Mary > Mary's Quotes

“The wind outside nested in each tree, prowled the sidewalks in invisible treads like unseen cats.
Tom Skelton shivered. Anyone could see that the wind was a special wind this night, and the darkness took on a special feel because it was All Hallows' Eve. Everything seemed cut from soft black velvet or gold or orange velvet. Smoke panted up out of a thousand chimneys like the plumes of funeral parades. From kitchen windows drifted two pumpkin smells: gourds being cut, pies being baked.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Halloween Tree

“Miraculously, smoke curled out of his own mouth, his nose, his ears, his eyes, as if his soul had been extinguished within his lungs at the very moment the sweet pumpkin gave up its incensed ghost.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Halloween Tree

“There we were - demented children mincing about in clothes that no one ever wore, speaking as no man ever spoke, swearing love in wigs and rhymed couplets, killing each other with wooden swords, hollow protestations of faith hurled after empty promises of vengeance - and every gesture, every pose, vanishing into the thin unpopulated air. We ransomed our dignity to the clouds, and the uncomprehending birds listened. Don't you see?! We're actors - we're the opposite of people!”
― Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead

“We drift down time, clutching at straws. But what good's a brick to a drowning man?”
― Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead

“Dying is not romantic, and death is not a game which will soon be over...Death is not anything...death is not...It's the absence of presence, nothing more...the endless time of never coming back...a gap you can't see, and when the wind blows through it, it makes no sound...”
― Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead

“There must have been a time, in the beginning, when we could have said – no. But somehow we missed it. Oh well, we'll know better next time.”
― Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead

“Actually," said Jace, "I prefer to think that I'm a liar in a way that's uniquely my own.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes