Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
Though the human heart may have to pause for rest when climbing the heights of affection it rarely stops on the slippery slope of hatred.
Does not any limit imposed upon one inspire a desire to go beyond it? Does not our keenest suffering arise when our free will is crossed?
For the professors in the academy, for the humanities generally, misery is more amenable to analysis: happiness is a harder nut to crack.
The best way to tell people about climate change is through non-fiction. There's a vast literature of outstanding writing on the subject.
Oh, I've become immune to the Booker. I think we need something a little more like the Pulitzer prize, where there isn't this great race.
« He squeezed his hands into fists. I picked up a grapefruit-sized rock and handed it to him. It went flying. Home run, Beast Lord style.
Good luck to progressive candidates in U.S. Senate elections against the usual rich, white, racist, women-hating pricks they run against.
Yesterday one has wished, to-day one attains the madly longed-for object, and to-morrow one will blush to think that one ever desired it.
In a matriarchy men should be encouraged to take it easy, for most women prefer live husbands to blocks of shares and seats on the board.
Music was a thing of the soul — a rose-lipped shell that murmured of the eternal sea — a strange bird singing the songs of another shore.
Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher. There was just that minor drawback of him having Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head!
Promise me you’ll look after yourself … stay out of trouble …’ ‘I always do, Mrs Weasley,’ said Harry. ‘I like a quiet life, you know me.
Ron, we're supposed to show the first years where to go!" "Oh yeah," said Ron, who had obviously forgotten. "Hey -- hey you lot! Midgets!
Sometimes, if she simply remained quiet, and let the inadequacy of his excuses reverberate on the air, he became ashamed and backtracked.
He raised his brows. "You're drunk." "Am not!" He gave me a bland look. "A drunk's famous last words before they fall flat on their face.
I'm not sure what it is that I want, but I feel it deep in the pit of my stomach. It's there sitting dormant. I'll know it when I see it.
When she orgasmed, she said his name. Twice. And didn’t it make him glad that even though he had no voice, his ears worked just fine. –JM
But then, gifts are like beauty, are they not. It is in the eye of the recipient that they find their seat, not in the hand of the giver.
There was both love and despair in his voice. He was truly handicapped when it came to emotions, and falling in love hadn't changed that.
Can you drive any faster?" Tohr demanded. "I got the pedal to the medal" The angel looked back. "And I don't care what I have to mow over
And there in the blue air I saw for the first time, far off, the great snowy tops of the Rocky Mountains. I had to get to Denver at once.
He must have smiled at me, though I don't really know, but I don't like to think that I would love someone who hadn't first smiled at me.
When once I got to America I fell in love with hippie culture, and I've always wanted to live in the country and grow organic vegetables.
I don't have any home. Everyone I grew up with, my family, are all dead. So I feel kind of like a ghost. I'm more interested in the past.
I take no leave of you, Miss Bennet: I send no compliments to your mother. You deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased.
Before I write a novel, images float around in my head that work like icons - they are meaningless in themselves, but serve as reminders.
Eavesdrop and write it down from memory - gives you a stronger sense of how people talk and what their concerns are. I love to eavesdrop!
If death is this brilliant slide, this high, fine music felt as pure vibration, this plunging float in wind and silence, it's not so bad.
Water is the one substance from which the earth can conceal nothing; it sucks out its innermost secrets and brings them to our very lips.
Would you like a whiskey?' I say. 'I've got some.' (That's original. I bet nobody's ever thought of that way of bridging the gap before.)
I want the reader to be in the shoes of everyday people who are facing incredible dangers and wonder if they would make the same choices.
It's often said that a traumatic experience early in life marks a person forever, pulls her out of line, saying, "Stay there. Don't move.
I am grateful to the activists and women who created the Black Lives Matter movement because I feel like they let me know I wasn't crazy.
I have this fantasy. I'm walking past a bookshop and I click my fingers and all my books go blank. So I can start again and get it right.
For lovers, touch is metamorphosis. All the parts of their bodies seem to change, and they seem to become something different and better.
I love making, I love doing. I love being to the full, I love everything which is not sitting and watching and copying and dead at heart.
I'm a worst-case scenario person. I'm only interested in a story because I kind of go, like a magnet, to the worst thing that can happen.
Creativity is merely a plus name for regular activity. Any activity becomes creative when the doer cares about doing it right, or better.
You're going to feel uncomfortable in your new world for a bit. It always does feel strange to be knocked out of your comfort zone.
Unless you sell millions, I think it's very hard as a writer not to feel anxious about what you put out. I always feel I could do better.
But at the same time, I have trouble keeping things out of books, which is why I don't write short stories because they turn into novels.
Kenneth Branagh. There was a time in my life when people would tell me constantly that I look like him. I could do a lot worse than that.
Birds were like dinosaurs' better selves. They had short lives and long summers. We all should be so lucky as to leave behind such heirs.
I'm not too embarrassed to say I'm the definition of the target audience. This is my generation, the one of exalting music in album form.
To the questioning glance of love, as it flashes out and then conceals itself, speech has no reply; the smile, the kiss, the sigh answer.
Death to all modifiers, he declared one day, and out of every letter that passed through his hands went every adverb and every adjective.
It is a tragedy of the world that no one knows what he doesn't know - the less a man knows, the more sure it is that he knows everything.
I applaud the courage of he who accepts each and every one of the laws of a game he did not invent and was not asked if he wanted to play
The sea is only the embodiment of a supernatural and wonderful existence. It is nothing but love and emotion; it is the 'Living Infinite.
The old adage is, 'Write what you know.' But if you only do that, your work becomes claustrophobic. I say, 'Write what you want to know.'