Marchew > Marchew's Quotes

“There are perhaps many causes worth dying for, but to me, certainly, there are none worth killing for.”
― Albert Dietrich, Army GI, Pacifist CO: The World War II Letters of Frank Dietrich and Albert Dietrich

“What have I always believed?
That on the whole, and by and large, if a man lived properly, not according to what any priests said, but according to what seemed decent and honest inside, then it would, at the end, more or less, turn out all right.”
― Terry Pratchett, Small Gods

“I've seen of enough of people who die for an idea. I don't believe in heroism; I know it's easy and I've learned it can be murderous. What interests me is living and dying for what one loves.”
― albert camus

“In this world, where we find ourselves, we need compassion more than anything, I think, or we are all alone.”
― Guy Gavriel Kay, Tigana

“You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche

“No time to grieve for roses when the forests are burning.”
― Juliusz Słowacki

“Stealing from one author is plagiarism; from many authors, research.”
― Walter Moers, The City of Dreaming Books

“Reading is an intelligent way of not having to think.”
― Walter Moers, The City of Dreaming Books

“No a czary, jak wiadomo, skoro raz się zaczną, to nic już ich nie powstrzyma.”
― Mikhail Bulgakov

“Podły los obdarzył mnie nadmierną wyobraźnią, która utrudnia mi nie tylko ewentualną twórczość, ale także i życie.”
― Joanna Chmielewska

“You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.”
― Albert Camus

“But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more.”
― Hans Christian Andersen, The Little Mermaid

“The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.”
― Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey

“The unicorn lived in a lilac wood, and she lived all alone. She was very old, though she did not know it, and she was no longer the careless color of sea foam but rather the color of snow falling on a moonlit night. But her eyes were still clear and unwearied, and she still moved like a shadow on the sea.”
― Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn