Heard Quotes (page 58)
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there was a soldier in the next room living with his wife and he would soon be going over there to protect me from Hitler so I snapped the radio off and then heard his wife say, "you shouldn't have done that." and the soldier said, "FUCK THAT GUY!" which I thought was a very nice thing for him to tell his wife to do. of course, she never did.
Charles Bukowski
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
You must not let fatigue set in," she warns. "That is what my mother said. Let your body work until it is spent, but keep your mind for yourself."Good advice."To tell the truth, I do not know this thing called 'mind', what it does or how to use it. It is only a word I have heard."The mind is nothing you use," I say. "The mind is just there. It is like the wind. You simply feel its movements.
Haruki Murakami
Yes, she is." He looks at me, his face carved in pain. "She is dying, Sara. She will die, either tonight or tomorrow or maybe a year from now if we're really lucky. You heard what Dr. Chance said. Arsenic's not a cure. It just postpones what's coming."My eyes fill up with tears. "But I love her," I say, because that is reason enough.
Jodi Picoult
I understood it all. I understood Pablo. I understood Mozart, and somewhere behind me I heard his ghastly laughter. I knew that all the hundred thousand pieces of life's game were in my pocket. A glimpse of its meaning had stirred my reason and I was determined to begin the game afresh. I would sample its tortures once more and shudder again at its senselessness. I would traverse not once more, but often, the hell of my inner being.
Herman Hesse
All they're trying to do is tell you what they're like, and what you're like—what's going on—what the weather is now, today, this moment, the rain, the sunlight, look! Open your eyes; listen, listen. That is what the novelists say. But they don't tell you what you will see and hear. All they can tell you is what they have seen and heard, in their time in this world, a third of it spent in sleep and dreaming, another third of it spent in telling lies. “The truth against the world!”—Yes....
Ursula K. Le Guin
He fumbles at your spirit. As players at the keys. Before they drop full music on; He stuns you by degrees. Prepares your brittle substance. For the ethereal blowby fainter hammers, further heard, Then nearer, then so slow. Your breath has time to straighten. Your brain to bubble cool,-Deals one imperial thunderbolt. That scalps your naked soul.
Emily Dickinson