Garrison > Garrison's Quotes

Showing 1-30 of 59
« previous 1
sort by

  • #1
    James Baldwin
    “This was the last time I ever saw my mother alive. Just the same, this picture gets all mixed up in my mind with pictures I had of her when she was younger. The way I always see her is the way she used to be on Sunday afternoon, say, when the old folks were talking after the big Sunday dinner. I always see her wearing pale blue. She'd be sitting on the sofa. And my father would be sitting in the easy chair, not far from her. And the living room would be full of church folks and relatives. There they sit, in chairs all around the living room, and the night is creeping up outside, but nobody knows it yet. You can see the darkness growing against the windowpanes and you hear the street noises every now and again, or maybe the jangling beat of a tambourine from one of the churches close by, but it's real quiet in the room. For a moment nobody's talking, but every face looks darkening, like the sky outside. And my mother rocks a little from the waist, and my father's eyes are closed. Everyone is looking at something a child can't see. For a minute they've forgotten the children. Maybe a kid is lying on the rug, half asleep. Maybe somebody's got a kid in his lap and is absent-mindedly stroking the kid's head. Maybe there's a kid, quiet and big-eyed, curled up in a big chair in the corner. The silence, the darkness coming, and the darkness in the faces frighten the child obscurely. He hopes that the hand which strokes his forehead will never stop-- will never die. He hopes that there will never come a time when the old folks won't be sitting around the living room, talking about where they've come from, and what they've seen, and what's happened to them and their kinfolk.

    But something deep and watchful in the child knows that this is bound to end, is already ending. In a moment someone will get up and turn on the light. Then the old folks will remember the children and they won't talk anymore that day. And when light fills the room, the child is filled with darkness. He knows that every time this happens he's moved just a little closer to that darkness outside. The darkness outside is what the old folks have been talking about. It's what they've come from. It's what they endure. The child knows that they won't talk anymore because if he knows too much about what's happened to them, he'll know too much too soon, about what's going to happen to him.”
    James Baldwin

  • #2
    George R.R. Martin
    “A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies, said Jojen. The man who never reads lives only one.”
    George R.R. Martin, A Dance with Dragons

  • #3
    Stephen Chbosky
    “Sometimes people use thought to not participate in life.”
    Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

  • #4
    John Green
    “Augustus," I said. "Really. You don't have to do this."
    "Sure I do," he said. "I found my Wish."
    "God, you're the best," I told him.
    "I bet you say that to all the boys who finance your international travel," he answered.”
    John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

  • #5
    Ian McEwan
    “It wasn't only wickedness and scheming that made people unhappy, it was confusion and misunderstanding; above all, it was the failure to grasp the simple truth that other people are as real as you.”
    Ian McEwan, Atonement

  • #6
    Ian McEwan
    “Was everyone else really as alive as she was?... If the answer was yes, then the world, the social world, was unbearably complicated, with two billion voices, and everyone’s thoughts striving in equal importance and everyone’s claim on life as intense, and everyone thinking they were unique, when no one was. One could drown in irrelevance.”
    Ian McEwan, Atonement

  • #7
    Ian McEwan
    “A story was a form of telepathy. By means of inking symbols onto a page, she was able to send thoughts and feelings from her mind to her reader's. It was a magical process, so commonplace that no one stopped to wonder at it.”
    Ian McEwan, Atonement

  • #8
    Ian McEwan
    “There did not have to be a moral. She need only show separate minds, as alive as her own, struggling with the idea that other minds were equally alive. It wasn't only wickedness and scheming that made people unhappy, it was confusion and misunderstanding, above all, it was the failure to grasp the simple truth that other people are as real as you. And only in a story could you enter these different minds and show how they had an equal value. That was the only moral a story need have.”
    Ian McEwan, Atonement

  • #9
    Jeffrey Eugenides
    “It didn't matter in the end how old they had been, or that they were girls, but only that we had loved them, and that they hadn't heard us calling, still do not hear us, up here in the tree house, with our thinning hair and soft bellies, calling them out of those rooms where they went to be alone for all time, alone in suicide, which is deeper than death, and where we will never find the pieces to put them back together.”
    Jeffrey Eugenides, The Virgin Suicides

  • #10
    Jeffrey Eugenides
    “With most people suicide is like Russian roulette. Only one chamber has a bullet. With the Lisbon girls, the gun was loaded. A bullet for family abuse. A bullet for genetic predisposition. A bullet for historical malaise. A bullet for inevitable momentum. The two other bullets are impossible to name, but that doesn't mean the chambers were empty.”
    jeffrey eugenides, The Virgin Suicides

  • #11
    Markus Zusak
    “A small but noteworthy note. I've seen so many young men over the years who think they're running at other young men. They are not. They are running at me.”
    Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

  • #12
    Markus Zusak
    “So much good, so much evil. Just add water.”
    Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

  • #13
    Jeannette Walls
    “One time I saw a tiny Joshua tree sapling growing not too far from the old tree. I wanted to dig it up and replant it near our house. I told Mom that I would protect it from the wind and water it every day so that it could grow nice and tall and straight. Mom frowned at me. "You'd be destroying what makes it special," she said. "It's the Joshua tree's struggle that gives it its beauty.”
    Jeannette Walls, The Glass Castle
    tags: life

  • #14
    Groucho Marx
    “Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog it's too dark to read.”
    Groucho Marx, The Essential Groucho: Writings For By And About Groucho Marx

  • #15
    Marjane Satrapi
    “It's fear that makes us lose our conscience. It's also what transforms us into cowards.”
    Marjane Satrapi, The Complete Persepolis

  • #16
    Marjane Satrapi
    “In every religion, you find the same extremists.”
    Marjane Satrapi, The Complete Persepolis

  • #17
    Marjane Satrapi
    “Life is too short to be lived badly.”
    Marjane Satrapi, Persepolis 2: The Story of a Return

  • #18
    Donna Tartt
    “I had the epiphany that laughter was light, and light was laughter, and that this was the secret of the universe.”
    Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch

  • #19
    Vladimir Nabokov
    “Human life is but a series of footnotes to a vast obscure unfinished masterpiece”
    Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

  • #20
    Vladimir Nabokov
    “You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style.”
    Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

  • #21
    Vladimir Nabokov
    “I have often noticed that we are inclined to endow our friends with the stability of type that literary characters acquire in the reader's mind. [...] Whatever evolution this or that popular character has gone through between the book covers, his fate is fixed in our minds, and, similarly, we expect our friends to follow this or that logical and conventional pattern we have fixed for them. Thus X will never compose the immortal music that would clash with the second-rate symphonies he has accustomed us to. Y will never commit murder. Under no circumstances can Z ever betray us. We have it all arranged in our minds, and the less often we see a particular person, the more satisfying it is to check how obediently he conforms to our notion of him every time we hear of him. Any deviation in the fates we have ordained would strike us as not only anomalous but unethical. We could prefer not to have known at all our neighbor, the retired hot-dog stand operator, if it turns out he has just produced the greatest book of poetry his age has seen.”
    Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

  • #22
    Vladimir Nabokov
    “I recall certain moments, let us call them icebergs in paradise, when after having had my fill of her –after fabulous, insane exertions that left me limp and azure-barred–I would gather her in my arms with, at last, a mute moan of human tenderness (her skin glistening in the neon light coming from the paved court through the slits in the blind, her soot-black lashes matted, her grave gray eyes more vacant than ever–for all the world a little patient still in the confusion of a drug after a major operation)–and the tenderness would deepen to shame and despair, and I would lull and rock my lone light Lolita in my marble arms, and moan in her warm hair, and caress her at random and mutely ask her blessing, and at the peak of this human agonized selfless tenderness (with my soul actually hanging around her naked body and ready to repent), all at once, ironically, horribly, lust would swell again–and 'oh, no,' Lolita would say with a sigh to heaven, and the next moment the tenderness and the azure–all would be shattered.”
    Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

  • #23
    Vladimir Nabokov
    “And I still have other smothered memories, now unfolding themselves into limbless monsters of pain. Once, in a sunset-ending street of Beardsley, she turned to little Eva Rosen (I was taking both nymphets to a concert and walking behind them so close as almost to touch them with my person), she turned to Eva, and so very serenely and seriously, in answer to something the other had said about its being better to die than hear Milton Pinski; some local schoolboy she knew, talk about music, my Lolita remarked:
    'You know what's so dreadful about dying is that you're completely on your own'; and it struck me, as my automaton knees went up and down, that I simply did not know a thing about my darling's mind and that quite possibly, behind the awful juvenile cliches, there was in her a garden and a twilight, and a palace gate - dim and adorable regions which happened to be lucidly and absolutely forbidden to me, in my polluted rags and miserable convulsions...”
    Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

  • #24
    Vladimir Nabokov
    “There are gentle souls who would pronounce Lolita meaningless because it does not teach them anything. I am neither a reader nor a writer of didactic fiction...For me a work of fiction exists only insofar as it affords me what I shall bluntly call aesthetic bliss, that is a sense of being somehow, somewhere, connected with other states of being where art (curiosity, tenderness, kindness, ecstasy) is the norm.”
    Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

  • #25
    Vladimir Nabokov
    “You know, what's so dreadful about dying is that you are completely on your own.”
    Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

  • #26
    Vladimir Nabokov
    “The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness.”
    Vladimir Nabokov, Speak, Memory

  • #27
    George Saunders
    “Why were we put here, so inclined to love, when end of our story = death? That harsh. That cruel. Do not like.”
    George Saunders, Tenth of December

  • #28
    George Saunders
    “It was that impossible thing: happiness that does not wilt to reveal the thin shoots of some new desire rising from within it.”
    George Saunders, Tenth of December

  • #29
    Wally Lamb
    “Accept what people offer. Drink their milkshakes. Take their love.”
    Wally Lamb, She’s Come Undone

  • #30
    Wally Lamb
    “I cried because I had no shoes. Then I met a man who had no feet.”
    Wally Lamb



Rss
« previous 1