Annie > Annie's Quotes

Showing 1-30 of 33
« previous 1
sort by

  • #1
    Jesmyn Ward
    “I will tie the glass and stone with string, hang the shards above my bed, so that they will flash in the dark and tell the story of Katrina, the mother that swept into the Gulf and slaughtered. Her chariot was a storm so great and black the Greeks would say it was harnessed to dragons. She was the murderous mother who cut us to the bone but left us alive, left us naked and bewildered as wrinkled newborn babies, as blind puppies, as sun-starved newly hatched baby snakes. She left us a dark Gulf and salt burned land. She left us to learn to crawl. She left us to salvage. Katrina is the mother we will remember until the next mother with large, merciless hands, committed to blood, comes.”
    Jesmyn Ward, Salvage the Bones

  • #2
    Virginia Woolf
    “She saw the light again. With some irony in her interrogation, for when one woke at all, one's relations changed, she looked at the steady light, the pitiless, the remorseless, which was so much her, yet so little her, which had her at its beck and call (she woke in the night and saw it bent across their bed, stroking the floor), but for all that she thought, watching it with fascination, hypnotised, as if it were stroking with its silver fingers some sealed vessel in her brain whose bursting would flood her with delight, she had known happiness, and it silvered the rough waves a little more brightly, as daylight faded, and the blue went out of the sea and it rolled in waves of pure lemon which curved and swelled and broke upon the beach and the ecstasy burst in her eyes and waves of pure delight raced over the floor of her mind and she felt, It is enough! It is enough!”
    Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse

  • #3
    Haruki Murakami
    “Don't feel sorry for yourself. Only assholes do that.”
    Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

  • #4
    Sylvia Plath
    “I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

  • #5
    Ruth Ozeki
    “Sometimes when she told stories about the past her eyes would get teary from all the memories she had, but they weren't tears. She wasn't crying. They were just the memories, leaking out.”
    Ruth Ozeki, A Tale for the Time Being

  • #6
    Ruth Ozeki
    “But in the time it takes to say now, now is already over. It's already then.”
    Ruth Ozeki, A Tale for the Time Being

  • #7
    Sigrid Nunez
    “The poet Rilke once reported seeing a dying dog give its mistress a look full of reproach. Later, he gave this experience to the narrator of a novel: He was convinced I could have prevented it. It was now clear that he had always overrated me. And there was no time left to explain it to him. He continued to gaze at me, surprised and solitary, until it was over.”
    Sigrid Nunez, The Friend

  • #8
    Donna Tartt
    “Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it.”
    Donna Tartt, The Secret History

  • #9
    William Shakespeare
    “My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
    My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
    The more I have, for both are infinite.”
    William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

  • #10
    William Shakespeare
    “Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.”
    William Shakespeare, Romeo & Juliet

  • #11
    William Shakespeare
    “Love is heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake- its everything except what it is! (Act 1, scene 1)”
    William Shakespeare, Romeo & Juliet

  • #12
    William Shakespeare
    “Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs;
    Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;
    Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears;
    What is it else? A madness most discreet,
    A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.”
    William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

  • #13
    Robert Frost
    “So when at times the mob is swayed
    To carry praise or blame too far,
    We may choose something like a star
    To stay our minds on and be staid.”
    Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken and Other Poems
    tags: star

  • #14
    Haruki Murakami
    “I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it -- to be fed so much love I couldn't take any more. Just once. ”
    Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

  • #15
    Anne Carson
    “I suppose you do love me, in your way,” I said to him one night close to dawn when we lay on the narrow bed. “And how else should I love you —in your way?” he asked. I am still thinking about that.”
    Anne Carson, Plainwater: Essays and Poetry

  • #16
    Toni Morrison
    “Love is or it ain't. Thin love ain't love at all.”
    Toni Morrison, Beloved

