Quotes - Page 490 | Just Great DataBase

If she found a blade of nut-grass in her yard it was like the Second Battle of the Marne: she swooped down upon it with a tin tub and subjected it to blasts from beneath with a poisonous substance she said was so powerful it’d kill us all if we didn’t stand out of the way. ‘Why can’t you just pull it up?’ I asked, after witnessing a prolonged campaign against a blade not three inches high. ‘Pull it up, child, pull it up?’ She picked up the limp sprout and squeezed her thumb up its tiny stalk. Microscopic grains oozed out. ‘Why, one sprig of nut-grass can ruin a whole yard. Look here. When it comes fall this dries up and the wind blows it all over Maycomb County!

I can listen to my own heartbeat against the bedsprings, I can stroke myself, under the dry white sheets, in the dark, but I too am dry and white, hard, granular; it's like running my hand over a plateful of dried rice; it's like snow. There's something dead about it, something deserted. I am like a room where things once happened and now nothing does, except the pollen of the weeds that grow up outside the window, blowing in as dust across the floor.   Here

The sun is free, it is still there to be enjoyed.

And what would be the point of turning the Secret Annex into a Melancholy Annex?

At the enchanted metropolitan twilight I felt a haunting loneliness sometimes, and felt it in others—poor young clerks who loitered in front of windows waiting until it was time for a solitary restaurant dinner—young clerks in the dusk, wasting the most poignant moments of night and life. Again

Ha de poseer todo eso, y aún algo más sustancial, mediante el perfeccionamiento de su inteligencia gracias a unas lecturas muy extensas.

He listened to her with perfect indifference while she chose to entertain herself in this manner; and as his composure convinced her that all was safe, her wit flowed long.

After ten forevers Dr. Reynolds returned.

I wish this story were different. I wish it were more civilized. I wish it showed me in a better light, if not happier, then at least more active, less hesitant, less distracted by trivia. I wish it had more shape. I wish it were about love, or about sudden realizations important to one's life, or even about sunsets, birds, rainstorms, or snow.(...)I'm sorry there is so much pain in this story. I'm sorry it's in fragments, like a body caught in crossfire or pulled apart by force. But there is nothing I can do to change it.I've tried to put some of the good things in as well. Flowers, for instance, because where would we be without them?

Women can't hold property anymore, she said. It's a new law.

Bir an ona aşıkmışım gibi hissettim. Ama ben ölçüp tartan, uzun uzun düşünen, kuralları olan biriyim, bu da arzularımı frenlememi sağlar.

the event of an evening which had raised such splendid expectations. He had rather hoped that

I might as well inquire," replied she, "why with so evident a desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character?

But there is one way in this country in which all men are created equal—there is one human institution that makes a pauper the equal of a Rockefeller, the stupid man the equal of an Einstein, and the ignorant man the equal of any college president. That institution, gentlemen, is a court.

I’ve got to live with myself. The one thing that doesn’t abide by majority rule is a person’s conscience.

Every part of me is attuned to the work. I soak it up into my pores during the day, and at night--in the moments before I pass off into sleep--ideas explode into my head like fireworks. There is no greater joy than the burst of solution to a problem.

You don't know much,' said the Duchess; 'and that's a fact.

It can’t last forever. Others have thought suchthings, in bad times before this, and they were always right, they did get out one way or another, and it didn’tlast forever. Although for them it may have lasted all the forever they had.

Ведь Дэзи была молода, а в ее искусственном мире цвели орхидеи и господствовал легкий, приятный снобизм, и оркестры каждый год вводили в моду новые ритмы, отражая в мелодиях всю печаль и двусмысленность жизни. Под стон саксофонов, ночи напролет выпевавших унылые жалобы «Бийл-стрит блюза», сотни золотых и серебряных туфелек толкли на паркете сверкающую пыль. Даже в сизый час чаепитий иные гостиные сотрясал непрерывно этот сладкий несильный озноб, и знакомые лица мелькали то здесь, то там, словно лепестки облетевшей розы, гонимые по полу дыханием тоскующих труб.

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