Rested Quotes (page 84)
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No, thought Oedipa, sad. As if their home cemetery in some way still did exist, in a land where you could somehow walk, and not need the East San Narciso Freeway, and bones still could rest in peace, nourishing ghosts of dandelions, no one to plow them up. As if the dead really do persist, even in a bottle of wine.
Thomas Pynchon
There must be more equality established in society, or morality will never gain ground, and this virtuous equakity will not rest firmly even when founded on a rock, if one half of mankind be chained to its bottom by fate, for they will be continually undermining it through ignorance or pride
Mary Wollstonecraft
For many years I've been ashamed, mortally ashamed, of having been, even with the best intentions, even at many removes, a murderer in my turn. As time went on I merely learned that even those who were better than the rest could not keep themselves nowadays from killing or letting others kill, because such is the logic by which they live; and that we can't stir a finger in this world without the risk of bringing death to somebody.
Albert Camus
She sleeps: her breathings are not heard. In palace chambers far apart. The fragrant tresses are not stirr'd. That lie upon her charmed heart. She sleeps: on either hand upswells. The gold-fringed pillow lightly prest: She sleeps, nor dreams, but ever dwells. A perfect form in perfect rest.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The supreme question about a work of art is out of how deep a life does it spring. Paintings of Moreau are paintings of ideas. The deepest poetry of Shelley, the words of Hamlet bring our mind into contact with the eternal wisdom; Plato's world of ideas. All the rest is the speculation of schoolboys for schoolboys.
James Joyce
It only takes one mistake,' the Dan Banyan guy says, 'and nothing else you ever do will matter.' With his empty hand, he takes one of my hands. His fingers feel hot, fever-hot, and pounding with his heartbeats. He turns my hand palm-up saying, 'No matter how hard you work or how smart you become, you'll always be known for that one poor choice.' He sets the blue pill on my palm, saying, 'Do that one wrong thing- and you'll be dead for the rest of your life.
Chuck Palahniuk
Now, in this blank of things, a harmony, Home-felt, and home-created, comes to heal. That grief for which the senses still supply Fresh food; for only then, when memory. Is hushed, am I at rest. My Friends! restrain those busy cares that would allay my pain; Oh! Leave me to myself, nor let me feel. The officious touch that makes me droop again.
William Wordsworth