Faces Quotes (page 142)
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I ask, I demand to be respected! Shatov went on shouting. "Not for my person--to hell with it--but for something else, just for now, for a few words...We are two beings, and we have come together in infinity...for the last time in the world. Abandon your tone and take a human one! At least for once in your life speak in a human voice. Not for my sake, but for your own. Do you understand that you should forgive me that slap in the face if only because with it I gave you an opportunity to...
Fyodor Dostoevsky
You, too!" it seemed to say, "you, too, shall taste of that peace and that unrest in a searching intimacy with your own self - obscure as we were and as supreme in the face of all the winds andall the seas, in an immensity that receives no impress, preservesno memories, and keeps no reckoning of lives.
Joseph Conrad
Opening my door to Dillon Ruddick, my bulding super. I handed him a cup of coffee. "Sorry about the blood." "What was it this time?" No one reported gunfire."I hit a guy in the face with a hair dryer."Whoa." Dillon said."It wasn't my fault," I told him."Maybe we should lay down some linoleum here. It would make things easier for clean up.
Janet Evanovich
How was it that he haunted her imagination so persistently? What could it be? Why did she care for what he thought, in spite of all her pride in spite of herself? She believed that she could have borne the sense of Almighty displeasure, because He knew all, and could read her penitence, and hear her cries for help in time to come. But Mr. Thornton-why did she tremble, and hide her face in the pillow? What strong feeling had overtaking her at last?
Elizabeth Gaskell
I am, O Anxious One. Don't you hear my voice
surging forth with all my earthly feelings?
They yearn so high, that they have sprouted wings
and whitely fly in circles round your face.
My soul, dressed in silence, rises up
and stands alone before you: can't you see?
don't you know that my prayer is growing ripe
upon your vision as upon a tree?
If you are the dreamer, I am what you dream.
But when you want to wake, I am your wish,
and I grow strong with all magnificence
and turn myself into a...
Rainer Maria Rilke
At the very moment Mrs. Bentley was smiling down upon them with her yellow mask face, around a corner like an elfin band came an ice-cream wagon. It jingled out icy melodies, as crisp and rimmed as crystal wine-glasses tapped by an expert, summoning all. The children sat up, turning their heads, like sunflowers after the sun. (Season of Disbelief)
Ray Bradbury
The greatest issue facing the world today, with all its heartbreaking needs, is whether those who, by profession or culture, are identified as ‘Christians’ will become disciples – students, apprentices, practitioners – of Jesus Christ, steadily learning from him how to live the life of the Kingdom of the Heavens into every corner of human existence.
Dallas Willard
The wedding ended, hurriedly, on a surge of masculine bonhomie and relief. Five minutes later, followed by the red-eyed glares of their womenfolk, Buccleuch and his friends and his new-married son had plunged off to join Lord Culter, head of the Crawfords, and Francis Crawford his brother, to fight the English once more. * Sentimentally, Will Scott thought, it made his wedding-day perfect. Cantering, easy and big-limbed, through the bracken of Ettrick-side, with leaves stuck, lime-green and...
Dorothy Dunnett
Men!"At least we don't fake it."Listen, it was your uncle. And we were late, remember? So I made the sacrifice and got us there in time for dessert. You should be thanking me."Morelli's mouth was open slightly and his face was registering a mixture of astonished disbelief and wounded, pissed-off male pride. Okay, it wasn't that much of a sacrifice at the time, and I knew he shouldn't be thanking me, but give me a break here... this wasn't famine in Ethiopia
Janet Evanovich
Because when she failed, I saw how she might have succeeded. Arrows that continually glanced off from Mr. Rochester's breast and fell harmless at his feet, might, I knew, if shot by a surer hand, have quivered keen in his proud heart - have called love into his stern eye, and softness into his sardonic face, or better still, without weapons a silent conquest might have been won.
Charlotte Bronte