One On One Quotes (page 144)
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enjoying a tranquillity in which I
won’t write the works I don’t write now, and to keep on
not writing them I’ll come up with even better excuses
than the ones I use today to elude myself. Or I’ll be in an
institution for paupers, happy in my utter defeat, mixed
up with the rabble of would-be geniuses who were no more than beggars with dreams, thrown in with the
anonymous throng of those who didn’t have strength enough to conquer nor renunciation enough to conquer enough to conquer nor...
Fernando Pessoa
Legally, Moosbrugger's case could be summed up in-a sentence. Hewas one of those borderline cases in law and forensic medicineknown even to the layman as a case of diminished responsibility. These unfortunates typically suffer not only substandard healthbut also have a substandard disease, Nature has a peculiar prefer-ence for producing such people in droves. Natura non fecit saltus, she makes no jumps but prefers gradual transitions; even on thegrand scale she keeps the world in a...
Robert Musil
It is these undeniable qualities of human love and compassion and self-sacrifice that give me hope for the future. We are, indeed, often cruel and evil. Nobody can deny this. We gang up on each one another, we torture each other, with words as well as deeds, we fight, we kill. But we are also capable of the most noble, generous, and heroic behavior.
Jane Goodall
Marchand dreams that in one magical and endless night the rejected manuscripts make love every way possible with his abandoned manuscript: they sodomize it, rape it orally and genitally, come in its hair, on its body, in its ears, in its armpits, etc., but when morning comes, his manuscript hasn't been fertilized. It's sterile. In that sterility, Marchand believes, lies its uniqueness, its magnetism.
Roberto Bolano
I watch the morning dawn upon your skin, A splinter in the light, It caught and frayed the very heart of us, It's been hiding there inside for all this time, How a sure thing winds up just like this, Clockwork silence only knows, And it's no one's fault, There's no black and white, Only you and me, On this endless night, And as the hours run away, With another life, Oh, darling can't you see, It's now or never, It's now or never.
Josh Groban
I never understood her preoccupation with heredity. Somewhere, I had received the impression that Fine Folks were people who did the best they could with the sense they had, but Aunt Alexandra was of the opinion, obliquely expressed, that the longer a family had been squatting on one patch of land the finer it was.
Harper Lee