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All I Quotes

“I, having my previous impressions of awe deepened by these solemn trophies of chance and change amongst mighty nations, had suddenly been surprised by a dream, as profound as at present, in which a thought that often had persecuted me figured triumphantly. This thought turned upon the fatality that must often attend an evil choice. As an oracle of fear I remembered that great Roman warning, Nessit vox missa reverti (that a word once uttered is irrevocable), a freezing arrest upon the motions of hope too sanguine that haunted me in many shapes. Long before that fifteenth year of mine, I had noticed, as a worm lying at the heart of life and fleeting its security, the fact that innumerable acts of choice change countenance and are variously appraised at varying stage of life - shift with the shifting hours. Already at fifteen, I had become deeply ashamed of judgements which I had once pronounced, of idle hopes that I had once encouraged, false admirations or contempts with which once I had sympathized. And, as to the acts which I surveyed with any doubts at all, i never felt sure that after some succession of years I might not feel withering doubts about them, both as to principle and as to inevitable results.”

“I,” he said, a faint note of derision in his voice, “am the least favored scion of our ruling house, House Mara Sant.” He was from Brontes, then. Which might explain the eyes…she thought again of certain differences, and suppressed a shudder. “I am a Prince of the Blood,” he continued, sounding both embittered and proud, “third in line for the Dragon Throne, and grand nephew to the Emperor. Owing to a…political dispute, I am now also an exile. Presented with a choice between resigning my commission in the na-vy and leaving to become governor of a mining planet and staying to face my uncle’s as-sassins….” He shrugged slightly, as if the choice were of no consequence. “A…political dispute?” “I gambled,” he said bluntly. “I lost.” “You seem…sanguine,” she remarked, surprise blunting the instinct to guard her tongue. “He shouldn’t have let me live.” That anyone could discuss their own murder with such cold calculation horrified her. He horrified her. She chewed her lip, digesting all that he’d told her: not merely a naval officer, but a prince—and a maverick one at that. She wondered what he could have done. “So you see,” he finished, “I’m no more free than you.” He laughed, then, but without humor. “We can be prisoners together. I am en route to a wretched planet called Tarsonis to assume governorship and as you have no other, more pressing engagement, you are coming with me.”

“I head back to my apartment, but not before popping into a small creperie for a Nutella, banana, and coconut crepe because, let's be honest, I'm only human. The shop sits a few doors down from Peregrine Espresso, and even though I spend most days surrounded by flaky croissants and fudge brownies, God help me, I still cannot resist the siren song of a sweet Nutella crepe. I order it to go, but I dive in before I even leave the store because Nutella is my kryptonite. The rich chocolate hazelnut spread oozes from within the sweet eggy crepe, each bite filled with fresh bananas and bits of toasted coconut.”

“I head in the direction of the Eiffel Tower when I exit the alley, relieved to be out of the dark.”

“I headed for my office, but stopped when I saw my laptop on the couch. Sorrel had obviously borrowed it—again—without permission. I grabbed it, wondering what questionable site he’d left on the screen this time and making a mental note to run the anti-virus software. After taking a shower, putting on my pajamas, and fixing an ice cream sundae for dinner—yes, it was one of those days—I sat down at my desk and pulled up the web browser.”

“I headed into the kitchen, a little bit zombie-like. I didn't know what I was going to cook, and I certainly wasn't hungry, but I pulled out a bowl and pie pan and a whisk, and then instinctively opened the refrigerator and grabbed eggs and cream, as well as some of the bacon and Gruyère that had been set aside for Lacey's Mornay sauce and hot brown. I fumbled around the kitchen, grabbing everything else I needed to make a quick, easy quiche, although there was a part of me that thought it was the perfect time to tackle turducken or some equally arduous and ridiculous recipe that I'd always thought would be fun to have in my repertoire.”

“I hear a choir, far enough away for me not to hear it when it goes soft. It is a song I know, I don't know how, and when it fades, and when it dies quite away, it goes on inside me, but too slow, or too fast, for when it comes on the air to me again it is not together with mine, but behind, or ahead. It is a mixed choir, or I am greatly deceived. With children too perhaps. I have the absurd feeling it is conducted by a woman. It has been singing the same song for a long time now. They must be rehearsing. It belongs already to the long past, it has uttered for the last time the triumphal cry on which it ends.”

“I hear a lot of black dudes call each other niggers or nigga. Why? Then we as blacks are upset when another race calls us the ‘N’ word. Do we really have the right to be upset? No, we do not because we can’t expect other races not to call us the ‘N’ word if we call each other the ‘N’ word. So I say once again, and I cannot say this enough. We should respect ourselves and each other. We should be ashamed to use the word … the nickname if you will … that white people made up for us. It is not okay for a black person to use the word Nigger or Nigga so loosely!”

“I hear a phone ringing through the thick fuzzy air. It's Thunders, asking me to join the Heartbreakers. He says to come over to the rehearsal studios right now. I’m scared but I go anyway. That should be written on my gravestone. She was scared. But she went anyway.”

“I hear a swelling swoosh; from the south a bullet train whizzes into view on the tracks, knives through the landscape in a matter of moments, then disappears with a whoosh. It has just covered in a few seconds what has taken me hours to walk. That very fast train reminds me that, as a pilgrim, travel is made holy in its slowness. I see things that neither the passengers of the train nor the drivers of the automobiles see. I feel things that they will never feel. I have time to ponder, imagine, daydream. I tire. I thirst. In my slow walking, I find me.”

“I hear actresses talking about this all the time - this idea that you sit in meetings and the studio says, "Well, you can't do that because the audience won't like that. They won't root for you. It's not sympathetic." I think that we've been served this one dish for so long that we believe that it's all that audiences want, but when we test them or throw something out there that has some truth to it, they seem to always respond.”

“I hear all of these liberals so concerned with people's health and so critical of tobacco cause it kills, it's deadly, and secondhand and third, and they've created a bunch of insane people out there. I'm telling you, liberalism has created literally deranged people afraid of everything. I mean it makes no sense to be afraid of secondhand smoke a hundred yards away from it. They have created this. They have created this inordinate fear of ordinary, everyday life.”

“I hear all the time that 'unemployment is greatly reduced, but the people aren't feeling it.' When the media, talking heads, the White House and Wall Street start reporting the truth - the percent of Americans in good jobs; jobs that are full time and real - then we will quit wondering why Americans aren't 'feeling' something that doesn't remotely reflect the reality in their lives. And we will also quit wondering what hollowed out the middle class.”