January Quotes (page 2)
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The sixth of January, 1482, is not, however, a day of which history has preserved the memory. There was nothing notable in the event which thus set the bells and the bourgeois of Paris in a ferment from early morning. It was neither an assault by the Picards nor the Burgundians, nor a hunt led along in procession, nor a revolt of scholars in the town of Laas, nor an entry of “our much dread lord, monsieur the king,” nor even a pretty hanging of male and female thieves by the courts of Paris....
Victor Hugo
Life is like invading Russia. A blitz start, massed shakos, plumes dancing like a flustered henhouse; a period of svelte progress recorded in ebullient despatches as the enemy falls back; then the beginning of a long, morale-sapping trudge with rations getting shorter and the first snowflakes upon your face. The enemy burns Moscow and you yield to General January, whose fingernails are very icicles. Bitter retreat. Harrying Cossacks. Eventually you fall beneath a boy-gunner's grapeshot while...
Julian Barnes
Today I realized that what I wrote yesterday I really wrote today: everything from December 31 I wrote on January 1, i. e. today, and what I wrote on December 30 I wrote on the 31st, i. e. yesterday. What I write today I'm really writing tomorrow, which for me will be today and yesterday, and also, in some sense, tomorrow: an invisible day. But enough of that.
Roberto Bolano
In winter darkness, the Baghdad Arabian keen blue deepness of the piercing lovely January winter's dusk--it used to tear my heart out, one stabbing soft star was in the middle of the magicalest blue, throbbing like love--I saw Maggie's black hair in this night-- In the shelves of Orion her eye shades, borrowed, gleamed a dark and proud vellum somber power brooding rich bracelets of the moon rose from our snow, and surrounded the mystery.
Jack Kerouac
Hope is what led a band of colonists to rise up against an empire; what led the greatest of generations to free a continent and heal a nation; what led young women and young men to sit at lunch counters and brave fire hoses and march through Selma and Montgomery for freedom's cause. Hope is what led me here today -- with a father from Kenya, a mother from Kansas; and a story that could only happen in the United States of America. Hope is the bedrock of this nation; the belief that our destiny...
Barack Obama
Are you such a dreamer
To put the world to rights?
I'll stay home forever
Where two and two always makes a five
I'll lay down the tracks
Sandbag and hide
January has April's showers
And two and two always makes a five
It's the devil's way now
There is no way out
You can SCREAM and you can shout
It is too late now
Because...
You have not been
Payin' attention!
Payin' attention!
Payin' attention!
Payin' attention!
You have not been paying attention!
Thom Yorke
I am no more lonely than a single mullein or dandelion in a pasture, or abean leaf, or sorrel, or a horse-fly, or a bumblebee. I am no more lonelythan the Mill Brook, or a weathercock, or the north star, or the southwind, or an April shower, or a January thaw, or the first spider in a newhouse.
Henry David Thoreau
One must have a mind of winter To regard the frost and the boughs Of the pine-trees crusted with snow; And have been cold a long time To behold the junipers shagged with ice, The spruces rough in the distant glitter Of the January sun; and not to think Of any misery in the sound of the wind, In the sound of a few leaves, Which is the sound of the land Full of the same wind That is blowing in the same bare place For the listener, who listens in the snow, And, nothing himself, beholds Nothing...
Wallace Stevens
I do not love you except because I love you; I go from loving to not loving you, From waiting to not waiting for you. My heart moves from cold to fire. I love you only because it's you the one I love; I hate you deeply, and hating you. Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you. Is that I do not see you but love you blindly. Maybe January light will consume. My heart with its cruel. Ray, stealing my key to true calm. In this part of the story I am the one who. Dies, the only...
Pablo Neruda
Leaving any bookstore is hard, especially on a day in August, when the street outside burns and glares, and the books inside are cool and crisp to the touch; especially on a day in January, when the wind is blowing, the ice is treacherous, and the books inside seem to gather together in colorful warmth. It's hard to leave a bookstore any day of the year, though, because a bookstore is one of the few places where all the cantankerous, conflicting, alluring voices of the world co-exist in peace...
Jane Smiley