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Tiger Quotes

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Tiger Quotes

“One day, as Sarita tended to the wash, Gemma played in the garden. She was a knight, you see, with a sword fashioned out of wood. Most formidable, she was, though I didn't quite know how formidable. As I sat in my study, I heard screaming from outside. I ran to see what the commotion was. Sarita called to me, wide-eyed with fear, "Oh, Mr. Doyle, look- over there!" The tiger had entered the garden and was making his way toward where our Gemma frolicked with her wooden sword. Beside me, our house servant, Raj, drew his blade so stealthily it seemed to simply appear in his hand by magic. But Sarita stayed his hand. "If you run for him with your life, you will provoke the tiger," she advised. "We must wait."... I must tell you that it was the longest moment of my life. No one dared move. No one dared draw a breath. And all the while, Gemma played on, taking no notice until the great cat was upon her. She stood and faced him. They stared at one another as if each wondered what to make of the other, as if they sensed a kindred spirit. At last, Gemma placed her sword upon the ground. "Dear tiger," she said. "You may pass if you are peaceful." The tiger looked at the sword and back at Gemma, and without a sound, it passed on, dissappearing into the jungle." ... "The tiger had gone. He did not come around a gain. But I was a man possessed. The tiger had come too close, you see. I no longer felt safe. I hired the best tracker in Bombay. We hunted for days, tracking the tiger to the mountains there. We found him taking water from a small watering hole. He looked up but he did not charge. He took no notice of us at all but continued to drink. "Sahib, let us go," the boy said. "This tiger means you no harm." He was right, of course. But we had come all that way. The gun was in my hand. The tiger was before us. I took aim and shot it dead on the spot. I sold the tiger's skin for a fortune to a man in Bombay, and he called me brave for it. But it was not courage that brought me to that; it was fear..."But you," he says, smiling with a mix of sadness and pride, "you faced the tiger and survived." ... "The time has come for me to face my tiger, to look him in the eye and see which of us survives." - Mr. Doyle”

“Sento ancora la follia scorrermi dentro, ma ancora non ho scritto le parole che avrei voluto, la tigre mi è rimasta sulla schiena. Morirò con addosso quella figlia di puttana, ma almeno le ho dato battaglia. E se fra voi c'è qualcuno che si sente abbastanza matto da voler diventare scrittore, gli consiglio va' avanti, sputa in un occhio al sole, schiaccia quei tasti, è la migliore pazzia che possa esserci, i secoli chiedono aiuto, la specie aspira spasmodicamente alla luce, e all'azzardo e alle risate. Regalateglieli. Ci sono abbastanza parole per noi tutti.”

“Rather than trying to paper over our suffering with comforting beliefs, this approach is about actually exploring directly what seems to be in the way of freedom, peace and happiness, what seems scary, dreadful and unbearable. It's one thing to believe that the tiger chasing you is only a mirage, and it's another thing entirely to actually turn around and embrace the tiger and find out for sure.”

“Zara.” He sighs. The wind bellows outside. “How can I make you understand this? I need your mom. If I don’t get her, more boys will die.” “That’s ridiculous.” “No, it’s just how it is.” I think for a second. “If that’s true, then why did Ian try to turn me?” He loses his composure. His face shifts into something worried, something almost human. “Did he kiss you?” “Almost. Betty killed him first.” He almost smiles. He pulls his hand through his hair. “Betty is fierce.” “Is that why you stay away when she’s here?” “Not even a pixie wants to tangle with a tiger.” He blows on the ember in his hand. It turns to dust. “You seem like you could handle almost anything,” I say. “This?” He smirks. “Parlor tricks.”

“If the shrike did not eat the grasshoppers, then the grasshoppers would eat all the grass, and there would be none left for the deer...and the deer are food for the tiger. Life in the jungle is a giant spiderweb; if you touch one strand, it will vibrate at the other end. We cannot separate nature into good and bad, Rita. The gods do not will it so.”

“She dove to the foot of the bed, dodging for the knife just before it sliced through her curtains. Rajah leaped up off the floor, roaring in fury as he tore toward the intruder, giving Jasmine a moment to slide off the edge of the bed. Her feet hit the carpet and she readied her fists, ill-equipped but determined to fight back. Whatever monster belonged to this shadow... she wouldn't let it take her.”

“Kwa sababu za kijiografia, Copenhagen iko mbele kwa masaa 9 (PST) kuilinganisha na Tijuana (kaskazini-magharibi mwa Meksiko) na masaa 7 (CST) kuilinganisha na Salina Cruz (kusini-magharibi mwa Meksiko). Mauaji ya Meksiko yametokea saa 4 usiku wa Jumanne, Copenhagen ikiwa saa 1 asubuhi Jumatano CET. Saa 5 usiku wa Jumanne, El Tigre anahamishwa (na ndege binafsi) kutoka katika milima ya Tijuana (alikokuwa amejificha) mpaka katika jumba la kifahari la Eduardo Chapa de Christopher (Mkurugenzi wa Usafirishaji wa Kolonia Santita) nje ya Salina Cruz – ambako Chui anafika saa 10 alfajiri na kuendesha kikao cha dharura cha Bodi ya Wakurugenzi ya Kolonia Santita.”

“Since well before the Kung's engine noise first penetrated the forest, a conversation of sorts has been unfolding in this lonesome hollow. It is not a language like Russian or Chinese but it is a language nonetheless, and it is older than the forest. The crows speak it; the dog speaks it; the tiger speaks it, and so do the men--some more fluently than others.”

“Just before the Hathaways had arrived, Captain Swansea, who had spent four years serving in India, had been regaling some of the guests with an account of a tiger hunt in Vishnupur. The tiger had stalked the spotted deer, brought it down with a pounce, and clamped the back of its neck in its jaws. Women and even a few men had grimaced and exclaimed in horror as Swansea described how the tiger had proceeded to eat the chital while it was still alive. “The vicious beast!” one of the women had gasped. But as soon as Amelia Hathaway entered the room, Cam had found himself entirely in sympathy with the tiger. There was nothing he wanted more than to bite the tender back of her neck and drag her to some private place where he could feast on her for hours.”

“It goes without saying that even those of us who are going to hell will get eternal life—if that territory really exists outside religious books and the minds of believers, that is. Having said that, given the choice, instead of being grilled until hell freezes over, the average sane human being would, needless to say, rather spend forever idling in an extremely fertile garden, next to a lamb or a chicken or a parrot, which they do not secretly want to eat, and a lion or a tiger or a crocodile, which does not secretly want to eat them.”