Quotes About Amsterdam

Quotes tagged as "amsterdam" (showing 1-30 of 40)
John Green
“Some tourists think Amsterdam is a city of sin, but in truth it is a city of freedom. And in freedom, most people find sin.”
John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

John Green
“He called out to his fellow monks,'Come quickly I am tasting stars.”
John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

John Green
“‎These little contradictions are in all of us. They're in me at least. And so I forgot that I had been awake for 30 hours and kept walking, grateful to be a little boat full of water, still floating.”
John Green

“You're always such a disappointment, Augustus. Couldn't you have at least gotten orange tomatoes?”
Hazel Grace Lancaster

John Green
“Thank you for letting me hijack your wish', I said.

'Thank you for wearing that dress which is like whoa," he said.”
John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

Jessie Burton
“The rules of this house are written in water. I must either sink or swim.”
Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

Jessie Burton
“The turnip cannot thrive in the tulips patch of soil.”
Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

Hafid Bouazza
“Hij genoot van de verschillende afvalcontainers die overal stonden, van de ingeblikte groenten in de ziekenhuiskoele winkels – supermarkten werden ze genoemd –, hij genoot van de trams en hun heupdans die de passagiers heen en weer schudde wanneer zij klingelend een bocht maakten, hij genoot van de bomen die overal voor schaduw zorgden, compleet met een kroost van groene houten banken en een vuilnisbak, hij genoot van de grachten, die rimpelend een wiegenlied voor hem zongen, hij genoot van de vooroverhellende en schuine grachtenpanden, hij genoot van de standbeelden bedekt met patina en duivenuitwerpselen, hij genoot van het bruisen van zo veel mensenlevens, hij genoot van de pleinen en de onberispelijke kantoorgebouwen met ramen waarin het universum weerkaatste, van de vele straatbelichting, de neonreclames – de stad was 's nachts een ware boomgaard van kleurig neon –, hij genoot van de markten waar het rook naar gezouten vis, gebrande noten en kaas, van de vele eethuizen die met de mensen mee waren geëmigreerd, hij genoot van de fietsers die elke verkeersregel overtraden, hij genoot van het stille lawaai en de zinderende sensualiteit die de meisjes uitwasemden en van verliefde stellen die hun liefde op straat uitstalden voor voorbijgangers, hij genoot van het wolkenheer, van de regens en de buien, van de natte zonnen op regendagen als beslagen brillenglazen, van de regenplassen en hun weerspiegelingen, hij genoot van de chaos, van de beierd ver weg tussen het hooi van zijn doofheid, hij genoot van de duiven, van de zwervers met hun winkelwagentjes vol onbegrijpelijke huisraad, van de drankschuiten die over de effen straten kapseisden, zijwaarts hellend door een overbelaste lever, hij genoot van de sissende venters van genotsmiddelen, hij genoot van de drukke winkelstraten waar alles wat men nodig had te koop was en alles wat men niet nodig had, hij genoot van de rosse buurten en de uitstalling van vrouwelijk vlees, dat niet aan duitloze hem besteed was, van de vele kroegen en bars waarin klanten dronken en kwetterden en zich ontlastten zoals de vogels in de johannesbroodboom van Cheira en Heira, hij genoot van de welvaart die de mensen zichtbaar goeddeed, vooral de vrouwen met hun papieren tassen vol nieuwe aankopen in de weekeinden en hun ontspannen roddels en koetjes en kalfjes op terrassen, op vensterbanken achter de geraniums, hij genoot van de broeders die steeds in aantal toenamen en hem eerbiedig bejegenden wanneer hij hun bedwelmende koopwaar weigerde, met eerbied want hij was een van hem en het deed hem goed om te zien dat ze hoe dan ook werk hadden gevonden, hij genoot van de levendige rusteloosheid van dit alles, van de Amstel die voor verfrissing zorgde en het land bevloeide en het meest genoot hij van de ultieme wonderen in het park, dat hij nu betrad.”
Hafid Bouazza, Paravion

