Thy Quotes (page 661)
Elevator buttons and morning air, The stranger's silence makes me want to take the stairs, If you were here we'd laugh about theirvacant stares, but right nowmy time is theirs. Seems like there's always someone who disapproves, We'll judge it like they know about me and you, And the verdict comes from those with nothing else to do, the jury's off, But my choice is you, So don't you worry your pretty little mind, People throw rocks at things that shine, And life makes love look hard, The...
Taylor Swift
I didn't like the endless gossiping or the constant complaints that they were victims of external factors. Somalis never said "Sorry" or "I made a mistake" or "I don't know": they invented excuses. All these group strategies to avoid confronting reality depressed me. Reality is not easy, but all this make-believe doesn't make it easier.
Ayaan Hirsi Ali
![Rabindranath Tagore quote: "Ah, thou hast made my heart captive in the endless meshes of..."](/pic/339634/600x316/quotation-rabindranath-tagore-ah-thou-hast-made-my-heart-captive-in-the.jpg)
![Wendell Berry quote: "Some nights in the midst of this loneliness I swung among the..."](/pic/339631/600x316/quotation-wendell-berry-some-nights-in-the-midst-of-this-loneliness-i.jpg)
Everyone, he thought, must have adored her; all men assuredly must have coveted her. She seemed but the more beautiful to him for this; he was seized with a lasting, furious desire for her, that inflamed his despair, and that was boudless, because it was now unrealisable. To please her, as if she were still living, he adopted her predilections, her ideas; he bought patent leather boots and took to wearing white cravats. He put cosmetics on his moustache, and, like her, signed notes of hand....
Gustave Flaubert
The longer I am a writer--so long now that my writing finger is periodically numb--the better I understand what writing is; what its function is; what it is supposed to do. I learn that the writer's pen is a microphone held up to the mouths of ancestors and even stones of long ago. That once given permission by the writer--a fool, and so why should one fear?--horses, dogs, rivers, and, yes, chickens can step forward and expound on their lives. The magic of this is not so much in the power of...
Alice Walker
I suddenly became strangely inebriated. The external worldbecame changed as in a dream. Objects appeared to gain inrelief; they assumed unusual dimensions; and colors became more glowing. Even self-perception and the sense of time were changed. When theeyes were closed, colored pictures flashed past in a quickly changingkaleidoscope. After a few hours, the not unpleasant inebriation, which had been experienced whilst I was fully conscious, disappeared. what had caused this condition?
Albert Hofmann
Marketing jingles from every angle lure patrons to turn our backs on our locally owned stores, restaurants, and farms. And nobody considers that unpatriotic. This appears to aggravate Tod Murphy. "We have the illusion of consumer freedom, but we've sacrificed our community life for the pleasure of purchasing lots of cheap stuff. Making and moving all that stuff can be so destructive: child labor in foreign lands, acid rain in the Northeast, depleted farmland, communities where the big...
Barbara Kingsolver
Jude continued his walk homeward alone, pondering so deeply that he forgot to feel timid. He suddenly grew older. It had been the yearning of his heart to find something to anchor on, to cling to—for some place which he could call admirable. Should he find that place in this city if he could get there? Would it be a spot in which, without fear of farmers, or hindrance, or ridicule, he could watch and wait, and set himself to some mighty undertaking like the men of old of whom he had heard? As...
Thomas Hardy
Everyone carries a room about inside him. This fact can even be proved by means of the sense of hearing. If someone walks fast and one pricks up one’s ears and listens, say in the night, when everything round about is quiet, one hears, for instance, the rattling of a mirror not quite firmly fastened to the wall.
Franz Kafka