Mark > Mark's Quotes

“Farewell," they cried, "Wherever you fare till your eyries receive you at the journey's end!" That is the polite thing to say among eagles.

"May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks," answered Gandalf, who knew the correct reply.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Annotated Hobbit: The Hobbit, or, There and back again

“I’ve embraced the fact that you don’t have to be perfect,’ he explained. ‘You’ve just got to try to hit that ball solid. Solid shots usually pan out. They may not be phenomenal, but hit solid shots. I’m just getting more and more experienced.”
― Iain Carter, The Majors 2015: The Thrilling Battle for Golf's Greatest Trophies

“When Justin had that birdie putt, then I had that slider for par, that’s when I really felt like it could get out of my hands if I’m not careful,’ said Spieth. ‘At that point, I was with my putter. I didn’t care what it looked like, didn’t care about my posture, didn’t care about the mechanics. It was all feel-based. I was seeing the line. I was seeing the arc of the putt. It had been the same thing on 15, and I was just going with it.”
― Iain Carter, The Majors 2015: The Thrilling Battle for Golf's Greatest Trophies

“If you make bogey, you’re still in it. If you make double bogey, it’s a very difficult climb,’ Spieth conceded. ‘And there was absolutely no reason to hit that putt off the green. I can leave it short, I can leave it eight feet short and have a dead straight eight-footer up the hill where I’ll make that, the majority of the time.”
― Iain Carter, The Majors 2015: The Thrilling Battle for Golf's Greatest Trophies

“Call a jack a jack. Call a spade a spade. But always call a whore a lady. Their lives are hard enough, and it never hurts to be polite.”
― Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind

“But in a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as stars once a year brush the earth. Such a constellation was he to me.”
― Madeline Miller, Circe

“The nasturtiums have it figured out, how survival's just a a manner of filling in the gaps between sun up and sun down, Boiling kettles, peeling potatoes, laundering towels, buying milk, changing lightbulbs, rooting wet mats of pubic hair out of the shower's plughole. This is the way people survive, by filling one hole at a time for flightiest of temporary gratifications, over and over and over, until the season's out and they die off anyway, wither back into the wall or path, into their dark crevasse. This is the way life's eaten away, expended by the onerous effort of living itself.”
― Sara Baume, Spill Simmer Falter Wither