Velda Ortea > Velda's Quotes

“She’s a cop’s wife. She understands what her husband does for a living,” the priest said.”
― A.G. Russo, The Cases Nobody Wanted

“Kurt, could you please serve this invoice upon the Prussian Pickle, the Major General von Trotha for  the disrupting the legitimate working of F..H. Schmidt Engineering Services?”
― Michael G. Kramer, His Forefathers and Mick

“Keep those eyes of yours, mate, wide-fucking-open. Never know when it’s watching.”
― Adam Scott Huerta, Motive Black

“Ma should marry our bio dad, and he can be our friend  but not our dad. You’re our dad, Da. And we’re the Furies; you can’t split us.”
― Andri E. Elia, Yildun: Worldmaker of Yand

“Edward reached out with his arms and embraced her, his heart filled with a mix of sadness and hope. He desperately wanted to believe her promise and hold on to her vow that they would be reunited soon. Still, young Edward’s life had been so full of disappointment that it was hard for him to believe his unfortunate circumstances might soon be ending. He clung to her, wishing she would never let him go.”
― Steven Decker, One More Life to Live

“I walked past Malison, up Lower Main to Main and across the road. I didn’t need to look to know he was behind me. I entered Royal Wood, went a short way along a path and waited. It was cool and dim beneath the trees. When Malison entered the Wood, I continued eastward. 
I wanted to place his body in hallowed ground. He was born a Mearan. The least I could do was send him to Loric. The distance between us closed until he was on my heels. He chose to come, I told myself, as if that lessened the crime I planned. He chose what I have to offer.
We were almost to the cemetery before he asked where we were going. I answered with another question. “Do you like living in the High Lord’s kitchens?”
He, of course, replied, “No.”
“Well, we’re going to a better place.”
When we reached the edge of the Wood, I pushed aside a branch to see the Temple of Loric and Calec’s cottage. No smoke was coming from the chimney, and I assumed the old man was yet abed. His pony was grazing in the field of graves. The sun hid behind a bank of clouds.
Malison moved beside me. “It’s a graveyard.”
“Are you afraid of ghosts?” I asked.
“My father’s a ghost,” he whispered.
I asked if he wanted to learn how to throw a knife. He said, “Yes,” as I knew he would.  He untucked his shirt, withdrew the knife he had stolen and gave it to me. It was a thick-bladed, single-edged knife, better suited for dicing celery than slitting a young throat. But it would serve my purpose. That I also knew. I’d spent all night projecting how the morning would unfold and, except for indulging in the tea, it had happened as I had imagined. 
Damut kissed her son farewell. Malison followed me of his own free will. Without fear, he placed the instrument of his death into my hand. We were at the appointed place, at the appointed time. The stolen knife was warm from the heat of his body. I had only to use it. Yet I hesitated, and again prayed for Sythene to show me a different path.
“Aren’t you going to show me?” Malison prompted, as if to echo my prayer.”
― K. Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master

“He desperately tried to think of a story to explain his involvement in her sudden appearance, without mentioning the book of magic in his possession.
 ”
― Max Nowaz, The Three Witches and the Master

“« Elle se disait qu’en amour on n’est pas à la disposition l’un de l’autre, mais qu’on est un cadeau, et qu’on pouvait être un cadeau l’un pour l’autre aussi par lettres. »

« Ce qui t’est donné, tu ne peux en profiter que si tu l’acceptes. »

« Le silence s’apprend – en même temps que l’attente, qui va avec le silence. »

« Les héros meurent pour une grande cause. »”
― Bernard Schlink

“It’s sometimes argued that there’s no real progress; that a civilization that kills multitudes in mass warfare, that pollutes the land and oceans with ever larger quantities of debris, that destroys the dignity of individuals by subjecting them to a forced mechanized existence can hardly be called an advance over the simpler hunting and gathering and agricultural existence of prehistoric times. But this argument, though romantically appealing, doesn’t hold up. The primitive tribes permitted far less individual freedom than does modern society. Ancient wars were committed with far less moral justification than modern ones. A technology that produces debris can find, and is finding, ways of disposing of it without ecological upset. And the schoolbook pictures of primitive man sometimes omit some of the detractions of his primitive life—the pain, the disease, famine, the hard labor needed just to stay alive. From that agony of bare existence to modern life can be soberly described only as upward progress, and the sole agent for this progress is quite clearly reason itself.”
― Robert M. Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

