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Where Quotes (page 59)

We have one of those conversations where every thing clicks, meshes, corresponds, locks, where even our pauses, even our punctuation marks, seem to be nodding in agreement. Nick Hornby
We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way, begin no day where we have ended another day; and no sunrise finds us where sunset left us. Khalil Gibran
I wonder where she came from, I wonder where she's gotta go. Who's to say she's singleand who's to say she's on her own... Girls like that don't sleep alone Herbie Hancock
William Shakespeare quote: "For where thou art, there is the world itself, and where thou..."
For where thou art, there is the world itself, and where thou art not, desolation. William Shakespeare
Over and over I feel as if my characters know who they are, and what happens to them, and where they have been and where they will go, and what they are capable of doing, but they need me to write it down for them because their handwriting is so bad. Anne Lamott
It is necessary ... for a man to go away by himself ... to sit on a rock ... and ask, 'Who am I, where have I been, and where am I going? Carl Sandburg
Go where the pleasure is in your writing. Go where the pain is. Write the book you would like to read. Write the book you have been trying to find but have not found. But write. And remember, there are no rules for our profession. Ignore rules. Ignore what I say here if it doesn't help you. Do it your own way. Every writer knows fear and discouragement. Just write. The world is crying for new writing. It is crying for fresh and original voices and new characters and new stories. If you won't... Anne Rice
Noboru Wataya is a person who belongs to a world that is the exact opposite of yours... In a world where you are losing everything, Mr. Okada, Noboru Wataya is gaining everything. In a world where you are rejected, he is accepted. And the opposite is just as true. Which is why he hates you so intensely. Haruki Murakami
The Lost Tribe. How long, how long must I regret? I never found my people yet; I go about, but cannot find The blood-relations of the mind. Through my little sphere I range, And though I wither do not change; Must not change a jot, lest they Should not know me on my way. Sometimes I think when I am dead They will come about my bed, For my people well do know When to come and when to go. I know not why I am alone, Nor where my wandering tribe is gone, But be they few, or be they far, Would I... Ruth Pitter
Then that little man in black there, he says women can't have as much rights as men, 'cause Christ wasn't a woman! Where did your Christ come from? Where did Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had nothing to do with Him. Sojourner Truth
I once lay in awhite hospitalfor the dying and the dyingself, where some god pissed a rain ofreason to make things growonly to die, where on my knees. I prayed for LIGHT, I prayed for l*i*g*h*t, and prayingcrawled like a blind slug into thewebwhere threads of wind stuck against my mindand I died of pityfor Man, for myself, on a cross without nails, watching in fear asthe pig belches in his sty, farts, blinks and eats. Charles Bukowski
Two households, both alike in dignity. In fair Verona, where we lay our scene. From ancient grudge break to new mutiny. Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes. A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life Whose misadventured piteous overthrows. Do with their death bury their parents' strife. William Shakespeare
My God! The English language is a form of communication! Conversation isn't just crossfire where you shoot and get shot at! Where you've got to duck for your life and aim to kill! Words aren't only bombs and bullets —no, they're little gifts, containing meanings! Philip Roth
I said to him, "Shall I tell you where the men are who believe most in themselves? For I can tell you. I know of men who believe in themselves more colossally than Napoleon or Caesar. I know where flames the fixed star of certainty and success. I can guide you to the thrones of the Super-men. The men who really believe in themselves are all in lunatic asylums. Gilbert K. Chesterton
It was getting dark by the time I went out, and nobody who knows the country will need to be told how black is the darkness of a November night under high laurel bushes and yew-trees. I walked into the heart of the shrubberies two or three times, not seeing a step before me, till I came out upon the broader carriage-road, where the trees opened a little, and there was a faint grey glimmer of sky visible, under which the great limes and elms stood darkling like ghosts; but it grew black again... Margaret Oliphant

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