“There is only one page left to write on. I will fill it with words of only one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love.”
“Noble deeds and hot baths are the best cures for depression.”
“How I wish I lived in a Jane Austen novel!”
“I shouldn't think even millionaires could eat anything nicer than new bread and real butter and honey for tea.”
“I only want to write. And there's no college for that except life.”
“When I read a book, I put in all the imagination I can, so that it is almost like writing the book as well as reading it - or rather, it is like living it. It makes reading so much more exciting, but I don't suppose many people try to do it.”
“I write this sitting in the kitchen sink.”
“Perhaps watching someone you love suffer can teach you even more than suffering yourself can.”
“Why is summer mist romantic and autumn mist just sad?”
“Contemplation seems to be about the only luxury that costs nothing.”
“I like seeing people when they can't see me.”
“I am a restlessness inside a stillness inside a restlessness.”
“Even a broken heart doesn't warrant a waste of good paper.”
“...I have noticed that when things happen in one's imaginings, they never happen in one's life, so I am curbing myself.”
“Perhaps if I make myself write I shall find out what is wrong with me.”
“And no bathroom on earth will make up for marrying a bearded man you hate.”
“Only the margin left to write on now. I love you, I love you, I love you.”
“He stood staring into the wood for a minute, then said: "What is it about the English countryside — why is the beauty so much more than visual? Why does it touch one so?"
He sounded faintly sad. Perhaps he finds beauty saddening — I do myself sometimes. Once when I was quite little I asked father why this was and he explained that it was due to our knowledge of beauty's evanescence, which reminds us that we ourselves shall die. Then he said I was probably too young to understand him; but I understood perfectly.”
“Just to be in love seemed the most blissful luxury I had ever known. The thought came to me that perhaps it is the loving that counts, not the being loved in return—that perhaps true loving can never know anything but happiness. For a moment I felt that I had discovered a great truth.”
“Oh, it is wonderful to wake up in the morning with things to look forward to!”
“I was wandering around as usual, in my unpleasantly populated sub-conscious...”
“Ah, but you're the insidious type--Jane Eyre with of touch of Becky Sharp. A thoroughly dangerous girl.”
“It is rather exciting to write by moonlight.”
“Truthfulness so often goes with ruthlessness. ”
“I have noticed that rooms which are extra clean feel extra cold”
“So many of the loveliest things in England are melancholy.”
“I suppose the best kind of spring morning is the best weather God has to offer.”
“It's odd how different a house feels when one is alone in it. It makes it easier to think rather private thoughts...”
“Rose doesn’t like the flat country, but I always did – flat country seems to give the sky such a chance.”
“There is something revolting about the way girls' minds so often jump to marriage long before they jump to love.”
“Gravity is a habit that is hard to shake off.”
“I don't know if mama was right, that we each have a destiny, or if if was Lt Dan, that we are all just floating around, accidental, like on a breeze, but I think... I think... maybe... it's both happening at the same time.”
“He leaned forward to inspect her closer. "Is that all hair?"
... Sudden, overwhelming panic clawed up Cress's throat. With a squeak, she ducked out of view of the camera and scrambled beneath the desk. Her back struck the wall with a thud that rattled her teeth. She crouched there, skin burning hot and pulse thundering as she took in the room before her— the room that he was now seeing too, with the rumpled bedcovers and the mustached man on all the screens telling her to grab her imaginary partner and swing them around.
"Wha—where'd she go?" Thorne's voice came to her through the screen.
"Honestly, Thorne." A girl. Linh Cinder? "Do you ever think before you speak?"
"What? What did I say?"
" 'Is that all hair?' "
"Did you see it? It was like a cross between a magpie nest and ball of yarn after it's been mauled by a cheetah."
A beat. Then, "A cheetah?"
"It was the first big cat that came to mind.”
“was electrified. I had never really thought the queen could have truly loved Hadley, but I saw now that she had, as much as she was able. We watched Hadley glance at the television from time to time while she painted her toenails, drank a phantom glass of blood, and made a phone call. We couldn’t hear her. We could only see, and that within a limited range. The object she reached for would appear the minute her hand touched it, but not before, so you could be sure of what she had only when she began to use it. When she leaned forward to replace the glass of”
“You get born and you try this and you don't know why only you keep on trying it and you are born at the same time with a lot of other people, all mixed up with them, like trying to, having to, move your arms and legs with strings only the same strings are hitched to all the other arms and legs and the others all trying and they don't know why either except that the strings are all in one another's way like five or six people all trying to make a rug on the same loom only each one wants to weave his own pattern into the rug; and it can't matter, you know that, or the Ones that set up the loom would have arranged things a little better, and yet it must matter because you keep on trying or having to keep on trying and then all of a sudden it's all over.”
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