Quotes by Authors - Page 1047

Most of the other visitors were chained to their audio guides, looking only at what their little headsets told them was worth seeing.

Death with dignity" is our society's expression of the uni­versal yearning to achieve a graceful triumph over the stark and often repugnant finality of life's last sputterings. But the fact is, death is not a confrontation. It is simply an event in the sequence of nature's ongoing rhythms. Not death but disease is the real enemy, disease the malign force that requires confron­tation. Death is the surcease that comes when the exhausting bat­tle has been lost. Even the confrontation with disease should be approached with the realization that many of the sicknesses of our species are simply conveyances for the inexorable journey by which each of us is returned to the same state of physical, and perhaps spiritual, nonexistence from which we emerged at conception. Every triumph over some major pathology, no matter how ringing the victory, is only a reprieve from the inevitable end.

Never would I have a man saying what or who were best for me, and that were all there were to it.

Some choices are awful even when they're the right ones.

When you unleash your divine talents to produce better articles, people will pay for them and that creates wealth for you. Spend time well!

We can take persecution because we know the purpose behind it. The purpose is to glorify God.

Sports teach us the value of facing yourself and others honestly. You can only grow if you let go of denial and embrace what is real and true.

I'll say this, Arik: the old man's warning proved to be true - things are not always what they seem. She was no young lady -" "If it's the demon you speak of," interjected Rith, as she stepped back into the ruin, Lyssa following after, "she was not even a toothless old hag.

If you have a story that seems worth telling, and you think you can tell it worthily, then the thing for you to do is to tell it, regardless of whether it has to do with sex, sailors or mounted policemen.

In 1930, the death rate for Milwaukee’s blacks was nearly 60 percent higher than the citywide rate, due in large part to poor housing conditions.

How I wish I could undo it all … take it all back…All those years I spent unhappy with him …. when I should have been looking for you.

I saw love in your smile and I recognized it for the first time in my life. But you had a plane to catch and I was already home.

That’s the thing about depression. When I feel it deeply, I don’t want to let it go. It becomes a comfort. I want to cloak myself under its heavy weight and breathe it into my lungs. I want to nurture it, grow it, cultivate it. It’s mine. I want to check out with it, drift asleep wrapped in its arms and not wake up for a long, long time.

God respects me when I work but loves me when I sing.

My momma always said, 'You and Elvis are pretty good, but y'all ain't no Chuck Berry.

The task of being right is a task the father perfects over time.

I learned in therapy the word "No" is a complete sentence.

Because if you've found meaning in your life, you don't want to go back. You want to go forward.

Jimmy Murray, you are an ass,' said Aunt Ruth, angrily.'Well, we're cousins,' agreed Cousin Jimmy pleasantly.

I want to be the kind of boy you are, thought Bean. But I don’t want to go through what you’ve been through to get there.

When gossip starts, be deaf.

Some day soon, perhaps in forty years, there will be no one alive who has ever known me. That's when I will be truly dead - when I exist in no one's memory. I thought a lot about how someone very old is the last living individual to have known some person or cluster of people. When that person dies, the whole cluster dies,too, vanishes from the living memory. I wonder who that person will be for me. Whose death will make me truly dead?

