Knocked Quotes (page 5)
I have cried even when the laugh did choke me. But no more think that I am all sorry when I cry, for the laugh he come just the same. Keep it always with you that laughter who knock at your door and say, ‘May I come in?’ is not true laughter. No! He is a king, and he come when and how he like. He ask no person, he choose no time of suitability. He say, ‘I am here.
Bram Stoker
What we’re trying to do is write cricket bats, so that when we throw up an idea and give it a little knock, it might … travel … ([He] picks up the script.) Now, what we’ve got here is a lump of wood of roughly the same shape trying to be a cricket bat, and if you hit a ball with it, the ball would travel about ten feet and you will drop the bat and dance about shouting ‘Ouch!’ with your hands stuck into your armpits. (indicating the cricket bat) This isn’t better because someone says it’s...
Tom Stoppard
But in real life things don't go so smoothly. At certain points in our lives, when we really need a clear-cut solution, the person who knocks at our door is more likely than not, a messenger bearing bad news...The messenger touches his hand to his cap and looks apologetic, but that does nothing to improve the contents of the message. It isn't the messenger's fault, no good to grab him by the collar and shake him. The messenger is just conscientiously doing the job his boss assigned him. And...
Haruki Murakami
February. Boris Pasternak. It's February. Get ink. Weep. Write the heart out about it, sing. Another song of February. While raucous slush burns black with spring. Six grivnas* for a buggy ride. Past booming bells, on screaming gears, Out to a place where drizzles fall. Louder than any ink or tears. Where like a flock of charcoal pears, A thousand blackbirds, ripped awry. From trees to puddles, knock dry grief. Into the deep end of the eye. A thaw patch blackens underfoot. The wind is gutted...
Boris Pasternak
He charged the ranks of the goblins of Mount Gram in the Battle of the Green Fields, and knocked their king Golfimbul's head clean off with a wooden club. It sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit-hole, and in this way the battle was won and the game of Golf invented at the same moment.
J. R. R. Tolkien