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M Quotes

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All M Quotes

“My paintings are inspirational for they allow the observer to experience infinite viewpoints and perceptions. They are not abstract for they represent what is actually more real than what our eyes are able to see. They allow the viewers to be inspired by taking their own perception beyond their senses and their surroundings.”

“My paintings are well-painted, not nimbly but patiently. My painting contains in it the message of pain. I think that at least a few people are interested in it. It’s not revolutionary. Why keep wishing for it to be belligerent? I can’t. Painting completed my life. I lost three children and a series of other things that would have fulfilled my horrible life. My painting took the place of all this. I think work is the best.”

“My paintings are well-painted, not nimbly but patiently. My painting contains in it the message of pain. I think that at least a few people are interested in it. It's not revolutionary. Why keep wishing for it to be belligerent? I can't. Painting completed my life. I lost three children and a series of other things that would have fulfilled my horrible life. My painting took the place of all of this. I think work is the best.”

“My palm connected with the final looking-glass. A wave of brittle fractures rippled outward from the place my sanguine hand had struck. It shattered. I watched the pieces of my former life--the reflection of this monster I'd become—fall about my feet in a hailstorm of blood, tears, and broken mirrors. My attrition was complete. And now dissension boiled in my veins. I would find my penance. Even if God could not forgive me, even if she could not forgive me...maybe I could at least find the power to forgive myself.”

“My palm is smeared with gold. When I look at him, I see the remaining powder has been smudged over his cheekbones by the strike of my hand. I cant stop staring at it, cant stop thinking about the way he looked at me when he caught my fingers. That´s the only excuse I have for not noticing that hes led me back to his rooms, which are, I suppose, also mine since we´re married. Page 163”

“My palm presses against his cool cheek as I stare intently at him, willing him to understand, “I couldn’t have forgiven myself, couldn’t have gone on knowing I’d let you suffer when it was in my power to take that pain away.” I pause to smile sadly at him, “Anyway, it’s done now.” He shakes his head in one last denial but there’s nothing he can do. Crimson tears fill his eyes again as he whispers softly, “Kiss me?”

“My Papa's Waltz: The whiskey on your breath Could make a small boy dizzy; But I hung on like death: Such waltzing was not easy. We romped until the pans Slid from the kitchen shelf; My mother's countenance Could not unfrown itself. The hand that held my wrist Was battered on one knuckle; At every step you missed My right ear scraped a buckle. You beat time on my head With a palm caked hard by dirt, Then waltzed me off to bed Still clinging to your shirt.”

“My paramount object in this struggle is to save the Union, and is not either to save or to destroy slavery. If I could save the Union without freeing any slave I would do it, and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves I would do it; and if I could save it by freeing some and leaving others alone I would also do that. What I do about slavery, and the colored race, I do because I believe it helps to save the Union; and what I forbear, I forbear because I do not believe it would help to save the Union.”