Whiteness Quotes (page 50)
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Kools and Newports were for black people and lower-class whites. Camels were for procrastinators, those who wrote bad poetry, and those who put off writing bad poetry. Merits were for sex addicts, Salems were for alcoholics, and Mores were for people who considered themselves to be outrageous but really weren't.
David Sedaris
PIPPIN: I didn't think it would end this way.
GANDALF: End? No, the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path, one that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it.
PIPPIN: What? Gandalf? See what?
GANDALF: White shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise.
PIPPIN: Well, that isn't so bad.
GANDALF: No. No, it isn't.
J. R. R. Tolkien
Then there was the church and the villagers on the sidewalks, the red geraniums on the graves in the cemetery, Perez fainting (he crumpled over like a rag doll), the blood-red earth spilling over Maman's casket, the white flesh of the roots mixed in with it, more people, voices, the village, waiting in front of a cafe, the incessant drone of the motor, and my joy when the bus entered the nest of lights that was Algiers and I knew I was going to go to bed and sleep for twelve hours.
Albert Camus
This is something about your father?'
'This is something about you." Frank put his hand on my shoulder and he looked me in the eye. The effect was dismaying. Frank meant to inspire camaraderie, but his head looked to me like a bizarre little owl, blinded by light and perched on a tall white post.
'Maybe you'd better come to the point.
Kurt Vonnegut
The snail pushes through a greennight, for the grass is heavywith water and meets overthe bright path he makes, where rain has darkened the earth's dark. Hemoves in a wood of desire, pale antlers barely stirringas he hunts. I cannot tellwhat power is at work, drenched therewith purpose, knowing nothing. What is a snail's fury? All. I think is that if later. I parted the blades abovethe tunnel and saw the thintrail of broken white acrosslitter, I would never haveimagined the slow passionto...
Thom Gunn
The day was gone, the twilight was gone, and the snow was invisible as I came down to the side of the lake. Only the moon, white and shining, was in the sky, like a woman glorying in her own loveliness as she loiters superbly to the gaze of all the world, looking sometimes through the fringe of dark olive leaves, sometimes looking at her own superb, quivering body, wholly naked in the water of the lake.
David Herbert Lawrence
He who knows the masculine but keeps to the feminine, Becomes the ravine of the world. Being the ravine of the world, He dwells in constant virtue, He returns to the state of the babe. He who knows the white but keeps to the black, Becomes the model of the world. Being the model of the world, He rests in constant virtue, He returns to the infinite. He who knows glory but keeps to disgrace, Becomes the valley of the world. Being the valley of the world, He finds contentment in constant virtue,...
Lao Tzu
Far away on the path we saw Sir Henry looking back, his face white in the moonlight, his hands raised in horror, glaring helplessly at the frightful thing which was hunting him down. But that cry of pain from the hound had blown all our fears to the winds. If he was vulnerable he was mortal, and if we could wound him we could kill him. Never have I seen a man run as Holmes ran that night.
Arthur Conan Doyle
She knows, now, absolutely, hearing the white noise that is London, that Damien's theory of jet lag is correct: that her mortal soul is leagues behind her, being reeled in on some ghostly umbilical down the vanished wake of the plane that brought her here, hundreds of thousands of feet above the Atlantic. Souls can't move that quickly, and are left behind, and must be awaited, upon arrival, like lost luggage.
William Gibson
With an evening coat and a white tie, as you told me once, anybody, even a stock-broker, can gain a reputation for being civilized. Well, after I had been in the room about ten minutes, talking to huge overdressed dowagers and tedious academicians, I suddenly became conscious that some one was looking at me.
Oscar Wilde