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O Quotes

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All O Quotes

“On that, I pushed, shoved, desperate to get to a place where I could completely fade away and do it alone. Having been given too much too soon and paying the price by having it ripped away so that was all I’d ever have. Nothing. All I’d ever be. Alone. With all that, I made my final dash through the flames, making my way through the bar, out, and I ran to my car on my high heels. Destined to fade away. Ready to fade away. Needing nothing but to leave it all far behind.”

“On that momentous day of my first return to my grandfather’s place in Ojoto after many years of my sojourn in America, I was lost in my thought until a light wind blew across the pedestrian path in a wooded area where I stood, caressing the trees’ leaves and small branches. The stubborn leaves swerved in all directions like untrained dancers learning to strut after consuming palm-wine from large calabash jugs. Looking up, I watched weakened leaves snapped off and gained their freedom from primordial trees. A liberation dance followed in the dense air above me before the leaves set down. Listening to beautiful sounds made by birds converging around me, as if they were singing for the newly liberated leaves, I found myself lost in the wonderment of nature. What I experienced had drawn me back to that exhilarating place for mental respite each time I returned home.”

“On that night I was left with only the truth that nothing of our personality survives after death, that in the end all that was Misha Vainberg would evaporate along with the styles and delusions of his epoch, leaving behind not one flutter of his sad heavy brilliance, not one damp spot around which his successors could congregate to appreciate his life and times.”

“On that rainy morning, something inside Naso cracked open. He started talking—in vivid detail, sometimes in fragments, sometimes out of order. . . . The portraits of his victims emerged slowly, one by one. And what they revealed will haunt me forever.”

“On that September Sunday, when the excited Paul went to meet Rimbaud, the worst began. Young Rimbaud, that great talent, that poetic genius whom all of Paris supposedly awaited, must have missed Paul at the train station because he arrived alone. To our astonishment, maman and I did not see any genius but rather an uncouth and unkempt boy in shabby, dirty attire, who spoke strangely with an Ardennes accent, if he spoke at all, for he hardly said anything. He had no luggage, which raised suspicion with my mother. A person without luggage was not to be trusted. But he had beautiful blue eyes that looked shy, or so I thought at the time. Meanwhile, those innocent eyes gazed at the world cunningly and maliciously, as it would soon become apparent. Behind that childlike, pretty face of a doll hid a corrupted monster that shattered our family happiness.”

“On that very night, the night of the greatest suffering that has ever taken place in the world or that ever will take place, the Savior said, "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you... Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." (John 14:27) I submit to you, that may be one of the Savior's commandments that is, even in the hearts of otherwise faithful Latter-day Saints, almost universally disobeyed; and yet I wonder whether our resistance to this invitation could be any more grievous to the Lord's merciful heart.”

“On that walk around the building, two sets of cops coming out stopped to tell our guys to hustle us inside so they could head back out on the road. Accidents everywhere. A pileup on each of two major roads. “Welcome to winter,” one said. “When fifty percent of drivers should have their licenses temporarily suspended.”

“On that winter afternoon, the two boys hurried outside right after lunch, pulling enormous sleds that seemed almost larger than themselves. As they climbed the hill, they kept dodging sleds rushing past, packed with people of all ages. Most were children and teenagers, but there were also young adults and even respectable grown villagers. Sometimes grandparents came too, ‘to remember the old days.’ They rode together with their children or grandchildren, letting the younger ones steer. And after reaching the bottom – or tumbling halfway down – the ‘veterans’ laughed, shouted, and squealed with joy no less than the children. — Volodymyr Shablia, Stone. Book Two Context note: A happy moment of childhood joy and community life in a rural Ukrainian village – a reminder that even under repression, warmth and memory endured.”

“On the 1st of August, 1774, I endeavoured to extract air from mercurius calcinates per se [mercury oxide]; and I presently found that, by means of this lens, air was expelled from it very readily. … I admitted water to it [the extracted air], and found that it was not imbibed by it. But what surprized me more than I can well express, was, that a candle burned in this air with a remarkably vigorous flame… I was utterly at a loss how to account for it.”

“On the 30th of September we dined together at the Mitre. I attempted to argue for the superiour happiness of the savage life, upon the usual fanciful topicks. JOHNSON. "Sir, there can be nothing more false. The savages have no bodily advantages beyond those of civilised men. They have not better health; and as to care or mental uneasiness, they are not above it, but below it, like bears. No, Sir; you are not to talk such paradox: let me have no more of't. It cannot entertain, far less can it instruct. Lord Monboddo, one of your Scotch Judges, talked a great deal of such nonsense. I suffered him; but I will not suffer you."—BOSWELL. "But, Sir, does not Rousseau talk such nonsense?" JOHNSON. "True, Sir; but Rousseau knows he is talking nonsense, and laughs at the world for staring at him." BOSWELL. "How so, Sir?" JOHNSON. "Why, Sir, a man who talks nonsense so well, must know that he is talking nonsense.”

“On the 31st of October 2011 year, I had a mini-stroke. I couldn't finish my sentences. So I went to the doctor. It was a tiny one. The speech came back in a month or so. I did notice I could draw even better, I felt. I was concentrating more. And I wasn't talking much, but I was drawing. I said, "Well, I don't have to talk much."”

“On the 5th of October, in pouring rain, some 6,000 working women, fishwives, cleaners, marketstall holders, and prostitutes, marched on Versailles. Their ostensible reason was a rumor that at a welcome banquet given for the Flanders Regiment, newly arrived at the palace, the tricolor cockade had been trampled underfoot (...) armed with scythes, pikes, and any other weapons they could lay their hands on, they marched straight to the National Assembly, shouting their slogans and screaming for bread (...) In the early hours of the next day, the king and queen were awakened by furious shouts of, "mort à la femme Autrichienne", death to the Austrian woman.”

“On the acquisition of Louisiana, in the year 1803, the attention of the government of the United States, was early directed towards exploring and improving the new territory.”

“On the air, it's as if somebody draws a heavy drape to block any bias. I don't even feel it inside. It's the same curtain that keeps you from swearing. I've known broadcasters who can't get one sentence out in normal conversation without being profane, and yet, they can go on the air and talk for three hours and never slip once.”

“On the altar you are looking at the same thing as you saw there last night. You have not heard, however, what this is, what it signifies, or about the greatness of the reality of which it is a sacrament. Your eyes are looking at bread and cup. This is the evidence before your physical sight. But your faith must be instructed concerning it- this bread being Christ 's Body and the cup containing His Blood. Though perhaps these words may be enough to initiate faith, faith must be further instructed in accordance with the Prophet's words: 'Believe that you may understand'”