H Quotes
Browse famous quotes beginning with H. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.
“How simple it is to see that we can only be happy now, and that there will never be a time when it is not now.”
Source: Teach only love: the seven principles of attitudinal healing
“How simple life becomes when things like mirrors are forgotten.”
Source: Frenchman's creek
“How simple life is. It's as simple as this: you're hungry and you eat, you're full and you shit. Between eating and shitting, that's where human life is found. - (Houseboy + Maid, in Tales from Djakarta)”
Source: Tales from Djakarta: Caricatures of Circumstances and their Human Beings
“How simple life is. We buy a fish. We are fed. We sit close to each other, we talk and then we go to bed.”
“How simple our wants are as children, how easily satisfied.”
Source: The Djinn Falls in Love & Other Stories
“How simple the American narrative. Suppose you have two hands. The American political system will cut off both hands. You’ll then hear that those with one hand will be along the upper class and those with two will be part of the elite few. Then politicians will come along and tell you their plan for giving each American two hands. The people will buy into this and fight the disillusioned in favor of the politician. They are never for themselves and the politicians are only for themselves so no one is for the people.”
Source: How Dim the Promised Land
“How simple the writing of literature would be if it were only necessary to write in another way what has been well written. It is because we have had such great writers in the past that a writer is driven far out past where he can go, out to where no one can help him.”
Source: Ernest Hemingway, Knut Hamsun [and] Hermann Hesse
“How simple tomorrow seems when there is nothing worth remembering (about yesterday).”
“How simple-minded of the Germans to imagine that we British could be cowed by the destruction of our ancient monuments! As though any havoc of the German bombs could possibly equal the things we have done ourselves!”
“How, since the loss, Wren looked at her hands first thing every morning and pretended they were her mother's hands—hands that never left her, hands that lived on in the foggy transition between sleeping and waking.”
Source: Shark Heart
“How skillful to tax the middle class to pay for the relief of the poor, building resentment on top of humiliation! How adroit to bus poor black youngsters into poor white neighborhoods, in a violent exchange of impoverished schools, while the schools of the rich remain untouched and the wealth of the nation, doled out carefully where children need free milk, is drained for billion-dollar aircraft carriers. How ingenious to meet the demands of blacks and women for equality by giving them small special benefits, and setting them in competition with everyone else for jobs made scares by an irrational, wasteful system. How wise to turn the fear and anger of the majority toward a class of criminals bred - by economic inequity - faster than they can be put away, deflecting attention from the huge thefts of national resources carried out within the law by men in executive offices.”
Source: A People’s History of the United States: 1492 - Present
“How slender is the accommodation which nature has provided for man.”
Source: Edgar Huntly, or, Memoirs of a Sleepwalker
“How slight a chance may raise or sink a soul!”
Source: Festus: a poem
“How slight and insignificant is the thing which casts down or restores a mind greedy for praise.”
“How slow
This old moon wanes! she lingers my desires,
Like to a stepdame, or a dowager,
Long withering out a young man's revenue.”
Source: A Midsummer Night's Dream: Arden Performance Editions
“How slow and still the time did drag along.”
“How slow life is, how violent hope is.”
Source: Selected Poems: with parallel French text
“How slow the shadow creeps: but when 'tis past How fast the shadows fall. How fast! How fast!”
Source: The Verse of Hilaire Belloc
“How slowly one comes to understand anything!”
Source: At Seventy: A Journal
“How small a part of time they share, That are so wondrous sweet and fair!”
Source: The Poetical Works of Edmund Waller: Collated with the Best Editions
“How small a portion of our life it is that we really enjoy! In youth we are looking forward to things that are to come; in old age we are looking backward to things that are gone past; in manhood, although we appear indeed to be more occupied in things that are present, yet even that is too often absorbed in vague determinations to be vastly happy on some future day when we have time.”
Source: Lacon: Or, Many Things in Few Words, Addressed to Those who Think
“How small a thought it takes to fill a life.”
“How small and neat and comically serious the other men looked, with their grey-flecked crew cuts and their button-down collars and their brisk little hurrying feet! There were endless desperate swarms of them, hurrying through the station and the streets, and an hour from now they would all be still. The waiting mid-town office buildings would swallow them up and contain them, so that to stand in one tower looking out across the canyon to another would be to inspect a great silent insectarium displaying hundreds of tiny pink men in white shirts, forever shifting papers and frowning into telephones, acting out their passionate little dumb show under the supreme indifference of the rolling spring clouds.”