  • #17
    Bonnie Burstow
    “Often father and daughter look down on mother (woman) together. They exchange meaningful glances when she misses a point. They agree that she is not bright as they are, cannot reason as they do. This collusion does not save the daughter from the mother’s fate.”
    Bonnie Burstow, Radical Feminist Therapy: Working in the Context of Violence

  • #18
    Galway Kinnell
    “When I sleepwalk
    into your room, and pick you up,
    and hold you up in the moonlight, you cling to me
    hard,
    as if clinging could save us. I think
    you think
    I will never die, I think I exude
    to you the permanence of smoke or stars,
    even as
    my broken arms heal themselves around you.”
    Galway Kinnell

  • #19
    Thomas Hardy
    “She philosophically noted dates as they came past in the revolution of the year. Her own birthday, and every other day individualized by incidents in which she had taken some share. She suddenly thought, one afternoon, that there was another date, of greater importance than all those; that of her own death; a day which lay sly and unseen among all the other days of the year, giving no sign or sound when she annually passed over it; but not the less surely there. When was it?”
    Thomas Hardy, Tess of the D’Urbervilles

  • #20
    Alasdair Gray
    “She also said the wicked people needed love as much as good people and were much better at it.”
    Alasdair Gray, Poor Things

  • #21
    Alasdair Gray
    “This is a thought too big for Bell to think. I must grow into it by slow degrees.”
    Alasdair Gray, Poor Things

  • #22
    Jane Austen
    “I cannot make speeches, Emma...If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am. You hear nothing but truth from me. I have blamed you, and lectured you, and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it.”
    Jane Austen, Emma

  • #23
    Jack Kerouac
    “I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till i drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.”
    Jack Kerouac

  • #24
    Jacqueline Harpman
    “I was forced to acknowledge too late, much too late, that I too had loved, that I was capable of suffering, and that I was human after all.”
    Jacqueline Harpman, I Who Have Never Known Men

  • #25
    Jacqueline Harpman
    “Is there a satisfaction in the effort of remembering that provides its own nourishment, and is what one recollects less important than the act of remembering? That is another question that will remain unanswered: I feel as though I am made of nothing else.”
    Jacqueline Harpman, I Who Have Never Known Men

  • #26
    Toni Morrison
    “I’m crazy about this City.

    Daylight slants like a razor cutting the buildings in half. In the top half I see looking faces and it’s not easy to tell which are people, which the work of stonemasons. Below is shadow where any blasé thing takes place: clarinets and lovemaking, fists and the voices of sorrowful women. A city like this one makes me dream tall and feel in on things. Hep. It’s the bright steel rocking above the shade below that does it. When I look over strips of green grass lining the river, at church steeples and into the cream-and-copper halls of apartment buildings, I’m strong. Alone, yes, but top-notch and indestructible-like the City in 1926 when all the wars are over and there will never be another one. The people down there in the shadow are happy about that. At last, at last, everything’s ahead. The smart ones say so and people listening to them and reading what they write down agree: Here comes the new. Look out.”
    Toni Morrison, Jazz

  • #27
    Toni Morrison
    “Whatever happens, whether you get rich or stay poor, ruin your health or live to old age, you always end up back where you started: hungry for the one thing everybody loses - young loving.”
    Toni Morrison, Jazz

  • #28
    And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.
    “And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.”
    John Steinbeck, East of Eden

  • #29
    Claire Keegan
    “I feel at such a loss for words but this is a new place, and new words are needed.”
    Claire Keegan, Foster

  • #30
    Albert Camus
    “It was as if that great rush of anger had washed me clean, emptied me of hope, and, gazing up at the dark sky spangled with its signs and stars, for the first time, the first, I laid my heart open to the benign indifference of the universe.
    To feel it so like myself, indeed, so brotherly, made me realize that I'd been happy, and that I was happy still. For all to be accomplished, for me to feel less lonely, all that remained to hope was that on the day of my execution there should be a huge crowd of spectators and that they should greet me with howls of execration.”
    Albert Camus, The Stranger



Rss
« previous 1