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B Quotes

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All B Quotes

“Bennet harrumphed, annoyance building within his breast. Was he required to spell it out for them both? Had he thought them poorly suited he might have held his tongue, but Mr. Darcy’s intelligence alone was enough to ensure Elizabeth would have a happy life with him, a matter which had always given Bennet much concern. Most men did not wish for a clever wife. It was clear to him they belonged together, or at least they would suit each other well.”

“Bennett reached for the fork first and scooped up a perfect bite of everything, which was a relief. A relief that turned into panic when he held the fork out toward me. Not for me to take---for me to take a bite. "For you, sweetheart." His eyes sparkled behind his glasses. I squared my shoulders. I could not believe this was happening. "Thank you, darling," I forced out, and let him feed me. My lips closed over the fork, Bennett watching the entire time. My face warmed again at the intentness of his stare on my mouth, but surely he was just watching to see when he could remove the utensil. The babka beignet was spectacular, light and fluffy and buttery, the chocolate filling dark and sweet against the tart brightness of the cherry. I parted my lips so that he could pull the fork back. His face was red again. Fortunately, he didn't make me feed him, just took a bite himself. Sadie asked, "So? What do you think?" "Delicious," he said, but he wasn't even looking at the dessert. He was looking at me. I couldn't even bring myself to answer. I could still feel the insistent push of his fork against my lips.”

“Bennett. Without. A. Shirt. My breath hitched in my throat, jaw dropping the way Bennett had dropped his wet button-down on the scuffed linoleum floor. He had his arms over his head, preparing to put them through the sleeves of the T-shirt, which left his long, lean torso on full display. A thin coating of soft brown-blond hair dusted his pecs and traveled down his stomach in a line. At least it looked soft. Obviously, I wouldn't know without running my fingers over it, following the line it made down his stomach and into his jeans, over his...”

“Bennie's corner of Brooklyn looked different every time Sierra passed through it. She stopped at the corner of Washington Avenue and St. John's Place to take in the changing scenery. A half block from where she stood, she'd skinned her knee playing hopscotch while juiced up on iceys and sugar drinks. Bennie's brother, Vincent, had been killed by the cops on the adjacent corner, just a few steps from his own front door. Now her best friend's neighborhood felt like another planet. The place Sierra and Bennie used to get their hair done had turned into a fancy bakery of some kind, and yes, the coffee was good, but you couldn't get a cup for less than three dollars. Plus, every time Sierra went in, the hip, young white kid behind the counter gave her either the don't-cause-no-trouble look or the I-want-to-adopt-you look. The Takeover (as Bennie had dubbed it once) had been going on for a few years now, but tonight its pace seemed to have accelerated tenfold. Sierra couldn't find a single brown face on the block. It looked like a late-night frat party had just let out; she was getting funny stares from all sides--as if she was the out-of-place one, she thought. And then, sadly, she realized she was the out-of-place one.”

“Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs And towards our distant rest began to trudge. Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots Of disappointed shells that dropped behind. GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling, Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time; But someone still was yelling out and stumbling And floundering like a man in fire or lime.-- Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. In all my dreams, before my helpless sight, He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. If in some smothering dreams you too could pace Behind the wagon that we flung him in, And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin; If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,-- My friend, you would not tell with such high zest To children ardent for some desperate glory, The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.”

“Bentham spent much of his life writing constitutions and proposing legal reform in the light of his utilitarianism. The evaluation of particular acts was hardly his concern. The psychology of his day was hedonistic and he worked in that framework and passed it on to Mill, but it is clear as day that Mill was not a hedonist in the sense in which we use that term today, though he used the language of pleasure and pain to express his views.”

“Benvenuti, benvenuti a Caraval! Il più grande spettacolo della terra e del mare. Al suo interno vedrete più meraviglie di quante la maggior parte della gente veda nell'arco di una vita intera. Potrete sorseggiare magia da una tazza e comprare sogni in bottiglia. Ma prima d’immergervi nel nostro mondo, dovete ricordare che è tutto un gioco. Ciò che succede oltre questo cancello potrebbe essere spaventoso o eccitante, ma non lasciatevi trarre in inganno. Proveremo a convincervi che sia vero, quando in realtà è tutta una messa in scena. Un mondo fatto di finzione. Noi cercheremo di coinvolgervi, e voi state attenti a non farvi coinvolgere troppo. I sogni che diventano realtà possono essere bellissimi, ma anche trasformarsi in incubi quando le persone non vogliono svegliarsi.”

“Benzer biriyle olmak, adeta içsel bir emniyet kuşağında yaşamaktır; çünkü o kişi, kendi benlik algımıza ayna tutar. Bu ayna bize kendimizi hatırlatmakla kalmaz; ilişkide varlığımızın onaylandığını, anlaşıldığımızı ve kabul edildiğimizi de hissettirir.”

“Benzer düşünceler, aceminin haftalar veya aylarını 'literatüre hakim olma'ya harcaması için de sözkonusudur. Kitap öğretisine aşırı bağımlılık hayal gücünü sınırlayıcı ve köstekleyici bir etki yapar. Başkalarının yaptığı araştırmalar üzerinde durmaksızın kafa yormak bazen, psikolojik açıdan, bizzat araştırma yapmanın yerini tutmaktadır; tıpkı roman okumanın, gerçek hayatta yaşanılacak romanların yerini alması gibi.”

“Benzer ruhlar benzer yerlerde dolaşırlar! Birbirlerini tanımayabilirler fakat çoğu kez aynı rüzgârlara dokunurlar, aynı yapraklara basarlar, bakışları aynı ufuklarda kaybolur!”

“Ber-lim e o Homem-Com-a-Boca-Aberta andavam quase sempre juntos, a vaguear, perdidos, mas agora, como estavam os dois, lado a lado, já não pareciam tão loucos, pareciam ter um objectivo, a coisa ganhava estupidamente sentido porque um louco caminhava ao lado de outro louco, e os dois lado a lado, falavam, de quê, ninguém sabe, mas para a Cidade inteira estavam bem menos loucos do que antes, pois estavam juntos”