Persistence Quotes (page 8)
Durnik needs a tower somewhere in the Vale," Belgarath was saying."I don't see why, father," Polgara replied."All of Aldur's disciples have towers, Pol. It's the custom."Old customs persist --even when there's no longer any need for them."He's going to need to study, Pol. How can he possibly study with you underfoot all the time?"She gave him a long, chilly stare."Maybe I should rephrase that.
David Eddings
You did study art there?" Gennie persisted. Grant watched the smoke rise and the haze of heat that rippled the air. "Why?"Because it's obvious from that wicked little caricature you drew of me that you have talent, and that you've had training. What are you doing with it?"With what?"Gennie drew her brows together in frustration. "The talent and the training. I'd have heard of you if you were painting."I'm not," he said simply."Then what are you doing?"What I want. Weren't you going to make a...
Nora Roberts
Her affection for him was now the breath and life of Tess's being; it enveloped her as a photosphere, irradiated her into forgetfulness of her past sorrows, keeping back the gloomy spectres that would persist in their attempts to touch her—doubt, fear, moodiness, care, shame. She knew that they were waiting like wolves just outside the circumscribing light, but she had long spells of power to keep them in hungry subjection there.
Thomas Hardy
When afterwards I tried to tell my aunt, she punished me again for my wicked persistence. Then, as I said, everyone was forbidden to listen to me, to hear a word about it. Even my fairy-tale books were taken away from me for a time - because I was too 'imaginative'. Eh! Yes, they did that! My father belonged to the old school.... And my story was driven back upon myself. I whispered it to my pillow - my pillow that was often damp and salt to my whispering lips with childish tears. And I added...
H. G. Wells
But when from a long distant past nothing subsits, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered, taste and smell alone, more fragile but more than enduring, more immaterial, more persistent, more faithful, remain poised for a long time, like souls, remembering, waiting, and hoping, amid the ruins of all the rest; and bear unflinchingly, in the tiny and almost impalpable drop of their essence, the vast structure of recollection.
Marcel Proust