Quotes - Page 299 | Just Great DataBase

I couldn't help loving you if you were ten times his wife; but so long as I went away from you and kept away I could help telling you so.

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Limping, attendants rushed up to support him, Attendants made of gold who looked like real girls, With a mind within, and a voice, and strength, And knowledge of crafts from the immortal gods. These busily moved to support their lord...

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Pero ¿Dónde estaban mis amigos y familiares? No había tenido un padre que cuidase de mi infancia, ni una madre que me bendijese con sus sonrisas y caricias; y si los tuve, toda mi vida pasada no era sino tiniebla, un ciego vacío que no distinguía nada. Desde el principio de mis recuerdos, había sido como era entonces en estatura y proporción. Hasta ahora, nunca había visto a un ser que se pareciese a mí ni pretendiese contacto alguno conmigo. ¿ Qué era yo? La pregunta me surgía una y otra vez, sólo para contestarla con gemidos

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But now he said his thoughts aloud many times since there was no one that they could annoy.

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I feel angry. I'm not proud of myself for this, or for any of it. But then, that's the point.

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Vi cómo se marchitaba y acababa por perderse la belleza; cómo la corrupción de la muerte reemplazaba la mejilla encendida; cómo los prodigios del ojo y del cerebro eran la herencia del gusano.

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He could not make them shut-up; they were worse than women. They had not brains enough to be introverted and repressed.

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One must possess many gifts … which have not been acquired by one’s own effort. And, moreover … the artist must possess the courageous soul.

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Falling in love, I said. Falling into it, we all did then, one way or another. How could we have made such light of it? Sneered even. As if it was trivial for us, a frill, whim. It was, on the contrary, heavy going.

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But is it not a duty to the survivors that we should refrain from augmenting their unhappiness by an appearance of immoderate grief? It is also a duty owed to yourself, for excessive sorrow prevents improvement or enjoyment, or even the discharge of daily usefulness, without which no man is fit for society.

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John – tell me, are we lost?

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Probability is a powerful and troublesome test; and it is by this troublesome standard that a large portion of historical evidence is sifted. Consistency is no less pertinacious and exacting in its demands.

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Pain marks you, but too deep to see.

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The autumn trees, ravaged as they are, take on the flash of tattered flags kindling in the gloom of cool cathedral caves where gold letters on marble pages describe death in battle and how bones bleach and burn far away in Indian sands.

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Man was matter. Drop him out of a window and he'll fall. Set fire to him and he'll burn. Bury him and he'll rot, like other kinds of garbage.

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I have said it before, but I don't think I have ever came so near meaning it.

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What victory would the Devil have to win a soul already bad? It is the best the Devil wants, and who is better than the minister." - Rev. John Hale

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Sometimes I talk a little loud when I get excited.

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Yossarian was in love with the maid in the lime-colored panties because she seemed to be the only woman left he could make love to without falling in love with.

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A space-time, between here and now and there and then, puncuated by dinner

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