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L Quotes

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All L Quotes

“Locked up inside her was an uncomfortable amount of unhappiness, perhaps even horror, if of a sadly conventional kind, and the only way she could deal with it was by pretending it never existed - so much pretending women like my grandmother had to do. The urge in her to be respectable and above reproach was so strong, and the rules of that respectability so rigid, that it overrode all other desires.”

“LOCKING HORNS Some are afraid to try new things, To take a simple risk, Limiting what they might accomplish, Limiting what they might wish. I'm not afraid to try new things, To take a little risk, For I believe that we've only moments, To do the things we wish. Some feel they have the time, To do the things they want. Some think their dreams not valid- Others feel their paths unjust. I believe that we should live our dreams, To bring them to our lives, For they are the intended paths, The juices of our lives. I believe that we should strive to do, In order that we might- Learn how to enjoy ourselves more fully, And everyone in sight.”

“Lockwood didn’t speak until everything was quiet again. “I know you’re worrying about me, Luce,” he said. “But you really mustn’t. These things happen when you’re an agent. You’ve been snared by ghosts in the past, haven’t you? There was the one that made the bloody footprints, and the thing in the tunnels below the Aickmere Brothers store. But it’s fine, because I helped you then, and you’ve helped me now. We’re there to help each other. If we do that, we’ll get through.” Which was a lovely thing to say, and it made me feel a little warmer. I just had to hope it was true.”

“Loco, No Irresponsable (El Soneto) Estoy loco, Pero no indifferente. Estoy libre, Pero no irresponsable. Puedo ser ignorante, Pero no intolerante. No sé la etiqueta, Pero sé cómo amarte. Soy un amante, No un erudito. Soy un guerrero, No un filósofo. Vivir para la gente, Es la misión de mi mente.”

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“Lodged inside the feckless heart of human beings is a mild mannered actor whom possesses the exquisite desire to create beauty and build lasting testaments to valor. Also locked up within us is a hard-bitten stranger whom harbors a vindictive thirst to wreak, plunder, and mutilate. The strife between its benevolent and militaristic intellects creates the queer suet that fuels humankind’s impiety. An uneasy, multivariate accord prevails as the arbitrator governing the tallow of human souls. We maintain our precarious crackle barrel coexistence through the doctrine of free will, an ethical hinge dependent upon our loose-lipped ability fastidiously to decide right from wrong. We can employ free will to submit to the tragedy of fate, resign oneself to loss and iniquity. Alternatively, we can employ free will to diagnose sin and seek atonement for our crimes. How we purposefully resolve the noble conspiracy of being determines the orientation of our metabolic life.”

“Loftus learned for herself how realistic false memories can seem when she had an upsetting experience several years ago. She was shocked when, at a family gathering, an uncle informed her that thirty years earlier, when her mother drowned in a pool, she had been the one who discovered the body. Loftus, who was fourteen when the drowning occurred, always believed that she had never seen her mother's dead body. Indeed, she remembered little about the death itself. She recounts what happened the next in her book 'The Myth of Repressed Memory'. Almost immediately after her uncle's revelation, 'the memories began to drift back, like the crisp, piney smoke from evening camp fires. My mother, dressed in her nightgown, was floating face down. . . . I started screaming. I remembered the police cars, their lights flashing'. A few days later, she writes, 'my brother called to tell me that my uncle had made a mistake. Now he remembered (and other relatives confirmed) that Aunt Pearl had found my mother's body.' This shocked Loftus even more than her uncle's false revelation. If someone so specially trained as she is to recognize fallible memories could suddenly believe her own false memory, just think how readily the average person can be fooled.”

“Loftus was asked to be an expert witness because the idea of memories as formed through a manipulable process of rehearsal is important to new views of memory and her own research. In the course of her testimony, the prosecutor skeptically asked: "You really don't know anything about five-year old children who have been sexually abused do you?" At that moment a "memory flew out at me, out of the blackness of the past, hitting me full force." She answers the prosecutor, "I do know something about this subject because I was abused when I was six years old" (149). With the force of a blow, a forgotten and apparently unrehearsed memory of being abused by a baby-sitter suddenly emerges after many years, its truth uneasily opposed to the falsehood of children's "rehearsed" memories or "contaminated" memories that she produces in her laboratory to show memories are but "mist" (4). Nonetheless, in her second popular book, The Myth of Repressed Memory, she argues against the existence of "repressed" memories...”

“Logan folded his arms. His voice was granite."My word stands." "Can you love an idea more than you love a man and not become a monster? How many friends will you sacrifice on the altar of Justice, Logan?" "If you force my hand, at least one." They were standing on a precipice. Socially, Logan had always been Kylar's superior. Morally, Kylar had always felt inferior, too. But they'd never been placed in a direct hierarchical relation. Now Logan was giving an order. He would not be moved. Kylar could only accept his order and accept all his orders henceforth, or reject it and them forever. There was a part of him that yearned to obey. He was convinced that killing Terah was the right thing, but Logan's moral compass was a more accurate instrument than Kylar's. What was it about submission that was so hard? Kylar wasn't being asked for blind servility. He was being asked to obey a man he knew and loved and respected, who in turn respected him. 'The wolfhound is pampered by the fire. The wolf is hunted in the cold.' "Do you know how much I love you, Logan?" Kylar asked. Logan opened his mouth, but before he could say a word, Kylar said, "This much." And left.”

“Logan licked a glob of strawberry jelly from her lower lip and smiled up at Odin. Only one comment seemed to perfectly fit her current situation. “I see dead people.” He leaned forward, hands on his hips. “Me, too. It’s the only explanation for what’s standing in front of me. Unless some high school kids broke into the anatomy closet and stole the classroom skeleton, stretched some cadaver skin over that bitch then cast an ancient ritual to animate it.”

“Logan studied him for a moment. “What exactly is your power?” “Staying alive,” Cristiano answered. “You’d better be sure she does,” Ayden said. “Stay alive, that is, because if anything happens to her, Sicarius or not, I’m coming for you.” After a beat, Matthias added, “And he won’t be alone.” “Ahhh,” I smiled. “I knew you cared.” Matthias groaned. “Why do you ruin everything?” “Part of my charm.”