Alisa Gutterrez > Alisa's Quotes

“Snake Street is an area I should avoid. Yet that night I was drawn there as surely as if I had an appointment. 
The Snake House is shabby on the outside to hide the wealth within. Everyone knows of the wealth, but facades, like the park’s wall, must be maintained. A lantern hung from the porch eaves. A sign, written in Utte, read ‘Kinship of the Serpent’. I stared at that sign, at that porch, at the door with its twisted handle, and wondered what the people inside would do if I entered. Would they remember me? Greet me as Kin? Or drive me out and curse me for faking my death?  Worse, would they expect me to redon the life I’ve shed? Staring at that sign, I pissed in the street like the Mearan savage I’ve become.
As I started to leave, I saw a woman sitting in the gutter. Her lamp attracted me. A memsa’s lamp, three tiny flames to signify the Holy Trinity of Faith, Purity, and Knowledge.  The woman wasn’t a memsa. Her young face was bruised and a gash on her throat had bloodied her clothing. Had she not been calmly assessing me, I would have believed the wound to be mortal. I offered her a copper. 
She refused, “I take naught for naught,” and began to remove trinkets from a cloth bag, displaying them for sale.
Her Utte accent had been enough to earn my coin. But to assuage her pride I commented on each of her worthless treasures, fighting the urge to speak Utte. (I spoke Universal with the accent of an upper class Mearan though I wondered if she had seen me wetting the cobblestones like a shameless commoner.) After she had arranged her wares, she looked up at me. “What do you desire, O Noble Born?”
I laughed, certain now that she had seen my act in front of the Snake House and, letting my accent match the coarseness of my dress, I again offered the copper.
 “Nay, Noble One. You must choose.” She lifted a strand of red beads. “These to adorn your lady’s bosom?”
            I shook my head. I wanted her lamp. But to steal the light from this woman ... I couldn’t ask for it. She reached into her bag once more and withdrew a book, leather-bound, the pages gilded on the edges. “Be this worthy of desire, Noble Born?”
 I stood stunned a moment, then touched the crescent stamped into the leather and asked if she’d stolen the book. She denied it. I’ve had the Training; she spoke truth. Yet how could she have come by a book bearing the Royal Seal of the Haesyl Line? I opened it. The pages were blank.
“Take it,” she urged. “Record your deeds for study. Lo, the steps of your life mark the journey of your soul.”
  I told her I couldn’t afford the book, but she smiled as if poverty were a blessing and said, “The price be one copper. Tis a wee price for salvation, Noble One.”
  So I bought this journal. I hide it under my mattress. When I lie awake at night, I feel the journal beneath my back and think of the woman who sold it to me. Damn her. She plagues my soul. I promised to return the next night, but I didn’t. I promised to record my deeds. But I can’t. The price is too high.”
― K. Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master

“I have watched people come to revival meetings burdened, broken, and hopeless, and then leave completely transformed. The difference is undeniable—their eyes are brighter, their posture changes, and their spirit is lighter because Jesus set them free.”
― Kathryn Krick, Unlock Your Deliverance: Keys to Freedom From Demonic Oppression

“Visitors are not permitted to see me twice. You will have to join the cult in order to do so. If the visitor sees me for the second time, he does not recognize me.”
― Rebecca Harlem, The Pink Cadillac

“If you always try to subjugate people by coercion, because you are strong, then sooner or later you will run into somebody who is just as strong, if not stronger. Then you'll be in trouble.”
― Max Nowaz, The Polymorph

“Joey was lying by the stream one afternoon after a hard day. He had been in trouble at school because he had left his homework at home. He had done the work, but his teacher didn’t believe him that he had completed it. Joey was still a bit upset with his teacher.
 
Suddenly, he heard a very soft voice say, “Hello.”
 
Joey sat up and looked around, but he couldn’t see anyone. So, he laid back down by the stream only to hear the voice again.
 
The voice sounded bubbly and a little like running water. Joey didn’t know where it was coming from.”
― Ellen J. Lewinberg, Joey and His Friend Water

“You arrogant, insufferable asshole; you scared me to death. If I hadn’t been so afraid that you were already dead, I’d have killed you myself.”
― Lotchie Burton, Gabriel's Fire

“So, you’re asking me how long before a couple can break up after having sex?”
And I was a tomato. “Yeah.” 
“So you’ve never broken up with someone after having sex?”
I stared at him. And that smug sonofabitch had the nerve to chuckle. My face was on fire and I wanted to slide to the floor. Under the tile. “That’s not . . . it isn’t—”
“I can fix that for you. Seems like the least I can do.”
― J. Rose Black, Chasing Headlines

“This was all strictly run-of-the-mill Victorian patter, striking only for the fact that a man who had so exerted himself to see the world afresh had returned with such stock observations. (And, really, very little has changed; one need only lightly edit the foregoing passages - the crude caricatures, the question of human inferiority, and the bit about the baboon - to produce the sort of profile of misbegotten Africa that remains standard to this day in the American and European press, and in the appeals for charity donations put out by humanitarian aid organizations.)”
― Philip Gourevitch , We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow We Will Be Killed with Our Families

“Little Man turned around and watched saucer-eyed as a bus bore down on him spewing clouds of red dust like a huge yellow dragon breathing fire. Little Man headed toward the bank, but it was too steep. He ran frantically along the road looking for a foothold and, finding one, hopped onto the bank, but not before the bus had sped past enveloping him in a scarlet haze while laughing white faces pressed against the bus windows. Little”
― Mildred D. Taylor, Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry

“All along, I made you feel like you were the one who had done something terribly wrong. Always anxious, in an ongoing state of unnamable guilt and dread, I made you the carrier of your father’s sin. You carried it like a warrior. You carried it like a wound. You carried it like a mutated cell that later became illness.”
― V (formerly Eve Ensler), The Apology

“As my sufferings mounted I soon realized that there were two ways in which I could respond to my situation -- either to react with bitterness or seek to transform the suffering into a creative force. I decided to follow the latter course.”
― Martin Luther King Jr.

“I believe that am entire nation should not be judged by the wrongdoings of a few extremists.”
― Marjane Satrapi

“When men talk about the agony of being men, they can never quite get away from the recurrent theme of self-pity. And when women talk about being women, they can never quite get away from the recurrent theme of blaming men.”
― Pat Conroy, The Prince of Tides