Clemente > Clemente's Quotes

“A silent breeze swept away a moment, one that never can be recaptured, never can it be relived. So it is for us to cherish the  moments, cherish them with all of our might. For just as an eagle in flight, they are transient, soon vanishing like the moon as day return the light.”
― Sherman Kennon, Whisk Of Dust: Too Unseen Distance

“Feeling space around me, people’s emotions and lives, and running on the path of their destinies led me to experience the oneness of Korea.”
― Raz Mihal, Just Love Her

“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

“   In 1658, Francis Andrew Ransome stole the Alchemy Scroll from St. Julian’s college, my present employer. Ransome was a member of a transatlantic group called The Invisible College. They were alchemists, meaning they worked with matter and spirit together.”
― Susan Rowland, The Alchemy Fire Murder

“This sounds admirable! I do so much admire what you are doing. Using this wonderful old house.”
― Elizabeth Tebby Germaine, A MAN WHO SEEMED REAL: A story of love, lies, fear and kindness

“If the onset of wrinkles in middle age were referred to as laughter lines, then to look at him, Scott thought, Twinkle's life must have been hilarious. He had sharp eyes that often seemed to visually contradict the lack of intelligence that could be derived from listening to him talk. There might not be a lot to respect in Twinkle, but Scott liked him. He just didn't want to end up like him.”
― R.D. Ronald, The Elephant Tree

“Somethings wrong,’ he told her.
‘Be specific Jack,’ she said pressuring him.
Jack turned again to the desert. ‘We should already be dead,’ he said. ‘That’s what’s wrong.”
― A.R. Merrydew, The Girl with the Porcelain Lips

“Cada um de nós tem dentro de si alguma coisa que não pode ser negada, ainda que nos faça grita, gritar, até ao fim. Somos o que somos, e pronto. Como a velha lenda celta do pássaro com o espinho no peito que canta até morrer, porque precisa de fazê-lo, porque é levado a isso. Podemos saber que vamos errar até antes de cometermos o erro, mas o conhecimento de nós mesmos não afecta nem altera o resultado. Cada qual entoa o seu cântico, convencido de que é o mais maravilhoso que o mundo já ouviu. Não vês? Criámos os nossos espinhos e nunca nos detivemos para avaliar o custo. A única coisa que podemos fazer é sofrer a dor e dizer intimamente que valeu a pena.”
― Collen McCullough

“It is difficult to understand the behavior of most German Protestants in the first Nazi years unless one is aware of two things: their history and the influence of Martin Luther.* The great founder of Protestantism was both a passionate anti-Semite and a ferocious believer in absolute obedience to political authority. He wanted Germany rid of the Jews and when they were sent away he advised that they be deprived of “all their cash and jewels and silver and gold” and, furthermore, “that their synagogues or schools be set on fire, that their houses be broken up and destroyed… and they be put under a roof or stable, like the gypsies… in misery and captivity as they incessantly lament and complain to God about us”—advice that was literally followed four centuries later by Hitler, Goering and Himmler.”
― William L. Shirer, The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich: A History of Nazi Germany

“Minecraft”
― Jon Scieszka, Terrifying Tales

“As she bent over the child she realized that the tragedy of death had to do entirely with what was left unfulfilled. She was ashamed that such a simple insight should have eluded her all these years. Make something beautiful of your life. Wasn't that the adage of Sister Mary Joseph Praise lived by? Hema's second thought was that she, deliverer of countless babies, she who'd rejected the kind of marriage her parents wanted for her, she who felt there were too many children in the world and felt no pressure to add to that number, understood for the first time that having a child was about cheating death. Children were the foot wedged in the closing door, the glimmer of hope that in reincarnation there would be some house to go to, even if one came back as a dog, or a mouse, or a flea that lived on the bodies of men. If, as Matron and Sister Mary Joseph Praise believed, there was a raising of the dead, then a child would be sure to see that its parents were awakened. Provided, of course, the child didn't die with you in a plane crash.”
― Abraham Verghese, Cutting for Stone

“Yes. The Takers accumulate knowledge about what works well for things. The Leavers accumulate knowledge about what works well for people.”
― Daniel Quinn, Ishmael

“But on most days, especially the warm ones, life exhausts him; the worsening traffic and graffiti and company politics, everyone grousing about bonuses, benefits, overtime. Sometimes in the slow heat of summer, long before dawn, Volkheimer paces in the harsh dazzle of the billboard light and feels his loneliness on him like a disease.”
― Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See