Quotes - Page 41 | Just Great DataBase

I have been used to consider poetry as "the food of love" said Darcy."Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what isstrong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, Iam convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away.

Mostly, I could tell, I made him feel uncomfortable. He didn't understand me, and he was sort of holding it against me. I felt the urge to reassure him that I was like everybody else, just like everybody else. But really there wasn't much point, and I gave up the idea out of laziness.

Elinor agreed to it all, for she did not think he deserved the compliment of rational opposition.

Man serves the interests of no creature except himself.

His dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him.

I am alone and miserable. Only someone as ugly as I am could love me.

إننا ندرك أنه ما من أحد يمسك بزمام السلطة وهو ينتوي التخلي عنها.إن السلطة ليست وسيلة بل غاية , فالمرء لا يقيم حكما أستبداديا لحماية الثورة , وإنما يشعل الثورة لإقامة حكم استبدادي.إن الهدف من الأضطهاد هو الأضطهاد, والهدف من التعذيب هو التعذيب وغاية السلطة هي السلطة, هل بدأت تفهم ما أقول الآن ؟

The tragedy is not that things are broken. The tragedy is that things are not mended again.

It is happy for you that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I ask whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are they the result of previous study?

Wherever they might be they always remember that the past was a lie, that memory has no return, that every spring gone by could never be recovered, and that the wildest and most tenacious love was an ephemeral truth in the end.

I don't even know what I was running for—I guess I just felt like it.

They say that war is death's best friend, but I must offer you a different point of view on that one. To me, war is like the new boss who expects the impossible. He stands over your shoulder repeating one thin, incessantly: 'Get it done, get it done.' So you work harder. You get the job done. The boss, however, does not thank you. He asks for more.

For a moment, she was quiet. Then she grabbed my hand, whispered, Run run run run run, and took off, pulling me behind her.

For a moment the last sunshine fell with romantic affection upon her glowing face; her voice compelled me forward breathlessly as I listened - then the glow faded, each light deserting her with lingering regret, like children leaving a pleasant street at dusk.

We are forlorn like children, and experienced like old men, we are crude and sorrowful and superficial—I believe we are lost.

This is a people shooting hat," I said. "I shoot people in this hat.

Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice...

I’ll follow thee and make a heaven of hell,To die upon the hand I love so well.

I think, even, if I ever die, and they stick me in a cemetery, and I have a tombstone and all, it'll say 'Holden Caulfield' on it, and then what year I was born and what year I died, and then right under that it'll say 'Fuck you.' I'm positive, in fact.

Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It's awful.