Jane Davis > Jane's Quotes

“The fortunate people in the world - the only really fortunate people in the world, in my mind - are those whose work is also their pleasure. The class is not a large one, not nearly so large as it is often represented to be; and authors are perhaps the most important elements in its composition.(Churchill)”
― Jane Davis, Half-truths & White Lies

“The fortunate people in the world - the only really fortunate people in the world, in my mind - are those whose work is also their pleasure. The class is not a large one, not nearly so large as it is often represented to be; and authors are perhaps the most important elements in its composition. (Churchill)”
― Jane Davis, Half-truths & White Lies

“If you cannot read all your books...fondle them---peer into them, let them fall open where they will, read from the first sentence that arrests the eye, set them back on the shelves with your own hands, arrange them on your own plan so that you at least know where they are. Let them be your friends; let them, at any rate, be your acquaintances.”
― Winston S. Churchill

“Author's Note
This is not so much an author's note as an author's reminder of what was printed in small type a few pages ago: This book is a work of fiction. I made it up.
Neither novels or their readers benefit from attempts to divine whether any facts hide inside a story. Such efforts attack the very idea that made-up stories can matter, which is sort of the foundational assumption of our species.
I appreciate your cooperation in this matter.”
― John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

“two people who were once very close can
without blame
or grand betrayal
become strangers.
perhaps this is the saddest thing in the world.”
― Warsan Shire

“For two days, fire raged four times hotter than the surface of the sun, until there was nothing left to burn.”
― Jane Davis, My Counterfeit Self

“There’s no one more dangerous than someone who believes they’re doing God’s work.”
― Jane Davis, My Counterfeit Self

“A small core glowed bright within Lucy. She had swallowed the moon.”
― Jane Davis, My Counterfeit Self

“imagine somebody exactly like you on a small island somewhere, and that you are writing for them and them alone. Find simple ways to say what you feel. Give your words room to breathe.”
― Jane Davis, My Counterfeit Self

“The soft thud of heavy heads on mulched bark, one after another. To Lucy, the sound of each impact was amplified: great timpani struck with felt-tipped drumsticks, bouncing off the low ceiling of a basement jazz club.”
― Jane Davis, My Counterfeit Self

“The atom bomb wasn’t used in Korea,” Father contributed. They really didn’t see it. “America planned to use the bomb,” she insisted. “Everything was in place, waiting for the word. It was dangerously close to becoming another Hiroshima.”
― Jane Davis, My Counterfeit Self

“Let the Cry-babies Howl! It’s GREAT Britain Again.”
― Jane Davis, My Counterfeit Self

“Acting’s my living, but activism keeps me alive’.”
― Jane Davis, My Counterfeit Self

“Like a lollipop?” Seeing her hesitate, he added, “Unless you’ve made your own banner.”
― Jane Davis, My Counterfeit Self

“Roy Prescott of Burton upon Trent was the first British soldier to be awarded compensation by the US government. He received forty thousand pounds under the US Radiation Exposure Compensation Act.”
― Jane Davis, My Counterfeit Self

“the Prime Minister of Fiji awarded each of the twenty-four surviving veterans three thousand pounds, saying, ‘Fiji is not prepared to wait for Britain to do the right thing.’ Let me repeat that: Britain is not prepared to do the right thing.”
― Jane Davis, My Counterfeit Self

“Don’t mistake the kind of person you’d like to be for the kind of person you are.”
― Jane Davis, My Counterfeit Self

“Not everything that falls within the law is right. Don’t be trapped into thinking it is.”
― Jane Davis, My Counterfeit Self

“They are not alone, she sees. Here is David’s friend Clive. She always rather liked Clive. Sensed he liked her too. And here, standing beside Hanshaw’s news-stand, are two boys. Men, she supposes. Fighting age, but no more than eighteen. They look down at David, sprawled at their feet, one arm outstretched towards them, beseeching. Then, slack-jawed, they turn their faces towards her, as if she’s a mirage: blonde, petite, horn-rimmed spectacles, a grey two-piece, stilettos. The last person they’d expect to be brandishing a firearm. (From At the Stroke of Nine O'Clock by Jane Davis.)”
― Jane Davis