Altha Gitchell > Altha's Quotes

“We sit there, our eyes locked on one another, for several seconds. I know in my heart we're both thinking the same thing. Jacob leans forward over the candle, the shadow of the flame dancing against his bottom lip. I lean forward to meet him as well. It's a kiss full of promise, of trust, and of all that is magic.”
― Laurie Faria Stolarz, White Is for Magic

“You need to screw up to learn. You need to experience to create greatness.”
― Laurie Faria Stolarz, Deadly Little Secret

“Who do I look like, Nancy freaking Drew?”
― laurie faria stolarz

“Okay, now you're starting to scare me," Wes says.
"No, scary is the way people can alter their voices on cue. Like your imitation of that creepy guy who lives at your house."
"You mean my dad?" he laughs.”
― Laurie Faria Stolarz, Deadly Little Lies

“In writing, as in life, always be true to your character.”
― Laurie Faria Stolarz

“Jack and Jill ran up the hill, both for a little fun. Jack's plan was deception while Jill sought affection. And Jack wouldn't quit till he won.”
― Laurie Faria Stolarz, Deadly Little Voices

“Sounds like you've got it all planned out."
"Honey, I've got more plans than Wes has ugly shoes."
"And that's a lot." I laugh.
"It sure is," she says with a sigh.”
― Laurie Faria Stolarz, Deadly Little Lies

“I do know that living in the past only messes up your present”
― Laurie Faria Stolarz, Deadly Little Secret

“You could call him,' Wes suggests. 'Why be a spectator in the game of love? Take charge. Don't wait around and let the boy call all the shots.'
'As cheesy as all of that sounds,' Kimmie adds.
'Cheese or not,I know what I'm talking about.' He sulks. 'I've lived it. I've learned it.'
Kimmie lets out a laugh. 'With who,Romeo? That Wendy girl you paid to date you?'
'Oh, and because I don't have a dating history as big as your mouth, it doesn't quite measure up?'
'I hate to break this to you, but that isn't the only thing of yours that doesn't measure up.'
'Wouldn't you like to know?' He grins.”
― Laurie Faria Stolarz, Deadly Little Games

“it's a kiss full of promise, of trust and of all that is magic.”
― Laurie Faria Stolarz, White Is for Magic

“You know what's really freaky? Wes segues. "The fact that the psycho in question was the same guy who was after Debbie Marcus."
The whole fiasco with Debbie Marcus had happened at around the same time that I was getting stalked. But instead of taking her seriously, people chalked her stories up to pranks and practical jokes, concluding that Debbie had gotten paranoid as a result.
But there was obviously a lot more to it.
"Actually, its not nearly as freaky as the fact that Camelia decided to go to the psycho's house without even calling us first," Kimmie says.
"I already told you guys, I didn't have my phone."
"And you've obviously never heard of a collect call," Wes says.
"Nor have you heard of nine-one-one." Kimmie's barbell-pierced eyebrow rises high. "Because I hear that's free as well.”
― Laurie Faria Stolarz, Deadly Little Voices

“At that moment there opened a golden room holding all that had been and ever would be, every scene in the multiverse, every outcome, all fixed as in amber and ever awaiting choice. Their corporal selves but pale remnants on the recliners, Karger and Myla stood in this room of gold, eyeing each other. Possibilities lay before them, unending. Karger reached out his hand.”
― Ernie Gammage, What Awaits?

“Where did the disconnect take place in my relationship with God? Or did I ever have one? Why did I feel like I’d missed the first day of class, the one when the teacher explained it all?”
― Ernie Gammage, What Awaits?

“So, Kate, Russell and I drove to the station and there was Paul, sitting in a chair in the foyer, looking like he always did: no better, no worse. Except that he wasn’t sitting in the chair. He hovered above it. You could have easily slid a thick book under him.”
― Ernie Gammage, What Awaits?

“Outside the wind scraped around the corners of the hut. Inside, only the spitting of the fire broke the steady snores. She paused at the fat one’s side, her hand inches from the hilt of his knife. How would she do this; how could she do this?”
― Ernie Gammage, What Awaits?

“Over the years I’ve dreamt occasionally about that day and evening at Teotihuacan. It’s always the same: Moctezuma and I sit close together, huddled on stone steps at the bottom of the Pyramid of the Sun. His magnificent iridescent headdress bobs in the twilight as we talk, as he gestures. All is well.”
― Ernie Gammage, What Awaits?

“I was destined for Great Things, confirmed by a physical welling of promise I couldn’t deny or explain. One just knows these things. Like good luck, you have it or you don’t. I always knew I had it.”
― Ernie Gammage, What Awaits?

“All I ever have is what I have right now. I try not to have expectations, play my cards straight, and I hope for the best.”
― Ernie Gammage, What Awaits?

“It had come with a cost, however, whose payment had led her into alleys of herself she scarcely knew; at the end of one she’d found Hayden.”
― Ernie Gammage, What Awaits?

“You mean…you were eating those things…raw?’
‘Well not eating, exactly. More like drinking”
― Ernie Gammage, What Awaits?

“Could life’s tedium be the inevitable result of its elongation? Two hundred years ago, people didn’t live much past thirty. Did that make those years more exciting, more precious?”
― Ernie Gammage, What Awaits?

“Our spirits have their own private way of understanding each other, of becoming intimate, while our external persons are still trapped in the commerce of ordinary words, in the slavery of social rules. Souls have their own needs and their own ambitions, which the body ignores when it sees that it's impossible to satisfy them or achieve them.”
― Luigi Pirandello

“Life is full of strange absurdities, which, strangely enough, do not even need to appear plausible, since they are true.”
― Luigi Pirandello, Six Characters in Search of an Author

“This is the real drama for me; the belief that we all, you see, think of ourselves as one single person: but it's not true: each of us is several different people, and all these people live inside us. With one person we seem like this and with another we seem very different. But we always have the illusion of being the same person for everybody and of always being the same person in everything we do. But it's not true! It's not true! We find this out for ourselves very clearly when by some terrible chance we're suddenly stopped in the middle of doing something and we're left dangling there, suspended. We realize then, that every part of us was not involved in what we'd been doing and that it would be a dreadful injustice of other people to judge us only by this one action as we dangle there, hanging in chains, fixed for all eternity, as if the whole of one's personality were summed up in that single, interrupted action.”
― Luigi Pirandello

“For man never reasons so much and becomes so introspective as when he suffers ; since he is anxious to get at the cause of his sufferings, to learn who has produced them, and whether it is just or unjust that he should have to bear them. On the other hand, when he is happy, he takes his happiness as it comes and doesn't analyse it, just as if happiness were his right.”
― Luigi Pirandello, Six Characters in Search of an Author

“E l’amore guardò il tempo e rise, perché sapeva di non averne bisogno. Finse di morire per un giorno, e di rifiorire alla sera, senza leggi da rispettare. Si addormentò in un angolo di cuore per un tempo che non esisteva. Fuggì senza allontanarsi, ritornò senza essere partito, il tempo moriva e lui restava.”
― Luigi Pirandello

“We all have a world of things inside ourselves and each one of us has his own private world. How can we understand each other if the words I use have the sense and the value that I expect them to have, but whoever is listening to me inevitably thinks that those same words have a different sense and value, because of the private world he has inside himself, too.”
― Luigi Pirandello, Six Characters in Search of an Author

“وقضيتي كانت أفدح. فأنا لا أرى ما مات فيّ. ولكني أرى أني لم أعش أبداً. أرى أن القالب الذي أفرغت فيه حياتي، إنما أعطاه لها الآخرون، ولست أنا الذي صغتها فيه، فأنا أشعر أن حياة هذا القالب، لم تكن حياتي الحقيقية. لقد أخذوني كأية مادة، أخذوا دماغاً وروحاً وعضلات وأعصاباً ولحماً، وعجنوها على النحو الذي يريدونه حتى تنجز أعمالاً، وتقوم بأفعال، وتطيع الواجبات التي أبحث عن نفسي فيها فلا أجدها.
وأصرخ، وتصرخ روحي في هذه الهيئة الميتة التي لم تكن هيئتي أبداً. ولكن كيف، وفي نفسي سأم وحقد ورعب من هذا الرجل الذي لم أكنه. من هذا القالب المميت الذي يقيدني فلا أقدر على التحرر. إنه قالب مثقل بالواجبات التي أشعر أنها ليست واجباتي. مرهق بأعمال لا تهمني، متخذ كرمز للتقدير الذي لا أعرف ما أصنع به. إن هذه الواجبات والأعمال والتقدير والإحترام صور خارجة عن حقيقة نفسي، إنها أشياء ميتة، لا معنى لها، إلا أن تثقل كاهلي، وترهقني وتسحقني، ولا تدع لي الفرصة للتنفس. أتحرر؟؟ ولكن متى استطاع إنسان إلغاء الحقيقة الواقعة فينكر الموت عندما يأخذ بخناقه .. والحقيقة أنه مهما كان مسلكك في الحياة فلا بد أن تقيدك المحن التي يجرها عليك. وتحيط بك تلك المسؤولية التي أخذتها على عاتقك كنها الجو الخانق الكثيف. فكيف أستطيع التحرر، وأنا سجين هذا القالب الغريب الذي يمثلني كما أنا بالنسبة للجميع، وكما يعرفني ويحترمني الجميع؟
إنني أعيش حياة مختلفة عن تلك الحقيقة التي أحلم بها. إنني أعيش حياتي في قالب أشعر أنه ميت وهو يعيش من أجل الآخرين. من أجل الذين رفعوه والذين يريدون له هذه الصورة .. فهو مرغم إذاً على أن يعمل من أجل زوجتي وأطفالي والمجتمع والسادة طلاب الحقوق في الجامعة والسادة العملاء الذين أودعوني الحياة والشرف والحرية والثروة. يعمل هكذا ولا أستطيع تغييره ولا أستطيع أن أركله بالأقدام وأزيحه وأتمرد عليه وأنتقم منه.”
― Luigi Pirandello, قصص ايطالية

“The idea that others saw in me one that was not the I whom I knew, one whom they alone could know, as they looked at me from without, with eyes that were not my own, eyes that conferred upon me an aspect destined to remain always foreign to me, although it was one that was in me, one that was my own to them (a "mine," that is to say, that was not for me!)—a life into which, although it was my own, I had no power to penetrate—this idea gave me no rest.”
― Luigi Pirandello, One, No One, and One Hundred Thousand

“To describe Mayumi’s demeanor towards Kiwako as frosty would be like describing an ice age as minor climate change.”
― L. M. Weeks, Bottled Lightning