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Literary Fiction Quotes

Browse 431 quotes about Literary Fiction.

Literary Fiction Quotes

“This week I’ve been reflecting on a passage from my novel, The Time In Between: ‘Dreams don’t carry over calendars. They don’t leave behind the scent of sandalwood or the sound of applause echoing in the back of your mind. They don’t make you wake up wondering if you’ve left a version of yourself behind in another life.’ Have you ever had a dream that felt too real — like it belonged to another version of you? I’d love to hear your thoughts.”

ReadingFictionNovelStorytellingDiscussionCreative WritingLiterary FictionBook LoversAuthor LifeBook Excerpt
Book:The Time in Between
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“Haady talte for, at vi skulle prøve os frem med at snige os ind i en lejr, når vi fandt en. Hvad kunne gå galt? Hvis de opdagede os, var vi hverken bedre eller værre stillede, end hvis vi meldte os selv ved porten. Det ville ikke gøre en forskel. Jeg var i tvivl. Jeg tænkte på deres våben. På pigtråden. ”Vi er jo ikke i Yemen,” sagde Haady med et smil. ”I Danmark skyder man ikke folk. Her taler man bare. De snakker og snakker alle sammen hele tiden.” Han havde vel ret på et eller andet plan, men havde tingene ændret sig med virussen? Familiefaren, der blev slået og skubbet, men jo, han var jo ikke blevet skudt. De havde ikke skudt nogen nede på gaden. Jeg nikkede, spiste det sidste fra min skål og begyndte at vaske den med vand fra en flaske. I dag skulle vi til Ringkøbing. Der var ikke langt herfra. Vi kunne godt være kørt dertil i går aftes, men Haady ville ikke ankomme om aftenen, hvor hans bedstemor måske ville blive bange. Det var bedre at ankomme i dagslys om morgenen, når hun var frisk.”

NovelHumanity And SocietyModern WorldLiterary FictionDystopian Fiction
Book:Vi var så blidt i verden
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“Han sank. Hans tætklippede skæg var fyldt med tårer, der reflekterede solskinnet. ”Det hele startede, før du så det i nyhederne,” sagde han, selvom jeg allerede havde regnet den del ud. ”Da de viste manden ved grænsen, og alle troede, det var starten, havde vi allerede adskillelige tusinde døde, og evakueringen var startet. Alting foregår altid under overfladen, du ved, som et isbjerg. I den sidste besked sagde Sara, at de havde mødt Ester, vores nabo, på vej hjem fra Netto. At hun havde virket dårlig, svedende og rystende. Hun havde aet Erik på kinden, som hun plejede, og Sara havde ikke nået at stoppe hende. Så var hun gået ind for at lægge sig, Ester, som hun sagde, og Sara havde skyndt sig ind med Erik og sprittet hans ansigt og hænder. Tre og fyrre minutter senere ringede hun til mig på hospitalet. Tre og fyrre minutter, Amanda.” Jeg græd også nu. Det var ikke mine tab, men jeg græd for alle og alting.”

NovelHumanity And SocietyLiterary FictionDystopian Fiction
Book:Vi var så blidt i verden
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“In the temple, I sit on the cool floor next to Grandfather, beneath the stern benevolence of the goddess's glance. Grandfather is clad in only a traditional silk dhoti--no fancy modern clothes for him. That's one of the things I admire about him, how he is always unapologetically, uncompromisingly himself. His spine is erect and impatient; white hairs blaze across his chest.”

NovelMysteryIndiaSuspenseFamily RelationshipsLiterary Fiction
Book:Oleander Girl
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“The woman walked into the bar for the first time in the winter rain. She didn’t have an umbrella on her; her little sleeveless dress ended at her ankles, fully drenched. Her wet dress clung to her body, showing the outlines of her curves. In one hand, she was carrying the skirt of her dress. Suddenly, she let it go, and one long, bare arm moved upward as she tried to fix her damp hair which had darkened in intensity due to the rain. It fell past her shoulders, the strands sticking to her face. She attempted to comb through the tangles with her fingertips. The men watched her movements hungrily, their eager faces drawn to her and at the sight of someone new. Their eyes trailed from her face, to her wet body, then back to the movements of her hands entwined in her hair. Under her other arm, she carried a book and a trench coat. It appeared strange she wasn't wearing the coat when it was pouring outside and freezing in the middle of November. Men were left mesmerized by her, and she turned heads as she walked by. Something radiated from within her, drawing the men around her in. The women who were with some of these men noticed their gaze on the unfamiliar woman. Now they stared at her with jealousy and anger. Who is she? they wondered.”

RomanceLossGriefLove StoryLiterary Fiction
Book:The Name of Red
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“A HOTEL ROOM IN PARIS #31 At the bottom of the lonely window,
The sky looks almost velvety lilac. While at the top, the window frame
Seems to drown in front of an ocean of blue satin. White window frames in uneven walls
Cast no shadow, so the light projects the soul of each traveller instead. So I sit here in silence, filtering out the noise
That the boulevards inhabit and sing each day. Only the music I keep in my room, the silent solitude each one carries;
Carries far and – may I hope – home soon.”

PoetrySolitudeParisLiterary FictionRomanticismDark AcademiaContemporary PoetryMelancholic PoetryEthereal SolitudeTravel Poetry
Book:The Willow Song
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“You think your life is unfurling in a certain way, and you let yourself grow happy about it, a smile rising at the slightest thing. A boy in short pants eating a pastelito makes you grin like a lunatic at the vision of your own hoped‐for children, their dark shiny heads rising, year by year, from the Cuban earth, your wife towering behind them, kind and wise. Then you find yourself in a midnight cemetery guarding your mustache from the covetous ghost of an American woman you once loved. Who wouldn’t laugh?”

UniqueGhostsHauntingLiterary FictionSurrealCubaMagical RealismCemeterySpeculative FictionCollection
Book:The Only Sound Is the Wind: Stories
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“That childhood adventure would not soon slip away. It quickened an understanding that he and I shared whenever we were side by side, either on the water or at the fireplace. Not exactly a secret, it was simply an experience that had little meaning for most others. Yet, for us it was invaluable. Recalling it made the more trying moments of life in the city much easier to endure.”

FictionNostalgiaComing Of AgeLiterary Fiction
Book:Providence Point
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“My Aspasia. With her, he’d discovered the sweetness in life . . . and she might like to know that. He’d tell her sometime. But he knew he’d given this lovely woman what she’d wanted most, their son’s name. He leaned over to the child. “So, you’re Little Pericles.”

ActionPoliticsFictionDramaFutureExplorationPresentLiterary FictionPage Turner
Book:Pericles and Aspasia: A Story of Ancient Greece
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“Once inside my skull, my doctor added some salt, just to taste.  He also poured some fruit into my skull – an apple, a pear, a few seedless grapes, and a ripe banana.  He then used an electric blender set on its highest speed to create what he had termed ‘a yogurt parfait.’  After he finished blending the ingredients, he beckoned the other doctors and a few of the nurses to sample his new concoction.”

ActionFictionDramaLiterary FictionShort StoriesAdultComplexLiterary Short Stories
Book:The Odd and The Strange: A Collection of Very Short Fiction
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