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Short Stories Quotes

Browse 262 quotes about Short Stories.

Short Stories Quotes

“Later, you told me what your mother had said. How your father, the farmer, rose up slowly. You told me how your mother wailed on the other end of the phone, grieving her loss and complaining about the basketball of a goitre perched on her shoulder. She told you, your father walked onto the veranda and saw a chook floating ten feet above the ground. The chook didn’t flap a feather and just sat there brooding, swaying in the breeze.”

HopeLiteratureLossGriefCompanySupportParentsVulnerabilityRisingProseBelongingDesiresShort StoriesSingapore LiteratureIreadbooksactuallyLongingsBooksactuallySglitftwJon GreshamRose UpWe Rose Up Slowly
Book:We Rose Up Slowly
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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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“At that moment there opened a golden room holding all that had been and ever would be, every scene in the multiverse, every outcome, all fixed as in amber and ever awaiting choice. Their corporal selves but pale remnants on the recliners, Karger and Myla stood in this room of gold, eyeing each other. Possibilities lay before them, unending. Karger reached out his hand.”

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Book:What Awaits?
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“It seemed as though he would never pull free, until he awoke one morning feeling kind of awkward, as though his hands had been lopped off by some Arabian sword during a routine druggie blackout, and in their place, pale and membranous hands that had been fit to his wrists by aliens that took him up while he slept and then brought him back down – all of it in an effort to help him move up to where he belonged in society.”

PoliticsFictionHumourHorrorScience FictionParanormalSci FiLiterary FictionShort Stories
Book:The Odd and The Strange: A Collection of Very Short Fiction
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“When they reached their ship, Ed gazed out at the bay. It was black. The sky was black, but the bay was even blacker. It was a slick, oily blackness that glowed and reflected the moonlight like a black jewel. Ed saw the tiny specks of light around the edges of the bay where he knew ships must be docked, and at different points within the bay where vessels would be anchored. The lights were pale and sickly yellow when compared with the bright blue-white sparkle of the stars overhead, but the stars glinted hard as diamonds, cold as ice. Pg. 26.”

LoveStoriesSexAdventureRacismShipsSexismUnrequited LoveNavySegregationCubaProstitutionOld DaysHomophobiaShort StoriesRite Of PassageHavanaSavannahShort Story Collection1950sHigh SeasDeep SouthPolitical IntrigueAdolescent Angst
Book:Once upon a Decade: Tales of the Fifties
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“Never forget,' says Sugar Daddy, 'we are a nation built on sugar. It is our history and it is the source of our prosperity, now and in the future.' This is true. Our entire nation sits on reclaimed land made from sugar. Ours is an island that rose out of the sea, built on a hard core of toffee.”

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Book:Capital Misfits
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“Out of all those hundreds of billions, don't you think there'll be people who are just like you?' 'What are you talking about now? Reincarnation?' 'No. Statistics. There can be no 'reincarnation' - there are no souls to be reborn. But eventually - by pure chance - someone will come along who'll embody everything that defines you.”

ChanceScience FictionBillionsStatisticsReincarnationSoulsShort StoriesAxiomaticGreg EganThe Walk
Book:Axiomatic
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“It occurs to me that in the year Shunkin's picture was taken—when she was thirty-six—Sasuke himself became blind; the last time he saw her she must have looked rather like this. Was the picture of her which he carried in his memory in old age as faded as this photograph? Or did his imagination make up for a gradually failing memory? Did he create an image of another lovely woman, of one altogether different from the woman in the photograph?”

Short StoriesJapanese LiteratureHoward HibbettProse ArtSeven Japanese Tales
Author:Junichirô Tanizaki
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