Historical Novel Quotes

Quotes tagged as "historical-novel" Showing 1-30 of 66
Diana   Forbes
“I felt hot under my Mutton sleeves. "I just wish he'd have the decency to say whatever he came to say in front of his wife."
"Perhaps his wife is busy today."
"She shouldn't be." His wife should track him like a bloodhound.”
Diana Forbes, Mistress Suffragette

Ellen Brazer
“Some people like the Jews, and some do not. But no thoughtful man can deny the fact that they are, beyond any question, the most formidable and most remarkable race which has appeared in the world.
— Winston S. Churchill”
Ellen Brazer, Clouds Across the Sun

“Pomposity plans your eviction just as your derriere is settling on to the finest of cushions.”
Harry F. MacDonald, Casanova and the Devil's Doorbell

“As libertines we seek to find and provide pleasures for others before pleasing ourselves. Libertines are never boorish, profane or blasphemous. We seek to lessen any cause for offence while maximizing pleasure. After our liaisons, our return is eagerly anticipated, and our departure is mourned. For most men the reverse is the case. In a world where most men are barely on before they are off again, we take the time and the care to be gentle lovers and build the sighs and the panting of true delight.”
Harry F. MacDonald, Casanova and the Devil's Doorbell

“…they looked about as careful and as discreet as a troupe of Visigoths at an afternoon tea party.”
Harry F. MacDonald, Casanova and the Devil's Doorbell

Erik Larson
“The intermittent depression that had shadowed him throughout his adult life was about to envelop him once again. ”
Erik Larson, The Devil in the White City

“Plans are for those without the good sense to savor the present. Others make plans and neglect their opportunities as they trickle through their fingers like dust. We find beauty in what is.”
Harry F. MacDonald, Casanova and the Devil's Doorbell

“Disgusting foods, as Madame de Pompadour discovered, do not arouse the senses. They only dull them. Seduction, as you know by now, for women starts with the ears and for men starts with the eyes and for both, travels directly to the stomach. Some say you need sweet murmurings in the ears, but I say laughter, intrigue and delicacies are more powerful.”
Harry F. MacDonald, Casanova and the Devil's Doorbell

David Wellington
“Shit rolls downhill. Bureaucracy rolls faster.”
David Wellington

Iva Kenaz
“One should learn to connect the bridge between the heart and the mind. That’s what crowns you with eternity, and makes you the master of your own life rather than a slave of someone else’s.”
Iva Kenaz, The Merkaba Mystery

“For the first time in his life, Midhat wished he were more religious. Of course he prayed, but though that was a private mechanism it sometimes felt like a public act, and the lessons of the Quran were lessons by rote, one was steeped in them, hearing them so often. They were the texture of his world, and yet they did not occupy that central, vital part of his mind, the part that was vibrating at this moment, on this train, rattling forward while he struggled to hold all these pieces. As a child he had felt some of the same curiosity he held for the mysteries of other creeds—for Christianity with its holy fire, the Samaritans with their alphabets—but that feeling had dulled while he was still young, when traditional religion began to seem a worldly thing, a realm of morals and laws and the same old stories and holidays. They were acts, not thoughts. He faced the water now along the coast, steadying his gaze on the slow distance, beyond the blur of trees pushing past the tracks, on the desolate fishing boats hobbling over the waves. He sensed himself tracing the lip of something very large, something black and well-like, a vessel which was at the same time an emptiness, and he thought, without thinking precisely, only feeling with the tender edges of his mind, what the Revelation might have been for in its origin. Why it was so important that they could argue to the sword what it meant if God had hands, and whether He had made the universe. Underneath it all was a living urgency, that original issue of magnitude; the way several hundred miles on foot could be nothing to the mind, Nablus to Cairo, one thought of a day’s journey by train, but placed vertically that same distance in depth exposed the body’s smallness and suddenly one thought of dying. Did one need to face the earth, nose to soil, to feel that distance towering above? There was something of his own mortality in this. Oh then but why, in a moment of someone else’s death, must he think of his own disappearance?”
Isabella Hammad, The Parisian

“She is my friend, and there is nothing you can say or do that can stop me from helping her.”
Peter G. Nogel

