Quotes - Page 337 | Just Great DataBase

It was gratitude; gratitude, not merelyfor having once loved her, but for loving her still well enough to forgive all the petulance and acrimony of her manner in rejecting him.

I must hold his pain where it is, he thought. Mine does not matter. I can control mine. But his pain could drive him mad.

No average man will molest a woman by day or night, at home or abroad, unless she invites him. Until she says by a look "Come on" he is always afraid to, and if you never say it, or look it, he never comes.

Girls. Jesus Christ. They can drive you crazy.

There was so much to read for one thing and so much fine health to be pulled down out of the young breath-giving air. I bought a dozen volumes on banking and credit and investment securities and they stood on my shelf in red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to unfold the shining secrets that only Midas and Morgan and Maecenas knew. And I had the high intention of reading many other books besides. I was rather literary in college—one year I wrote a series of very solemn and obvious editorials for the ‘Yale News’—and now I was going to bring back all such things into my life and become again that most limited of all specialists, the ‘well-rounded man.’ This isn’t just an epigram—life is much more successfully looked at from a single window, after all.

You loved him when he was alive and you loved him after. If you love him, it is not a sin to kill him. Or is it more? 'You think too much, old man' he said aloud.

Sicché andò a finire che feci il tema sul guantone da baseball di mio fratello Allie. […] Mio fratello Allie, dunque aveva quel guantone da prenditore, il sinistro. Lui era mancino. La cosa descrittiva di quel guanto, però, era che c’erano scritte delle poesie su tutte le dita e il palmo e dappertutto. In inchiostro verde. Ce le aveva scritte lui, così aveva qualcosa da leggere quando stava ad asp...ettare e nessuno batteva. Ora è morto. Gli è venuta la leucemia ed è morto quando stavamo nel Maine, il 18 luglio del 1946. Vi sarebbe piaciuto. Aveva due anni meno di me, ma era cinquanta volte più intelligente di me. Era di un’intelligenza fantastica. […] Aveva solo tredici anni e loro volevano farmi psicanalizzare e compagnia bella perché avevo spaccato tutte le finestre del garage. Non posso biasimarli. Ho dormito nel garage la notte che lui è morto, e ho spaccato col pugno tutte quelle dannate finestre, così, tanto per farlo. Ho tentato anche di spaccare tutti i finestrini della giardinetta che avevamo quell’estate, ma a quel punto mi ero già rotto la mano eccetera eccetera, e non ho potuto. È stata una cosa proprio stupida, chi lo nega, ma io quasi non sapevo nemmeno quello che stavo facendo, e poi voi non conoscevate Allie.

Only a short time ago, I learned that people laughed at me. Now I can see that unknowingly I joined them in laughing at myself. That hurts most of all.

rolling eye balls

He manages to appear puzzled, as if he can't quite remember how we all got in here. As if we are something he inherited, like a Victorian pump organ, and he hasn't figured out what to do with us. What we are worth.

We are for breeding purposes: we aren't concubines, geisha girls, courtesans. On the contrary: everything possible has been done to remove us from that category. There is supposed to be nothing entertaining about us, no room is to be permitted for the flowering of secret lusts; no special favors are to be wheedled, by them or us, there are to be no toeholds for love. We are two-legged wombs, that's all: sacred vessels, ambulatory chalices. So

The dentuso is cruel and able and strong and intelligent. But I was more intelligent than he was. Perhaps not, he thought. Perhaps I was only better armed.

Whene'er, by Jove's decree, our conquering powers Shall humble to the dust her lofty towers.

I want to be held and told my name. I want to be valued, in ways that I am not; I want to be more than valuable.

They spend their lives fighting against priests and then give prayerbooks as gifts.

Intelligence is one of the greatest human gifts. But all too often a search for knowledge drives out the search for love. This is something else I've discovered for myself very recently.

The old man drank his coffee slowly. It was all he would have all day and he knew that he should take it. For a long time now eating had bored him and he never carried a lunch.

Sit down and hold your tongue as I bid you for if I once begin to lay my hands about you, though all heaven were on your side it would profit you nothing.

Nobody knows how to do it except the Egyptians. Even modern science.

Why did you run? I was scared, suh. Why were you scared? Mr. Finch, if you was a nigger like me, you’d be scared, too.