Quotes by Authors - Page 4983

Then the hard, dry Spaniards came exploring through, greedy and realistic, and their greed was for gold or God. They collected souls as they collected jewels.

The attributes of a great lady may still be found in the rule of the four S's: Sincerity Simplicity Sympathy and Serenity.

Syn didn’t even think twice. He made his way to the end of the bar and lifted the top, coming behind the bar. The two girl bartenders looked at him in shock and Syn flashed his badge again. “Where’s Furious?” he asked, using his authoritative cop tone.“He left,” they said in unison, still looking at him strangely.“Damnit,” Syn hissed and raced out of the pub.He looked anxiously up and down the sidewalk and saw Furious sitting on the bench, head hanging low, waiting on the bus. Even though he had a hoodie pulled up and hanging low over his forehead ... Syn knew it was his ma– He’s not my damn man, he’s just a friend.Syn approached his new friend with all the confidence in the world but wasn’t prepared for the angry, haunted eyes that looked up at him when he slowly removed Furious’ hood. Syn sucked in a hard breath and blew it out slowly before finally deciding to speak. “Furious. Are you okay?”No answer.“Are you hurt?” Syn was really concerned. Furious looked detached, closed in on himself.“Bab–” Shit. “Furi,” Syn quickly corrected. “Please answer me. Look my place is right there.” Syn pointed in the direction of his building. “If you want you can come up and talk. I can take you home later.”It was a few long and very intense minutes that Furious didn’t move or say anything.“We’ll just talk, okay?” Syn tried again.Thanks a lot MARTA. Perfect timing. Just Syn’s luck that the bus pulled up to the curb and the air doors swung open.“Furious, I just want to talk.”“No thanks, Detective.” Furious' voice was so deep and angry, it’d felt like Furi had struck him. Syn swallowed a hard gulp.

You know when you mix butt and Angel in the same sentence, it becomes an insult,” I say and take a big gulp from the can. With his back to me, he says, “Trust me, I would never dream of insulting your butt. I’m sure it’s better than anything I’m cooking out here.

After spending the previous night the way I had, I felt I could afford to lose some of the daytime to sleep.

Life is often a Labyrinth of Passions without exit.

No one likes sarcasm, Miss Cain. I’ve merely delayed my exit to promise you something. You took my straight razor, li’l darlin’. That I view as an unforgivable offense. So when the time comes, when you have served your purpose, I swear to you I’m gonna kill you for free.” And with that, Billy-Ray Sanguine disappeared into the ground. Then he popped his head back up. “Or at least half price.” And he was gone again.

Human brains have three layers of programming. Each layer adds a twist or turn to sexual preferences and tendencies. The first layer is genetic progamming from the inherited genes. The second involves environmental influences that impact genes and their expression. The third level deals with the way we "fill in the blanks" as social and cultural beings. This level can become a feedback loop that influences the inherited genes by influencing with whom we choose to have sex.

L.A. kills people.' Jacaranda said. 'You're lucky you're leaving. You'll be able to write.'She looked paler, going through another depression, smoking in bed in her lilac room. The walls were the color of her veins. She was getting too thin, even for the modeling. . .Jacaranda died last winter when the flowering trees were bare. You couldn't even tell which ones once cried the purple blossoms she named herself after.

Greed is the performance art of the 21st Century.

I was afraid, sheer afraid, and wondered at myself. You see, I've no more pluck than any man of my inches but I'd been about a good bit. I'd seen adventure and heard other fellows talk it over, and I knew you're pretty sure to get out of everything with a whole skin till that last particular time that you don't - so what's the use of grizzling? ("Golden Baby")

If you are in the mountains alone for some time, many days at minimum, & it helps if you are fasting. The forest grows tired of its weariness towards you; it resumes its inner life and allows you to see it. Near dusk the faces in tree bark cease hiding, and stare out at you. The welcoming ones and also the malevolent, open in their curiosity. In your camp at night you are able to pick out a distinct word now and then from the muddled voices in creek water, sometimes an entire sentence of deep import. The ghosts of animals reveal themselves to you without prejudice to your humanity. You see them receding before you as you walk the trail their shapes beautiful and sad.

Your friends will believe in your potential, your enemies will make you live up to it.

You see, I have been at revaluing myself in the last few days. I may have some value to historians because I have destroyed a few things. The builder of your Cathedral is forgotten even now, but I, who burned it, may be remembered for a hundred years or so. And that may mean something or other about mankind.

