Santo Marlon > Santo's Quotes

“She peeped through one of the small holes in the outer wall rising up from the walkway. The world on the outside was nothing but countryside now. Dirt roads, like chocolate ribbons, disappeared into woods or green fields in the distance.”
― Sara Pascoe, Being a Witch, and Other Things I Didn't Ask For

“Two simple words that will take you far in life: thank you. Don’t underestimate their power.”
― Gregory S. Works, Triumph: Life on the Other Side of Trials, Transplants, Transition and Transformation

“Unconditional Love conquers all!”
― Aimee Cabo Nikolov, Love is the Answer God is the Cure

“Emily kept telling herself this was inevitable, that it was why she’d come to Ireland: to see what her dreams led to. But seeing the man caused goosebumps to rise up on her skin, as if she were seeing a ghost. Her extremities began to tingle, and she felt the blood draining from her face.”
― Steven Decker, Projector for Sale

“I said, leave her alone!” Her saviour was a slim young man with blonde hair tied back in a pony tail, and even in the gloom his eyes seemed to burn with ice-cold intensity.”
― Robert Reid, The Thief

“Killed by our collective blindness. Not a great epitaph.”
― Barry Kirwan, The Eden Paradox

“No one ever wrote the ending to their autobiography.”
― J.K. Franko

“In a way, the very success which the Boss laid on Tiny was his revenge on Tiny, for every time the Boss put his meditative, sleepy, distant gaze on Tiny, Tiny would know, with a cold clutch at his fat heart, that if the Boss should crook a finger there wouldn't be anything but the whiff of smoke.”
― Robert Penn Warren, All the King's Men

“We are alike in many ways, you and I. There is darkness in us. Darkness, pain, death. They radiate from us. If ever you love a woman, Rand, leave her and let her find another. It will be the best gift you can give her.”
― Robert Jordan, The Fires of Heaven

“It was hard to get lost in Missoula even if you wanted to. Wherever you were, all you had to do to get your bearings was look around and find the big letter M, embossed in white halfway up the steep shoulder of grass that reared on the south bank of the Clark Fork River. Though only a hill, it was called Mount Sentinel and if you had the legs and lungs and inclination to hike the trail that zigzagged up it, you could stand by the M and gaze out across the town at a travel-brochure shot of forest and mountain dusted from early fall with snow.”
― Nicholas Evans, The Divide