“Stored personal memories along with handed down collective memories of stories, legends, and history allows us to collate our interactions with a physical and social world and develop a personal code of survival. In essence, we all become self-styled sages, creating our own book of wisdom based upon our studied observations and practical knowledge gleaned from living and learning. What we quickly discover is that no textbook exist how to conduct our life, because the world has yet to produce a perfect person – an ideal observer – whom is capable of handing down a concrete exemplar of epistemic virtues. We each draw upon the guiding knowledge, theories, and advice available for us in order to explore the paradoxes, ironies, inconsistencies, and the absurdities encountered while living in a supernatural world. We mold our personal collection of information into a practical practicum how to live and die. Each day we define and redefine who we are, determine how we will react today, and chart our quest into an uncertain future.”
Kilroy J. Oldster, Dead Toad Scrolls

Bill Fairclough
“Don't ask me, I'm British.”
Bill Fairclough, Beyond Enkription

Vladimir Bartol
“Xalqın qayğısız və tənbəl olduğunun fərqinə vardım. Onlar üçün özümü fəda etməyə dəyməzdi. Nahaq yerə onları oyandırmağa və ayıltmağa çalışmışdım. Yoxsa insanların həqiqətin nə olduğuna maraq göstərdiklərinə inanırsan? Heç veclərinə belə deyil! İstədikləri ancaq rahatlıqlarının pozulmaması və xəyal güclərini canlandırmaq üçün uydurulmuş nağıllardan ibarətdir. Ya da kimin haqlı kimin haqsız olduğunun onlar üçün əhəmiyyət kəsb etdiyinimi fikirləşirsən? Əsla! Yetər ki, onların istəklərinin bir qismini yerinə yetirəsən.”
Vladimir Bartol, Alamut

“The seasons drift. Time is fluid and people change. But I have never lost faith... even if the world turned upside down I could still find you.”
Threads of Time

“A good measure of a society’s primitiveness is the way in which it treats its poor.”
Juliane Weber

Lise Arin
“If queens did not exist, the poets would have had to invent them, so necessary as they are to a nation's glory.”
Lise Arin, Matilda Empress

“¡Qué poco sabían estas personas que las masas siempre dan la bienvenida al lobo disfrazado en la piel de cordero! ¡Qué poco conocían del significado de "circo y pan para la gente"!ç”
Olga Lengyel, Los hornos de Hitler

“¡Qué poco sabían estas personas que las masas siempre dan la bienvenida al lobo disfrazado en la piel de cordero! ¡Qué poco conocían del significado de "circo y pan para la gente"!”
Olga Lengyel, Los hornos de Hitler

Chandra Prasad
“Mother once said I’d marry a quarryman. She looked at me as we washed clothes in the giant steel washtub, two pairs of water-wrinkled hands scrubbing and soaking other people’s laundry. We were elbow-deep in dirty suds and our fingers brushed under the foamy mounds.
“Some mistakes are bound to be repeated,” she murmured
We lived in Stony Creek, a granite town at a time when granite was going out of fashion. There were only three types of men here: Cottagers, rich, paunchy vacationers who swooped into our little Connecticut town in May and wiled away time on their sailboats through August; townsmen, small-time merchants and business owners who dreamed of becoming Cottagers; and quarrymen, men like my father, who worked with no thought to the future.
The quarrymen toiled twelve hours a day, six days a week. They didn’t care that they smelled of granite dust and horses, grease and putty powder. They didn’t care about cleaning the crescents of grime from underneath their fingernails. Even when they heard the foreman’s emergency signal, three sharp shrieks of steam, they scarcely looked up from their work. In the face of a black powder explosion gone awry or the crushing finality of a wrongly cleaved stone, they remained undaunted.
I knew why they lived this way. They did it for the granite. Nowhere else on earth did such stone exist—mesmerizing collages of white quartz, pink and gray feldspar, black lodestone, winking glints of mica. Stony Creek granite was so striking, it graced the most majestic of architecture: the Battle Monument at West Point, the Newberry Library in Chicago, the Fulton Building in Pittsburgh, the foundations of the Statue of Liberty and the Brooklyn Bridge. The quarrymen of Stony Creek would wither and fall before the Cottagers, before the townsmen. But the fruits of their labor tethered them to a history that would stand forever.
“You’ll marry one, Adele—I’m sure of it. His hands will be tough as buckskin, but you’ll love him regardless,” Mother told me, her breath warm in my ear as the steam of the wastewater rose around us.
I didn’t say that she was wrong, that she couldn’t know what would happen. I’d learned that from the quarry. Pa was a stonecutter and he cut the granite according to rift and grain, to what he could feel with his fingertips and see with his eyes. But there were cracks below the surface, cracks that betrayed the careful placement of a chisel and the pounding of a mallet. The most beautiful piece of stone could shatter into a pile of riprap. It all depended on where those cracks teased and wound, on where the stone would fracture when forced apart.
“Keep your eyes open, Adele. I don’t know who it will be—a steam driller, boxer, derrickman, powderman? Maybe a stonecutter like your father?”
I turned away from her, feigning disinterest. “There’s no predicting, I told her.”
Chandra Prasad

Carragh Sheridan
“Il corridoio del secondo piano del padiglione di storia era deserto.
Il rumore dei tacchi della donna risuonava rimbombando da una parete all’altra e riempiendo il silenzio.
I passi cadenzati scandirono il loro ritmo fino alla fine del corridoio.
La donna osservò la porta di legno scuro dove si leggeva il nome del professor Benjamin Bessòn.
Si guardò intorno.
Il pavimento del lungo corridoio di marmo rosso era illuminato dal sole del tardo pomeriggio.
Le lame di luce calda di quel giorno di primavera fendevano le vetrate a piombo che riempivano le alte finestre.
C’era odore di antico, di libri, di cultura e di conversazioni spese, disperse e coltivate tra quelle mura.
Accanto alla porta dell’ufficio del professor Bessòn era stata sistemata, lungo la parete, una panca in legno.
La donna si lisciò la gonna del completo e si sbottonò la giacca.
Tentò di ravviarsi i capelli che non volevano rimanere in ordine.
Sfilò e infilò nuovamente un paio di forcine nella crocchia sulla nuca.
Il frusciare dei suoi abiti sembrava stracciare quel silenzio sacro che saturava l’ambiente.
Si sedette e si lasciò avvolgere da quell’ambiente immerso in un’atmosfera che sembrava trasportare lontano anni luce dalla frenesia e dal caos della città al di fuori.
Carragh Sheridan, Benjamin Bessòn. Alla ricerca del Tesoro dei Catari

“For us, bearers of life, to murder for ideals is the worst aberrataion created by humankind. Mothers capable of generating life could never become accomplices to so much death.”
Karen Hoyt

Michelle Deerwester-Dalrymple
“She grasped his head with her hands, drawing him to her, and kissed him with all the emotion she could muster. If he had no solace in his childhood, he would now find solace with her.”
Michelle Deerwester-Dalrymple, The Lady of the Glen

Annemarie Schiavi Pedersen
“Everything bad starts with a jealous person."
--Celestina DiCapria”
Annemarie Schiavi Pedersen, Celestina's Burnings

“He’d write a character for himself. His character would be tall, much taller than he is now. And his sisters would recognize him as dashing. He’d have personal freedom, his own, a way to escape, to escape from them all.”
Douglas A. Martin, Branwell: A Novel of the Brontë Brother

Laurence Galian
“Aliens (intermediate programmers) are not creating computer games in the ordinary sense of the term. These games are more like works of art, improvisational theater, performance art, scientific and philosophic investigation and historical novels.”
Laurence Galian, Alien Parasites: 40 Gnostic Truths to Defeat the Archon Invasion!

Gretchen Altabef
“I looked at him anew, with an understanding I never had before and with awe for the magnitude of such a mind. In a flash I understood the cocaine, his moods, and his genius." Remarkable Power of Stimulus, due out Nov. 2020.”
Gretchen Altabef, Sherlock Holmes These Scattered Houses

Noel Barber
“Anger is a futile emotion. The man who is angry loses more energy than his victim. So if you are angry you put yourself at a disadvantage.”
Noel Barber, A Farewell to France

Mariia Manko
“I continued, regardless: "Success is the ability to go from one failure to another, with no loss of enthusiasm."
"What does that mean?"
"It takes real strength and ability to experience repeated failure and keep moving toward your goal, even when nothing appears to be coming of it, without losing enthusiasm. It signifies a desire for self-improvement; a need to constantly learn from your mistakes...”
Mariia Manko, Finding Matin Eden:Travels to find myself

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