Without Quotes (page 237)
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For time and eternity there have been fathers like Nathan who simply can see no way to have a daughter but to own her like a plot of land. To work her, plow her under, rain down a dreadful poison upon her. Miraculously, it causes these girls to grow. They elongate on the pale slender stalks of their longing, like sunflowers with heavy heads. You can shield them with your body and soul, trying to absorb that awful rain, but they'll still move toward him. Without cease they'll bend to his...
Barbara Kingsolver
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
I'm in no position to hand down any advice," he said, "but there's a rule I follow when I don't know what to do."A rule?"If you have to choose between something that has form and something that doesn't, go for the one without form. That's my rule. Whenever I run into a wall I follow that rule, and it always works out. Even if it's hard going at the time.
Haruki Murakami
Through this atmosphere of torrid splendor moved wan beings as richly upholstered as the furniture, beings without definite pursuits or permanent relations, who drifted on a languid tide of curiosity... Somewhere behind them, in the background of their lives there was doubtless a real past, yet they had no more real existence than the poet's shades in limbo.
Edith Wharton
i have beenused something fierce in my time buti am no bum sport archyi am a free spirit archy ilook on myself as beingquite a romantic character oh thequeens i have been and the swell feeds i have atea cockroach which you areand a poet which you used to bearchy couldn t understandmy feelings at having comedown to this i havehad bids to elegant feeds where poetsand cockroaches wouldneither one be mentioned without alaugh archy i have hadadventures but ihave never been an adventuress
Don Marquis
...a book is a delicate friend, a white bird, an exquisite being, afraid of water.Darling things! Afraid of water, of fire, They shiver in the wind. Clumsy, crude human fingers leave bruises on them that'll never fade! Never!Some people touch books without washing their hands!Some underline things in ink!Some even tear pages out!
Tatyana Tolstaya
He never passed any kind of moral judgement on the various things that had been done to him in the course of his career not did he try to explain them. Much that was unjust and still more that was simply unintelligble seemed to be accepted, not only without resentment, but with a certain satisfaction provided only that is was striking.
C. S. Lewis
We regard the photograph, the picture on our wall, as the object itself (the man, landscape, and so on) depicted there. This need not have been so. We could easily imagine people who did not have this relation to such pictures. Who, for example, would be repelled by photographs, because a face without color and even perhaps a face in reduced proportions struck them as inhuman.
Ludwig Wittgenstein