Likes Quotes (page 688)
But can I really will anything? At this moment I feel the pleasure of being stone, the sun warms me, the wind makes acceptable this adjustment of my body, I have no intention of ceasing to be a stone. Why? Because I like it. So then I too am slave to a passion, which advises me against wanting freely its opposite. However, willing, I could will. And yet I do not. How much freer am I than a stone?
Umberto Eco
She had smiled her way through the births and
had offered the new mothers the support and the medical care that they needed, but the moment
she’d sent them on their way, cutting that last umbilical cord between hospital and home, Lacy
knew she was giving them the wrong advice. Instead of easy platitudes like Let them eat when they
want to eat and You can’t hold a baby too much, she should have been telling them the truth: This
child you’ve been waiting for is not who you imagine him to be....
Jodi Picoult
Everyone wants their kid to grow up and go to Harvard or be a
quarterback for the Patriots. No one ever looks at their baby and thinks, Oh, I hope my kid grows up
and becomes a freak. I hope he gets to school every day and prays he won’t catch anyone’s
attention. But you know what? Kids grow up like that every single day.
Jodi Picoult
![Katherine Mansfield quote: "But, my darling, if you love me,' thought Miss Meadows, 'I..."](/pic/328384/600x316/quotation-katherine-mansfield-but-my-darling-if-you-love-me-thought.jpg)
Everything was red, the air, the sun, whatever I looked at. Except for him. I fell in love with someone who was human. I watched him walk through the hills and come back in the evening when his work was through. I saw things no woman would see: that he knew how to cry, that he was alone. I cast myself at him, like a fool, but he didn't see me. And then one day he noticed I was beautiful and he wanted me. He broke me off and took me with him, in his hands, and I didn't care that I was dying...
Alice Hoffman
She touches me
The jungle lights up with incinerating fire
Looks like a flaming serpent
I look into her eyes
I see a movie flickering
Car crashes
People kicking corpses
Men ripping their tracheas out and shaking them at the sky
I think to myself:
I don’t want to survive this one
I want to burn up in the wreckage
Cooking flesh in the jungle
Henry Rollins
fiction writing is like duck hunting. You go to the right place at the right time with the right dog. You get into the water before dawn, wearing a little protective gear, then you stand behind some reeds and wait for the story to present itself...You choose the place and the day. You pick the gun and the dog. You have the desire to blow the duck apart for reasons that are entirely your own. But you have to be willing to accept not what you wanted to have happen, but what happens... By...
Ann Patchett
I’m so tired of pretending like my life isn’t perfect and bitchin’ and just winning every second, I’m not perfect, and bitching and just delivering the goods at every fucking turn. Because look what I’m dealing with, man — I’m dealing with fools and trolls. I’m dealing with soft targets.
Charlie Sheen
Meantime the clang of the bows and the shouts of the combatants mixed fearfully with the sound of the trumpets, and drowned the groans of those who fell, and lay rolling defenceless beneath the feet of the horses. The splendid armour of the combatants was now defaced with dust and blood, and gave way at every stroke of the sword and battle-axe. The gay plumage, shorn from the crests, drifted upon the breeze like snowflakes. All that was beautiful in the martial array had disappeared, and what...
Walter Scott