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M Quotes

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All M Quotes

“Marian consecration basically means giving Mary our full permission (or as such permission as we can) to complete her motherly task in us, which is to form us into other Christs. Thus, by consecrating ourselves to Mary, each of us is saying to her: Mary, I want to be a saint. I know that you also want me to be a saint and that it's your God-given mission to form me into one. So, Mary, at this moment, on this day, I freely choose to give you my full permission to do your work in me, with your Spouse, the Holy Spirit.”

“Marian, in her boy’s clothing, sat astride a fallen treetrunk near the Trysetell Tree, her eyes fixed on Robin, who stood perfectly still, waiting. He looked at her, smiling the smile Dummy had noticed before whenever he was in danger, as if he were living entirely in that moment of time without thought for the past or future, and was thoroughly enjoying himself.” “Gilbert wrapped Jehan in a cloak of Lincoln green and laid him tenderly in the Oratory, heaping the bright snow about him.”

“Marian’s eyes absolutely blaze. To meet them is to have a shock of contact as if they were electrically charged. “Now you see? You wondered what was in whale’s milk. Don’t you know now? The same thing that’s in a mushroom spore so small you need a microscope to see it, or in gophers, or poison oak, or anything else we try to pave under or grub out, or poison. There isn’t good life and bad life, there’s only life. Think of the force down there, just telling things to get born!”

“Marian was suddenly overcome by an appalling crippling panic. She was very frightened at the idea of arriving. But it was more than that. She feared the rocks and the cliffs and the grotesque dolmen and the ancient secret things. Her two companions seemed no longer reassuring but dreadfully alien and even sinister. She felt, for the first time in her life, completely isolated and in danger. She became in an instant almost faint with terror. She said, as a cry for help, ‘I’m feeling terribly nervous’. ‘I know you are,’ said Scottow. (…) Marian was appalled at the sudden quietness. But the insane panic had left her. She was frightened now in an ordinary way, sick in her stomach, shy, tongue-tied, horribly aware of the onset of a new world.”

“Marianne pensava che l’amore, per lei, era stato una delusione. Certe carezze erano meglio… Lui l’aveva presa brutalmente, con una sorta di rancore, quasi avesse voluto saccheggiarla, appagare una misteriosa vendetta, farle male con crudeltà. […] Forse era tutto finito, oppure, al contrario, cominciava appena? Non sapeva che cosa… L’avvenire?… Felicità o infelicità…”

“Marianne touches his elbow, halting him. 'You know I'll tell you something about being married five times. Or married five times and still friends with my surviving ex-husbands'. She counts them on gnarled fingers. 'That would be three'. He waits. 'It teaches you damn all about love.' Paul begins to smile, but she hasn't finished. Her grip on his arm is surprisingly strong. 'What it does teach you, Mr McCafferty, is that there's a whole lot more to life than winning.”

“Mariano the Second had been the son of a fisherman, but he'd suffered from an unfortunate tendency toward seasickness and was forced to find a respectable career that could be safely conducted on dry land. So he built boats. Mariano the Third built bigger boats. And by the time a girl from a very different type of family business arrived at their shopfront on the Mediterranean coast, Mariano the Fourth had built and patented at least half a dozen of the most advanced (and justifiably expensive) watercrafts in the world.”

“Marie Antoinette would have loved this place!" Piper Donovan stood agape, her green eyes opened wide, as she took in the magical space. Crystal chandeliers, dripping with glittering prisms, hung from the mirrored ceiling. Gilded moldings crowned the pale pink walls. Gleaming glass cases displayed vibrant fruit tarts, puffy éclairs, and powdered beignets. Exquisitely decorated cakes of all flavors and sizes rested on pedestals alongside trays of pastel meringues and luscious napoleons. Cupcakes, cookies, croissants, and cream-filled pastries dusted with sugar or drizzled with chocolate beckoned from the shelves. "It's unbelievable," she whispered. "I feel like I've walked into a jewel box---one made of confectioners' sugar but a jewel box nonetheless.”

