Quotes - Page 328 | Just Great DataBase

She was well primed with a good load of Delahunt's port under her bellyband.

Upon himself; horror and doubt distract His troubl’d thoughts, and from the bottom stirr The Hell within him, for within him Hell He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell One step no more then from himself can fly By

. . . there were masses of pictures she had not seen; however, Lily Briscoe reflected, perhaps it was better not to see pictures: they only made one hopelessly discontented with one’s own work.

I interrupted to make Uncle Jack let me know when he would pull it out, but he held up a bloody splinter in a pair of tweezers and said he yanked it while I was laughing, that was what was known as relativity.

Să fii curajos înseamnă să ştii că eşti pierdut înainte de a întreprinde ceva.

Horseness is the whatness of allhorse. Streams of tendency and eons they worship. God: noise in the street: very peripatetic.

Moira had power now, she’d been set loose, she’d set herself loose. She was now a loose woman.I think we found this frightening.

Yetişkinlerin bakışlarından nefret ediyorum. İnsan kendini suçlu hissediyor.

Look at the woebegone walk of him. Eaten a bad egg. Poached eyes on ghost.

Hae you got everything you need in the shape of-of tea?

Shoot all the bluejays you want, if you can hit 'em, but remember it's a sin to kill a mockingbird

A light wind passed his brow, fanning softly his fair uncombed hair and stirring silver points of anxiety in his eyes.

She laughed again, as if she said something very witty, and held my hand for a moment, looking up into my face, promising that there was no one in the world she so much wanted to see.

When he ran into her at Susanne’s, she was friendly but cool and distant. When they met in her bedroom, she was wildly passionate.

-Los ruiseñores no se dedican a otra cosa que a cantar para alegrarnos. No devoran los frutos de los huertos, no anidan en los graneros, no hacen nada más que derramar el corazón, cantando para nuestro deleite. Por eso es pecado matar a un ruiseñor.

Thou therefore on these Herbs, and Fruits, and Flow'rsFeed first, on each Beast next, and Fish, and Fowl, No homely morsels, and whatever thingThe Scyth of Time mows down, devour unspar'd, Till I in Man residing through the Race, His thoughts, his looks, words, actions all infect, And season him thy last and sweetest prey.

Tengo treinta años -dije-. He rebasado en cinco años la edad de mentirme a mí mismo y llamarle a eso honor.

Cry about what, Mr. Raymond? Dill’s maleness was beginning to assert itself. Cry about the simple hell people give other people—without even thinking. Cry about the hell white people give colored folks, without even stopping to think that they’re people, too. Atticus

Men have forgotten this truth, said the fox. But you must not forget it.You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.

In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since. ‘Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,’ he told me, ‘just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.’ He didn’t say any more but we’ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that. In consequence I’m inclined to reserve all judgments, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores.