Marshall Cabreja > Marshall's Quotes

“Various large trees— willowy peppers and especially the pines—seem to be reaching down to hold your hand.”
― Tom Hillman, Digging for God

“The image of the sensual, sleep-laden Naomi made him smile. And wish he’d been lying on the pillow next to her when she’d opened her eyes. Lucky pillow.”
― Lotchie Burton, Gabriel's Fire

“If you want to be great, you have to be a leader. You’ve got to listen to me, son. That’s what we brought you here to do, to be a leader. And you can do it.”
― Vernon Davis, Playing Ball: Life Lessons from My Journey to the Super Bowl and Beyond

“Joey was surprised that plants could be used to clean water. Then, he had a funny thought. He imagined a dandelion standing at a sink while it washed Water just like his parents when they washed the dishes. He started to laugh.”
― Ellen J. Lewinberg, Joey and His Friend Water

“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

“I’m sure everyone’s sorry and said they’re sorry, and you’ve heard it a thousand times. We all mean well, by the way. We just don’t have words.”
I rubbed a hand over my forehead. Maybe that was the end of it. A little different than the standard lines. She meant well. Good talk. “It’s fine. Most people just say ‘sorry.’ I don’t need a speech.”
“I’m not, though.” Her hair swished against my arm as she shook her head. “It’s sad your mother died. It is. Because of all the things she’ll miss. It’s very sad. But, I’m glad she lived.”  ”
― J. Rose Black, Chasing Headlines

“Just because a thing can't be logged, charted, and summarized doesn't mean it isn't real.”
― David Wroblewski, The Story of Edgar Sawtelle

“Pulaski, the tenant in 3C, always said. But no one”
― Ellen Raskin, The Westing Game

“She remembers the pain of losing him, but she smiles at the happiness he brought her, cherishing the joy she felt at his side.”
― Alan Brennert, Daughter of Moloka'i

“I have no enemies. I dont permit such a thing. ”
― Cormac McCarthy, No Country for Old Men

“Writing is too goddamned hard for me to think about a soul in teh world ... I don't think about a soul, but just try to get those goddamned characters to act right.”
― Ernest J. Gaines, Conversations with Ernest Gaines

“She was the trembler of knees, the spiller of teacups.”
― Khaled Hosseini, And the Mountains Echoed