Elnora Diebold > Elnora's Quotes

“A scream pierced the sky, a child’s, so loud he dropped his cup, his right hand ready to reach for a weapon that wasn’t there. A survival reflex from another city, another part of the world. He tried to relax, but the scream had been real. Not like the whining wail he loathed, not even the shocked cry of a kid who’d just hurt himself. This scream had mortal fear in it. After three tours in Afghanistan, he knew the difference.”
― Barry Kirwan, When the children come

“When you play around with or entertain a “young lion,” what you don’t end up killing and putting away from you now will end up killing you: because when it’s full-grown it becomes the lion or dragon that Psalm 91:13 describes. That’s how the enemy gets his way to build strongholds in your life.”
― John Ramirez, Unmasking the Devil: Strategies to Defeat Eternity's Greatest Enemy

“It all comes down to a choice. Either choose a life separate from God, which comes with the worry that things can fall apart at any moment, or follow the Lord and enjoy extraordinary confidence in knowing you can achieve greatness and will have the happiest of endings.”
― Spencer C Demetros, The Bible: Enter Here: Bringing God's Word to Life for Today's Teens

“Over time, it became apparent that no matter who ruled the country of Gundarland, the Godmother ruled the city of Dun Hythe.”
― Hank Quense, The King Who Disappeared

“Eleanor was an orphan at the age of 10. She went to live with her maternal Grandma Hall, a bitter and biblically strict woman who nonetheless struggled to control her children. Eleanor had to endure some uncles who drank to excess and possibly abused her. For protection, her grandmother or an aunt installed three heavy locks on Eleanor’s bedroom door. A girlfriend who slept over asked Eleanor about the locks. She said they were “to keep my uncles out.”
― Anne Michaud, Why They Stay: Sex Scandals, Deals, and Hidden Agendas of Eight Political Wives

“Pack, on how he will run his Task Force: “We don’t defend. We attack constantly, and we don’t quit til we have every mammy-jammin’ fugitive back in custody. Attack, pursuit, exploitation. As Napoleon, and after him Patton said, “L’audace, l’audace, toujours l’audace.”
― John M. Vermillion, Pack's Posse

“sometimes in life doing what we shouldn't do is the emergency”
― Bryce Courtenay, The Power of One

“Why have the Soviets stood aside and allowed us to settle Berlin, Vietnam and the Middle East? One, because the United States is big, mean and tough as hell and they know it. Two, the obsession with peace in the USSR. Twenty million Russian people were killed during World War II. We must have the fear elements working, but also the hope element.”
― Carl Bernstein, The Final Days

“There are times when you don't belong and you think you're going to kill yourself. Once I went to a hotel. Later that night I made a plan. The plan was I would leave my family when my second child was born. And that's what I did. I got up one morning, made breakfast, went to the bus stop, got on a bus. I'd left a note. I got a job in a library in Canada. It would be wonderful to say you regretted it. It would be easy. But what does it mean? What does it mean to regret when you have no choice? It's what you can bear. There it is. No-one's going to forgive me. It was death. I chose life." -Laura Brown-”
― Michael Cunningham, The Hours

“Their eyes met with a singular directness of gaze. Between them a spark passed which was not afterwards to be extinguished, though neither of them knew the moment of its kindling...”
― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Shuttle

“Oder wie jener Zeck auf dem Baum, dem doch das Leben nichts anderes zu bieten hat als ein immerwährendes überwintern. Der kleine hässliche Zeck, der seinen bleigrauen Körper zur Kugel formt, um der Außenwelt die geringstmögliche Fläche zu bieten; der seine Haut glatt und derb macht, um nichts zu verströmen, kein bisschen von sich hinauszutranspirieren. Der Zeck, der sich extra klein und unansehnlich macht, damit niemand ihn sehe und zertrete. Der einsame Zeck, der in sich versammelt auf seinem Baume hockt, blind, taub und stumm, und nur wittert, jahrelang wittert, meilenweit, das Blut vorüberwandernder Tiere, die er aus eigner Kraft niemals erreichen wird. Der Zeck könnte sich fallen lassen. Er könnte sich auf den Boden des Waldes fallen lassen, mit seinen sechs winzigen Beinchen ein paar Millimeter dahin und dorthin kriechen und sich unters Laub zum Sterben legen, es wäre nicht schade um ihn, weiß Gott nicht. Aber der Zeck, bockig, stur und eklig, bleibt hocken und lebt und wartet. Wartet, bis ihm der höchst unwahrscheinliche Zufall das Blut in Gestalt eines Tieres direkt unter den Baum treibt. Und dann erst gibt er seine Zurückhaltung auf, lässt sich fallen und krallt und bohrt und beisst sich in das fremde Fleisch...”
― Patrick Süskind, Perfume: The Story of a Murderer

“Hello, Jake, I’m so glad you could come,” Sunny (as Madame Hoo was now called) said, shaking the hand of the chairman of the State Gambling Commission.”
― Ellen Raskin, The Westing Game

“Nothing dies in Hell.”
― John Patrick Kennedy, Plague of Angels

“We certainly do not forget you, so soon as you forget us. It is, perhaps, our fate rather than our merit. We cannot help ourselves.”
― Jane Austen, Persuasion

“Her tears were partly tears of happiness, for she felt that the strangeness between them was gone. She loved him now with a new love because he had made her suffer.”
― W. Somerset Maugham

“You cannot make yourself feel something you do not feel, but you can make yourself do right in spite of your feelings.”
― Pearl S. Buck

“It seems cruel," she said, "that after a while nothing matters... any more than these little things that used to be necessary and important to forgotten people, and now have to be guessed at under a magnifying glass and labelled: 'Use unknown.'"
"Yes, but meanwhile -"
"Ah, meanwhile -”
― Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence

“I am not going to tell you my name, not yet at any rate.' A queer half-knowing, half-humorous look came with a green flicker into his eyes. 'For one thing it would take a long while: my name is growing all the time, and I've lived a very long, long time; so my name is like a story. Real names tell you the story of things they belong to in my language, in the Old Entish as you might say. It is a lovely language, but it takes a very long time saying anything in it, because we do not say anything in it, unless it is worth taking a long time to say, and to listen to.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers