Aashray Sharma > Aashray's Quotes

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  • #1
    Stephen Chbosky
    “Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
    he wrote a poem
    And he called it "Chops"
    because that was the name of his dog

    And that's what it was all about
    And his teacher gave him an A
    and a gold star
    And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
    and read it to his aunts
    That was the year Father Tracy
    took all the kids to the zoo

    And he let them sing on the bus
    And his little sister was born
    with tiny toenails and no hair
    And his mother and father kissed a lot
    And the girl around the corner sent him a
    Valentine signed with a row of X's

    and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
    And his father always tucked him in bed at night
    And was always there to do it

    Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
    he wrote a poem
    And he called it "Autumn"

    because that was the name of the season
    And that's what it was all about
    And his teacher gave him an A
    and asked him to write more clearly
    And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
    because of its new paint

    And the kids told him
    that Father Tracy smoked cigars
    And left butts on the pews
    And sometimes they would burn holes
    That was the year his sister got glasses
    with thick lenses and black frames
    And the girl around the corner laughed

    when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
    And the kids told him why
    his mother and father kissed a lot
    And his father never tucked him in bed at night
    And his father got mad
    when he cried for him to do it.


    Once on a paper torn from his notebook
    he wrote a poem
    And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
    because that was the question about his girl
    And that's what it was all about
    And his professor gave him an A

    and a strange steady look
    And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
    because he never showed her
    That was the year that Father Tracy died
    And he forgot how the end
    of the Apostle's Creed went

    And he caught his sister
    making out on the back porch
    And his mother and father never kissed
    or even talked
    And the girl around the corner
    wore too much makeup
    That made him cough when he kissed her

    but he kissed her anyway
    because that was the thing to do
    And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
    his father snoring soundly

    That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
    he tried another poem

    And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
    Because that's what it was really all about
    And he gave himself an A
    and a slash on each damned wrist
    And he hung it on the bathroom door
    because this time he didn't think

    he could reach the kitchen.”
    Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

  • #2
    W.B. Yeats
    “We can make our minds so like still water that beings gather about us that they may see, it may be, their own images, and so live for a moment with a clearer, perhaps even with a fiercer life because of our quiet.”
    William Butler Yeats, The Celtic Twilight: Faerie and Folklore

  • #3
    W.B. Yeats
    “Let us go forth, the tellers of tales, and seize whatever prey the heart long for, and have no fear. Everything exists, everything is true, and the earth is only a little dust under our feet.”
    W. B. Yeats

  • #4
    Cassandra Clare
    “So you don't ever get angry at him?"
    Jem laughed out loud. "I would hardly say that. Sometimes I want to strangle him."
    "How on earth do you prevent yourself?"
    "I go to my favorite place in London," said Jem, "and I stand and look at the water, and I think about the continuity of life, and how the river rolls on, oblivious of the petty upsets in our lives."
    Tessa was fascinated. "Does that work?"
    "Not really, but after that I think about how I could kill him while he slept if I really wanted to, and then I feel better.”
    Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Angel

  • #5
    Bertrand Russell
    “There are two motives for reading a book; one, that you enjoy it; the other, that you can boast about it.”
    Bertrand Russell

  • #6
    Orson Welles
    “Ask not what you can do for your country. Ask what’s for lunch.”
    Orson Welles

  • #7
    Mae West
    “I wrote the story myself. It's about a girl who lost her reputation and never missed it.”
    Mae West

  • #8
    George Bernard Shaw
    “Animals are my friends...and I don't eat my friends.”
    George Bernard Shaw

  • #9
    Ambrose Bierce
    “The covers of this book are too far apart.”
    Ambrose Bierce

  • #10
    H.L. Mencken
    “The older I grow, the more I distrust the familiar doctrine that age brings wisdom.”
    H.L. Mencken

  • #11
    Mark Twain
    “I must have a prodigious amount of mind; it takes me as much as a week, sometimes, to make it up!”
    Mark Twain

  • #12
    Oscar Wilde
    “I have nothing to declare except my genius.”
    Oscar Wilde

  • #13
    William Goldman
    “Just because you're beautiful and perfect, it's made you conceited.”
    William Goldman, The Princess Bride

  • #14
    Rudyard Kipling
    “I never made a mistake in my life; at least, never one that I couldn't explain away afterwards.”
    Rudyard Kipling, Under The Deodars

  • #15
    Peter S. Beagle
    “I am no king, and I am no lord,
    And I am no soldier at-arms," said he.
    "I'm none but a harper, and a very poor harper,
    That am come hither to wed with ye."

    "If you were a lord, you should be my lord,
    And the same if you were a thief," said she.
    "And if you are a harper, you shall be my harper,
    For it makes no matter to me, to me,
    For it makes no matter to me."

    "But what if it prove that I am no harper?
    That I lied for your love most monstrously?"

    "Why, then I'll teach you to play and sing,
    For I dearly love a good harp," said she.”
    Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn

  • #16
    Pablo Neruda
    “We the mortals touch the metals,
    the wind, the ocean shores, the stones,
    knowing they will go on, inert or burning,
    and I was discovering, naming all the these things:
    it was my destiny to love and say goodbye.”
    Pablo Neruda, Still Another Day



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