“Juvenile delinquent, you're no good!” Darry shouted.”
― S.E. Hinton, The Outsiders

“When we are young, we think life will be like a su po: one fabric, one weave, one grand design. But in truth, life turns out to be more like the patchwork cloths—bits and pieces, odds and ends—people, places, things we never expected, never wanted, perhaps. There is harmony in this, too, and beauty. I suppose that is why I like the chogak po.”
― Alan Brennert, Honolulu

“Sólo eres joven una vez en la vida, dicen, ¿pero no se alarga mucho el tiempo? Más años de los que puedes soportar.”
― Hilary Mantel

“Think of this – that the writer wrote alone, and the reader read alone, and they were alone with each other. True, the writer may have been alone also with Spenser's golden apples in the Faerie Queene, Proserpina's garden, glistening bright among the place's ashes and cinders, may have seen in his mind's eye, apple of his eye, the golden fruit of the Primavera, may have seen Paradise Lost, in the garden where Eve recalled Pomona and Proserpina. He was alone when he wrote and he was not alone then, all these voices sang, the same words, golden apples, different words in different places, an Irish castle, un unseen cottage, elastic-walled and grey round blind eyes.”
― A.S. Byatt

“The intercourse was over in no time. That intercourse gave Karl a feeling of unprecedented pleasure. On the other hand, it failed to bring back Luna to reality, as she had been floating into another dimension. And it left Fiona with a deep hatred for Luna.”
― Rebecca Harlem, The Pink Cadillac

“George’s utterance of the nest and the trap belonged to a bigger mystery she did not yet understand. One day I will, she promised herself. She would stake her life that those last words from her son would be solved by her. They were steppingstones into… whatever the wind and the stars and the valiant trees held for her.”
― Susan Rowland, Murder on Family Grounds

“My heart shivers, feeling divine love for all soul images in search of romance.”
― Raz Mihal, Just Love Her

“Jeremy, I’ll say this once,’ he (Jonathan) began, ‘I’m not going to be drawn into any silly squabble you want to invent. I am not going to defend my recent behaviour in the village or anywhere else. I am not going to tell you my plans, I have had reasons for everything I’ve done and a great deal of thinking has gone into my recent very painful decisions…”
― Elizabeth Tebby Germaine, A MAN WHO SEEMED REAL: A story of love, lies, fear and kindness

“When the hatred stops will the love begin? When there is no more greed will there then be peace?”
― Sherman Kennon, My Thoughts

“Around the outside of the room other beautiful women wearing little or nothing at all flitted between the infatuated, intoxicated men, sometimes luring them away for a private dance. The men would follow obediently, weighed down by lust and credit cards.”
― R.D. Ronald, The Zombie Room

“Like the gardener, a leader must take responsibility for what he cultivates; he must mind his work, try to repel enemies, preserve what can be preserved, and eliminate what cannot succeed.”
― Nelson Mandela, Long Walk to Freedom

“Vicky became more serious and her tone more reflective as she remarked, "Life has so much pain that one needs a catharsis. I don't mean escape. You don't escape in books. On the contrary, they help you to realize yourself more fully. Mon Dieu, I'm glad I have them. When I find myself in a situation in which I'd rather not be - because of the perculiar circumstances of my life - I have this outlet. You may think me tres superieure but I'm not really, I am just what I am and live the way I like.”
― Flora Rheta Schreiber, Sybil: The Classic True Story of a Woman Possessed by Sixteen Personalities

“We shall pursue our dreams “until [we] reach[…] it. Or fail[…] trying.
”
― Greg Mortenson

“A gift is a gift only when given as a genuine expression of love, not as an effort to cover over past failures.”
― Gary Chapman, The 5 Love Languages: Singles Edition

“in our private moments we Americans are running just as fast and fearfully as we were then, running away from the darkness we know to lie behind so many apparently tranquil household doors, away from the nightmares that continue to be injected into children’s skulls by people whom Nature tells them they should love and trust, running ever faster and in ever greater numbers toward those potions, powders, priests, and philosophies that promise to obliterate such fears and nightmares, and ask in return only slavish devotion.”
― Caleb Carr, The Alienist

“There they go.
Look at those dogs go!
Why are they going fast in those cars?
What are they going to do?
Where are those dogs going?”
― P.D. Eastman, Go, Dog. Go!