Source: Revolutionary Road
“How small life is here and how big nothingness. The sky, tired of light, has given everything to the snow. The two trees bow their heads to each other. Clouds cross the world’s silence in a circle dance”
“How small of all that human hearts endure, That part which laws or kings can cause or cure! Still to ourselves in every place consigned, Our own felicity we make or find. With secret course, which no loud storms annoy, Glides the smooth current of domestic joy.”
“How small of all that human hearts endure/That part which laws or kings can cause or cure.”
“How small regard is had to the oath of God by men professing the name of God.”
Source: The Presbyterian's Armoury: and II. The works of Mr. George Gillespie, with memoir of his life and writings
“How small the cosmos (a kangaroo's pouch would hold it), how paltry and puny in comparison to human consciousness, to a single individual recollection, and its expression in words!”
Source: Speak, Memory: An Autobiography Revisited
“How small the vastest of human catastrophes may seem, at a distance of a few million miles.”
Source: The Door in the Wall: H. G. Wells Collections
“How small these rescued tides appear! Earthly delights flow in torrents. Each object offers paradise.”
“How small we humans are. All our scrambling around, trying to buttress ourselves against death. All our efforts to insulate ourselves against uncertainty with codes of behavior and meaningless busyness.”
Source: Loving Frank (Random House Reader's Circle Deluxe Reading Group Edition): A Novel
“How smart does a chimpanzee have to be before killing him constitutes murder?”
“How smart, organized and focused one is depends on their ability to value time.”
Source: The Precious Gift of Time: Inspirational Quotes and Sayings
“How smartly September comes in, like a racing gig, all style, no confusion.”
Source: Eyes, etc: a memoir
“How smooth must be the language of the whites, when they can make right look like wrong, and wrong like right.”
Source: Life of Ma-Ka-Tai-Me-She-Kia-Kiak, or Black Hawk: With an account of the late war
“How smug I was, telling Theo how hard we tried to do right by the other selves we visit. I’m so full of it. I took more than this Marguerite’s only night with the man she loved; I took away her choices.”
Source: Ten Thousand Skies Above You
“How so many absurd rules of conduct, as well as so many absurd religious beliefs, have originated, we do not know; nor how it is that they have become, in all quarters of the world, so deeply impressed on the minds of men; but it is worthy of remark that a belief constantly inculcated during the early years of life, while the brain is impressionable, appears to acquire almost the nature of an instinct; and the very essence of an instinct is that it is followed independently of reason.”
Source: The Descent of Man
“How so much information is stored on this planet??”
“How so? Briefly, apart from the gospel and outside of Christ, the law is my enemy and condemns me. Why? Because God is my enemy and condemns me. But with the gospel and in Christ, united to him by faith, the law is no longer my enemy but my friend. Why? Because now God is no longer my enemy but my friend, and the law, his will—the law in its moral core, as reflective of his character and of concerns eternally inherent in his own person and so of what pleases him—is now my friendly guide for life in fellowship with God.”
“How soar sweet music is, when time is broke, and no proportion kept!”
Source: The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare
“How sociable the garden was.
We ate and talked in given light.
The children put their toys to grass
All the warm wakeful August night.”
Source: Selected Poems of Thom Gunn
“How socially inept or masochistic would you have to be to want to get involved with online dating?”
Source: In Limbo
“How soft indeed the song of butterflies eating.”
“How soft the music of those village bells, Falling at interval upon the ear In cadence sweet; now dying all away, Now pealing loud again, and louder still, Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on! With easy force it opens all the cells Where Memory slept.”
Source: The task, Table talk, and other poems: With critical observations of various authors on his genius and character, and notes, critical and illustrative
“How softly summer shuts, without the creaking of a door.”
Source: The Life and Letters of Emily Dickinson
“How solemnly pervading the calm air!
A sound of silence on the startled ear
Which dreamy poets name "the music of the sphere."
Ours is a world of words: Quiet we call
"Silence"—which is the merest word of all.”
Source: Al Aaraaf, Tamerlane and Minor Poems
“How solitude can be delicious as aloneness brings richness, glory, and the music of living. It is not the torment of loneliness but the delight of aloneness that sets a soul free...”
“How some dare scorn (as if a fabulous lie) that they should rise whom death to dust doth bind -- and like to beasts, a beastly life they lead, who naught attend save death when they are dead.”
“How some of the writers I come across get through their books without dying of boredom is beyond me.”
“How some they have died, and some they have left me, And some are taken from me; all are departed; All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.”
Source: The Works of Charles Lamb: Complete in One Volume. With a Sketch of His Life, by Sir Thomas Noon Talfourd, D.C.L.