Eiain > Eiain's Quotes

“Basically, I have been compelled by curiosity.”
― Mary Leakey

“You swam in a river of chance and coincidence. You clung to the happiest accidents—the rest you let float by.”
― David Wroblewski, The Story of Edgar Sawtelle

“What are you going to do? Everything, is my guess. It will be a little messy, but embrace the mess. It will be complicated, but rejoice in the complications.”
― Nora Ephron

“Lift every voice and sing.”
― James Weldon Johnson

“Wherever you go becomes a part of you somehow.”
― Anita Desai

“Sometimes one likes foolish people for their folly, better than wise people for their wisdom.”
― Elizabeth Gaskell, Wives and Daughters

“I have spread my dreams under your feet.
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”
― W.B. Yeats

“Some things you know all your life. They are so simple and true they must be said without elegance, meter and rhyme...they must be naked and alone, they must stand for themselves.”
― Philip Levine

“Dawn stations, with a steel light, and waxen figures. / Dust, stone, and clanking sounds, hiss of weary steam. / Night stations, shaded light, fading pools of colour. / Shadows and the shuffling of a million feet /… The station clock with staggering hand and the callous face, / says twenty-five-to-nine”
― Christopher Young, On the Periphery: David Sylvian - A Biography: The Solo Years

“As the conductor Leopold Stokowski once famously said, “…a painter paints pictures on canvas, but musicians paint their pictures on silence.”
― Christopher Young, On the Periphery: David Sylvian - A Biography: The Solo Years

“You gotta love livin’, kid. Because dyin’s a pain in the ass.”
― Roger Moore, My Word is My Bond: The Autobiography

“I felt so full of rage against my fellow man. How could man be so inhumane that he could create weapons that tear children’s bodies and lives apart?”
― Roger Moore, My Word is My Bond: The Autobiography

“Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.”
― William Morris

“we are not so much the authors of our lives but a library of other people.”
― Richard Coles, The Madness of Grief: A Memoir of Love and Loss