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M Quotes

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All M Quotes

“My bed to the right, where it has always been. Her bed, in another room. I did not know what to do with that empty corner where her bed should have gone. It looked foreign, the exposed strip of carpet. It looked wrong, that empty coldness squatting in the corner, laughing and pointing a clawed finger at me.”

LonelinessHeartbreakLost LoveDark RomancePsychological FictionTaboo RomanceEmptynessEmpty SpacesTwisted RomanceHole In Your Heart
Author:Max Watson
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“My bed was pushed up hard against the wall just below the window. I loved to sleep with the windows open. Rainy nights were the best of all: I would open my windows and put my head on my pillow and close my eyes and feel the wind on my face and listen to the trees sway and creak. There would be raindrops blown onto my face, too, if I was lucky, and I would imagine that I was in my boat on the ocean and that it was swaying with the swell of the sea. I did not imagine that I was a pirate, or that I was going anywhere. I was just on my boat.”

IfsFeelsHardWould BeEyeFacesNightSleepImagineTreeSeaWindWallLuckyBedOceanWindowBoatImagine ThatPillowPirateRainyRaindropsSwayingRainy Night
Author:Neil Gaiman
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“My bedroom is separated from the main body of my house so that I have to go outside and cross some pseudo-Japanese stepping stones in order to go to sleep at night. Often I get rained on a little bit on my way to bed. It’s a benediction. A good night kiss. Romantic? Absolutely. And nothing to be ashamed of. If reality is a matter of perspective, then the romantic view of the world is as valid as any other - and a great deal more rewarding. It makes of life and unpredictable adventure rather that a problematic equation. Rain is the natural element for romanticism. A dripping fir is a hundred times more sexy than a sunburnt palm tree, and more primal and contemplative, too. A steady, wind-driven rain composed music for the psyche. It not only nurtures and renews, it consecrates and sanctifies. It whispers in secret languages about the primordial essence of things. Obviously, then, the Pacific Northwest's customary climate is perfect for a writer. It's cozy and intimate. Reducing temptation (how can you possibly play on the beach or work in the yard?), it turns a person inward, connecting them with what Jung called "the bottom below the bottom," those areas of the deep unconscious into which every serious writer must spelunk. Directly above my writing desk there is a skylight. This is the window, rain-drummed and bough-brushed, through which my Muse arrives, bringing with her the rhythms and cadences of cloud and water, not to mention the latest catalog from Victoria's Secret and the twenty-three auxiliary verbs. Oddly enough, not every local author shares my proclivity for precipitation. Unaware of the poetry they're missing, many malign the mist as malevolently as they non-literary heliotropes do. They wring their damp mitts and fret about rot, cursing the prolonged spillage, claiming they're too dejected to write, that their feet itch (athlete's foot), the roof leaks, they can't stop coughing, and they feel as if they're slowly being digested by an oyster. Yet the next sunny day, though it may be weeks away, will trot out such a mountainous array of pagodas, vanilla sundaes, hero chins and god fingers; such a sunset palette of Jell-O, carrot oil, Vegas strip, and Kool-Aid; such a sea-vista display of broad waters, firred islands, whale spouts, and boat sails thicker than triangles in a geometry book, that any and all memories of dankness will fizz and implode in a blaze of bedazzled amnesia. "Paradise!" you'll hear them proclaim as they call United Van Lines to cancel their move to Arizona.”

WritingRomanceRainWeatherDistractionsPacific Northwest
Author:Tom Robbins
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“My bedroom looked very different the morning of my eighteenth birthday. It looked lonely. I opened my eyes just as the sun started creeping through the window, and I stared at the white chest of drawers that had greeted me every morning since I could remember. Maybe it’s stupid to think that a piece of furniture had feelings, but then again, I’m the same girl who kept my tattered old baby doll dressed in a sweater and knitted cap so she wouldn’t get cold sitting on the top shelf of my closet. And this morning that chest of drawers was looking sad. All the photographs and trophies and silly knickknacks that had blanketed the top and told my life story better than any words ever could were gone, packed in brown cardboard boxes and neatly stacked in the cellar. Even my pretty pink walls were bare. Mama picked that color after I was born, and I’ve never wanted to change it. Ruthis Morgan used to try to convince me that my walls should be painted some other color. ‘Pink’s just not your color, Catherine Grace. You know as well as I do that there’s not a speck of pink on the football field.’ There was nothing she could say that was going to change my mind of the color on my walls. If I had I would have lost another piece of my mama. And I wasn’t letting go of any piece of her, pink or not. Daddy insisted on replacing my tired, worn curtains a while back, but I threw such a fit that he spent a good seven weeks looking for the very same fabric, little bitsy pink flowers on a white -and-pink-checkered background. He finally found a few yards in some textile mill down in South Carolina. I told him there were a few things in life that should never be allowed to change, and my curtains were one of them. So many other things were never going to stay the same, and this morning was one of them. I’d been praying for this day for as long as I could remember, and now that it was here, all I wanted to do was crawl under my covers and pretend it was any other day. . . . I know that this would be the last morning I would wake up in this bed as a Sunday-school-going, dishwashing, tomato-watering member of this family. I knew this would be the last morning I would wake up in the same bed where I had calculated God only knows how many algebra problems, the same bed I had hid under playing hide-and-seek with Martha Ann, and the same bed I had lain on and cried myself to sleep too many nights after Mama died. I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it through the day considering I was having such a hard time just saying good-bye to my bed.”

Nostalgia
Author:Susan Gregg Gilmore
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“My being consists of matter and form, that is, of soul and body; annihilation will reach neither of them, for they were never produced out of nothing. The consequence is, that every part of me will serve to make something in the world; and this again will change into another part through an infinite succession of change. This constant method of alteration gave me my being, and my father before me, and so on to eternity backward: for I think I may speak thus, even though the world be confined within certain determinate periods.”

