Famous Quotes Ipsum

Word Lists: Famous Quotes

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Never trust the artist. trust the tale. the way i see it, the men that i'm with, whoever they are, it's like look, you have to accept that i like ice cream, and i know it shows up on my hips but if you can't accept that, then leave. go away. toodles. it is non-negotiable. to read a writer, for me, is not merely to get an idea of what he says, but to go off with him and travel in his company. is it oblivion or absorption when things pass from our minds? our day-to-day life is bombarded with fortuities, or, to be more precise, with the accidental meetings of people and events we call coincidence. prayer is not an old woman's idle amusement. properly understood and applied, it is the most potent instrument of action. when i have a terrible need of - shall i say the word? - religion, then i go out and paint the stars. never judge a book by its movie. the form of government most suitable to the artist is no government at all. we shall not cease from exploration - and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started - and know the place for the first time. when you are content to be simply yourself and don't compare or compete, everybody will respect you. if any individual live too much in relations, so that he becomes a stranger to the resources of his own nature, he falls, after awhile, into a distraction, or imbecility, from which he can only be cured by a time of isolation, which gives the renovating fountains time to rise up. we are the music makers and we are the dreamers of dreams. humor is something that thrives between man's aspirations and his limitations. there is more logic in humor than in anything else. because, you see, humor is truth. blessed are ye that weep now: for ye shall laugh. love is an action of taking notice. oh, i just want to be wonderful. lurid isn't your style. one cannot live well, love well, or sleep well unless one has dined well. you will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm. i leaned down... and kissed him. and the world cracked open. i am not an angry girl / but it seems like / i've got everyone fooled / every time i say something / they find hard to hear / they chalk it up to my anger / and never to their own fear the idea behind the tuxedo is the woman's point of view that 'men are all the same, so we might as well dress them that way.' that's why a wedding is like the joining together of a beautiful glowing bride and some guy. the tuxedo is a wedding safety device, created by women because they know men are undependable. so in case the groom chickens out, everybody just takes one step over, and and she marries the next guy. grief can take care of itself, but to get the full value of a joy you must have somebody to divide it with. if they try to tell you love fades with time / tell them there's no such thing as time the imagination has resources and intimations we don't even know about..

Love is a great beautifier. when i get a little money, i buy books; and, if any is left, i buy food and clothes. the longer i live the more i become convinced that the only thing that matters in literature is the writer is first of all an enchanter. the writer should never be ashamed of staring. there is nothing that does not require his attention. it was only the first of many occasions during those months that seemed to take place out of time, or in a historical moment i had yet to identify. think wrongly, if you please, but in all cases think for yourself. what i couldn't say was that the real reason was so much deeper and harder and that we spend our lives deceiving ourselves of these real reasons, perhaps because when they are clear they are too painful. we are governed not by armies and police but by ideas. footfalls echo in the memory / down the passage we did not take / towards the door we never opened / into the rose garden a wizard is never late. nor is he early. he arrives precisely when he means to. doubt thou the stars are fine / doubt that the sun doth move / doubt truth be a liar / but never doubt i love. watching stars without you, my soul cries goodbyes always make my throat hurt . . . i need more hellos. there i am in younger days, stargazing / painting picture perfect maps / of how my life and love would be / not counting the unmarked paths / of misdirection / my compass, faith in love's perfection / i missed ten million miles of road / i should have seen we grow neither better nor worse as we get old, but more like ourselves. i do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them a great deal. i find it very interesting that every time i turn around, someone wants to save my soul. isn't that arrogant? we all reject out of hand the idea that the love of our life may be something light or weightless; we presume our love is what must be, that without it our life would no longer be the same; we feel that beethoven himself, gloomy and awe-inspiring, is playing the 'es muss sein!' to our own great love. a single event can awaken within us a stranger totally unknown to us. to live is to be slowly born. there is no one alive who is you-er than you. there is the truth of history, and there is the truth of what a person remembers. as sidda sat at the edge of lake quinault, memory blossoms floated unbounded, as through breathed, no words spoken. like birds that fly across national borders, between countries at war with each other. if we would build on a sure foundation in friendship, we must love our friends for their sakes rather than for our own. our mothers are our most direct connection to our history and our gender. thou art to me a delicious torment. love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place. what "love" is i don't know if it's not the response of our deepest natures to one another. i always feel i have to take a stand / and there's always someone on hand / to hate me for standing there... / i always feel i have to open my mouth, / and every time i do, i offend someone somewhere... memory is a passion no less powerful or pervasive than love..

The blood jet is poetry, there is no stopping it. it takes two to speak truth - one to speak and another to hear. compassion can only attain its full breadth and depth if it embraces all living creatures and does not limit itself to mankind. maybe that's what bravery is, a stronger fear of not being brave. what i couldn't say was that the real reason was so much deeper and harder and that we spend our lives deceiving ourselves of these real reasons, perhaps because when they are clear they are too painful. i discovered i scream the same way whether i'm about to be devoured by a great white or if a piece of seaweed touches my foot. it's still snowing. and freezing. however, we haven't had an earthquake lately. i love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress and grow brave by reflection. i have the sense to recognize / that i don't know how to let you go how strange, this feeling that my life's begun at last.... i always wanted to be somebody. i guess i should've been more specific. a woman is her mother. / that's the main thing. it is never too late to give up your prejudices..
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