Rounded Quotes (page 30)
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![Jean Genet quote: "[Y]ou're in a fog. When you circle round, you watch us live...."](/pic/287267/600x316/quotation-jean-genet-youre-in-a-fog-when-you-circle-round-you-watch.jpg)
What a risk, Reuben thought. I could easily hit him over the head and rob the church of its gold candlesticks. He wondered how often Jim had done this kind of thing, or why Jim's life was such a round of sacrifice and exhausting work, how it was Jim could ladle up soup and corned beef hash every day for people who so often let him down, or go through the same ritual every morning at the altar, as if it really was a miracle when he consecrated the bread and wine and gave out "the Body of...
Anne Rice
I am, O Anxious One. Don't you hear my voice
surging forth with all my earthly feelings?
They yearn so high, that they have sprouted wings
and whitely fly in circles round your face.
My soul, dressed in silence, rises up
and stands alone before you: can't you see?
don't you know that my prayer is growing ripe
upon your vision as upon a tree?
If you are the dreamer, I am what you dream.
But when you want to wake, I am your wish,
and I grow strong with all magnificence
and turn myself into a...
Rainer Maria Rilke
Love was supposed to move mountains, to make the world go round, to be all you need, but it fell
apart at the details. It couldn’t save a single child-not the ones who’d gone to Sterling High that day,
expecting the normal; not Josie Cormier; certainly not Peter. So what was the recipe? Was it love,
mixed with something else for good measure? Luck? Hope? Forgiveness?
Jodi Picoult
Sorrel soup:
"You cut the egg into slices, and you eat it with the green soup. And the mixture of the sharp green acidity and the round comfort of the egg reminds you of something extraordinary and far away.
Of home?
Certainly not, not even for Poles.
Of what then?
...Of survival, perhaps.
John Berger
Hour of Stars (1920)The round silence of night, one note on the staveof the infinite. Ripe with lost poems, I step naked into the street. The blackness riddledby the singing of crickets: sound, that deadwill-o'-the-wisp, that musical lightperceivedby the spirit. A thousand butterfly skeletonssleep within my walls. A wild crowd of young breezesover the river.
Federico Garcia Lorca
Good morning, Eeyore," said Pooh."Good morning, Pooh Bear," said Eeyore gloomily. "If it is a good morning, which I doubt," said he."Why, what's the matter?"Nothing, Pooh Bear, nothing. We can't all, and some of us don't. That's all there is to it."Can't all what?" said Pooh, rubbing his nose."Gaiety. Song-and-dance. Here we go round the mulberry bush.
A. A. Milne
But do you really mean, Sir," said Peter, "that there could be other worlds-all over the place, just round the corner-like that?" "Nothing is more probable," said the Profesor, taking off his spectacles and beginning to polish them, while he muttered to himself, "I wonder what they do teach them at these schools.
C. S. Lewis
By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood, And fired the shot heard round the world. The foe long since in silence slept; Alike the conqueror silent sleeps; And Time the ruined bridge has swept. Down the dark stream which seaward creeps. On this green bank, by this soft stream, We set to-day a votive stone; That memory may their deed redeem, When, like our sires, our sons are gone. Spirit, that made those heroes...
Ralph Waldo Emerson