ThinkingWorldMaySoulMatterBodyFormCertainFatherSpeakPeriodsConsequenceEternityInfiniteMethodConstantConfinedSuccessionAnnihilationAlterationsSoul And Body
Author:Marcus Aurelius
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“My being Indian is possibly the biggest thing that influences my stories. Not just in terms of settings - most of the settings in my stories are Indian - but also in terms of characters and plot. I think growing up in India grew my imagination in certain ways that would not have happened in any other place. I'm also fascinated by the idea of India, and writing stories allows me to explore this. As for thematic elements, they are probably pretty obvious in my stories. I also hope that my stories bust stereotypes at least to a modest extent.”

ThinkingWritingCharacterTermImaginationGrowing UpInfluenceObviousModestStereotypeMy Imagination
Author:Vandana Singh
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“My being subsists only from a supreme point of view which is precisely incompatible with my point of view. The perspective in which I fade away for my eyes restores me as a complete image for the unreal eye to which I deny all images. A complete image with reference to a world devoid of image which imagines me in the absence of any imaginable figure. The being of a nonbeing of which I am the infinitely small negation which it instigates as its profound harmony. In the night shall I become the universe?”

WorldEyeNightUniverseViewsImagineFiguresPerspectiveHarmonyProfoundDenyPoint Of ViewAbsenceSupremeFadesUnrealFade AwayNegation
Author:Maurice Blanchot
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“My belief about performance capture is that it's a technology which allows actors to play extraordinary characters. But from an acting perspective, I've never drawn a distinction between playing a conventional, live action character and playing a role in a performance capture suit. And from a purely acting point-of-view, I don't believe there should be a special Oscar category because I think it sort of muddies the waters in a way.”

ThinkingBelieveCharacterActionBeliefWaterActingTechnologySpecialPerspectiveExtraordinary
Author:Andy Serkis
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“My belief in free competitive economic enterprise does not rest solely or even mainly on arguments of economic efficiency, though, heaven knows, these are cogent enough. It rests essentially on the view that the free market is the only safe way of ensuring that productive effort is directed towards supplying what individuals actually want, and in a way which secures the dignity and independence of the worker.”

KnowsWayWantDoeEnoughIndividualBeliefHeavenViewsEffortEconomicSafeArgumentDignityIndependenceWorkersEnterpriseProductiveEfficiencyFree MarketEconomic Efficiency
Author:Margaret Thatcher
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“My belief in free speech is so profound that I am seldom tempted to deny it to the other fellow. Nor do I make any effort to differentiate between the other fellow right and that other fellow wrong, for I am convinced that free speech is worth nothing unless it includes a full franchise to be foolish and even...malicious.”

BeliefEffortSpeechFellowsProfoundDenyConvincedFoolishFree SpeechTemptedDifferentiateMalicious
Author:H. L. Mencken
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“My belief in Jesus Christ is most important thing in my life. What I do to be able to father correctly is to spend time in the mornings by myself to get my heart, my soul, my mind - correct. To be able to handle the situations and handle the young men like I would my son. It's loving my players where they are, helping them to move and achieve. And when they're 30, what are they doing then? Are they a husband that stays true? Are they a father that never leaves? Are they a businessman that can be counted on in whatever they do! I think that really guides me in a better principle.”

ThinkingMenMindHeartImportantSoulHelpingMovingFatherJesusBeliefChristSituationMorningPlayerAchieveSonMy HeartHusbandJesus ChristMy SonBusinessmanEnd TimesSpend TimeStay TrueGuide Me
Author:Mike MacIntyre
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“My belief in the growth and permanence of democracy is undimmed. I know that the people will cast off the new dictatorship as they did the old. I believe as firmly as in my youth that humanity will surmount the era of poverty and war. Life will be happier and more beautiful for all. I believe in the GOLDEN AGE.”

PeopleKnowsBelieveWarAgeBeautifulHumanityBeliefI BelieveWomenGrowthPovertyDemocracyYouthCastsI Believe InGoldenErasDictatorshipPermanenceGolden Age
Author:Sylvia Pankhurst
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“my belief in the sacrament of the Eucharist is simple: without touch, God is a monologue, an idea, a philosophy; he must touch and be touched, the tongue on flesh, and that touch is the result of the monologues, the idea, the philosophies which led to faith; but in the instant of the touch there is no place for thinking, for talking; the silent touch affirms all that, and goes deeper: it affirms the mysteries of love and mortality.”

ThinkingIdeasPhilosophyBeliefSimpleResultsTalkingMysterySilentDeeperTongueFleshInstantTouchedMortalitySacramentsEucharistMonologuesMystery Of Love
Author:Andre Dubus
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“My belief is firm in a law of compensation. The true rewards are ever in proportion to the labor and sacrifices made. This is one of the reasons why I feel certain that of all my inventions, the Magnifying Transmitter will prove most important and valuable to future generations. I am prompted to this prediction not so much by thoughts of the commercial and industrial revolution which it will surely bring about, but of the humanitarian consequences of the many achievements it makes possible. Considerations of mere utility weigh little in the balance against the higher benefits of civilization.”

FeelsLittlesMadeImportantReasonLawCertainBeliefGenerationsSacrificeHard WorkRevolutionBalanceHigherCivilizationProveAchievementBenefitsConsequenceLaborMereRewardsValuableHumanitarianInventionFirmReason WhyProportionConsiderationPredictionsCompensationFuture GenerationUtilityIndustrial RevolutionMagnifying
Author:Nikola Tesla
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