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H Quotes

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All H Quotes

“He woke one morning tantalized by an idea: if he could catch the orchard trees motionless for one second -- for half of one second -- then none of it would have happened. The kitchen door would bang open and in his father would walk, red-faced and slapping his hands and exclaiming about some newly whelped pup. Childish, Edgar knew, but he didn't care. The trick was to not focus on any single part of any tree, but to look through them all toward a point in the air. But how insidious a bargain he'd made. Even in the quietest moment some small thing quivered and the tableau was destroyed. How many afternoons slipped away like that? How many midnights standing in the spare room, watching the trees shiver in the moonlight? Still he watched, transfixed. Then, blushing because it was futile and silly, he forced himself to walk away. When he blinked, an afterimage of perfect stillness. To think it might happen when he wasn't watching. He turned back before he reached the door. Through the window glass, a dozen trees strummed by the winter wind, skeletons dancing pair-wise, fingers raised to heaven. Stop it, he told himself. Just stop. And watched some more.”

“he woman Caeiro fell in love with. I have no idea who she was, and I intend to never find out, not even out of curiosity. There are things of which the soul refuses to lose its ignorance. I’m perfectly aware no one’s obliged to reciprocate love, and great poets have nothing to do with being great lovers. But there’s a transcendent spite... Let her remain anonymous even to God!”

“He won healing, He won deliverance, He won financial prosperity, mental prosperity, physical prosperity, family prosperity. He said He would meet my needs according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus, and I am walking around and saying, "Yes, my needs are met according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus." Glory to God, I am coveting to the "need meter"; I am coveting to the I AM; Hallelujah! And I say this with all respect so that it don't upset you too bad, but I say it anyway; when I read in the Bible where He says "I AM" I just smile and say "Yes, I AM too!"”

“He won’t have long, daughter.’ ‘Who won’t?’ she replies, puzzled. Without another word, the entity’s eyes close and Eight’s body begins to tremble. To my surprise, the energy actually recedes from his body. The cracks along the backs of his hands stop glowing and close up, as does the one that opened across his forehead. After a few seconds, the only thing left glowing on Eight is the wound over his heart. He floats out of the column of energy and ends up right in front of Marina. When Eight opens his eyes, they don’t glow. They’re green, just like I remember them, serene, but with a spark of that old mischief. Eight’s lips curl into a slow smile as he sees Marina. ‘Wow, hi,’ Eight says, and when he speaks it’s with his own voice. It’s him. It’s really him. Marina nearly doubles over with a delighted sob. She collects herself quickly, though, and grabs Eight first by the shoulders, then on the sides of his face. She pulls him in close. ‘You’re warm,’ she says in wonder. ‘You’re so warm.’ Eight laughs easily. He puts his hand over Marina’s and gently kisses the side of it. ‘You’re warm, too,’ he says. ‘I’m so sorry, Eight. I’m sorry I couldn’t heal you.’ Eight shakes his head. ‘Stop, Marina. It’s okay. You brought me here. It’s – I can’t even describe it. It’s amazing in there.’ Already, I see the energy spreading outward from Eight’s heart. It races through his body, fissures opening on his arms and legs. He doesn’t seem to be in any pain. He just smiles at Marina and looks at her like he’s trying to memorize her face. ‘Can I kiss you?’ Marina asks him. ‘I really wish you would.’ Marina kisses him, pressing in close, squeezing him. As she does, the energy swells up from within Eight and, slowly, his body begins to break apart. It’s different from when a Mogadorian disintegrates. It’s as if, for a moment, I can see every cell in Eight’s body and see how the energy from the well glows in between each of them. One by one, those pieces of Eight dissolve, and he becomes one with the light. Marina tries to cling to him, but her fingers pass right through the energy. And then, he’s gone.”

“He wondered about the people in houses like those. They would be, for example, small clerks, shop-assistants, commercial travellers, insurance touts, tram conductors. Did they know that they were only puppets dancing when money pulled the strings? You bet they didn’t. And if they did, what would they care? They were too busy being born, being married, begetting, working, dying. It mightn’t be a bad thing, if you could manage it, to feel yourself one of them, one of the ruck of men. Our civilization is founded on greed and fear, but in the lives of common men the greed and fear are mysteriously transmuted into something nobler. The lower-middle-class people in there, behind their lace curtains, with their children and their scraps of furniture and their aspidistras — they lived by the money-code, sure enough, and yet they contrived to keep their decency. The money-code as they interpreted it was not merely cynical and hoggish. They had their standards, their inviolable points of honour. They ‘kept themselves respectable’— kept the aspidistra flying. Besides, they were alive. They were bound up in the bundle of life. They begot children, which is what the saints and the soul-savers never by any chance do. The aspidistra is the tree of life, he thought suddenly.”

“He wondered, as he had many times wondered before, whether he himself was a lunatic. Perhaps a lunatic was simply a minority of one. At one time it had been a sign of madness to believe that the earth goes round the sun; today, to believe that the past is inalterable. He might be ALONE in holding that belief, and if alone, then a lunatic. But the thought of being a lunatic did not greatly trouble him: the horror was that he might also be wrong.”