All Quotes By Tag: Fiction

“And whose rules will choose to you follow? God’s? Or man’s? You say you want to break the outmoded patterns and crate a new model? Then do it. That is part of your destiny, boy.”

“Mary approaches her before she is able to reach her station. “Hello Lily. Get anything special for Christmas?””Just the usual.” She answers. “Shattered dreams.”

“The great thing about writing fiction is that you can do whatever the fuck you want, go as far as you are willing to go, and laugh at the people who take it seriously.”

“my boy? he is evenbetter than books. -fiction has nothing on you.”

“Get off! Get off me, ‘Felix sobbed, sounding like a little kid. Marco kicked at the sickos, slashing with his knife. It was no good, though— there were just too many of them — and he himself toppled over, landing on his friend and smothering him.‘It’s all right Felix, ‘he said. ‘I’m with you. It’s all right. You’re not alone. ‘He felt for Felix’s hand held it tight, as more gym bunnies blocked out the light, swamping them.”

“The love that we feel for each other is not about the worldly things, those materialistic possessions, or great looks either.It’s about the breath I hold at your sheer sight. It’s about the constant drumming of my heart when you come near me, making me aware of your control on me, and how my senses crave for more of you. My love for you is ‘you’, and it will still take me eternity to figure out more of it!”

“Romantic literature is in effect imaginative lying.”

“Stories serve multiple purposes. At a basic level they are great entertainment, which is essential for living a happy and healthy life, but on a deeper level stories help us explore issues that are otherwise difficult to address. On one hand a good book helps us escape our troubles, and on the other hand it can help us face up to those troubles by bringing real issues to the fore, often in a more manageable way, since the problems are experienced vicariously through the eyes of another.”

“This isn’t your world. It’s your parents. Your world is still out there, waiting to be discovered. Always remember that.”

“Returning my voice to a conversational level, I called back, “Nora, I’m notattempting to embarrass you or single you out. I know you’re capable. But stay behind Chas, okay? You die, you d i e permanently, and for various reasons that we’ve already gotten angsty about together, I don’t want that to happen.”“Okay, okay,” she sighed.“Angsty?” Chas asked. “Ooh! Later, details!”“Yes, later.” With that, I waved the team forward.”

“The door wasn’t closing. Shiloh’s spirit opened up as she considered the possibilities.”

“Even if we try to conform to ideals and strive for perfection, we will always be pulled back to our core identity because it’s the path of least resistance for our souls – an energy force that wants nothing more than for us to honor and accept who we are and discover what we’re meant to do in the world.”

“Hurricanes couldn’t remove you from my mind. You’re my world and I’m incapable of not loving you.”

“Can you identify the source preventing you from feeling good every single day, from loving yourself unconditionally and making your dreams come true? Is it a voice in your head or a gut wrenching ache that compromises your inner peace and doesn’t allow you to accept the love around you? Is there one thing, or maybe many things, keeping you from forgiving your past and moving forward, tormenting you with lies like “You don’t deserve real love so just settle for whatever you can get,” “You’re not smart enough to achieve your dream so don’t even try,” or “Look at your past… you should hate yourself way more than you actually do!”?Welcome to your Little Monster.”

“I told you in the course of this paper that Shakespeare had a sister; but do not look for her in Sir Sidney Lee’s life of the poet. She died young–alas, she never wrote a word. She lies buried where the omnibuses now stop, opposite the Elephant and Castle. Now my belief is that this poet who never wrote a word and was buried at the crossroads still lives. She lives in you and in me, and in many other women who are not here tonight, for they are washing up the dishes and putting the children to bed. But she lives; for great poets do not die; they are continuing presences; they need only the opportunity to walk among us in the flesh.”