Little Quotes (page 276)
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No sight so sad as that of a naughty child," he began, "especially a naughty little girl. Do you know where the wicked go after death?"They go to hell," was my ready and orthodox answer."And what is hell? Can you tell me that?"A pit full of fire."And should you like to fall into that pit, and to be burning there for ever?"No, sir."What must you do to avoid it?"I deliberated a moment: my answer, when it did come was objectionable: "I must keep in good health and not die.
Charlotte Bronte
They don't have to think. Just be afraid naturally and pulling together. Like specks of mercury rolling into the big piece. Like little specks of mercury rolling into bigger specks and then bigger and then just one piece, and nothing to be scared about or hurt about because you're just a piece of a bigger piece getting bigger rolling across the land into an ocean of mercury...
Ken Kesey
Well, said Marilla, unable to find an excuse for deffering her explanation longer, "I suppose I might as well tell you. Matthew and I have decided to keep you- that is, if you try to be a good little girl and show yourself grateful. Why, child whatever is the matter?" "I'm crying," said Anne in a tone of bewilderment. "I can't think why. I'm as glad as can be.
L. M. Montgomery
What I mean is, what makes people unhappy is not too little choice, but too much," said Mitchell Layton. "having to decide, always to decide, torn every which way all of the time. Now in a society of pattern, a man could feel safe. Nobody would come to him all the time pestering him to do something. Nobody would have to do anything. What I mean is, of course, except working for the common good.
Ayn Rand
And long afterwards, in moments of the greatest merriment, there would rise before him the figure of the little clerk with the balding brow, uttering his penetrating words: "Let me be. Why do you offend me?" --and in these penetrating words rang other words: "I am your brother." And the poor young man would bury his face in his hands, and many a time in his life he shuddered to see how much inhumanity there is in man, how much savege coarseness is concealed in refined, cultivated manners, and...
Nikolai Gogol
She had to tell him, while she still had time, how wrong he’d been and how right she’d been. How wrong not to love her more, how wrong not to cherish her and have sex at every opportunity, how wrong not to trust her financial instincts, how wrong to have spent so much time at work and so little with the children, how wrong to have been so negative, how wrong to have been gloomy, how wrong to have run away from life, how wrong to have said no, again and again, instead of yes: she had to tell...
Jonathan Franzen
When a new baby laughs for the first time a new fairy is born, and as there are always new babies there are always new fairies. They live in nests on the tops of trees; and the mauve ones are boys and the white ones are girls, and the blue ones are just little sillies who are not sure what they are.
J. M. Barrie
Everything in the least connected with him has value for me; if someone even mentions his name it is like a little present to me-- and I long to mention it myself, I start subjects leading up to it, and then feel myself going red. I keep swearing to myself not to speak of him again-- and then an opportunity occurs and I jump at it.
Dodie Smith
Francesca said nothing, wondering about a man to whom the difference between a pasture and a meadow seemed important, who got excited about sky color, who wrote a little poetry but not much fiction. Who played the guitar, who earned his living by images and carried his tools in knapsacks. Who seemed like the wind. And moved like it. Came from it, perhaps.
Robert James Waller