And the Bastard grant us... in our direst need, the smallest gifts: the nail of the horseshoe, the pin of the axle, the feather at the pivot point, the pebble at the mountain's peak, the kiss in despair, the one right word.

Ravel said. “And I order people around really well. This morning, Tipstaff came over with a cup of tea and I told him no, I don’t want tea I want coffee. That was great. I really asserted my authority.”“Did he go and get you a coffee?”“No, he said he’d already made a pot of tea so I took the tea because, you know he’d already made it, but my authority was still firmly asserted.”Ghastly nodded. “He’ll think twice about making tea again.”“That he will, Ghastly my friend, that he will. What are we looking for, by the way?“Seriously? I gave you the file half an hour ago.”“Yes, you did.”“And did you read it?”“No, I did not.

Too bad guys aren’t like Mr. Potato Head Where you can pick and choose which parts you want. Then we might come up with a guy who meets your standards.

The Lord himself lead the way to the holy heavens.

Be true to who you are. Don't let the world tell you who to be.

Making love was a game of echoes. We had shared memories so many times that when I made love to her, I knew exactly how it felt to be Purslane. I could taste and feel her other lovers and she could taste and feel mine, each experience reaching away like a reflection in a hall of mirrors, diminishing into a kind of carnal background radiation, a sea of sensuous experience. I had been a girl once, then a thousand men and women and all their lovers. The stasis field locked on. The Synchromesh took hold. I hurtled into my own future, while my ship ate space and time.- "House of Suns" by Alastair Reynolds

Here's one prophecy the writer can make - you'll never be rich and you'll probably be poor.

I don't do hurry I don't do worry.

Happiness will bloom With fragrance and beautyIf you plant the seeds of loveWith a deep driving desire in the garden of hopeAnd nurture with tenderness,Compassion, and care;If you are always eager to share.

Suicide is a permanent answer to a temporary problem." They say, it's not an "answer" in any way. Taking your own life is SE Self Execution, many have said that's a terrible name. I ask should killing yourself sound good?

With every innovation comes a new abuse.

Live life daringly.

I am a monk at heart - a scientist at brain - a philosopher at conscience.

Rituals are a good signal to your unconscious that it is time to kick in.

It doesn’t matter how bitter or better the past has been, what we can do with the bitter or better past today is what matters.

You have the power to treat your own pain, and you can do it without surgery, drugs, or other invasive interventions.

It has always been the prerogative of children and half-wits to point out that the emperor has no clothes. But a half-wit remains a half-wit, and the emperor remains an emperor.

Tell the story as if it were only of interest to the small circle of your characters, of which you may be one. There is no other way to put life into the story.

Do you think he'll be alright?"she said, looking at the injured stallion... He felt comforted that she'd chosen to sit out here with him in the cold stables... When he was younger he thought he'd known what it was to feel passion. But what he was experiencing now, sitting close to her on a hale bay, there was simply no comparison.

The bowler approached the wicket at a lope, a trot, and then a run. He suddenly exploded in a flurry of arms and legs, out of which flew a ball.

The sinner runs when no one is pursuing himMeaning: one’s guilt will always haunt or live with him

We endure hardships by God’s grace.

An explosion in space makes no sound at all.

I write because I love to play with language.

Yes, I deserve a spring–I owe nobody nothing.

I am an inconsistent creature. Perhaps it is the pressure of my past, and not my own perverse mind, that has made me into this contradictory being. I am all too well aware of this fault in myself. You must forgive me.

We are the same people as we were at three six ten or twenty years old. More noticeably so perhaps at six or seven because we were not pretending so much then.

Do you mind,” he asked politely, “if I slide my blade under your skin, just a little?

I’ve been waiting half an hour for you to wake up.” His voice was uneven and raspy. “Is that right?” she murmured.

Success is manufactured in the Mind, while Happiness is cultivated in the Soul

Surprise!-FitzChivalry

If I lost him here, to this idiotic fight, after I fought and guarded him for two weeks, after I cried and thought he was dying, I would find him in the afterlife and I would murder him again.

The beam of light flashed across her own face and she thought, Yes, me, Khady Demba, still happy to utter her name silently and to sense its apt harmony with the precise, satisfying image she had of her own features and of the Khady heart that dwelled within her to which no one but she had access.

And that's humbling, knowing that your voice can mean so much to another person.

