Phebe Uhlenhopp > Phebe's Quotes

“How can I be friendly to someone who clearly wants no friends?”
― Mark M. Bello, Betrayal High

“Sometimes when I’ve felt despondent for several days, it helps to discipline myself by saying, ‘I’m going to think only positive thoughts.’ Enough is enough!”
― Larry Godwin, Transcending Depression: Quest Without a Compass

“The word cure is often misconstrued as remission and, conversely, remission is often thought to mean cure. Unfortunately, those words are mutually exclusive and can be painful when misunderstood or misused.”
― Lynda Wolters, Voices of Cancer: What We Really Want, What We Really Need

“Monique bit at the side of lip. “He’s pretty active, I don’t want to impose…”
Tony stood and scooped up the puppy. “No, seriously, I’d love a little company.”
― Kirsten Fullmer, Problems at the Pub

“Años de acarrear el agua, retorcer la colada, fregar los suelos, vaciar los orinales, sin que la belleza o el color o la luz entraran en mi vida, se extendían ante mí como una paisaje llano en el que se divisa el mar a lo lejos, pero nunca puedes alcanzarlo. Si no podía trabajar fabricando los colores, si no podía estar cerca de él, no sabía cómo iba a poder seguir trabajando en aquella casa.”
― Tracy Chevalier, Girl with a Pearl Earring

“Love doesn't spurt up like an instant bonfire, consuming all reason, it flickers and falters, and sometimes almost goes out. The fact that it doesn't go out, despite all the rain that fall on it--that's love.”
― V.C. Andrews, Gods of Green Mountain

“Happy he who was able to know the causes of things (felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas), and who trampled beneath his feet all fears, inexorable fate, and the roar of devouring hell.”
― Virgil, Georgics: Vol 1, Books I-II

“Finally, the lock clicked and she tugged the secret door open. A rotten stench hit her like a fist. She drew away. The boy at her side recoiled, afraid. Sarah fell to her knees. Sarah could not speak, she could only quiver, her fingers covering her eyes, her nose, blocking out the smell.....She sank to her knees again and she screamed at the top of her lungs, she screamed, for her mother, for her father, screamed for Michel.”
― Tatiana de Rosnay, Sarah's Key

“I came here to be happy, and I’m going to be happy. If I smile, then maybe I can convince my body just how happy I am.”
― lisa see, Dreams of Joy

“[...] but it's aw hate, hate, hate wi some punters, and whair does it git us likesay, man? Whair the fuck does it git us?”
― Irvine Welsh, Trainspotting

“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

“It was amazing how a crisis could concentrate some minds while others went to pieces. Things had gone disastrously wrong in the last few days for Adam. His only worry before finding the book had been how to keep his girlfriend Linda without marrying her in the process. A contest he had lost.”
― Max Nowaz, Get Rich or Get Lucky

“Jesus man! You don't look for acid! Acid finds you when *it* thinks you're ready.”
― Hunter S. Thompson

“What shall I do?" she asked in a small voice.
"Forget your own self," he said.
"But all these years," she urged, "I have so carefully fulfilled my duty."
"Always with the thought of your own freedom in your mind," he said.
She could not deny it. She sat motionless, her hands folded on the pearl-gray satin of her robe. "Direct me," she said at last.
"Instead of your own freedom, think how you can free others," he said gently.
She lifted her head.
"From yourself," he said still gently.”
― Pearl S. Buck, Pavilion of Women

“Bite me”
― Rachel Caine, Glass Houses

“Can I try the dryler?"

"No. No." Eyvinder grabbed it and held it to his breast. "Jonathan, I must make a confession." He grinned. "This is really a stone I painted to resemble a dryler. It's very good, no? I have done a beautiful job making it into a dryler. I wanted to give you a full Faroese meal in all its typicality, Anna and I both wanted this. But Anna cannot make dryler. Nobody can make them anymore. We've forgotten how, because they are so stinking bad to eat. They are just like rocks to eat. So, I decided,why not take a rock and make it into a dryler? It's conceptive art, isn't it?"

"Conceptual," said Jonathan”
― Susanna Kaysen, Far Afield

“A death is like a ripple on the lake, lasting much longer than the impact that created it.”
― Ammar Habib, The Orphans of Kashmir

“What have you come to Earth for?'
'I'm having difficulties with a flower,' the little prince said.
'Ah!' said the snake.
And they were both silent.”
― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince