Quotes – Page 313 | Just Great DataBase

Si entonces no se acerca a mí, pensaba, me olvidaré de él para siempre.

He read the verses backwards but then they were not poetry. Then he read the flyleaf from the bottom to the top till he came to his own name. That was he: and he read down the page again. What was after the universe? Nothing. But was there anything round the universe to show where it stopped before the nothing place began? It could not be a wall; but there could be a thin thin line there all round everything. It was very big to think about everything and everywhere. Only God could do that. He tried to think what a big thought that must be; but he could only think of God. God was God’s name just as his name was Stephen. Dieu was the French for God and that was God’s name too; and when anyone prayed to God and said Dieu then God knew at once that it was a French person that was praying. But, though there were different names for God in all the different languages in the world and God understood what all the people who prayed said in their different languages, still God remained always the same God and God’s real name was God.

The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts, All on a summer day: The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts, And took them quite away!

And her eyes were on the highway, where life whizzed by.

He walked slowly into the middle of the clearing and looked steadily at the skull that gleamed as white as ever the conch had done and seemed to jeer at him cynically An inquisitive ant was busy in one of the eye sockets but otherwise the thing was lifeless. Or was it?

Good opinion once lost, is lost forever

Will you walk a little faster?” said a whiting to a snail. “There’s a porpoise close behind us, and he’s treading on my tail. See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance! They are waiting on the shingle–will you come and join the dance? Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance? Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?

Whenever they’s a fight so hungry hungry people can eat, I’ll be there. Wherever they’s a cop beating up a guy, I’ll be there.

ambushed by sleep.

there are very few of us that do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some quality or other, real or imaginary

but there was no curiosity in those faces, and no anger, and no mercy.

I’ll be ever’where–wherever you look. Wherever they’s a fight so hungry people can eat, I’ll be there. Wherever they’s a cop beatin’ up a guy, I’ll be there..An’ when our folks eat the stuff they raise an’ live in the houses the build–why I’ll be there.

A successful novel should interrupt the reader’s life, make him or her miss appointments, skip meals, forget to walk the dog. In the best novels, the writer’s imagination becomes the reader’s reality. It glows, incandescent and furious.

Words were insufficient for the elevation of his [Mr Collins’] feelings; and he was obliged to walk about the room, while Elizabeth tried to unite civility and truth in a few short sentences.

Calpurnia was to blame for this. It kept me from driving her crazy on rainy days, I guess. She would set me a writing task by scrawling the alphabet firmly across the top of a tablet, then copying out a chapter of the Bible underneath. If I reproduced her penmanship satisfactorily, she rewarded me with an open-faced sandwich of bread and butter and sugar. In Calpurnia’s teaching, there was no sentimentality: I seldom pleased her and she seldom rewarded me. Everybody

For all to be accomplished, for me to feel less lonely, all that remained to hope was that on the day of my execution there should be a huge crowd of spectators and that they should greet me with howls of execration.

So the last part, the bit we can all talk about, is kind of deciding on the fear.We’ve got to talk about this fear and decide there’s nothing in it.

If you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Louisa and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives, for a whole day’s tête-à-tête between two women can never end without a quarrel.

But deep in my heart I know that the most wretched among you have seen a divine face emerge from their darkness.

The moral is that the shape of a society must depend on the ethical nature of the individual and not on any political system however apparently logical or respectable.