Michelle > Michelle's Quotes

“From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but I am now convinced.”
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

“She wanted to be alone. Her mind was in a state of flutter and wonder, which made it impossible for her to be collected. She was in dancing, singing, exclaiming spirits; and till she had moved about, and talked to herself, and laughed and reflected, she could be fit for nothing rational.”
― Jane Austen

“I am excessively fond of a cottage; there is always so much comfort, so much elegance about them. And I protest, if I had any money to spare, I should buy a little land and build one myself, within a short distance of London, where I might drive myself down at any time, and collect a few friends about me and be happy. I advise everybody who is going to build, to build a cottage.”
― Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility

“and if a rainy morning deprived them of other enjoyments, they were still resolute in meeting in defiance of wet and dirt, and shut themselves up, to read novels together. Yes, novels; for I will not adopt that ungenerous and impolitic custom so common with novel–writers, of degrading by their contemptuous censure the very performances, to the number of which they are themselves adding — joining with their greatest enemies in bestowing the harshest epithets on such works, and scarcely ever permitting them to be read by their own heroine, who, if she accidentally take up a novel, is sure to turn over its insipid pages with disgust. Alas! If the heroine of one novel be not patronized by the heroine of another, from whom can she expect protection and regard? I cannot approve of it. Let us leave it to the reviewers to abuse such effusions of fancy at their leisure, and over every new novel to talk in threadbare strains of the trash with which the press now groans. Let us not desert one another; we are an injured body. Although our productions have afforded more extensive and unaffected pleasure than those of any other literary corporation in the world, no species of composition has been so much decried. From pride, ignorance, or fashion, our foes are almost as many as our readers. And while the abilities of the nine–hundredth abridger of the History of England, or of the man who collects and publishes in a volume some dozen lines of Milton, Pope, and Prior, with a paper from the Spectator, and a chapter from Sterne, are eulogized by a thousand pens — there seems almost a general wish of decrying the capacity and undervaluing the labour of the novelist, and of slighting the performances which have only genius, wit, and taste to recommend them. “I am no novel–reader — I seldom look into novels — Do not imagine that I often read novels — It is really very well for a novel.” Such is the common cant. “And what are you reading, Miss — ?” “Oh! It is only a novel!” replies the young lady, while she lays down her book with affected indifference, or momentary shame. “It is only Cecilia, or Camilla, or Belinda”; or, in short, only some work in which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed, in which the most thorough knowledge of human nature, the happiest delineation of its varieties, the liveliest effusions of wit and humour, are conveyed to the world in the best–chosen language. Now, had the same young lady been engaged with a volume of the Spectator, instead of such a work, how proudly would she have produced the book, and told its name; though the chances must be against her being occupied by any part of that voluminous publication, of which either the matter or manner would not disgust a young person of taste: the substance of its papers so often consisting in the statement of improbable circumstances, unnatural characters, and topics of conversation which no longer concern anyone living; and their language, too, frequently so coarse as to give no very favourable idea of the age that could endure it.”
― Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey

“....how good Mrs. West could have written such books and collected so many hard works, with all her family cares, is still more a matter of astonishment! Composition seems to me impossible with a head full of joints of mutton and doses of rhubarb.”
― Jane Austen, Letters of Jane Austen; Selected from the Compilation of Her Great Nephew, Edward, Lord Brabourne

“I think it's degrading of you, Flora,' cried Mrs Smiling at breakfast. 'Do you truly mean that you don't ever want to work at anything?'

Her friend replied after some thought: 'Well, when I am fifty-three or so I would like to write a novel as good as "Persuasion", but with a modern setting, of course. For the next thirty years or so I shall be collecting material for it. If anyone asks me what I work at, I shall say "Collecting material." No one can object to that. Besides, I shall be.'

Mrs Smiling drank some coffee in silent disapproval.

'If you ask me,' continued Flora, 'I think I have much in common with Miss Austen. She liked everything to be tidy and pleasant and comfortable around her, and so do I. You see Mary,' - and here Flora began to grow earnest and to wave one finger about - 'unless everything is tidy and pleasant and comfortable all about one, people cannot even begin to enjoy life. I cannot endure messes.”
― Stella Gibbons, Cold Comfort Farm

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

“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.”
― Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey

“I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them a great deal.”
― Jane Austen, Jane Austen's Letters

“Rautu sighed and in his exhalation blew on his dear chocolate. The few specs it had incurred were easily blown away and the giant inspected his confection with a contented glint in his eye. All was amended and the chocolate, which had nearly succumbed to ruination, was saved. He took in the aroma of his favourite treat and tasted it. All seemed right in the world and the almost catastrophic incident was averted.

“I thought your scripture says that your people are not permitted to eat from the ground because of illness caused by doing so,” the commander said with a suppressed laugh for her mate’s immediate happiness.

“It does,” the Den Asaan quietly replied. “However, most of our provisions are not dry in nature and our meals are eaten on the sand.”
“And so eating from the stone upon which many feet walk is acceptable?”

