Getting Quotes (page 19)
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The thing is, I’ve never believed in feuds. Don’t get me wrong: I’ve been angry with people. Very angry – with people like Patrick Meehan, or that lawyer who tried to bill me for a drink, or Bob Daisley. But I don’t hate them. And I don’t wish them any harm. I reckon hating someone is just a total f**king waste of time and effort. What do you get out of it in the end? Nothing. I’m not trying to come over like the Archangel Gabriel here. I just think that if you’re pissed off with someone,...
Ozzy Osbourne
Words are things. You must be careful, careful about calling people out of their names, using racial pejoratives and sexual pejoratives and all that ignorance. Don’t do that. Some day we’ll be able to measure the power of words. I think they are things. They get on the walls. They get in your wallpaper. They get in your rugs, in your upholstery, and your clothes, and finally in to you.
Maya Angelou
But that doesn't mean to say, of course, there aren't occasions now and then - extremely desolate occasions - when you think to yourself: 'What a terrible mistake I've made with my life.' And you get to thinking about a different life, a better life you might have had. For instance, I get to thinking about a life I may have had with you, Mr. Stevens. And I suppose that's when I get angry about some trivial little thing and leave. But each time I do, I realize before long - my rightful place...
Kazuo Ishiguro
How Tyler saw it was that getting God's attention for being bad was better than getting no attention at all. Maybe God's hate is better than His indifference.
If you could be either God's worst enemy or nothing, which would you choose?
We are God's middle children, according to Tyler Durden, with no special place in history and no special attention.
Unless we get God's attention, we have no hope of damnation or redemption.
Which is worse, hell or nothing?
Only if we're caught and...
Chuck Palahniuk
TINA: Oh, Rick, Rick, I’m scared. What’s happened to us? I can’t seem to find us any more. I reach out and reach out and we’re just not there. I’m frightened. I’m a frightened child (Looks out the window) I hate this rain. Sometimes I see me dead in it.
RICK (quietly): My darling, isn’t that a line from ‘A Farewell To Arms’?
TINA (turns, furious): Get out of here. Get out! Get out of here before I jump out of this window.
Zooey took a parting look at the page he had been reading, then closed...
J. D. Salinger
Did you bring the charms?” Wulf asked Diesel.
Diesel took the charms from his pocket and held them in his palm so Wulf could see.
“They have an excellent selection of baby carriages at Target,” I whispered to Diesel.
“Not now,” Diesel said. “Get a grip.”
“Was I bad? DO I need to get punished? Maybe I need a good paddling.”
Wulf looked like he was thinking about rolling his eyes, and Diesel wrapped an arm around my shoulders and dragged me to him.
“We’ll get to that later,” Diesel...
Janet Evanovich
The second death. To think that you died and no one would remember you. I wondered if this was why we tried so hard to make our mark in America. To be known. Think of how important celebrity has become. We sing to get famous; expose our worst secrets to get famous; lose weight, eat bugs, even commit murder to get famous. Our young people post their deepest thoughts on public web sites. They run cameras from their bedrooms. It’s as if we are screaming Notice Me! Remember Me! Yet the notoriety...
Mitch Albom
I was making for that city in the south of which it was said in our village:"There you'll find queer folk! Just think, they never sleep!"And why not?"Because they never get tired."And why not?"Because they're fools."Don't fools get tired?"How could fools get tired!"---Children on a Country Road, Contemplation.
Franz Kafka
Television is cretinizing me – I can feel it. Soon I’ll be like the TV artists. You know the people I mean. Girls who subliminally model themselves on kid-show presenters, full of faulty melody and joy, Melody and Joy. Men whose manners show newscaster interference, soap stains, film smears. Or the cretinized, those who talk on buses and streets as if TV were real, who call up networks with strange questions, stranger demands...If you lose your rug, you can get a false one. If you lose your...
Martin Amis
It is grim reading’, he said. ‘I fear their end was cruel. Listen! We cannot get out. We cannot get out. They have taken the Bridge and second hall.... Then there are four lines smeared so that I can only read went 5 days ago. The last lines run: the pool is up to the wall at Westgate. The Watcher in the Water took in. We cannot get out. The end comes, and then drums, drums in the deep. I wonder what that means. The last thing written is in a trailing scrawl of elf-letters: they are coming....
J. R. R. Tolkien
We women have lived too much with closure: "If he notices me, if I marry him, if I get into college, if I get this work accepted, if I get this job" -- there always seems to loom the possibility of something being over, settled, sweeping clear the way for contentment. This is the delusion of a passive life. When the hope for closure is abandoned, when there is an end to fantasy, adventure for women will begin.
Carolyn Gold Heilbrun
Sixteen is an intensely troublesome age. You worry about little things, can't pinpoint where you are in any objective way, become really proficient at strange, pointless skills, and are held in thrall by inexplicable complexes. As you get older, though, through trial and error you can learn to get what you need, and throw out what should be discarded. And you start to recognize (or be resigned to the fact) that since your faults and deficiences are well nigh infinite, you'd best figure our...
Haruki Murakami
Love is like a narcotic. At first it brings the euphoria of complete surrender. The next day, you want more. You’re not addicted yet, but you like the sensation, and you think you can still control things. You think about the person you love for two minutes, and forget them for three hours. But then you get used to that person, and you begin to be completely dependent on them. Now you think about him for three hours and forget him for two minutes. If he’s not there, you feel like an addict...
Paulo Coelho