Don’t make your job your permanent assignment. Rather, make your work your permanent assignment

A cynic is not merely one who reads bitter lessons from the past he is one who is prematurely disappointed in the future.

Neuroscience is fast developing the technical and conceptual wherewithal to reveal in fine, bare detail the neurobiological substrates of the mind. Perhaps it will despoil a sacred myth - the myth of selfhood and souls. And, if so, we may be wandering innocently into the opening phase of a dangerous game. Our ethics and systems of justice, our entire moral order, are founded on the notion of society as a collective of individual selves - autonomous, introspective, accountable agents. If this self-reflective, moral agent is revealed to be illusory, then what?

Prayer is a sacred-communication.

For a moment, she could do nothing but stare at the vaulted ceiling, sucking in deep breaths.She didn’t know. Stars above, she didn’t know it could feel like this. The attentions she’d given herself had never felt that good. In her dreams, it had never felt that good. But then, it wasn’t him in the flesh. Not like now.Nikolai removed his fingers, then placed a gentler openmouthed kiss on her sex, licking slowly with the flat of his tongue. Sienna whimpered and scooted up the bed, far too sensitive there now.He gazed up and grinned, licking his bottom lip before he sucked the two fingers he’d had inside of her with a long slide from his mouth. “I could taste you forever.”“My heart would give out in a day,” she panted, incredulous he would do and say something so naughty. “Perhaps in an hour.”He chuckled and launched himself up and over her. “I like seeing that flush in your cheeks.” He nipped her lips. “And hearing that smile in your voice.”She wondered how he could see anything, but then again, he was vampire. “Well, I like breathing.” She panted heavily still. “So give me a moment to catch my breath.”He settled beside her, pulled the covers over them, and wrapped a strong arm around her waist, pulling her over till her head rested on his chest. “Take all the time you need.”His voice was light and airy, unlike his usual brooding self.She tilted her head toward him. “You’re happy with yourself, aren’t you?”“Quite.”“I’ve never experienced something like that before.”She had no experience with men, but she thought she knew enough from watching farm animals. Apparently not.“I am certainly glad to hear that,” he said only slightly more serious. “If another man tried to do that to you, I’d have to rip out his tongue.”“You’re very territorial.”“Very. Glad you’ve noted.”Strange how that act of intimacy had washed away the angst and tension from before. Then she realized that was exactly what he was trying to do. He’d wanted her pleasure alone, he’d said. He’d certainly gotten it.“Is it always like that?” she asked, almost too shy, but enjoying the intimacy that had grown between them in the dark.“No.” He flatted his palm, fingers spread, over her abdomen under the covers. “It will be better next time.”“Better?”He laughed and lowered his head, sweeping his lips across hers. Not a kiss, but a reminder that they’d knocked down a wall between them and there was no rebuilding it.Then he whispered, “Wait till you see what it feels like when I’m buried deep inside you.

Once you bid farewell to discipline you say goodbye to success

The long-lived gene as an evolutionary unit is not any particular physical structure but the textual archival information that is copied on down the generations. [I]t is widely distributed in space among different individuals, and widely distributed in time over many generations. [A] successful gene will be one that does well in the environments provided by these other genes that it is likely to meet in lots of different bodies.

Believe that fate is smiling to you and everything you touch will turn into gold

Sit here, so I may writeyou into a poem and make you eternal.

Who wanted to be smiled at by the girl that trailed shadows like pets, conjured snakes and waited for Death, her bridegroom, to steal her from these walls?

Yes,” Curran said. “We’d like you to officiate.”“I’m sorry?”“We’d like you to marry us,” I said.Roman’s eyes went wide. He pointed to himself. “Me?”“Yes,” Curran said.“Marry you?”“Yes.”“You do know what I do, right?”“Yes,” I said. “You’re Chernobog’s priest.

The most beautiful women in the world are the ones that can stand as rivals on the battlefield of love, yet they can still see each other’s pain. They can set down their swords for only just a moment to acknowledge the beauty of the warrior that stands before them—the passion, the fearlessness and the relentless fire that never gives up. It is in this moment that we learn that it is not the man that sees the worth of the hearts torn by battle in his honor; it is the women who have suffered for so long. Two women that can “see” clearly the worth of the other, even while they grow weary from their wounds is the only kind of beauty that matters. For if there wasn’t two worthy opponents there would be no war in love.