Feeling the slight tremor of his fingers against her skin, Daisy was emboldened to remark, “I’ve never been attracted to tall men before. But you make me feel—” “If you don’t keep quiet,” he interrupted curtly, “I’m going to strangle you.” Daisy felt silent, listening to the rhythm of his breath as it turned deeper, less controlled. By contrast his fingers became more certain in their task, working along the row of pearls until her dress gaped open and the sleeves slipped from her shoulders. “Where is it?” he asked. “The key?”His tone was deadly. “Yes, Daisy. The key.” “It fell inside my corset. Which means… I’ll have to take that off too.” There was no reaction to the statement, no sound or movement. Daisy twisted to glance at Matthew. He seemed dazed. His eyes looked unnaturally blue against the flush on his face. She realized he was occupied with a savage inner battle to keep from touching her. Feeling hot and prickly with embarrassment, Daisy pulled her arms completely out of her sleeves. She worked the dress over her hips, wriggling out of the filmy white layers, letting them slide to the floor in a heap. Matthew stared at the discarded dress as if it were some kind of exotic fauna he had never seen before. Slowly his eyes returned to Daisy, and an incoherent protest came from his throat as she began to unhook her corset. She felt shy and wicked, undressing in front of him. But she was encouraged by the way he seemed unable to tear his gaze from each newly revealed inch of pale skin. When the last metal hook came apart, she tossed the web of lace and stays to the floor. All that remained over her breasts was a crumpled chemise. The key had dropped into her lap. Closing her fingers around the metal object, she risked a cautious glance at Matthew. His eyes were closed, his forehead scored with furrows of pained concentration. “This isn’t going to happen,” he said, more to himself than to her. Daisy leaned forward to tuck the key into his coat pocket. Gripping the hem of her chemise, she stripped it over her head. A tingling shock chased over her naked upper body. She was so nervous that her teeth had begun to chatter. “I just took my chemise off,” she said. “Don’t you want to look?” “No.” But his eyes had opened, and his gaze found her small, pink-tipped breasts, and the breath hissed through his clenched teeth. He sat without moving, staring at her as she untied his cravat and unbuttoned the layers of his waistcoat and shirt. She blushed everywhere but continued doggedly, rising to her knees to tug the coat from his shoulders. He moved like a dreamer, slowly pulling his arms from the coat sleeves and waistcoat. Daisy pushed his shirt open with awkward determination, her gaze drinking in the sight of his chest and torso. His skin gleamed like heavy satin, stretched taut over broad expanses of muscle. She touched the powerful vault of his ribs, trailing her fingertips to the rippled tautness of his midriff. Suddenly Matthew caught her hand, seemingly undecided whether to push it away or press it closer. Her fingers curled over his. She stared into his dilated blue eyes. “Matthew,” she whispered. “I’m here. I’m yours. I want to do everything you’ve ever imagined doing with me.” He stopped breathing. His will foundered and collapsed, and suddenly nothing mattered except the demands of a desire that had been denied too long. With a rough groan of surrender, he lifted her onto his lap.

Regardless of how black the page, he had always managed to turn it and move on to a new chapter in his life.

If God came in and said "I want you to be happy for the rest of your life " what would you do?

I just find it interesting that kids apparently used to cry when Bambi's mother died. George and I both held our breaths, and then cheered when she didn't reanimate and try to eat her son.

so many people would be afraid to look in the mirror if the saw their character and not their face…it would be like american horror story.

Kindness is going out of your way to perform favors regarded as wonderful by the recipient.

I love you enough to tell you the truth whether you want to hear it or not, but what you do afterward is your choice alone.

They rarely discovered a star red as a distant crime or a star-fish.

Who has stopped worshiping us?""Everyone in the old world," April said little harshly. "But of course they have, young woman. We left, didn't we? We came to Everworld. How can you expect people to worship a God they can't see from time to time?""Yeah April," Jalil prodded, failing to suppress a smirk. "How can you?

Things have a way of working out. The answers are there if we look for them. I should have learned by now that there is no one else that can give you advice or tell you what the right choice is, you need to trust your intuition, and know that when it doesn't feel right, you need to make a change.

If communication is lost everything is lost in a relationship.

At the different stages of recognition, reflection, and redress, practicing compassion provides potentially world-saving opportunities which otherwise likely would not exist.

Hey, it's not a problem," she says, still smiling at me. "If you feel bad about it, pay me in cocoa and I'll do it with you all night if you want."Craig bursts out laughing and Maria looks up at him confused. I groan and press my face into my good hand. Even in college, we're still just a bunch of children sometimes."What's so... eew!" gasps Maria as she finally gets it. Her face turns red as she covers her mouth with her hands to stifle her giggling.

Then, left alone, shivering, I happened to glance up. I stood, I froze, blinking up through the drift, the drift, the silent drift of blinding snow. I saw the high hotel windows, the lights, the shadows.What's it like up there? I thought. Are fires lit? Is it warm as breath? Who are all those people? Are they drinking? Are they happy?Do they even know I'm HERE?

Heartbreak is a loss. Divorce is a piece of paper.

You want me.”“Want does not begin to describe the way I feel about you,” his low voice promised. “Want is nothing compared with the level of desire I have. With the desperation I feel. With the way I long for you.

Oh for Christ sakes. Ay carrumba, chimichanga. I have no idea what you’re saying, but shut your pretty pie hole.

