The waves were coming in under the thick, swirling sky, growing as slowly as trees as they bulged across the sea. They crouched as they neared the shore, arching their backs higher and higher, and then sprang up the beach as furiously as trapped animals bounding at a wall and falling back with a sobbing snarl to leap again and again, claws caked and breaking, while the ugly birds yelled mournfully. The waves were gray and green as pigeons until they broke, and then they were the color of the hair that blew across her eyes.
"There," a strange, high voice said close to her. "There they are." King Haggard was grinning at her and pointing down to the white water. "There they are," he said, laughing like a frightened child, "there they are. Say that they are not your people, say that you did not come here searching for them. Say now that you have stayed all winter in my castle for love."
Submitted on Fri, 2010-02-26 20:17 — Gabrielle
Link to full quote: Quote #2487 from The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle
He smiled understandingly--much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced--or seemed to face--the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just so far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey.
Submitted on Fri, 2010-02-26 17:45 — Gabrielle
Link to full quote: Quote #2484 from The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
" But I that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking glasse,
I that am rudely stampt and want loves majesty,
To strut before a wanton ambling Nymph:
I that am curtaild of this faire proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deformd, unfinished, sent before my time
Into this breathing world scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable,
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them:
Why I in this weak piping time of peace
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unlesse to spy my shadow in the sun,
And descant on mine own deformity:
And therefore since I cannot prove a lover
To entertaine these faire well spoken days
I am determined to prove a villain,"
Submitted on Sun, 2010-01-31 02:42 — OddStatistic
Link to full quote: Quote #2463 from Richard III by William Shakespeare
Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains.
Submitted on Wed, 2010-01-20 22:15 — Gabrielle
Link to full quote: Quote #2458 from Walden by Henry David Thoreau
All those who try to unveil the mysteries always have tragic lives. At the end they are always punished.
Submitted on Wed, 2010-01-20 21:13 — Gabrielle
Link to full quote: Quote #2454 from The Mohican by Anaïs Nin
On the afternoon of the day that Mrs. Montague was expected, Eleanor went alone into the hills above Hill House, not really intending to arrive at any place in particular, not even caring where or how she went, wanting only to be secret and out from under the heavy dark wood of the house. She found a small spot where the grass was soft and dry and lay down, wondering how many years it had been since she had lain on soft grass to be alone to think. Around her the trees and wild flowers, with that oddly courteous air of natural things suddenly interrupted in their pressing occupations of growing and dying, turned toward her with attention, as though, dull and imperceptive as she was, it was still necessary for them to be gentle to a creation so unfortunate as not to be rooted in the ground, forced to go from one place to another, heart-breakingly mobile. Idly Eleanor picked a wild daisy, which died in her fingers, and, lying on the grass, looked up into its dead face. There was nothing in her mind beyond an overwhelming wild happiness. She pulled at the daisy, and wondered, smiling at herself, What am I going to do? What am I going to do?
Submitted on Wed, 2010-01-20 21:09 — Gabrielle
Link to full quote: Quote #2453 from The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson
About here, she thought, dabbling her fingers in the water, a ship had sunk, and she muttered, dreamily half asleep, how we perished, each alone.
Submitted on Wed, 2010-01-20 20:14 — Gabrielle
Link to full quote: Quote #2450 from To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf
I love your silences, they are like mine. You are the only being before whom I am not distressed by my own silences. You have a vehement silence, one feels it is charged with essences, it is a strangely alive silence, like a trap open over a well, from which one can hear the secret murmur of the earth itself.
Submitted on Wed, 2010-01-20 20:03 — Gabrielle
Link to full quote: Quote #2449 from Je suis le plus malade des Surrealistes by Anaïs Nin
If patterns of ones and zeros were "like" patterns of human lives and death, if everything about an individual could be represented in a computer record by a long string of ones and zeros, then what kind of creature would be represented by a long string of lives and deaths?
Submitted on Wed, 2009-12-30 18:49 — Gabrielle
Link to full quote: Quote #2440 from Vineland by Thomas Pynchon
And his fame lasts how long? It is permissible even for a dying hero to think before he dies how men will speak of him hereafter. His fame lasts perhaps two thousand years. And what are two thousand years? (asked Mr. Ramsay ironically, staring at the hedge). What, indeed, if you look from a mountain top down the long wastes of the ages? The very stone one kicks with one's boot will outlast Shakespeare.
Submitted on Tue, 2009-12-29 09:54 — Gabrielle
Link to full quote: Quote #2433 from To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf
