ShyMushroomFae > ShyMushroomFae's Quotes

“There must be something in books, something we can’t imagine, to make a woman stay in a burning house; there must be something there. You don’t stay for nothing.”
― Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

“If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides to a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none. Let him forget there is such a thing as war. If the government is inefficient, top-heavy, and tax-mad, better it be all those than that people worry over it. Peace, Montag. Give the people contests they win by remembering the words to more popular songs or the names of state capitals or how much corn Iowa grew last year. Cram them full of noncombustible data, chock them so damned full of 'facts' they feel stuffed, but absolutely 'brilliant' with information. Then they'll feel they're thinking, they'll get a sense of motion without moving. And they'll be happy, because facts of that sort don't change.”
― Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

“Until I began to build and launch rockets, I didn't know my hometown was at war with itself over its children and that my parents were locked in a kind of bloodless combat over how my brother and I would live our lives> I didn't know that if a girl broke your heart, another girl, virtuous at least in spirit, could mend it on the same night. And I didn't know that the enthalpy decrease in a converging passage could be transformed into jet kinetic energy if a divergent passage was added. The other boys discovered their own truths when we built our rockets, but those were mine.”
― Homer Hickam

“The feeling that you want to own someone body and soul, spirit them away from everyone else, have them all to yourself forever and ever and ever,” Hugo said dreamily. “It’s called love.”
“No, it’s called kidnapping,” said Tavi.”
― Jennifer Donnelly, Stepsister

“They were not pretty, these women. Pretty did not begin to describe them.
They were shrewd. Powerful. Wily. Proud. Dangerous.
They were strong.
There were brave.
They were beautiful.”
― Jennifer Donnelly, Stepsister

“Can’t you make yourself likeable? Can’t you even try?” Something shifted in Tavi then. She was always so flippant, trailing sarcasm behind her like a duchess trailing furs. But not this time. Hugo had pierced her armor and blood was dripping from the wound. “Try for whom, Hugo?” she repeated, her voice raw. “For the rich boys who get to go to the Sorbonne even though they’re too stupid to solve a simple quadratic equation? For the viscount I was seated next to at a dinner who tried to put his hand up my skirt through all five courses? For the smug society ladies who look me up and down and purse their lips and say no, I won’t do for their sons because my chin is too pointed, my nose is too large, I talk too much about numbers?” “Tavi …” Isabelle whispered. She went to her, tried to put an arm around her, but Tavi shook her off. “I wanted books. I wanted maths and science. I wanted an education,” Tavi said, her eyes bright with emotion. “I got corsets and gowns and high-heeled slippers instead. It made me sad, Hugo. And then it made me angry. So no, I can’t make myself likeable. I’ve tried. Over and over. It doesn’t work. If I don’t like who I am, why should you?”
― Jennifer Donnelly, Stepsister

“I could solve all the Diophantine equations, extend Newton’s work on infinite series, complete Euler's analysis of prime numbers, and it wouldn’t matter.” She looked at Isabelle. “Ella is the beauty. You and I are the ugly stepsisters. And so the world reduces us, all three of us, to our lowest common denominator.”
― Jennifer Donnelly, Stepsister

“Elizabeth walked through the path they’d cleared and up to the towering book. She kicked the cover with a well-shod foot. It slammed shut. Then she dipped her brush into the bucket, crossed out the word history, dipped the brush again, and wrote HER STORY in its place.”
― Jennifer Donnelly, Stepsister

“But an ugly girl? Ah, child, the world is made for men. An ugly girl can never be forgiven.”
― Jennifer Donnelly, Stepsister

“At the edge of Saint-Michel is the Wildwood. The wolves who live there come out at night. They prowl fields and farms, hungry for hens and tender young lambs. But there is another sort of wolf, one that's far more treacherous. This is the wolf the old ones speak of.

"Run if you see him," they tell their granddaughters. "His tongue is silver, but his teeth are sharp. If he gets hold of you, he'll eat you alive."

Most of the village girls do what they're told, but occasionally one does not. She stands her ground, looks the wolf in the eye, and falls in love with him.

People see her run to the woods at night. They see her the next morning with leaves in her hair and blood on her lips. This is not proper, they say. A girl should not love a wolf.

So they decide to intervene. They come after the wolf with guns and swords. They hunt him down in the Wildwood. But the girl is with him and sees them coming.

The people raise their rifles and take aim. The girl opens her mouth to scream, and as she does, the wolf jumps inside it. Quickly the girl swallows him whole, teeth and claws and fur. He curls up under her heart.

The villagers lower their weapons and go home. The girl heaves a sigh of relief. She believes this arrangement will work. She thinks she can be satisfied with memories of the wolf’s golden eyes. She thinks the wolf will be happy with a warm place to sleep.

But the girl soon realized she’s made a terrible mistake, for the wolf is a wild thing and wild things cannot be caged. He wants to get out, but the girl is all darkness inside and he cannot find his way.

So he howls in her blood. He tears at her heart.

The howling and gnawing –it drives the girl mad.

She tries to cut him out, slicing lines in her flesh with a razor.

She tries to burn him out, holding a candle flame to her skin.

She tries to starve him out, refusing to eat until she’s nothing but skin over bones.

Before long, the grave takes them both.

A wolf lives in Isabelle. She tries hard to keep him down, but his hunger grows. He cracks her spine and devours her heart.

Run home. Slam the door. Throw the bolt. It won’t help.

The wolves in the woods have sharp teeth and long claws, but it’s the wolf inside who will tear you apart.”
― Jennifer Donnelly

“My head constantly ached from straining to make myself understood. Even with the help of Google Translate, there were so many things I couldn’t communicate.”
― Abu Bakr al Rabeeah, Homes: A Refugee Story

“When people in the West hear Iraq, they instantly think of Saddam Hussein and the Gulf War. But when I think about my home country, I remember the honey-drenched baklava my aunts gave me, the pinches on my cheeks, affectionate tickles under my chin, and coos of laughter”
― Abu Bakr al Rabeeah, Homes: A Refugee Story

“not even children were safe from the army.”
― Abu Bakr al Rabeeah, Homes: A Refugee Story

“Never forget Syria. Or Iraq, for that matter.”
― Abu Bakr al Rabeeah, Homes: A Refugee Story

“There is nothing we can do about others’ hatred. We can only keep our own hearts clean.”
― Abu Bakr al Rabeeah, Homes: A Refugee Story

“If you admit you need people, you can lose them.' Her gaze sharpens, returning to the present. 'But needing people can save your life.”
― Amy Ewing, The White Rose

“I love sunrises, even more than sunsets. There's something so exciting about the worlds coming to life in a thousand colors.”
― Amy Ewing, The Jewel

“Nature is unselfish," she says. "It only wishes to survive. Humanity inflicts harm on it, digs up the earth, poisons the waters, harnesses rock and metal and stone for its own purposes. We are the protectors. We are the connection between humanity and nature. Nature is always searching for balance.”
― Amy Ewing, The White Rose

“I press my face against the wrought-iron bars on my window - they are arched and curl into the shape of roses, as i by making a pretty pattern, they can pretend they're something they're not.”
― Amy Ewing, The Jewel

“Violet, they do not tell you anything at Southgate. They do not even allow you to look at yourself in the mirror. The less you know, the less identity you have, the easier you are to control.”
― Amy Ewing, The Jewel

“Books. Cats. Life is good.”
― T.S. Eliot

“Only those who do not seek power are qualified to hold it.”
― Plato

“Love is a serious mental disease.”
― Plato, Phaedrus

“good people do not need laws to tell them to act responsibly, while bad people will find a way around the laws”
― Plato

“The Party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.”
― George Orwell, 1984