People Quotes (page 561)
Love of music, of sunsets and sea; a liking for the same kind of people; political opinions that are not radically divergent; a similar stance as we look at the stars and think of the marvelous strangeness of the universe - these are what build a marriage. And it is never to be taken for granted.
Madeleine L'Engle
![Craig Ferguson quote: "You can never talk religion on network TV. It makes too many..."](/pic/362249/600x316/quotation-craig-ferguson-you-can-never-talk-religion-on-network-tv-it.jpg)
I often think that he's the only one of us who's achieved immortality. I don't mean in the sense of fame and I don't mean he won't die someday. But he's living it. I think he is what the conception really means. You know how people long to be eternal. But they die with everyday that passes. . . They change, they deny, they contradict- and they call it growth. At the end there is nothing left, nothing unreveresed or unbetrayed; as if there had never been an entity, only a succession of...
Ayn Rand
Your father was no longer a young man. he was already in his fifties.'
Fifty-six,' Eddie said blankly.
Fifty-six,' the old woman repeated. 'His body had been weakened, the ocean had left him vulnerable, pneumonia took hold of him, and in time, he died.'
Because of Mickey?' Eddie said.
Because of loyalty,' she said.
People don’t die because of loyalty.'
They don’t?' she smiled. 'Religion? government? Are we not loyal to such things, sometimes to the death?'
Eddie shrugged.
Better,' she said,...
Mitch Albom
![Yevgeny Zamyatin quote: "We have long become overgrown with calluses; we no longer hear..."](/pic/362090/600x316/quotation-yevgeny-zamyatin-we-have-long-become-overgrown-with-calluses.jpg)
It had been startling and disappointing to me to find out that story books had been written by people, that books were not natural wonders, coming up of themselves like grass. Yet regardless of where they come from, I cannot remember a time when I was not in love with them -- with the books themselves, cover and binding and the paper they were printed on, with their smell and their weight and with their possession in my arms, captured and carried off to myself. Still illiterate, I was ready...
Eudora Welty