George Selden · 176 pages
Rating: (53.7K votes)
“I guess I'm just feeling Septemberish," sighed Chester. "It's getting towards autumn now. And it's so pretty up in Connecticut. All the trees change color. The days get very clear―with a little smoke on the horizon from burning leaves. Pumpkins begin to come out.”
― George Selden, quote from The Cricket in Times Square
“Talent is something rare and beautiful and precious,
and it must not be allowed to go to waste.”
― George Selden, quote from The Cricket in Times Square
“Chester's playing filled the station. Like ripples around a stone dropped into still water, the circles of silence spread out from the newsstand. And as people listened, a change came over their faces. Eyes that looked worried grew soft and peaceful; tongues left off chattering; and ears full of the city's rustling were rested by the cricket's melody.”
― George Selden, quote from The Cricket in Times Square
“Neatness was not one of the things he aimed at in life.”
― George Selden, quote from The Cricket in Times Square
“Just this once, in the very heart of the busiest of cities, everyone was perfectly content not to move and hardly to breathe. And for those few minutes, while the song lasted, Times Square was still as a meadow at evening, with the sun streaming in on the people there and the wind moving among them as if they were only tall blades of grass.”
― George Selden, quote from The Cricket in Times Square
“Tucker the mouse said I learned the value of ecomonicness - which means savings.”
― George Selden, quote from The Cricket in Times Square
George Selden
Born place: in Hartford, Connecticut, The United States
Born date May 14, 1929
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“And every day there is music. One dark voice will start a phrase, half-sung, and like a question. And after a moment another voice will join in, soon the whole gang will be singing. The voices are dark in the golden glare, the music intricately blended, both somber and joyful. The music will swell until at last it seems that the sound does not come from the twelve men on the gang, but from the earth itself, or the wide sky. It is music that causes the heart to broaden and the listener to grow cold with ecstasy and fright. Then slowly the music will sink down until at last there remains one lonely voice, then a great hoarse breath, the sun, the sound of the picks in the silence.
And what kind of gang is this that can make such music? Just twelve mortal men, seven of them black and five of them white boys from this country. Just twelve mortal men who are together.”
― Carson McCullers, quote from The Ballad of the Sad Café and Other Stories
“You forget all of it anyway. First, you forget everything you learned-the dates of the Hay-Herran Treaty and Pythagorean Theorem. You especially forget everything you didn't really learn, but just memorized the night before. You forget the names of all but one or two of your teachers, and eventually you'll forget those, too. You forget your junior class schedule and where you used to sit and your best friend's home phone number and the lyrics to that song you must have played a million times. For me, it was something by Simon & Garfunkel. Who knows what it will be for you? And eventually, but slowly, oh so slowly, you forget your humiliations-even the ones that seemed indelible just fade away. You forget who was cool and who was not, who was pretty, smart, athletic, and not. Who went to a good college. Who threw the best parties Who could get you pot. You forget all of them. Even the ones you said you loved, and even the ones you actually did. They're the last to go. And then once you've forgotten enough, you love someone else.”
― Gabrielle Zevin, quote from Memoirs of a Teenage Amnesiac
“Others made you into who you were. You made yourself into what you have become.”
― Terry Goodkind, quote from Chainfire
“That's the trouble with having the whole world love you. One day, you wake up and it's flirting with your best friend instead. And you don't know what to do. You're thrown.”
― Sophie Kinsella, quote from Shopaholic Takes Manhattan
“What a stroke of luck, that the woman he loves is also his wife.”
― Ian McEwan, quote from Saturday
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