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A Quotes

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All A Quotes

“Aye, born heir to the infinite thou art, within the heart is the ocean of love, "give, give away," - whoever asks return, his ocean dwindles down to a mere drop. From the highest brahman to the yonder worm, and to the very minutest atom, Everywhere is the same god, the all-love; Friend, offer mind, soul, body, at their feet. These are his manifold forms before thee, rejecting them, where seekest thou for god? who loves all beings, without distinction, he indeed is worshipping best his god. Vivekananda”

“Aye, Claudia. You are mine, and I protect what is mine. Our children will never know the fear you have lived with all these years." He brushed his thumb across her lower lip. "In time I will make you forget your fears and replace them with smiles. I want sleepy smiles when you wake up in my arms each morning. Sensual smiles when you arouse my passions at night. Playful smiles when you tell me I am pigheaded in my business ventures." He kissed the corners of her mouth, gentle, undemanding kisses that melted her resistance. "That is one of the reasons I would marry you, sweetheart. Your smiles make me feel things I have never felt before. They are as addictive as a fine wine, and just as rare. I want them all.”

“Aye, I can.” He pressed his hand against her belly above her womb. “I love you, Bethie Stewart. Any child you conceive of me will be born of that love. You’ll be a light to our children, as you are a light to Belle—as you are a light to me.” She looked into his eyes, saw the full force of his feelings revealed there, felt as if her heart were singing. He loved her . Oh, how she had longed to hear those precious words! And yet . . . “I dinnae know if our love will be enough.” “It will be more than enough.” Then he covered her mouth with his, and she forgot everything but him.”

“Aye, Icarium. Such are memories in full flood. We are not simple creatures. You dream that with memories will come knowledge, and from knowledge, understanding. But for every answer you find, a thousand new questions arise. All that we were has led us to where we are, but tells us little of where we’re going. Memories are a weight you can never shrug off.” A stubborn tone was evident as Icarium muttered, “A burden I would accept nonetheless.” “Let me offer some advice. Do not say that to Mappo, unless you wish to further break his heart.” The Trell’s blood was a thunder coursing through him, his chest aching with a breath held overlong. “I do not understand,” Icarium said quietly after a time, “but I would never do that, lass.” Mappo let the air loose, slowly, struggling to control himself. He felt tears run crooked tracks from the corners of his eyes. “I do not understand.” This time, the words were a whisper. “Yet you wish to.” There was no reply to that. A minute passed, then there came to Mappo sounds of movement. “Here, Icarium,” Apsalar said, “dry those eyes. Jhag never weep.”

“Aye, fight and you may die. Run, and you'll live…at least a while. And dying in your beds, many years from now, would you be willing' to trade all the days, from this day to that, for one chance, just one chance, to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they'll never take…OUR FREEDOM?!”

“Aye, well, he'll be wed a long time," he said callously. "Do him no harm to keep his breeches on for one night. And they do say that abstinence makes the heart grow firmer, no?" "Absence," I said, dodging the spoon for a moment. "AND fonder. If anything's growing firmer from abstinence, it wouldn't be his heart.”

“Ayelet Fishbach, a professor of behavioral science at the University of Chicago, said, "Food really connects people. Food is about bringing something into the body. And to eat the same food suggests that we are both willing to bring the same thing into our bodies. People just feel closer to people who are eating the same food as they do.”

“Ayer unas personas me preguntaron cuál era, para mí, el gran problema de la literatura chilena. Ya es bastante absurdo que en una conversación de pasillo pueda darse una pregunta como esa. Las conversaciones de pasillo, por lo demás, siempre fracasan, o al menos así se me presentan la mayoría de las veces: como simples promesas de dispersión. Pero respondí, con seguridad, que el problema de la literatura chilena era la costumbre de escribir cigarrillo en lugar de cigarro. En Chile nadie dice cigarrillo, decimos cigarro, argumenté, como golpeando una mesa imaginaria, pero los escritores chilenos escriben cigarrillo, y al final agregué esta frase absolutamente demagógica: Yo soy de los que escriben cigarro.”

“Ayla, I looked for you all my life and didn't know I was looking. You are everything I ever wanted, everything I ever dreamed of in a woman, and more. You are a fascinating enigma, a paradox. You are totally honest, open; you hide nothing: yet you are the most mysterious woman I've ever met.”

“Ayn Rand held that art is a 're-creation of reality according to an artist's metaphysical value-judgements.' By its nature, therefore, a novel (like a statue or a symphony) does not require or tolerate an explanatory preface; it is a self-contained universe, aloof from commentary, beckoning the reader to enter, perceive, respond.”

“Aynayı bıraktı. Kırk iki yıl kalmıştı! Kırk iki yıl daha nasıl dayanacaktı? Kırk iki yıl daha yılların geçmesini bekleyecekti. Kırk iki yıl daha yaşlanan gözlerine bakacaktı. Zaman hapishanesinden kaçmanın bir yolu yok muydu? Ah, keşke tekrar en baştan başlayabilseydi! Ama nasıl? Nereden? Kiminle? Bertha ile olmazdı. O özgürdü istediği zaman onun hapishanesine girip çıkar ya da uçup gidebilirdi. Üstelik onunla asla “biz” olunamazdı; “bizim” yaşamımız, “bizim” yeni yaşamımız mümkün olamazdı.”

“Aynı kafa yapısıyla binlerce hayat yaşasan bile hepsi aynı olacaktır! Farklı bir yaşam edinmek için farklı bir kafa yapısı edin!”

“Aynı kişi olmanı bekliyorlar: Aynı düşman. Aynı sevgili. Aynı çocuk. Aynı yazar. Aynı esnaf. Aynı isyancı. Aynı çizer. Aynı arkadaş. Aynı amatör. Aynı tanıdık. Aynı yabancı... Seni ‘öyle’ tanımış olanlar, seni hep ‘öyle’ görmek istiyor: Halbuki eski düşmanların bile en temel stratejik hatasıdır ‘seni hâlâ o kişi sanmaları’.”