I believe a strong woman may be stronger than a man, particularly if she happens to have love in her heart. I guess a loving woman is indestructible.
--John Steinbeck, East Of Eden
--John Steinbeck, East Of Eden
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I believe a strong woman may be stronger than a man, particularly if she happens to have love in her heart. I guess a loving woman is indestructible.
--John Steinbeck, East Of Eden I am tired. Too full of stuff I've done. Where my legs hurt where my scalp hurts. I'll not fight the thing inside me anymore. Let it eat me up. Please God. I want it to.
--Eimear McBride, A Girl Is A Half Formed Thing Our shadows are our histories. We drag them everywhere.
--Anthony Doerr, About Grace Love is a possible strength in an actual weakness.
--Thomas Hardy, Far From The Madding Crowd And if we folks have a motto, it’s this: ‘Don’t holler — smile and bide your time.’ We’ve survived a passel of things that way, smiling and biding our time, and we’ve gotten to be experts at surviving.
--Margaret Mitchell, Gone With The Wind What gets me most about these people, Daddy, isn't how ignorant they are, or how much they drink. It's the way they have of thinking that everything nice in the world is a gift to the poor people from them or their ancestors. The first afternoon I was here, Mrs. Buntline made me come out on the back porch and look at the sunset. So I did, and I said I liked it very much, but she kept waiting for me to say something else. I couldn't think of what I was supposed to say, so I said what seemed like a dumb thing. "Thank you very much," I said. That is exactly what she was waiting for. "You're entirely welcome," she said. I have since thanked her for the ocean, the moon, the stars in the sky, and the United States Constitution.
--Kurt Vonnegut, God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater This, she realizes, is the basis of all fear. That a light you are powerless to stop will turn on you and usher a bullet to its mark.
--Anthony Doerr, All The Light We Cannot See And what does the rain say at night in a small town, what does the rain have to say? Who walks beneath dripping melancholy branches listening to the rain? Who is there in the rain’s million-needled blurring splash, listening to the grave music of the rain at night, September rain, September rain, so dark and soft? Who is there listening to steady level roaring rain all around, brooding and listening and waiting, in the rain-washed, rain-twinkled dark of night?
--Jack Kerouac, The Town And The City We must not portray you in king's robes,
you drifting mist that brought forth the morning. --Rainer Maria Rilke, The Book Of Hours Because Father said clocks slay time. He said time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life.
--William Faulkner, The Sound And The Fury |
Alissa B.Nothing commonplace about The Common Place. Archives
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