Something Quotes (page 52)
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One can never really give a proof of the reality of anything; reality is not something open to proof, it is something established. It is established just because proof is not enough. It is this characteristic of language, at once indispensable and inadequate, which shows the reality of the external world. Most people hardly ever realize this, because it is rare that the very same man thinks and puts his thought into action.
Simone Weil
All I ask is this: Do something. Try something. Speaking out, showing up, writing a letter, a check, a strongly worded e-mail. Pick a cause – there are few unworthy ones. And nudge yourself past the brink of tacit support to action. Once a month, once a year, or just once...Even just learning enough about a subject so you can speak against an opponent eloquently makes you an unusual personage. Start with that. Any one of you would have cried out, would have intervened, had you been in that...
Joss Whedon
It's a lovely day today. So whatever you've got to do. You've got a lovely day to do it in, that's true. And I hope whatever you've got to do. Is something that can be done by two. For I'd really like to stay. It's a lovely day today. And whatever you've got to do. I'd be so happy to be doing it with you. But if you've got something that must be done. And it can only be done by one. There is nothing more to say. Except it's a lovely day for saying. It's a lovely day!
Irving Berlin
I am jealous of everything whose beauty does not die. I am jealous of the portrait you have painted of me. Why should it keep what I must lose? Every moment that passes takes something from me and gives something to it. Oh, if it were only the other way! If the picture could change, and I could be always what I am now! Why did you paint it? It will mock me some day—mock me horribly!
Oscar Wilde
I was not allowed to think of him. That was something I tried to be very strict about. Of course I slipped; I was only human. But I was getting better, and so the pain was something I could avoid for days at a time now. The trade-off was the never-ending numbness. Between pain and nothing, I'd chosen nothing.
Stephenie Meyer
Water beaded across her shoulders, shining like drops of milk, and her breasts swayed in the currents. It was the kind of vision you never really get over. I couldn’t help it, I wanted to go and lick the milk beads from her shoulders. I opened my mouth. I wanted something. Something, I didn’t know what. Mother, forgive.
Sue Monk Kidd
And Miriam also refused to be approached. She was afraid of being set at nought, as by her own brothers. The girl was romantic in her soul. Everywhere was a Walter Scott heroine being loved by men with helmets or with plumes in their caps. She herself was something of a princess turned into a swine-girl in her own imagination. And she was afraid lest this boy, who, nevertheless, looked something like a Walter Scott hero, who could paint and speak French, and knew what algebra meant, and who...
David Herbert Lawrence
you are on the freeway threading through traffic now, moving both towards something and towards nothing at all as you punchthe radio on and get Mozart, which is something, and you will somehowget through the slow days and the busy days and the dulldays and the hateful days and the rare days, all both so delightfuland so disappointing becausewe are all so alike and so different.
Charles Bukowski