Gale > Gale's Quotes

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  • #1
    Paulo Coelho
    “One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving.”
    Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

  • #2
    Paulo Coelho
    “The simple things are also the most extraordinary things, and only the wise can see them.”
    Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

  • #3
    Pip Williams
    “When we bound these books, I thought, they were identical. But I realised they couldn’t stay that way. As soon as someone cracks the spine, a book develops a character all its own. What impresses or concerns one reader is never the same as what impresses or concerns all others. So, each book, once read, will fall open at a different place. Each book, once read, I realised, will have told a slightly different story.”
    Pip Williams, The Bookbinder of Jericho

  • #4
    Yangsze Choo
    “For all stories have an ending as well as a beginning. But a beginning is where you choose to plant your foot, and the ending is only the edge of one's own knowledge.”
    Yangsze Choo, The Fox Wife

  • #5
    Sylvia Plath
    “I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar



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