Jessie Burton
“You are a stone, thrown upon a lake. But the ripples you create will never make you still.”
Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

Jessie Burton
“This city is like no other city in the world. It is brilliant but it is bloated, and I've never called it home”
Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

Jessie Burton
“There are horizons through the brickwork, you wait and see.”
Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

Jessie Burton
“From little seeds great flowers grow.”
Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

Jessie Burton
“The night darkens, the stars unfriendly, the cold a knife upon her neck - but Nella waits, until she can no longer difference between Johannes and the darkness that carries him away.”
Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

Graham Sclater
“Write whenever you can but choose a subject you know about and will want to work with for a few years or even longer...”
Graham Sclater, Ticket to Ride

Jessie Burton
“What was once, is no longer.”
Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

Jessie Burton
“Neighbours watching neighbours, twisting ropes to bind us all.”
Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

Jessie Burton
“We're nothing more than prisoners to your desire.”
Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

Jessie Burton
“Words are water in this city. One drop of rumour could drown us.”
Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

Jessie Burton
“Because, Petronella - it's something in his soul. It's something in his soul and you can't get it out.”
Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

Jessie Burton
“All we can do if we're lucky is stich up the mistakes other people make.”
Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

Jessie Burton
“That may be. But to decide that I was never going to live as a proper woman was not your choice to make.' 'What do you mean a proper woman?' 'A proper woman marries - she has children -' 'Then what does that make me? Am I not a proper woman? Last time I looked I certainly was.”
Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

Jessie Burton
“Love your children, for they are the seeds that will make this city bloom.”
Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

Jessie Burton
“I feel younger than eighteen but burdened as a eighty-year-old.”
Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

Jessie Burton
“Take care, take care. This city thrives! It's money gives you wings to soar. But it is a yoke on your shoulders and you would do well to take note of the bruise around your neck.”
Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

Jessie Burton
“Believe it or don't believe it, Madame. But my feet are tired too. Bloody tired. Like a dead man's.”
Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

Keren David
“And that's how we got arrested at the Stinkerlaas parade'.”
Keren David, This is Not a Love Story

Jessie Burton
“The ink was secret nectar, for Marin isn't married.”
Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

Corinne Duyvis
“There are skeletons in this earth.”
Corinne Duyvis, On the Edge of Gone

Nescio
“It was in December. I stood in the back of the tram, all the way in the back. It drove through the country and stopped and started again, it took hours, the countryside was endless. And the sky got bluer and bluer and the sun shone until it seemed like flowers would have to start sprouting out of the country bumpkins. And the red roofs in the villages and the black trees and the fields, most of them covered with straw, had it nice and warm, and the dunes sat bareheaded in the sun. And the road lay there, white and smarting, it couldn't bear the sunlight, and the glass panes of the village streetlamp flashed, they had trouble withstanding the glare too.
But I got colder and colder. And the tram ran as long as the sun shone. It's a long ride from Hillegom to Leiden and the days are short in December. By the end, a block of ice was standing there on the tram staring into the big stupid cold sun that was flaming red as though the revolution was finally starting, as though offices were being blown up all over Amsterdam, but still it couldn't bring a spark of life back to my cold feet and stiff legs. And it kept getting bigger and colder, the sun, and I got colder and stayed the same size, and the blue sky looked down very disapprovingly: What are you doing on that tram?”
Nescio, Amsterdam Stories

Harry Mulisch
“His father in law, who was as old as the century, had just retired and was living in a country house in Gelderland. He would be coming by car. Saskia called and suggested that he pick them up--then they could get coffee together first. A typical country dweller, he replied that he wouldn't be caught dead in Amsterdam; what did they think, that he wanted to be attacked by a gang of hippie Provos? He laughed as he said it, but he didn't come, though God knows he'd faced worse dangers in his life.”
Harry Mulisch, The Assault

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