Lizzette Sookoo > Lizzette's Quotes

“People who are not capable of boarding by group number do not deserve the right to vote.”
― J.K. Franko

“His need had been so strong it frightened him because they almost sensed each other’s pain. They were kindred spirits.”
― Diane L. Kowalyshyn, Crossbones

“Her spirited blue eyes danced like elves in the night and her chestnut hair shone like the sun on autumn leaves.”
― Rowena Kinread, The Missionary

“Believing doesn't make God real. Unbelief doesn't make Him disappear. Your opinion doesn’t change reality.”
― Randy Loubier, Slow Brewing Tea

“No one knows the origins of the universe. Gone was the knowledge of creation; lost to faded memories and the advance of time. History became legend, legend became myth. It is said the gods, flawless emperors of all, opened their hearts and gave life to hundreds of worlds. That love nurtured and evolved into utopian grandeur. Humanity prospered, every day reaching new heights. But all was not well. The gods were unhappy. War loomed ever on the near horizon. Realizing their plight, the king of the gods gave birth to three sons; would be kings to rule.”
― Christian Warren Freed

“Let me list for you some of the many ways in which you might be afraid to live a more creative life: You’re afraid you have no talent. You’re afraid you’ll be rejected or criticized or ridiculed or misunderstood or—worst of all—ignored. You’re afraid there’s no market for your creativity, and therefore no point in pursuing it. You’re afraid somebody else already did it better. You’re afraid everybody else already did it better. You’re afraid somebody will steal your ideas, so it’s safer to keep them hidden forever in the dark. You’re afraid you won’t be taken seriously. You’re afraid your work isn’t politically, emotionally, or artistically important enough to change anyone’s life. You’re afraid your dreams are embarrassing. You’re afraid that someday you’ll look back on your creative endeavors as having been a giant waste of time, effort, and money. You’re afraid you don’t have the right kind of discipline. You’re afraid you don’t have the right kind of work space, or financial freedom, or empty hours in which to focus on invention or exploration. You’re afraid you don’t have the right kind of training or degree. You’re afraid you’re too fat. (I don’t know what this has to do with creativity, exactly, but experience has taught me that most of us are afraid we’re too fat, so let’s just put that on the anxiety list, for good measure.) You’re afraid of being exposed as a hack, or a fool, or a dilettante, or a narcissist. You’re afraid of upsetting your family with what you may reveal. You’re afraid of what your peers and coworkers will say if you express your personal truth aloud. You’re afraid of unleashing your innermost demons, and you really don’t want to encounter your innermost demons. You’re afraid your best work is behind you. You’re afraid you never had any best work to begin with. You’re afraid you neglected your creativity for so long that now you can never get it back. You’re afraid you’re too old to start. You’re afraid you’re too young to start. You’re afraid because something went well in your life once, so obviously nothing can ever go well again. You’re afraid because nothing has ever gone well in your life, so why bother trying? You’re afraid of being a one-hit wonder. You’re afraid of being a no-hit wonder”
― Elizabeth Gilbert, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear

“I had no doubt that I could do something, but what, and how? I had no contacts and I believed in nothing. And the obsession with my identity which I had developed in the factory hospital returned with a vengeance. Who was I, how had I come to be?”
― Ralph Ellison

“The movement of this energy, if we can systematically observe it, is a way to understand what humans are receiving when we compete and argue and harm each other. When we control another human being we receive their energy. We fill up at the other’s expense and the filling up is what motivates us. Look, I must learn how to see these energy fields.”
― James Redfield, The Celestine Prophecy: how to refresh your approach to tomorrow with a new understanding, energy and optimism

“Lovers who kill each other will blame it on the wind.”
― Janet Fitch, White Oleander

“لأن الرجال مخلوفات غبية ومخلصة! و قد يحاولون التغلب على مشاعر الحب في داخلهم ولكن الجميع سيغرق في الحزن و الكآبة.”
― Thomas Hardy, بعيداً عن الناس

“One never quite stops believing, some doubt remains forever".”
― Gabriel García Márquez, Of Love and Other Demons

“today, I added a new concoction to my recuperative regime; I began drinking honey and milk. Taken together, they form a powerful antioxidant that has been used by many cultures for centuries. As the saying goes—“ it couldn’t hurt.”
― Traci Medford-Rosow, Unblinded: One Man's Courageous Journey Through Darkness to Sight

“They wouldn't be so cocky if they knew what me and the moon have going.”
― Ken Kesey, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest

“Pleme Cherokee više ništa nije posjedovalo. Ali nisu se ukrcali u kola, i zato su nešto uspjeli sačuvati. To se ne može ni vidjeti, ni nositi, ni jesti, ali nešto su sačuvali. Nisu se vozili. Nisu jahali. Hodali su.
Vladini vojnici su jahali ispred njih, pokraj njih, iza njih. Muškarci plemena Cherokee su hodali i gledali ravno pred sebe i nisu gledali ni u zemlju, ni u vojnike. Njihove žene i djeca slijedili su ih i nisu gledali vojnike.
Za njima su tandrkala prazna kola koja nisu služila ničemu. Kola nisu mogla ukrasti dušu plemena Cherokee. Zemlja im je bila ukradena, njihova domovina; ali pleme Cherokee nije dopustilo da im kola ukradu dušu.
Dok su prolazili kroz naselja bijelog čovjeka, ljudi su stajali uz rub puta i gledali ih. U početku su se smijali. Kako su Cherokee glupi, hodaju pješke, a prazna kola tandrču iza njih. Cherokee nisu okrenuli glave na njihov smijeh, i uskoro je smijeh prestao.
Nakon nekog vremena počeli su umirati. Njihova duša nije umrla, niti je izgubila snagu. Umirala su djeca, starci i bolesni. U početku su im vojnici dopuštali da se zaustave sahraniti mrtve. Ali onda ih je sve više i više umiralo - na stotine, na tisuće. Više od jedne trećine plemena Cherokee pomrlo je za vrijeme marŠa. Onda su im vojnici rekli da mrtve smiju sahranjivati svaki treći dan. Jer vojnicima se žurilo, htjeli su što prije obaviti tu stvar sa plemenom Cherokee. Vojnici su rekli da mrtve mogu natovariti u kola; ali Cherokee su ih odbili staviti u kola bijelog čovjeka. Hodali su i nosili svoje mrtve.
Dječak je nosio svoju mrtvu sestricu i noću spavao na zemlji pokraj nje. Ujutro bi je ponovo uzeo u naručje i hodao dalje. Muž je nosio svoju mrtvu ženu. Sinje nosio svoju mrtvu majku, svog oca. Majka je nosila svoju mrtvu bebu. Nosili su ih u naručju. I hodali. I nisu okretali glave; nisu gledali ni vojnike, ni ljude koji su stajali uz rub ceste i promatrali kolonu kako prolazi. Neki od tih ljudi su plakali. Ali Cherokee nisu plakali. Nisu pokazivali svoj plač. Nisu htjeli bijelom čovjeku pokazati svoju dušu; kao što se nisu htjeli ni vozili u kolima.
Taj je marš nazvan „Marš suza“. Ne zato što su Cherokee plakali; jer oni nisu plakali. Ljudi su taj marš nazvali Marš suza jer to zvuči romantično i opisuje tugu onih koji su stajali uz rub ceste i promatrali kolonu. Marš smrti ne zvuči romantično.
Ne može se pisati poezija o ukočenoj mrtvoj bebi u rukama svoje majke, o otvorenim bebinim očima koje bulje u plavo nebo, dok majka hoda.
Ne može se pjevati pjesma o ocu koji na zemlju polaže teret mrtvog tijela svoje žene da bi ležao pokraj njega preko noći i ustao i nosio ga dalje sljedećeg jutra... oca koji kaže svom najstarijem sinu da ponese mrtvo tijelo svog najmlađeg brata. I da ne gleda... ne govori... ne plače... da se ne sjeća planina.
To ne bi bila lijepa pjesma. Zato taj marš zovu "Marš suza".”
― Forrest Carter, Malo drvo

“Lo único que envejecen son nuestras vidas. Donde estamos, los siglos solo son como segundos, y después de vivir mil vidas, nuestros ojos empiezan a abrirse.”
― Eugene O'Neill

“Nor had she missed when they zigzagged between levels, even though the building was a standard grid of hallways and stairwells. As if she'd lose her bearings that easily.

She might have been insulted if he wasn't trying so hard.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Throne of Glass

“He did not like saying it. To communicate a fact seemed always to lend it fuller existence.”
― Walter M. Miller Jr., A Canticle for Leibowitz

“Now, I say to you today my friends, even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: - 'We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”
― Martin Luther King Jr.

“By selecting and growing those few species of plants and animals that we can eat, so that they constitute 90 percent rather than 0.1 percent of the biomass on an acre of land, we obtain far more edible calories per acre. As a result, one acre can feed many more herders and farmers—typically, 10 to 100 times more—than hunter-gatherers. That strength of brute numbers was the first of many military advantages that food-producing tribes gained over hunter-gatherer tribes.”
― Jared Diamond, Guns, Germs, and Steel: The Fates of Human Societies

“On July 16 and 17, 1942, 13,152 Jews were arrested in Paris and the suburbs, deported and assassinated at Auschwitz. In the Vélodrome d’Hiver that once stood on this spot, 1,129 men, 2,916 women, and 4,115 children were”
― Tatiana de Rosnay, Sarah's Key

“But if he doesn’t think about it too hard, he knows who he is and what he’s for. He just has to keep the light burning. Nothing more.”
― M.L. Stedman, The Light Between Oceans

“This woman and I, though we came together as poor as poor might be (not having so much household stuff as a dish or a spoon betwixt us both), yet this she had for her part: The Plain Man’s Pathway to Heaven and The Practice of Piety; which her father had left her when he died.  In these two books I would sometimes read with her, wherein I also found some things that were somewhat pleasing to me (but all this while I met with no conviction).  She also would be often telling of me what a godly man her father was, and how he would reprove and correct vice, both in his house, and among his neighbours; what a strict and holy life he lived in his days, both in word and deed.”
― John Bunyan, Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners

“My father never put a book into my hands and never forbade a book. Instead, he let me roam and graze, making my own more or less appropriate selections. I read gory tales of historic heroism that nine-teenth century parents were suitable for children, and gothic ghost stories that were surely not; I read accounts of arduous travel through treacherous lands undertaken by spinsters in crinolines, and I read handbooks on decorum and etiquette intended for young ladies of good family; I read books with pictures and books without; books in English, books in French, books in languages I didn't understand where I could make up stories in my head on the basis of a handful of guessed-at words. Books. Books. And books.”
― Diane Setterfield, The Thirteenth Tale

“That's going to be my last trip. This trading in n***ers is a bad business for a fellow that's got any heart.”
― Harriet Ann Jacobs, Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl

“And there the wicked witch stayed for a long long time.'
Did she ever come out?'
Not yet.”
― Gregory Maguire

“On the average, a person who cares for other people, for his country, or for mankind, is a happier man than one who does not; but of what use is it to preach this doctrine to a man who cares for nothing but his own ease, or his own pocket? He cannot care for other people if he would. It is like preaching to the worm who crawls on the ground, how much better it would be for him if he were an eagle.”
― John Stuart Mill, On Liberty and Other Essays

“»Nace una mosca efímera a las nueve de la mañana y muere a las cinco de la tarde: ¿cómo puede comprender la palabra noche? Concededle cinco horas más de vida, y entonces verá la noche y sabrá qué es.”
― Stendhal, Rojo y Negro

“How could I ever have considered marrying him? One year as his wife, and I'd have become one of those abject, quaking women who look at their husbands when someone asks them a question. I've always despised that type, but I see how it happens now.”
― Mary Ann Shaffer, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society