Weighted Quotes (page 19)
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For, confronted with morality (especially Christian, or unconditional, morality), life must continually and inevitably be in the wrong, because life is something essentially amoral--and eventually, crushed by the weight of contempt and the eternal No, life must then be felt to be unworthy of desire and altogether worthless.
Friedrich Nietzsche
I finished my soup and bread and helped myself to a handful of cookies from the cookie jar, glancing at Morelli, wondering at his lean body. He’d eaten two bowls of soup, half a loaf of bread slathered in butter, and seven cookies. I’d counted.
He saw me staring and raised his eyebrows in silent question.
“I suppose you work out,” I said, mores statement than question.
“I run when I can. Do some weights.” He grinned. “Morelli men have good metabolisms.”
Life was a bitch.
Janet Evanovich
When they took a young man into Tellson's London house, they hid him somewhere till he was old. They kept him in a dark place, like a cheese, until he had the full Tellson flavour and blue-mould upon him. Then only was he permitted to be seen, spectacularly poring over large books, and casting his breeches and gaiters into the general weight of the establishment.
Charles Dickens
And yet all loneliness, angers, hatreds, envies, and itchings that it contains, if rolled into one single experience and put into the scale against the least moment of the joy that is felt by the least in Heaven, would have no weight that could be registered at all. Bad cannot succeed even in being bad as truly as good is good.
C. S. Lewis
Because bread was so important, the laws governing its purity were strict and the punishment severe. A baker who cheated his customers could be fined 10 per loaf sold, or made to do a month's hard labor in prison. For a time, transportation to Australia was seriously considered for malfeasant bakers. This was a matter of real concern for bakers because every loaf of bread loses weight in baking through evaporation, so it is easy to blunder accidentally. For that reason, bakers sometimes...
Bill Bryson
[He]Spoke and rose to full height, sword in air, Then cleft the man's brow square between the temples. Cutting his head in two -- a dreadful gash. Between the cheeks all beardless. Earth resounded. Quivering at the great shock of his weight. As he went tumbling down in all his armor, Drenched with blood and brains; in equal halves. His head hung this and that way from his shoulders.
Virgil
For my omniscience paid I toll
In infinite remorse of soul.
All sin was of my sinning, all
Atoning mine, and mine the gall
Of all regret. Mine was the weight
Of every brooded wrong, the hate
That stood behind each envious thrust,
Mine every greed, mine every lust.
And all the while for every grief,
Each suffering, I craved relief
With individual desire, –
Craved all in vain! And felt fierce fire
About a thousand people crawl;
Perished with each, — then mourned for all!
Edna St. Vincent Millay