Quotes – Page 316 | Just Great DataBase

My story being done,She gave me for my pains a world of sighs:She swore,––in faith, twas strange, ’twas passing strange;’Twas pitiful, ’twas wondrous pitiful:She wish’d she had not heard it, yet she wish’dThat heaven had made her such a man: she thank’d me,And bade me, if I had a friend that lov’d her,I should but teach him how to tell my story.And that would woo her.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

He that is robb’d, not wanting what is stol’n,Let him not know’t and he’s not robb’d at all.

Dare not choose in your minds the work you would like to do when you leave the Home of the Students. You shall do what the Council of Vocations shall prescribe for you. For the Council of Vocations knows in its great wisdom where you are needed by your brother men, better than you can know it in your unworthy little minds. And if you are not needed by your brother men, there is no reason for you to burden the earth with your bodies.

It’s strange to remember how we used to think, as if everything were available to us, as if there were no contingencies, no boundaries; as if we were free to shape and reshape forever the ever—expanding perimeters of our lives. I was like that too, I did that too.

There was no light left save that of the stars.

possession

It’s all a matter of habit. There’s no right or wrong in it. Nobody means anything by it. And it’s so quaint, and gives such a smart emphasis to things that are not in themselves very witty. I find the new small talk delightful and quite innocent.

God take what He would,” she said. And He did, and He did, and He did and then gave her Halle who gave her freedom when it didn’t mean a thing.

He was old enough, twelve years and a few months, to have lost the prominent tummy of childhood and not yet old enough for adolescence to have made him awkward. You could see now that he might make a boxer, as far as width and heaviness of shoulders went, but there was a mildness about his mouth and eyes that proclaimed no devil.

The sting of ashes in his eyes, tiredness, fear, enraged him.

أظن أني بدأت أفهم السبب في أن بو رادلي بقي محجوزًا في المنزل كل هذه السنوات و قد أغلق عليه النوافذ و الأبواب .. السبب في ذلك هو أنه “يريد” أن يبقى في الداخل

Make a difference, does it? You stay the night here snake get you.

– იცოდე, ზედ არ უნდა დავაბიჯოთ, – მითხრა ჯემმა, – ხედავ, ფეხის დადებით დნება.უკან მივიხედე და ატალახებული ნაკვალევი შევამჩნიე. ჯემმა მითხრა, ცოტასაც თუ დადებს, მოვფხეკთ, შევაქუჩებთ და თოვლის კაცს გავაკეთებთო. მე პირი დავაღე და ენის წვერით მომსხო ფანტელი დავიჭირე. დამწვა!– ჯემ, ცხელია!– ცხელი კი არაა, იმდენად ცივია, რომ გწვავს. ოღონდ არ შეჭამო, ტყუილად გააფუჭებ. გაუშვი, დაეცეს.

Perhaps there is a beast…maybe it’s only us.

Не трябва винаги да показваш всичко, което знаеш. Такова нещо не подхожда за жени… и после, хората не обичат, когато някой е по-умен от тях. Дразнят се. Ти никого не можеш да промениш, като му приказваш правилно. Хората трябва сами да имат желание да учат, а когато нямат желание, нищо не може да се направи…

He was experimenting with being ardently sympathetic with everybody he met. He thought that might make the world a slightly more pleasant place to live in. He called Billy’s mother ‘dear’ He was experimenting with calling everybody dear.

Bah, no es así. La gente saca niños el uno de otro. Pero hay ese hombre, además… ese hombre que tiene una infinidad de niños esperando que les despierten; él les da vida con un soplo…Dill estaba disparado otra vez. Por su cabeza soñadora flotaban cosas hermosas. Podía leer dos libros mientras yo leía uno, pero prefería la magia de sus propias invenciones. Sabía sumar y restar más de prisa que el rayo, pero prefería su mundo entre dos luces, un mundo en el que los niños dormían, esperando que fueran a buscarlos como lirios matutinos. Hablando, hablando se dormía a sí mismo, y me arrastraba a mí con él, pero en la quietud de su isla de niebla se levantó la imagen confusa de una casa gris con unas puertas pardas, tristes.

Poor Edward muttered something; but what it was, nobody knew, not even himself.

If faces were different when lit from above or below – what was a face? What was anything?