer who...
Homer
But as he reached the ground and sprinted towards the dais, Lupin grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back. There's nothing you can do, Harry -'Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!'- it's too late, Harry.'We can still reach him -' Harry struggled hard and viciously, but Lupin would not let go... There's nothing you can do, Harry... nothing... he's gone.
J. K. Rowling
But what else can we do when we're so weak? We invest hours each day, months each year, years each lifetime in something over which we have no control; it is any wonder then, that we are reduced to creating ingenious but bizarre liturgies designed to give us the illusion that we are powerful after all, just as every other primitive community has done when faced with a deep and apparently impenetrable mystery?
Nick Hornby
But I can stop on any corner at the intersection of two busy streets, and before me are thousands of lives headed in all four directions, uptown downtown east and west, on foot, on bikes, on in-line skates, in buses, strollers, cars, trucks, with the subway rumble underneath my feet... and how can I not know I am momentarily part of the most spectacular phenomenon in the unnatural world? ...The city may begin from a marketplace, a trading post, the confluence of waters, but it secretly...
E. L. Doctorow
But, Ed! Say! Are you going to let him get away with it?"Am I going to let him get away with it!" said Mr. Cootes, annoyed by the foolish question. "Wake me up in the night and ask me!" "But what are you going to do?"Do!" said Mr. Cootes. "Do! I'll tell you what I'm going to..." He paused, and the stern resolve that shone in his face seemed to flicker. "Say, what the hell am I going do?" he went on somewhat weakly.
P. G. Wodehouse
But if you happen to be a man, sometime in the future, and you’ve made it this far, please remember: you will never be subject to the temptation or feeling you must forgive, a man, as a woman. It’s difficult to resist, believe me. But remember that forgiveness too is a power. To beg for it is a power, and to withhold or bestow it is a power, perhaps the greatest.
Margaret Atwood
But hidden drawers, lockable diaries and cryptographic systems could not conceal from Briony the simple truth: she had no secrets. Her wish for a harmonious, organised world denied her the reckless possibilities of wrongdoing. Mayhem and destruction were too chaotic for her tastes, and she did not have it in her to be cruel. Her effective status as an only child, as well as the relative isolation of the Tallis house, kept her, at least during the long summer holidays, from girlish intrigues...
Ian Mcewan
But once an idea for a novel seizes a writer...well, it’s like an inner fire that at first warms you and makes you feel good but then begins to eat you alive, burn you up from within. You can’t just walk away from the fire; it keeps burning. The only way to put it out is to write the book.
Dean Koontz
But this thing, whatever it was, this mistlike something, hung there inside my body like a certain kind of potential. I wanted to give it a name, but the word refused to come to mind. I’m terrible at finding the right words for things. I’m sure Tolstoy would have been able to come up with exactly the right word
Haruki Murakami
But then if you lied to a man about his talent just because he was sitting across from you, that was the most unforgivable lie of them all, because that was telling him to go on, to continue which was the worst way for a man without real talent to waste his life, finally. But many people did just that, friends and relatives mostly.
Charles Bukowski