“the way i see it, hard times aren't only about money, or drought, or dust. hard times are about losing spirit, and hope, and what happens when dreams dry up.”
“And I know now that all the time I was trying to get
out of the dust,
the fact is,
what I am,
I am because of the dust.
And what I am is good enough.
Even for me.”
“The way I see it, hard times aren't only about money,
or drought,
or dust.
Hard times are about losing spirit,
and hope,
and what happens when dreams dry up.”
“I hear the first drops. Like the tapping of a stranger at the door of a dream, the rain changes everything.”
“I have a hunger,
for more than food.
I have a hunger
bigger than Joyce City.
I want tongues to tie, and
eyes to shine at me
like they do at Mad Dog Craddock.
Course they never will,
not with my hands all scarred up,
looking like the earth itself,
all parched and rough and cracking,
but if I played right enough,
maybe they would see past my hands.
Maybe they could feel at ease with me again,
and maybe then,
I could feel at east with myself.”
“each day after class lets out,each morning before it begins, i sit at the school piano and make my hands work. in spite of the pain, in spite of the stiffness and scars. i make my hands play piano.i have practiced my best piece over and over till my arms throb.”
“Apples
Ma's apple blossoms
have turned to hard green balls.
To eat them now,
so tart,
would turn my mouth inside out,
would make my stomach groan.
But in just a couple months,
after the baby is born,
those apples will be ready
and we'll make pies
and sauce
and pudding
and dumplings
and cake
and cobbler
and have just plain apples to take to school
and slice with my pocket knife
and eat one juicy piece at a time
until my mouth is clean
and fresh
and my breath is nothing but apple.
June 1934”
“I turn my back on him as he goes,
and settle myself in the parlor,
and touch Ma's piano.
My fingers leave sighs
in the dust.”
“When I rode the train west,
I went looking for something,
but I didn't see anything wonderful.
I didn't see anything better than what I already had.
Home.”
“...the morning with the whole day waiting,
full of promise,
the night
of quiet, of no expectations, of rest.
And the certainty of home, the one I live in,
and the one
that lives in me.”
“By the summer I turned nine Daddy had given up about having a boy. He tried making me do.”
“And she knows how to come into a home
and not step on the toes of a ghost.”
“His mother is wishing her boy would come home."
Lots of mothers wishing that these days,
while their sons walk to California,
where rain comes,
and the color green doesn't seem like such a miracle,
and hope rises daily, like sap in a stem.”
“Mr. Noble and Mr. Romney have a bet going as to who can kill the most rabbits. It all started at the rabbit drive last Monday over to Sturgis”
“Ivy Huxford kept peeking out and giving reports of who was there, and how she never saw so many seats filled in the Palace, and that she didn’t think they could squeeze a rattlesnake into the back even if he paid full price, the place was so packed.”
“God doesn't want people to do what they think is best: he wants them to do what he knows is best, and no amount of reasoning and intellectualizing will discover that.”
“Când Platon se îndoia dacă locul femeii se află printre vietuitoarele înzestrate cu judecată sau printre cele lipsite de minte, voia doar să arate prostia nemăsurată a sexului frumos. Femeia e tot femeie, orice ar face, adică tot proastă, oricât s-ar strădui să se prefacă. Încă nu-mi vine a crede să fie femeile aşa de proaste încât să le supere cele ce am spus aici. Sunt doar de acelaşi sex cu ele, sunt Prostia. Dovedindu-le proaste nu le fac oare supremul elogiu? Şi, la o dreaptă cumpănire, ar trebui să vadă că mie, Prostiei, îmi datorează ele fericirea lor cu mult mai mare decât a bărbatilor. Nu eu le-am dat farmecele şi aţâţările, pe care cu drept cuvânt le socotesc ele mai de preţ decât orice şi care le ajută să-i înlănţuiască până şi pe cei mai crunţi tirani? De unde vine oare sluţenia bărbaţilor, cu pielea lor plină de păr, cu barba aceea ca o pădure, de par bătrâni şi în floarea vârstei? De la cel mai mare dintre vicii, înţelepciunea. Dimpotrivă, femeile au obraji catifelati, vorbă cristalină, piele netedă, tot atâtea semne ale unei tinereţi veşnice. Au ele vreo altă dorinţă în viaţă decât să placă bărbaţilor? Gătelile, sulemenelile, băile, dichisirea părului, parfumurile, mirodeniile şi toate celelalte care slujesc la înfrumuseţarea chipului, ochilor ori ascund beteşugurile, nu sunt inchinate acestui scop? Şi nu prostia le ajută pe femei să şi-l atingă? Dacă bărbaţii îndură fără crâcnire toanele femeilor, o fac ei oare din alt motiv decât pentru că aşteaptă ca ele să-i răsplătească dăruindu-le plăcere? Iar plăcerea e totuna cu prostia. Cine ia aminte la toate neroziile pe care le spune şi la toate prostiile pe care le săvârşeşte bărbatul care vrea să intre pe sub pielea unei femei nici că are nevoie de mai bună dovadă.”
“My body filled with relief, and I suddenly craved more of Austin, as if he weren’t just a cracker, but a Ritz.”
“Honey, have you seen my measuring tape?”
“I think it’s in that drawer in the kitchen with the scissors, matches, bobby pins, Scotch tape, nail clippers, barbecue tongs, garlic press, extra buttons, old birthday cards, soy sauce packets thick rubber bands, stack of Christmas napkins, stained take-out menus, old cell-phone chargers, instruction booklet for the VCR, some assorted nickels, an incomplete deck of cards, extra chain links for a watch, a half-finished pack of cough drops, a Scrabble piece I found while vacuuming, dead batteries we aren’t fully sure are dead yet, a couple screws in a tiny plastic bag left over from the bookshelf, that lock with the forgotten combination, a square of carefully folded aluminum foil, and expired pack of gum, a key to our old house, a toaster warranty card, phone numbers for unknown people, used birthday candles, novelty bottle openers, a barbecue lighter, and that one tiny little spoon.”
“Thanks, honey.”
AWESOME!”
“Spoons are excellent. Sort of like forks, only not as stabby.”
BookQuoters is a community of passionate readers who enjoy sharing the most meaningful, memorable and interesting quotes from great books. As the world communicates more and more via texts, memes and sound bytes, short but profound quotes from books have become more relevant and important. For some of us a quote becomes a mantra, a goal or a philosophy by which we live. For all of us, quotes are a great way to remember a book and to carry with us the author’s best ideas.
We thoughtfully gather quotes from our favorite books, both classic and current, and choose the ones that are most thought-provoking. Each quote represents a book that is interesting, well written and has potential to enhance the reader’s life. We also accept submissions from our visitors and will select the quotes we feel are most appealing to the BookQuoters community.
Founded in 2023, BookQuoters has quickly become a large and vibrant community of people who share an affinity for books. Books are seen by some as a throwback to a previous world; conversely, gleaning the main ideas of a book via a quote or a quick summary is typical of the Information Age but is a habit disdained by some diehard readers. We feel that we have the best of both worlds at BookQuoters; we read books cover-to-cover but offer you some of the highlights. We hope you’ll join us.