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L Quotes

Browse famous quotes beginning with L. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.

All L Quotes

“Listening to Eddy describe his relationship with our mom seemed to indicate that what I feared would be my reality. He never talked poorly about our mother, but he was as honest and sincere as he could be. In a way, he was almost defensive of her to us – trying to help us understand what life had been like for her, so that we could comprehend the choices that she had made.”

“Listening to EDM while I worked gave me delusions of grandeur, but it kept me in a rhythm. It was the genre of my generation: the music of video games and computer effects, the music of the twenty-four-hour hustle, the music of proudly selling out. It was decadent and cheaply made, the music of ahistory, or globalization -or maybe nihilism, but fun. It made me feel like I had just railed cocaine, except happy. It made me feel like I was going somewhere. Was this what it felt like to hurtle through the world in a state of pure confidence, I wondered, pressing my fingers to my temples - was this what it was like to be a man?”

“Listening to Fournier's flowing, dignified cello, Hoshino was drawn back to his childhood. He used to go to the river every day to catch fish. Nothing to worry about back then, he reminisced. Just live each day as it came. As long as I was alive, I was something. That was just how it was. But somewhere along the line it all changed. Living turned me into nothing. Weird... People are born in order to live, right? But the longer I've lived, the more I've lost what's inside me—and ended up empty. And I bet the longer I live, the emptier, the more worthless, I'll become. Something's wrong with this picture. Life isn't supposed to turn out like this! Isn't it possible to shift direction, to change where I'm headed?”

“Listening to her, one experienced a deep uneasiness as of having avoided an urgent responsibility, like someone who, walking at night along the banks of a stream, catches a glimpse in the water of a white face or a moving limb and turns quickly away, refusing to help or to search for help. We all see the faces in the water. We smother our memory of them, even our belief in their reality, and become calm people of the world; or we can neither forget or help them. Sometimes by a trick of circumstances or dream or a hostile neighborhood of light we see our own face.”

“Listening to learn isn't about giving advice--at least not until asked--but about trying to understand exactly what someone means,how it is that someone looks at and feels about her particular situation.... Listening to learn from a daughter in adolescence, conspiring with her thoughts and feelings, keeps a mother in touch with a daughter's growing and changing self.”

“Listening to lectures on the class struggle (after I discovered that such a struggle had been going on for ages), I found that I had a great deal in common with the everyday workers. In other years I had felt that as a newspaper artist I was a member of a profession which enjoyed important privileges and in which a man might possibly rise to fame and fortune. But I saw now that everyone who did productive work of any kind was at the mercy of those who employed him. They could make or break him whenever they so willed...I was living in a world morally and spiritually diseased, and I was learning some of the reasons why.”

“Listening to Madame Michel and seeing her cry, but above all seeing how it made her feel better to be able to tell her story to me, I understood something. I understood that I was suffering because I couldn’t make anyone else around me feel better. I understood that I have a grudge against Papa, Maman and above all Colombe because I’m incapable of being useful to them, because there’s nothing I can do for them. They are already too far gone in their sickness, and I am too weak. I can see their symptoms clearly but I’m not skilled to treat them and so as a result that makes me as sick as they are, only I don’t see it. Whereas when I was holding Madame Michel’s hand I could feel how I was sick, too. And one thing is sure, no matter what: I won’t get any better by punishing the people I can’t heal.”

“Listening to music, reading literature, writing, and extended periods of personal introspection provide four prongs of the incitements available to form a conscious and subconscious designation of self. Other potential incentives that contribute to self-identity include religion and cultural events as well as painting, sculpture, dance, films, newspapers, television, Internet surfing, web sites, and online message boards.”

“Listening to my heartbeat was the only comfort I had. However, my heavy heart sinks from carrying what seems like everlasting pain. My heart is now ripped from my soul because I cannot feel the warm blood in my veins. I feel a cold front coming, and now my heart is frozen. I am cold—a cold-hearted soul. My heart no longer beats for borrowed peace because it is paralyzed from continually having to start over again. I have officially lost hope. What is hope? In my eyes, hope is a teaser. I had hoped that things will get better, but when? Hope is not for now—it is for the future. Therefore, I guess hope is saying that things will not be better today, but maybe years or decades from now. With that being said, hope is not faith. Hope is wishful thinking. Hope is always shattered by one disappointment after another.”

“Listening to my tutor tell me the story (of Khalid ibn al-Walid at the Battle of Mu'tah), I was overwhelmed with such pride in my history that I decided in that moment that I wanted to wear a headscarf, as a public marker that I belonged to this people. I wanted it to be so that before people even knew my name, the first thing that they would know about me is that I am a Muslim. I told myself that upon my return to the States, I would wear the headscarf with pride as my outward rebellion against the Islamophobia that had seized me and suffocated me for most of my life. With that decision, I inherited the entire history to which the hijab had been tied, and carried it on my head like an issue for public debate.”