Elvis Deen > Elvis's Quotes

“One would assume that travelers to Bali, the heaven on earth, would cry for joy. But in reality, every traveler is grieving some loss or another.”
― Merlin Franco, Saint Richard Parker

“I walked past Malison, up Lower Main to Main and across the road. I didn’t need to look to know he was behind me. I entered Royal Wood, went a short way along a path and waited. It was cool and dim beneath the trees. When Malison entered the Wood, I continued eastward. 
I wanted to place his body in hallowed ground. He was born a Mearan. The least I could do was send him to Loric. The distance between us closed until he was on my heels. He chose to come, I told myself, as if that lessened the crime I planned. He chose what I have to offer.
We were almost to the cemetery before he asked where we were going. I answered with another question. “Do you like living in the High Lord’s kitchens?”
He, of course, replied, “No.”
“Well, we’re going to a better place.”
When we reached the edge of the Wood, I pushed aside a branch to see the Temple of Loric and Calec’s cottage. No smoke was coming from the chimney, and I assumed the old man was yet abed. His pony was grazing in the field of graves. The sun hid behind a bank of clouds.
Malison moved beside me. “It’s a graveyard.”
“Are you afraid of ghosts?” I asked.
“My father’s a ghost,” he whispered.
I asked if he wanted to learn how to throw a knife. He said, “Yes,” as I knew he would.  He untucked his shirt, withdrew the knife he had stolen and gave it to me. It was a thick-bladed, single-edged knife, better suited for dicing celery than slitting a young throat. But it would serve my purpose. That I also knew. I’d spent all night projecting how the morning would unfold and, except for indulging in the tea, it had happened as I had imagined. 
Damut kissed her son farewell. Malison followed me of his own free will. Without fear, he placed the instrument of his death into my hand. We were at the appointed place, at the appointed time. The stolen knife was warm from the heat of his body. I had only to use it. Yet I hesitated, and again prayed for Sythene to show me a different path.
“Aren’t you going to show me?” Malison prompted, as if to echo my prayer.”
― K. Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master

“George didn't do quiet or subtle. His big paws kicked up rocks as he stretched into his own version of a freight train.”
― Lisa Kaniut Cobb, Down in the Valley

“Her unexpected outburst rocked Flaminius to his core. Suddenly, she didn't seem so angelic. Her face twisted with rage; veins in her neck throbbed with fury in a scene all too familiar. Her reaction switched him off to her instantly as all his worst fears came to life.”
― Therisa Peimer, Taming Flame

“You piece of shit, you need a wife; a woman’s touch in your life.’ But who would marry someone like me? Being a PI isn’t exactly the best profession to be in to attract a wife. I’ve read about too many investigators and policemen who end up divorced and I certainly fall into that category.”
― Behcet Kaya, Treacherous Estate

“Nearing the Riefler's big red brick house he could see the yellow light spill out on the galerie Yvonne had insisted her German husband wrap around the house.  There was a tightening in Victor's chest.  It happened to him whenever he got close to the Riefler's house, or church on Sunday- anytime he thought he might catch a glimpse of Celena.”
― Barbara Sontheimer, Victor's Blessing

“So, you do speak English. That makes sense now.” Catherine said, shaking her head.

“Of course, I speak English. I’m from Australia, not Tanzania.”
― Diane Merrill Wigginton, A Compromising Position

“Left hand path magick is generally socially unacceptable.”
― Nikolas Schreck

“But no, we cross, crisscross, and recross our old tracks like figure skaters.”
― David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas

“To remember love after long sleep; to turn again to poetry after a year in the market place, or to youth after resignation to drowsy and stiffening age; to remember what once you thought life could hold, after telling over with muddied and calculating fingers what it has offered; this is music, made after long silence. The soul flexes its wings, and, clumsy as any fledgling, tries the air again”
― Mary Stewart, The Hollow Hills

“Si por mi fuera, pillaría todos los libros que hay, haría una pila enorme con ellos y los quemaría todos. Los libros sólo sirven para que los listos farden acerca de toda la mierda que han leído. Todo lo que necesitas saber lo puedes sacar de la prensa y de la tele. Capullos pretenciosos. Ya les daré yo jodidos libros.”
― Irvine Welsh, Trainspotting

“Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it.”
― Donna Tartt, The Secret History

“For thousands of years, human beings had screwed up and trashed and crapped on this planet, and now history expected me to clean up after everyone. I have to wash out and flatten my soup cans. And account for every drop of used motor oil. And I have to foot the bill for nuclear waste and buried gasoline tanks and landfilled toxic sludge dumped a generation before I was born.”
― Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

“There is no faith like the faith of a builder of homes in coastal Louisiana”
― Dave Eggers, Zeitoun

“No. I cannot expect you to believe it. Take it as a lie--or a prophecy. Say I dreamed it in the workshop. Consider I have been speculating upon the destinies of our race until I have hatched this fiction. Treat my assertion of its truth as a mere stroke of art to enhance its interest. And taking it as a story, what do you think of it?”
― H.G. Wells, The Time Machine

“Be brave, Beatrice. I love you.”
― Veronica Roth, Divergent

“(The essence of the irony of the plight of the Negro in America, to me, is that he is doomed to live in isolation while those who condemn him seek the basest goals of any people on the face of the earth. Perhaps it would be possible for the Negro to become reconciled to his plight if he could be made to believe that his sufferings were for some remote, high, sacrificial end; but sharing the culture that condemns him, and seeing that a lust for trash is what blinds the nation to his claims, is what sets storms to rolling in his soul.)”
― Richard Wright

“... I guessed that when you are nearly a man, you have to learn to put up with a lot of aggravation from little old bitty kids.”
― Fred Gipson, Old Yeller

“Salome quivers with what I call a lust to know more. As do I.”
― Ki Longfellow, The Secret Magdalene

“If people were silent nothing would change.”
― Malala Yousafzai, I am Malala: The Story of the Girl Who Stood Up for Education and was Shot by the Taliban

“And I was told about this torture, that it was the Hell of carnal sins when reasons give way to desire.”
― Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy: Inferno - Purgatorio - Paradiso

“There is no such thing as the last straw. There is only hay.”
― Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves

“Seemed like you could stretch out your arms on either side and touch the mountains. Straight up they went, dark and feathered with treetops, and left a thin slice of stars above us.

Way off, a mourning dove called, long and throaty, and the mountains picked it up and echoed the sound over and over, carrying it farther and farther away until you wondered how many mountains and hollows that call would travel--and it died away, so far, it was more like a memory than a sound.”
― Forrest Carter, The Education of Little Tree

“There is a correspondence between the microcosm and the macrocosm! The stars are alive, child! Did you know that? Everything out there is alive, and there are grand purpose abroad! The universe is full of intentions, you know. Everything happens for a purpose.”
― Philip Pullman, The Golden Compass

“If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.”
― Henry David Thoreau, Walden or, Life in the Woods

“You will burn and you will burn out; you will be healed and come back again.”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

“the juniors were acting different because they are now the seniors. They even had T-shirts made. I don't know who plans these things.”
― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

“Do we loathe our masters behind a façade of love — or do we love them behind a façade of loathing? — Balram Halwai”
― Aravind Adiga, The White Tiger

“Roads? Who spoke of roads? We go by the moor and the hills, and tread granite and heather as the Druids did before us.”
― Daphne du Maurier, Jamaica Inn

“In my writing, as much as I could, I tried to find the good, and praise it.”
― Alex Haley