No wonder we cannot appreciate the really central Kafka joke: that the horrific struggle to establish a human self results in a self whose humanity is inseparable from the horrific struggle. That our endless and impossible journey toward home is in fact our home.

The way you deliver the words you say becomes your “vocal image. This "vocal image" can make or break your first impressions, impact your communication, and determine how people respond to you.

I've found that what most people call luck is often little more than raw talent combined with the ability to make the most of opportunities. (Talon Karrde)

People attempt to create association b/n you and your values. Oh, Mary- the girl who is caring; you mean the company with quality products?

LIKING WHAT YOU DO IS PLEASURE, DOING WHAT YOU LIKE IS PASSION.

She said that everything that disappeared from our side went over to theirs, where they kept living normal lives, waiting for the things still lingering with us to join them, and make the world whole once more.

In some literature, I’ve read, weather is used as a metaphor. The darker and stormier the weather outside the more diabolical the deeds done. When the clouds roll away, however, the rain has washed away all the blood in the streets and the world is clean and new again, as if all the violence and destruction of the storm served a divine purpose.

Nobody has things just as he would like them. The thing to do is to make a success with what material I have. It is a sheer waste of time and soul-power to imagine what I would do if things were different. They are not different.

He would say her name over and over until it devolved into meaningless sounds - mah REI kuh, mah REI kuh - it became an entry in a dictionary of loneliness.

I wanted to throw off the chains that bound me and give my entire being to someone. I wanted to know what it felt like to love another so much that the whole world came crashing down around me when it ended. I wanted obsession. I wanted madness. I wanted something all-consuming. And now that I realized it, I didn’t think that I would ever be the same again. And that terrified me.

Please, baby, you had to know the Devil would be well endowed.

Being immortal is grand and all but I don't really remember half of what I did. The human brain was not made to hold this much information. So it doesn't.

And you never fall behind?”“Of course I do. But I always feel guilty when that happens. After all, my journal is the oldest and most loyal friend I have. And it never interrupts me when I’m speaking,” he added, with a boyish grin.

Love heals the soul and cures the mind.

I hate the notion of a secret recipe. Recipes are by nature derivative and meant to be shared - that is how they improve, are changed, how new ideas are formed. To stop a recipe in it's tracks, to label it "secret" just seems mean.

The media is the right arm of anarchy.

The safest day at the Melody is St. Paddy's," adds another Mardi Gras girl. "All the cops are out vomiting at the parade.

There's looking and there's looking. When some men look at you it's a greasy thing. It makes you want to have a bath. With other men it's nice. It helps you know you're beautiful.

[W]e can calculate our way into regions of miraculous improbability far greater than we can imagine as plausible. Let's look at this matter of what we think is plausible. What we can imagine as plausible is a narrow band in the middle of a much broader spectrum of what is actually possible. Sometimes it is narrower than what is actually there. There is a good analogy with light. Our eyes are built to cope with a narrow band of electromagnetic frequencies (the ones we call light), somewhere in the middle of the spectrum from long radio waves at one end to short X-rays at the other. We can't see the rays outside the narrow light band, but we can do calculations about them, and we can build instruments to detect them. In the same way, we know that the scales of size and time extend in both directions far outside the realm of what we can visualize. Our minds can't cope with the large distances that astronomy deals in or with the small distances that atomic physics deals in, but we can represent those distances in mathematical symbols. Our minds can't imagine a time span as short as a picosecond, but we can do calculations about picoseconds, and we can build computers that can complete calculations within picoseconds. Our minds can't imagine a timespan as long as a million years, let alone the thousands of millions of years that geologists routinely compute. Just as our eyes can see only that narrow band of electromagnetic frequencies that natural selection equipped our ancestors to see, so our brains are built to cope with narrow bands of sizes and times. Presumably there was no need for our ancestors to cope with sizes and times outside the narrow range of everyday practicality, so our brains never evolved the capacity to imagine them. It is probably significant that our own body size of a few feet is roughly in the middle of the range of sizes we can imagine. And our own lifetime of a few decades is roughly in the middle of the range of times we can imagine.

Intuitions come first, strategic reasoning second.

Religious unity and religious tolerance are not the same thing. Unity doesn’t come merely through tolerance. You don’t need to tolerate people from other religions. It is time you start loving them. Toleration may make you a decent person, but it is love that makes you a true human being.