(no subject)
Jul. 24th, 2008 | 06:29 pm
posted by:
aintbovvered in
literaryquotes
In a way, her strangeness, her naïveté, her craving for the other half of her equation was the consequence of an idle imagination. Had she paints, or clay, or knew the discipline of the dance or strings; had she anything to engage her tremendous curiosity and gift for metaphor, she might have exchanged the restlessness and preoccupation with whim for an activity that provided her with all she yarned for.
And like any artist with no art form, she became dangerous.
Toni Morrison, Sula
And like any artist with no art form, she became dangerous.
Toni Morrison, Sula
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(no subject)
Jul. 24th, 2008 | 04:25 pm
mood:
excited
posted by:
felineinstincts in
literaryquotes
Yet now and then in some overwhelming tragedy evil and good are so strangely mixed that these selfish and self-centered people are forced to pause in their restless pursuit of their own affairs, and their hearts are momentarily touched; but the impression made on them is fleeting, it vanishes as quickly as a delicious fruit melts in the mouth.
Old Goriot, Balzac (translated by Marion Ayton Crawford)
Old Goriot, Balzac (translated by Marion Ayton Crawford)
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(no subject)
Jul. 24th, 2008 | 01:13 pm
posted by:
ohbrilliantwhit in
literaryquotes
"Love is our response to our highest values."
Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged
Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged
