“Truth is eternal. Knowledge is changeable. It is disastrous to confuse them.”
― Madeleine L'Engle, quote from An Acceptable Time
“My dear, I'm seldom sure of anything. Life at best is a precarious business, and we aren't told that difficult or painful things won't happen, just that it matters. It matters not just to us but to the entire universe.”
― Madeleine L'Engle, quote from An Acceptable Time
“But if I knew everything, there would be no wonder, because what I believe in is far more than I know.”
― Madeleine L'Engle, quote from An Acceptable Time
“My dear, I'm seldom sure of anything. Life at best is a precarious business...”
― Madeleine L'Engle, quote from An Acceptable Time
“Okay, Polly,” her grandfather said. “Let’s have some normal, ordinary lesson time. What is Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle?”
― Madeleine L'Engle, quote from An Acceptable Time
Madeleine L'Engle
Born place: in New York City, New York, The United States
Born date November 29, 1918
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“When Mary Shelley took a local legend based on truth and crafted fiction from it, she’d made Victor a tragic figure and killed him off. He understood her dramatic purpose for giving him a death scene, but he loathed her for portraying him as tragic and as a failure.”
― Dean Koontz, quote from Prodigal Son
“When you are mad, mad like this, you don't know it. Reality is what you see. When what you see shifts, departing from anyone else's reality, it's still reality to you.”
― Marya Hornbacher, quote from Madness: A Bipolar Life
“Then she would be done with J. D. Jameson forever. No more having to prove herself; no more of those pesky jitters she felt whenever she saw him at work—something like butterflies in her stomach, it was actually quite annoying; no more stress; no more fights in the library; and definitely no more sexy I’m-gonna-kiss-you-now-woman blue-eyed heated gazes.
She had no idea why she just thought that.”
― Julie James, quote from Practice Makes Perfect
“Lucinda might sneak from her own house at midnight to place a wager somewhere else, but she dared not touch the pack that lay in her own sideboard. She knew how passionate he had become about his 'weakness.' She dared not even ask him how it was he had reversed his opinions on the matter. But, oh, how she yearned to discuss it with him, how much she wished to deal a hand on a grey wool blanket. There would be no headaches then, only this sweet consummation of their comradeship.
But she said not a word. And although she might have her 'dainty' shoes tossed to the floor, have her bare toes quite visible through her stockings, have a draught of sherry in her hand, in short appear quite radical, she was too timid, she thought, too much a mouse, to reveal her gambler's heart to him. She did not like this mouselike quality. As usual, she found herself too careful, too held in.
Once she said: 'I wish I had ten sisters and a big kitchen to laugh in.'
Her lodger frowned and dusted his knees.
She thought: He is as near to a sister as I am likely to get, but he does not understand.
She would have had a woman friend so they could brush each other's hair, and just, please God, put aside this great clanking suit of ugly armor.
She kept her glass dreams from him, even whilst she appeared to talk about them. He was an admiring listener, but she only showed him the opaque skin of her dreams--window glass, the price of transporting it, the difficulties with builders who would not pay their bills inside six months. He imagined this was her business, and of course it was, but all the things she spoke of were a fog across its landscape which was filled with such soaring mountains she would be embarrassed to lay claim to them. Her true ambition, the one she would not confess to him, was to build something Extraordinary and Fine from glass and cast iron. A conservatory, but not a conservatory. Glass laced with steel, spun like a spider web--the idea danced around the periphery of her vision, never long enough to be clear. When she attempted to make a sketch, it became diminished, wooden, inelegant. Sometimes, in her dreams, she felt she had discovered its form, but if she had, it was like an improperly fixed photograph which fades when exposed to daylight. She was wise enough, or foolish enough, to believe this did not matter, that the form would present itself to her in the end.”
― Peter Carey, quote from Oscar and Lucinda
“You can’t order the waves to be silent, madame,” Baldanders told her. “They are coming, and they are bitter with salt.”
― Gene Wolfe, quote from The Urth of the New Sun
Nevermore
Written in My Own He...
The Laughing Corpse
Light
Lover Reborn
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