Simon > Simon's Quotes

“This is peculiarly an age in which each of us may, if he do but search diligently, find the literature suited to his mental powers.”
― P.G. Wodehouse, Something New

“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end.”
― Gilda Radner

“Let us discuss why poetry has lost the power of making men brave.”
― E.M. Forster

“I cross myself and close my eyes. Where we go next, we go together.”
― Sarah Miller, The Lost Crown

“I'll pretend, I tell myself. Pretending is safer than believing.”
― Sarah Miller, The Lost Crown

“I wish I wasn't an imperial highness or an ex-grand duchess. I'm sick of people doing things to me because of what I am. Girl-in-white-dress. Short-one-with-fringe. Daughter-of-the-tsar. Child-of-the-ex-tyrant. I want people to look and see me, Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanova, not the caboose on a train of grand duchesses. Someday, I promise myself, no one will be able to hear my name or look at my picture and suppose they know all about me. Someday I will do something bigger than what I am.”
― Sarah Miller, The Lost Crown

“Maria cries unashamedly on my shoulder while I whisper and pet her cheek, but Anastasia grips my other hand and stares fiercely back at our Alexander Palace with her wet blue eyes until it is no more than a lemon-colored speck against the sunrise.”
― Sarah Miller, The Lost Crown

“My sisters and I sit together on a pair of suitcases. If we've forgotten anything, it's already too late -- our rooms have all been sealed and photographed. Anyway, Tatiana would say it's bad luck to return for something you've forgotten.”
― Sarah Miller, The Lost Crown

“Sounds buzz around me, and I'm sure the painted dragonflies have come loose from the frieze on our walls to flap their wings in my ears, making my skin prickle and crawl as tides of sickness wash me away.”
― Sarah Miller, The Lost Crown

“I'd like to know how anyone can write the truth about us if we've never met.”
― Sarah Miller, The Lost Crown

“Either you deal with what is the reality, or you can be sure that the reality is going to deal with you.”
― Alex Haley

“SONIA: What can we do? We must live our lives. [A pause] Yes, we shall live, Uncle Vanya. We shall live through the long procession of days before us, and through the long evenings; we shall patiently bear the trials that fate imposes on us; we shall work for others without rest, both now and when we are old; and when our last hour comes we shall meet it humbly, and there, beyond the grave, we shall say that we have suffered and wept, that our life was bitter, and God will have pity on us. Ah, then dear, dear Uncle, we shall see that bright and beautiful life; we shall rejoice and look back upon our sorrow here; a tender smile—and—we shall rest. I have faith, Uncle, fervent, passionate faith. [SONIA kneels down before her uncle and lays her head on his hands. She speaks in a weary voice] We shall rest. [TELEGIN plays softly on the guitar] We shall rest. We shall hear the angels. We shall see heaven shining like a jewel. We shall see all evil and all our pain sink away in the great compassion that shall enfold the world. Our life will be as peaceful and tender and sweet as a caress. I have faith; I have faith. [She wipes away her tears] My poor, poor Uncle Vanya, you are crying! [Weeping] You have never known what happiness was, but wait, Uncle Vanya, wait! We shall rest. [She embraces him] We shall rest. [The WATCHMAN’S rattle is heard in the garden; TELEGIN plays softly; MME. VOITSKAYA writes something on the margin of her pamphlet; MARINA knits her stocking] We shall rest.”
― Anton Chekhov, Uncle Vanya

“A bit of trash now and then is good for the severest reader. It provides the necessary roughage in the literary diet.”
― Phyllis McGinley

“Picking five favorite books is like picking the five body parts you'd most like not to lose.”
― Neil Gaiman

“The first duty of the novelist is to entertain. It is a moral duty. People who read your books are sick, sad, traveling, in the hospital waiting room while someone is dying. Books are written by the alone for the alone.”
― Donna Tartt

“Our minister was as confused as we were. "And now Flo," he would say to me, "you stand here'
"He's Flo, I'm Billie," I would say.
"Oh, all right, then, you stand here, Bill," he would say to Flo, and Flo would correct him.
"I'm Flo, she's Bill - I mean Billie."
But he married us and I am quite sure it was legal.”
― Billie Burke, With A Feather On My Nose