Shanna Karnofski > Shanna's Quotes

“I watched her undress with moonlight shivering across the room from behind sheer curtains that moved with the currents from the hearth fire.”
― Gabriel F.W. Koch, Death Leaves a Shadow

“Starting the week with the wind at my back as I glide into a world of endless possibilities.”
― C. Toni Graham

“The big question was, what all was this society up to? They’d certainly been in and out of his office, as well as accidently running into him all around town. Had he inadvertently missed what this group of ladies knew? And worse yet, had he given himself away?”
― Kirsten Fullmer, Problems at the Pub

“One of Francie's favorite stores was the one which sold nothing but tea, coffee, and spices. It was an exciting place of rows of lacquered bins and strange, romantic, exotics odors. There were a dozen scarlet coffee bins with adventurous words written across the front in black China ink: Brazil! Argentine! Turkish! Java! Mixed Blend! The tea was in smaller bins: beautiful bins with sloping covers. They read: Oolong! Formosa! Orange Pekoe! Black China! Flowering Almond! Jasmine! Irish Tea! The spices were in miniature bins behind the counter. Their names marches in a row across the shelves: cinnamon-- cloves-- ginger-- all-spice-- ball nutmeg--curry-- peppercorns-- sage-- thyme-- marjoram.”
― Betty Smith

“All the speed he took, all the turns he'd taken and the corners he'd cut in Night City, and still he'd see the matrix in his sleep, bright lattices of logic unfolding across that colorless void...”
― William Gibson, Neuromancer

“People who love work, love life.”
― Louise Fitzhugh, Harriet the Spy

“writing about drugs is like that though, isn't it? You can just tell when someone is writing about drugs and they've never really done them. It screams out at you. That's something where I believe you have to have been there to really get it, y'know?”
― Irvine Welsh

“She always carried a book, though, in case she needed to read a few pages to avoid unwanted conversation.”
― Charles Frazier, Nightwoods

“The greatest improvement in the productive powers of labour, and the greater part of the skill, dexterity, and judgment with which it is anywhere directed, or applied, seem to have been the effects of the division of labour.”
― Adam Smith, The Wealth of Nations

“attempting to write yourself as a protagonist in the life of someone else is psychotically narcissistic.”
― Malcolm Collins, The Pragmatist’s Guide to Life: A Guide to Creating Your Own Answers to Life’s Biggest Questions

“Inside he was hurt. Not so much with Linda, but his failure to impress women generally with his abilities. There she was, an example: lending – no, giving –thirty thousand pounds to a smooth-talking old bastard, but she would not part with a penny to him after living with him for a year or more.”
― Max Nowaz, Get Rich or Get Lucky

“Nothing remains.  The destruction is complete: love, lives, families, friends, cities, homes – all gone now.  All our efforts to be good, to do the right thing, to act well, to be just and generous are now for naught.  Because juxtaposed against any hope for fairness is wickedness, pure and simple.  In some abstract formulation these things may exist in equal measure, which is to say that the scales balance when taking all things into consideration. But that is fantasy, the stuff of religion, hope beyond all reason. Because for those caught in the whirlwind, in the chaos of manifest evil, despair is all there is. Civilization falls away: everything is pointless now.  Survival requires reciprocity. What then if there is none?”
― John Payton Foden, Magenta

“I don’t know a soul who couldn’t see a fool jest by lookin’ in the glass. I been one myself, once’t or twice’t. So hesh up now. Cryin’ ain’t go’n do no good.”
― Olive Ann Burns, Cold Sassy Tree

“We don't actually fear death, we fear that no one will notice our absence, that we will disappear without a trace.”
― t.s. eliot

“Any piece of good music is in essence a love song.”
― Diana Gabaldon, Dragonfly in Amber

“Weeds are flowers, too, once you get to know them.”
― A.A. Milne

“That’s what I liked about those nuns. You could tell, for one thing, that they never went anywhere swanky for lunch. It mad me so damn sad when I thought about it, their never going anywhere swanky for lunch or anything. I knew it wasn’t too important, but it made me sad anyway.”
― J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

“I am finding out as I am aging that I am in love with the world.”
― Maurice Sendak

“The person at the other end is answering questions from a person she has never met and about whom she knows nothing. Good manners from you will certainly elicit a more complete response than a threatening or superior attitude.”
― Nancy O'Meara, The Cult around the Corner: A Handbook on Dealing with Other People's Religions

“ “We think a spy scheme could be brewing with one or more of the Middle East scientists going to Los Alamos.”
― Karl Braungart, Fatal Identity

“The archduke will see you now,” Bishop Riphaen said to von Pappenheim, interrupting his wishful thinking.  “And he is most eager to see what you have brought him.”
― Stephen A. Reger, Storm Surge: Book Two of the Stormsong Trilogy

“Never Give Up!”
― Michael Parker

“He knew what he was doing – justifying an atrocity. But in war, that’s what always happened. Your red lines – those you swore to defend at all costs when you signed up – shifted, until finally none worth fighting for remained. PTSD wasn’t just about what happened to you; it was about what you did.”
― Barry Kirwan, When the children come

“Maybe the books can get us half out of the cave. They just might stop us from making the same damm insane mistakes!”
― Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

“Vinnie loves me. He loves me. It.
Wasn/t.
Shit”
― Hubert Selby Jr., Last Exit to Brooklyn

“(...) about one of his schools he said, "I would make the following criticisms. First, too much attention to marks. Second, too much religion. Third, no time for me to develop my own interests. Fourth, group discipline may be imposed unfairly".”
― John Gunther, Death Be Not Proud

“The difference between rich and poor", said Francie, "is that the poor do everything with thier own hands and the rich hire hands to do things.”
― Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

“You shall address me as ‘My Dearest’,’ he repeated in a mocking voice, trying to copy her tone. ‘You will forget all about this conversation when you leave this room.’ It was interesting that tone; it had a sort of hypnotising ring to it.”
― Max Nowaz, The Three Witches and the Master

“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

“Dark is beautiful, brother.”
― Merlin Franco, Saint Richard Parker