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Quote by Oriana Fallaci

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Letter to a Child Never Born

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Oriana Fallaci
Oriana Fallaci

Oriana Fallaci (June 29, 1930 – September 15, 2006) was an Italian journalist and author, renowned for her aggressive and incisive interviewing style. Born in Florence, she fought in the Italian resistance during World War II before becoming a journalist. She interviewed numerous world leaders, including Deng Xiaoping, Henry Kissinger, and Yasser Arafat, often challenging them with tough questions. Her works, such as 'Interview with History' and 'The Rage and the Pride,' have left a lasting impact. Fallaci died of cancer in Florence, but her fearless spirit continues to inspire journalists globally. more

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“Stop looking so nervous,' Cassian muttered out of the corner of his mouth. 'I'm not nervous,' Nesta muttered back, even as she bounced on her feet, trying not to stare toward the open archway as the clock ticked toward nine. 'Just relax.' He straightened his jacket. 'You're the one fidgeting,' she hissed. 'Because you're making me fidget.”

“After a while Heebie's tentative tail swishes and cautious sniffs around her cheeks. Dina shifted to her side so Heebie could crawl into the curve of her lap, kneading Dina's belly with her sharp little claws. "What are you baking today, Madame Heebie?" Dina sniffed, tickling the cat under her chin as she kneaded. She liked to imagine Heebie in a little baker's hat and had once even tried knitting one--- but Heebie had hissed when Dina had tried to dress her in it. She wasn't sure how long she stayed there, petting Heebie's soft black fur, but slowly the pain in her chest started to loosen, as if gentle fingers were prying open a stiff knot thread by thread. It wasn't gone, but it was a little quieter for now.”

“Blaming others for your low self-esteem, for your lack of money, for being overweight, or for feeling bad, is NOT going to make your life better. Take responsibility. Work on it. The choice is yours.”

“Everywhere I landed, I didn't really feel like I belonged. Doing postgrad stuff, I felt like I didn't have any skills. Just felt unaccomplished. I was just there to ride out the downturn, and I felt like everybody knew it. Then there's the shame of unemployment. because I wasn't really unemployed. There were plenty of people who were actually looking for jobs. Auntie had lost her job as a tax analyst, turned around and became a nurse. Felt like I was ducking and dodging responsibility. I was just overeducated and useless, taking a job from someone who needed it and deserved it more than me. Got put in a psych ward after a suicide attempt, and when I was in that place, I didn't even feel like I was really depressed or really going through it. Felt like I was faking it to get out of something. Like I was avoiding work. Felt like there was no place for me, because I wasn't capable of working. All my friends who studied econ got jobs overseas, and I was just walking around taking up space.”

Book:Goliath

“It’s hard to remember that this day will never come again. That the time is now and the place is here and that there are no second chances at a single moment. During the days that Bonaparte stayed in Boulogne, there was a feeling of urgency and privilege. He woke before us and slept along after us, going through every detail of our training and rallying us personally. He stretched his hand towards the Channel and made England sound as though she already belonged to us. To each of us. That was his gift. He became the focus of our lives. The thought of fighting excited us. No one wants to be killed but the hardship, the long hours, the cold, the orders were things we would have endured anyway on the farms or in the towns. We were not free men. He made sense out of dullness.”

“They laid up in the shade of a rock shelf until past noon, scratching out a place in the gray lava dust to sleep, and they set forth in the afternoon down the valley following the war trail and they were very small and they moved very slowly in the immensity of that landscape. Come evening they hove toward the rimrock again and Sproule pointed out a dark stain on the face of the barren cliff. It looked like the black from old fires. The kid shielded his eyes. The scalloped canyon walls rippled in the heat like drapery folds.”