“Marie clasped her hands together and looked vulnerable. Payne flinched. “The only time you don’t tell me something is when you think it’s dangerous, because being a fragile, sheltered noblewoman, I might faint at the thought of experiencing physical harm like a common person.” She sighed, and seemingly from nowhere, produced an enormous cast-iron frying pan easily one hundred centimeters in diameter. “And then,” she said sadly, “I have to damage one of the good pans by smacking it against your thick, common skull until you tell me—”

“Marie - Günler uzun, dünya yaşlı olduğuna göre, birinin durduğu yerde pek çok insan durabilir, birbiri arkasından. Woyzeck - Gördüm tamam mı! Gördüm diyorum sana! Marie - İnsanın iki gözü olup kör de değilse, pek çok şey görür güneş parladıkça. Woyzeck - Bu kadar büyük bir günah, gökteki melekleri bile kaçırtır günahının kokusu! Dudakların ne kadar kırmızı, Marie! Hiç yara yokmu üstünde? Günah kadar güzelsin. Marie,senin kadar güzel olabilirmi en korkunç günah? Marie - Neyin var senin delirdin mi? Woyzeck - Üşüyorsundur belki Marie? Ama nedense pek sıcaksın. Ne sıcak dudakların var. Üşüyor musun? İnsan soğudumu bir kez hiç üşümez artık. Marie - Dokunma bana Franz! (Diyerek iter.) Woyzeck - Sıcacık soluğun, sıcacık oruspu soluğu! Ama yine de dünyaları verirdim o dudakları bir daha öpmek için. Marie - Elin değeceğine elime, göğsüme bıçak saplansın daha iyi. Woyzeck - Orospu!”

“Marie, let’s suppose that two firemen go into a forest to put out a small fire. Afterwards, when they emerge and go over to a stream, the face of one is all smeared with black, while the other man’s face is completely clean. My question is this: which of the two will wash his face? That’s a silly question. The one with the dirty face of course.’ No, the one with the dirty face will look at the other man and assume that he looks like him. And, vice versa, the man with the clean face will see his colleague covered in grime and say to himself: I must be dirty too. I’d better have a wash.’ What are you trying to say?’ I’m saying that, during the time I spent in the hospital, I came to realize that I was always looking for myself in the women I loved. I looked at their lovely, clean faces and saw myself reflected in them. They, on the other hand, looked at me and saw the dirt on my face and, however intelligent or self-confident they were, they ended up seeing themselves reflected in me thinking that they were worse than they were. Please, don’t let that happen to you.”

“MARIE-LOUISE. […] J’ai lu dans le Sélection, l’aut’jour, qu’une famille c’est comme une cellule vivante, que chaque membre de la famille doit contribuer à la vie de la cellule… Cellule mon cul… Ah! Oui, pour être une cellule, c’est une cellule, mais pas de c’te sorte-là! Nous autres, quand on se marie, c’est pour être tu-seuls ensemble. Toé [Léopold], t’es tu-seule, ton mari à côté de toé est tu-seul, pis tes enfants sont tu-seuls de leur bord… Pis tout le monde se regarder comme chien et chat… Une gang de tu-seuls ensemble, c’est ça qu’on est!”

“Marie no podía hablarle a Joseph pues no conocía ninguna palabra que él conociera, y Joseph no decía nada que ella pudiera entender, y Marie se fue entonces a la cama y se acostó y Joseph se quedó quieto dándole la espalda y era como uno de esos hombres morenos de este pueblo lejano como la luna, y la tierra real estaba en alguna otra parte a la que no podía llegarse sino por una escalera de estrellas.”

“Mariez-vous, mon ami, vous ne savez pas ce que c’est que de vivre seul, à mon âge. La solitude, aujourd’hui, m’emplit d’une angoisse horrible : la solitude dans le logis, auprès du feu, le soir. Il me semble alors que je suis seul sur la terre, affreusement seul, mais entouré de dangers vagues, de choses inconnues et terribles ; et la cloison qui me sépare de mon voisin que je ne connais pas, m’éloigne de lui autant que des étoiles aperçues par ma fenêtre. Une sorte de fièvre m’envahit, une fièvre de douleur et de crainte, et le silence des murs m’épouvante. Il est si profond et si triste, le silence de la chambre où l’on vit seul. Ce n’est pas seulement un silence autour du corps, mais un silence autour de l’âme, et, quand un meuble craque, on tressaille jusqu’au cœur, car aucun bruit n’est attendu dans ce morne logis.”