Anna Beyer > Anna's Quotes

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  • #1
    Jerry Spinelli
    “She was elusive. She was today. She was tomorrow. She was the faintest scent of a cactus flower, the flitting shadow of an elf owl. We did not know what to make of her. In our minds we tried to pin her to a cork board like a butterfly, but the pin merely went through and away she flew.”
    Jerry Spinelli, Stargirl

  • #2
    Sylvia Plath
    “I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted
    to lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.
    How free it is, you have no idea how free.”
    Sylvia Plath, Ariel

  • #3
    “He didn’t give me flowers or candy. He gave me the moon and the stars. Infinity

    -Belly Conklin-”
    Jenny Han, We'll Always Have Summer

  • #4
    Tom Mueller
    “Once someone tries a real extra virgin -- an adult or a child, anybody with taste buds -- they'll never go back to the fake kind. It's distinctive, complex, the freshest thing you've ever eaten. It makes you realize how rotten the other stuff is, literally rotten. But there has to be a first time. Somehow we have to get those first drops of real extra virgin oil into their mouths, to break them free from the habituation to bad oil, and from the brainwashing of advertising. There has to be some good oil left in the world for people to taste.”
    Tom Mueller, Extra Virginity: The Sublime and Scandalous World of Olive Oil

  • #5
    J.R.R. Tolkien
    “If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”
    J.R.R. Tolkien

  • #6
    Virginia Woolf
    “One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.”
    Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own

  • #7
    George Bernard Shaw
    “There is no love sincerer than the love of food.”
    George Bernard Shaw, BBC Radio presents Man and superman

  • #8
    “Humor keeps us alive. Humor and food. Don't forget food. You can go a week without laughing.”
    Joss Whedon

  • #9
    Mark Twain
    “Part of the secret of success in life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside.”
    Mark Twain

  • #10
    Erma Bombeck
    “I am not a glutton - I am an explorer of food”
    Erma Bombeck

  • #11
    Voltaire
    “Ice-cream is exquisite. What a pity it isn't illegal.”
    Voltaire
    tags: food

  • #12
    Kurt Vonnegut Jr.
    “You can't just eat good food. You've got to talk about it too. And you've got to talk about it to somebody who understands that kind of food.”
    Kurt Vonnegut, Jailbird

  • #13
    Ernest Hemingway
    “As I ate the oysters with their strong taste of the sea and their faint metallic taste that the cold white wine washed away, leaving only the sea taste and the succulent texture, and as I drank their cold liquid from each shell and washed it down with the crisp taste of the wine, I lost the empty feeling and began to be happy and to make plans.”
    Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

  • #14
    Erma Bombeck
    “The odds of going to the store for a loaf of bread and coming out with only a loaf of bread are three billion to one.”
    Erma Bombeck

  • #15
    Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin
    “The discovery of a new dish does more for the happiness of the human race than the discovery of a star.”
    Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, The Physiology of Taste: Or, Meditations on Transcendental Gastronomy

  • #16
    Coco J. Ginger
    “Sometimes you want to say, “I love you, but…”
    Yet the “but” takes away the ‘I love you’. In love their are no ‘buts’ or ‘if’s’ or ‘when’. It’s just there, and always. No beginning, no end. It’s the condition-less state of the heart. Not a feeling that comes and goes at the whim of the emotions. It is there in our heart, a part of our heart…eventually grafting itself into each limb and cell of our bodies. Love changes our brain, the way we move and talk. Love lives in our spirit and graces us with its presence each day, until death.

    To say “I love you, but….” is to say, “I did not love you at all”.

    I say this to you now: I love you, with no beginning, no end. I love you as you have become an extra necessary organ in my body. I love you as only a girl could love a boy. Without fear. Without expectations. Wanting nothing in return, except that you allow me to keep you here in my heart, that I may always know your strength, your eyes, and your spirit that gave me freedom and let me fly.”
    Jamie Weise

  • #17
    W.B. Yeats
    “A mermaid found a swimming lad,
    Picked him up for her own,
    Pressed her body to his body,
    Laughed; and plunging down
    Forgot in cruel happiness
    That even lovers drown.”
    W.B. Yeats

  • #18
    Anna Akhmatova
    “You will hear thunder and remember me,
    and think: she wanted storms...”
    Anna Akhmatova

  • #19
    Anna Akhmatova
    “You will hear thunder and remember me,
    And think: she wanted storms. The rim
    Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson,
    And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.”
    Anna Akhmatova, The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova

  • #20
    F. Scott Fitzgerald
    “Through all he said, even through his appalling sentimentality, I was reminded of something-an elusive rhythm, a fragment of lost words, that I heard somewhere a long time ago. For a moment a phrase tried to take shape in my mouth and my lips parted like a dumb man's, as though there was more struggling upon them than a wisp of startled air. But they made no sound and what I had almost remembered was uncommunicable forever.”
    F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

  • #21
    Anna Akhmatova
    “You invented me. There is no such earthly being,
    Such an earthly being there could never be.
    A doctor cannot cure, a poet cannot comfort—
    A shadowy apparition haunts you night and day.
    We met in an unbelievable year,
    When the world's strength was at an ebb,
    Everything withered by adversity,
    And only the graves were fresh.
    Without streetlights, the Neva's waves were black as pitch,
    Thick night enclosed me like a wall ...
    That's when my voice called out to you!
    Why it did—I still don't understand.
    And you came to me, as if guided by a star
    That tragic autumn, stepping
    Into that irrevocably ruined house,
    From whence had flown a flock of burnt verse.”
    Anna Akhmatova, The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova

  • #22
    Julien Green
    “But nowadays my heart is empty and the boxwood has lost its magic scent; yes, absolutely and entirely. The creature that I was no longer exists. When I speak to her she does not understand me; I think of her, already, as of some one I have known but who no longer has any connection with myself.

    This sort of death of part of oneself strikes terror into my heart.
    Life presents itself to me as a progressive series of annihilations, until in time one arrives at the general destruction of all memory and the barren slumber of one's conscience.”
    Julien Green, Le Visionnaire
    tags: life, love

  • #23
    Barry Lyga
    “We can know what love is. It’s adults who have forgotten, so they cling to their poor substitute and yell at kids who dare to live with real love. Pure love. Love without compromise or distraction. Hell, when you’re a kid you’ve got all the energy and all the free time in the world. You’ll never have the chance to devote more to love ever again in your life.”
    Barry Lyga, Boy Toy

  • #24
    Audrey Niffenegger
    “Long ago, men went to sea, and women waited for them, standing on the edge of the water, scanning the horizon for the tiny ship. Now I wait for Henry. He vanishes unwillingly, without warning. I wait for him. Each moment that I wait feels like a year, an eternity. Each moment is as slow and transparent as glass. Through each moment I can see infinite moments lined up, waiting. Why has he gone where I cannot follow?”
    Audrey Niffenegger, The Time Traveler's Wife

  • #25
    Haruki Murakami
    “Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.

    And you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You'll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others.

    And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about.”
    Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

  • #26
    Jack Kerouac
    “I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn't know who I was - I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I'd never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn't know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn't scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost.”
    Jack Kerouac, On the Road

  • #27
    Rainer Maria Rilke
    “The point of marriage is not to create a quick commonality by tearing down all boundaries; on the contrary, a good marriage is one in which each partner appoints the other to be the guardian of his solitude, and thus they show each other the greatest possible trust. A merging of two people is an impossibility, and where it seems to exist, it is a hemming-in, a mutual consent that robs one party or both parties of their fullest freedom and development. But once the realization is accepted that even between the closest people infinite distances exist, a marvelous living side-by-side can grow up for them, if they succeed in loving the expanse between them, which gives them the possibility of always seeing each other as a whole and before an immense sky.”
    Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

  • #28
    David Foster Wallace
    “We all have our little solipsistic delusions, ghastly intuitions of utter singularity: that we are the only one in the house who ever fills the ice-cube tray, who unloads the clean dishwasher, who occasionally pees in the shower, whose eyelid twitches on first dates; that only we take casualness terribly seriously; that only we fashion supplication into courtesy; that only we hear the whiny pathos in a dog’s yawn, the timeless sigh in the opening of the hermetically-sealed jar, the splattered laugh in the frying egg, the minor-D lament in the vacuum’s scream; that only we feel the panic at sunset the rookie kindergartner feels at his mother’s retreat. That only we love the only-we. That only we need the only-we. Solipsism binds us together, J.D. knows. That we feel lonely in a crowd; stop not to dwell on what’s brought the crowd into being. That we are, always, faces in a crowd.”
    David Foster Wallace, Girl with Curious Hair

  • #29
    “Let the world kiss you, sister. Let the moment kiss the most raw and tender spot in your heart until you cannot help but surrender, open.”
    Chameli Ardagh

  • #30
    David Foster Wallace
    “The really important kind of freedom involves attention, and awareness, and discipline, and effort, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them, over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways, every day.”
    David Foster Wallace, This Is Water: Some Thoughts, Delivered on a Significant Occasion, about Living a Compassionate Life



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