Rautu glared at his mate. “It is for chocolate,” he growled.”
― Michelle Franklin, Tales from Frewyn: Short Stories from the Haanta Series Vol. 1

“Go where the pleasure is in your writing. Go where the pain is. Write the book you would like to read. Write the book you have been trying to find but have not found. But write. And remember, there are no rules for our profession. Ignore rules. Ignore what I say here if it doesn't help you. Do it your own way. Every writer knows fear and discouragement. Just write.The world is crying for new writing. It is crying for fresh and original voices and new characters and new stories. If you won't write the classics of tomorrow, well, we will not have any.”
― Anne Rice

“There should be a word for that brief period just after waking when the mind is full of warm pink nothing. You lie there entirely empty of thought, except for a growing suspicion that heading towards you, like a sockful of damp sand in a nocturnal alleyway, are all the recollections you'd really rather do without, and which amount to the fact that the only mitigating factor in your horrible future is the certainty that it will be quite short. ”
― Terry Pratchett, Mort

“Boudicca MacDaede was not the most striking of women, but she had a wryness in character and heartiness in form that recommended her to the rough demands of a farmer’s daughter and a soldier’s sufferance." ~ First two lines of book 1 in the Haanta Series”
― Michelle Franklin, The Commander And The Den Asaan Rautu

“Her remarks caught his consideration and his violet eyes tapered with growing dislike. He was at least dejected in his solitude, and now she had come to ruin his isolation and compel him to speak when he would otherwise be enjoying silence. He pressed his immense body against the bars of the cell in hopes of intimidating her, but the captain remained complacent and unaffected by his display.
“Leave me, woman,” he bellowed at her.
“I fear a cannot do that just now. I might need your help, should you wish to give it.”
He groaned and turned aside. “I will not assist you.”
“It is rather a shame you won’t. I was going to offer you your freedom.”
The giant turned back and looked at her with hesitation.”
― Michelle Franklin, The Commander And The Den Asaan Rautu

“And if I use the opportunity to kill you and leave?” the giant said in a tone half-serious half-arch.
“I have never known warriors to be dishonourable. Should you prove me wrong, we will all be dead anyway. There is nothing so ugly as reneging a promise, wouldn’t you agree?”
The giant clenched his teeth and looked down. “I would,” he murmured.”
― Michelle Franklin, The Commander And The Den Asaan Rautu

“My promise is fulfilled,” he said.
“It is,” she coolly replied. “I shall be sorry to lose you as a soldier. I would be inclined to offer you a more agreeable weapon should you like to stay.”
“I am well-trained, woman, unlike most of your men,” the giant scoffed. “The weapon in my hand does not matter as much as the skill behind it.”
“I cannot disagree.” She smiled at him and handed him a few rations for his impending journey. “That should last you a day if you are careful. I would give you more, but unfortunately cannot spare anything beyond that.” She stood back from him, expecting him to take his leave, but he only stood in his place, looked down at the rations in his hand, and sighed. “If you wish to revisit your home, you are more than welcome to return to it. I shall not attempt to stop you or alert the others, as promised.”
The giant gave her a pensive look and remained in his place.
She waited for an explanation owing to his dejected looks and immobility, but received none, leading her to believe the matter of his captivity was graver than she had expected.”
― Michelle Franklin, The Commander And The Den Asaan Rautu

“Why don’t you tell me your name?”
“No.”
“Very well. Your rank?”
“What would a woman understand of rank?”
“What does my sex have to do with my understanding?”
“As I have said, women are not warriors.”
“Perhaps in your society they aren’t, but in Frewyn we do very well for ourselves.”
― Michelle Franklin, The Commander And The Den Asaan Rautu

“Eat, woman,” he bellowed, leaning over her, prepared to force the remainder of her meal into her opened mouth.
“I would,” she said in a strained voice, “But there is a giant attached to my chin. Perhaps if he would be so gracious as to remove the cured pork from my pack, I would share it with him.”
Rautu’s eyes blazed in senseless joy. He released his companion and hastened toward her effects, rummaging through them with great anticipation. He found a small brown parchment parcel and assumed that this was the source of his happiness. He sniffed the outside of the paper and hummed in delight for the exquisite scent. He tore open the barrier between him and his prize and he was compelled to smile when remarking the numerous slices of meat in his hands. He began eating them immediately, leaving no time between one slice and the next to savour that which he had longed to again taste. The superior fare of Frewyn had been the chief of his consolation during the war, and if he was to remain on the islands with all its splendor, all its comforting familiarity, all its temperate climate, and all its horrendous food, he would relish this last ember of bliss before being made to suffer a diet of steamed grains again.
“I did say share,” the commander called out.
“I am responsible for securing your life,” he replied with a full mouth and without turning around.
“And I thanked you accordingly.” The commander’s remonstrations were unanswered, and she scoffed in aversion as she watched the voracious beast consume nearly all the provisions she had been saving for the return journey. “I know you shall not be satisfied until you have all the tribute in the world, but that pork does belong to me, Rau.”
“You are not permitted to have meat while taking our medicines,” he said, dismissively.
She peered at him in circumspection. “I don’t recall you mentioning that stipulation before. I find it convenient that you should care to do so now.”
The giant paused, his cheeks filled with pork. “And?” he said, shoving another slice into his mouth.
“And,” she laughed, “You’re going to allow me to starve on your inedible bread while you skulk off with something that was meant for both of us?”
“Perhaps.”
“Savior, indeed,” the commander fleered. “You have saved me from one means of death only to plunge me into another.”
― Michelle Franklin, The Commander And The Den Asaan Rautu

“I tell my girls when you have done everything humanly possible, when you have fought with everything in you for something you truly believe in and it is still out of reach, it's time to become a feather. Let the wind guide you for awhile....”
― Susan Goldsmith

“I like flaws. I think they make things interesting.”
― Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever

“I love humanity but I hate people.”
― Edna St. Vincent Millay

“I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of any thing than of a book! -- When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.”
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

“A room without books is like a body without a soul.”
― Marcus Tullius Cicero

“Insanity is doing the same thing, over and over again, but expecting different results.”
― Narcotics Anonymous

“Friendship ... is born at the moment when one man says to another "What! You too? I thought that no one but myself . . .”
― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

“Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.”
― Oscar Wilde

“You never have to change anything you got up in the middle of the night to write.”
― Saul Bellow

“You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.”
― Dr. Seuss

“I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living.”
― Dr. Seuss

“Be classy, if you must say anything at all. I think silence is very classy.”
― Mette Ivie Harrison