Quotes - Page 356 | Just Great DataBase

It doesn’t make sense to me. Looks like if Mr. Arthur was hankerin’ after heaven he’d come out on the porch at least. Atticus says God’s loving folks like you love yourself— Miss Maudie stopped rocking, and her voice hardened. You are too young to understand it, she said, but sometimes the Bible in the hand of one man is worse than a whiskey bottle in the hand of—oh, of your father. I

Are you not weary of ardent ways, Lure of the fallen seraphim? Tell no more of enchanted days. Your eyes have set man's heart ablaze And you have had your will of him. Are you not weary of ardent ways? Above the flame the smoke of praise Goes up from ocean rim to rim. Tell no more of enchanted days. Our broken cries and mournful lays Rise in one eucharistic hymn. Are you not weary of ardent ways? While sacrificing hands upraise The chalice flowing to the brim. Tell no more of enchanted days. And still you hold our longing gaze With languorous look and lavish limb! Are you not weary of ardent ways? Tell no more of enchanted days.

When devils do the worst sins, they first put on the pretense of goodness and innocence, as I am doing now.

O thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou beWhen time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case?Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow,That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow?Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feetWhere thou and I henceforth may never meet.

So I learned that even after a single day's experience of the outside world a man could easily live a hundred years in prison. He'd have laid up enough memories never to be bored.

...he considered respect for one's given word as a wealth that should not be squandered.

To such perseverance in willful self-deception Elizabeth would make no reply, and immediately and in silence withdrew; determined, that if he persisted in considering her repeated refusals as flattering encouragement, to apply to her father, whose negative might be uttered in such a manner as must be decisive, and whose behavior at least could not be mistaken for the affectation and coquetry of an elegant female.

Another time Billy heard Rosewater say to a psychiatrist, I think you guys are going to have to come up with a lot of wonderful new lies, or people just aren’t going to want to go on living.

زمانی که به مدرسه می‌رفت، هنوز اصطلاح "عدم اعتماد به نفس" وارد کتب درسی نشده بود و از این رو این مفهوم به کلی برای او ناشناس بود.

Colonel Korn agreed that it was neither possible nor necessary to educate people who never questioned anything.

His thinking was a dusk of doubt and selfmistrust lit up at moments by the lightnings of intuition, but lightnings of so clear a splendour that in those moments the world perished about his feet as if it had been fireconsumed: and thereafter his tongue grew heavy and he met the eyes of others with unanswering eyes for he felt that the spirit of beauty had folded him round like a mantle and that in revery at leas he had been acquainted with nobility.

To be poor but content is actually to be quite rich. But you can have endless riches and still be as poor as anyone if you are always afraid of losing your riches.

Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?""That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said the Cat. "I don't much care where-" said Alice."Then it doesn't matter which way you go," said the Cat."- so long as I get somewhere," Alice added as an explanation."Oh, you're sure to do that," said the Cat, " if you only walk long enough.

I've heard that theory of the Therapeutic Community enough times to repeat it forwards and backwards - how a guy has to learn to get along in a group before he'll be able to function in a normal society; how the group can help the guy by showing him where he's out of place; how society is what decides who's sane and who isn't, so you got to measure up.

After that, everything seemed to happen so fast, so deliberately, so naturally that I don't remember any of it anymore.

For man, unlike any other thing organic or inorganic in the universe, grows beyond his work, walks up the stairs of his concepts, emerges ahead of his accomplishments.

Arcadio had seen her many times working in her parents' small food store but he had never taken a good look at her because she had that rare virtue of never existing completely except at the opportune moment.

Do you mean to say that the story is finished? said Don Quixote. As finished as my mother, said Sancho.

With a book he was regardless of time...

Nothing stirred within his soul but a cold and cruel and loveless lust. His childhood was dead or lost and with it his soul capable of simple joys and he was drifting amid life like the barren shell of the moon.