QUOTEoftheDay

Tuesday
Dec042018

Robyn Schneider

Oscar Wilde once said that to live is the rarest thing in the world, because most people just exist, and that’s all. I don’t know if he’s right, but I do know that I spend a long time existing, and now, I intend to live.

And I realized that there's a big difference between deciding to leave and knowing where to go.

Life is the tragedy,' she said bitterly. 'You know how they categorize Shakespeare's plays, right? If it ends with a wedding, it's a comedy. And if it ends with a funeral, it's a tragedy. So we're all living tragedies, because we all end the same way, and it isn't with a goddamn wedding.

Words could betray you if you chose the wrong ones, or mean less if you used too many. Jokes could be grandly miscalculated, or stories deemed boring, and I'd learned early on that my sense of humor and ideas about what sorts of things were fascinating didn't exactly overlap with my friends'.

If everything really does get better, the way everyone claims, then happiness should be graphable. But that's crap, because better isn't quantifiable.

I wondered what things what things became when you no longer needed them, and I wondered what the future would hold once we'd gotten past our personal tragedies and proven them ultimately survivable.


Monday
Dec032018

Muriel Barbery

I thought: pity the poor in spirit who know neither the enchantment nor the beauty of language.

When tea becomes ritual, it takes its place at the heart of our ability to see greatness in small things. Where is beauty to be found? In great things that, like everything else, are doomed to die, or in small things that aspire to nothing, yet know how to set a jewel of infinity in a single moment?

People aim for the stars, and they end up like goldfish in a bowl. I wonder if it wouldn't be simpler just to teach children right from the start that life is absurd.

Personally I think that grammar is a way to attain beauty.

I have finally concluded, maybe that's what life is about: there's a lot of despair, but also the odd moment of beauty, where time is no longer the same. It's as if those strains of music created a sort of interlude in time, something suspended, an elsewhere that had come to us, an always within never. Yes, that's it, an always within never.

If you have but one friend, make sure you choose her well.

I find this a fascinating phenomenon: the ability we have to manipulate ourselves so that the foundation of our beliefs is never shaken.

Madame Michel has the elegance of the hedgehog: on the outside she is covered in quills, a real fortress, but my gut feeling is that on the inside, she has the same simple refinement as the hedgehog: a deceptively indolent little creature, fiercely solitary--and terrible elegant. 

When something is bothering me, I seek refuge. No need to travel far; a trip to the realm of literary memory will suffice. For where can one find more noble distraction, more entertaining company, more delightful enchantment than in literature?

Do you know that it is in your company that I have had my finest thoughts?

Thursday
Nov292018

David Benioff

I've always envied people who sleep easily. Their brains must be cleaner, the floorboards of the skull well swept, all the little monsters closed up in a steamer trunk at the foot of the bed.

Talent must be a fanatical mistress. She's beautiful; when you're with her, people watch you, they notice. But she bangs on your door at odd hours, and she disappears for long stretches, and she has no patience for the rest of your existence; your wife, your children, your friends. She is the most thrilling evening of your week, but some day she will leave you for good. One night, after she's been gone for years, you will see her on the arm of a younger man, and she will pretend not to recognize you.

I'll tell you a secret.
Something they don't teach you in your temple. 
The Gods envy us. 
They envy us because we're mortal, because any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. 
You will never be lovelier than you are now.
We will never be here again.

There are a few moments in your life when you are truly and completely happy, and you remember to give thanks. Even as it happens you are nostalgic for the moment, you are tucking it away in your scrapbook.

Truth might be stranger than fiction, but it needs a better editor. 

I was half asleep but I smiled. In spite of all his irritating qualities, I couldn't help liking a man who despised a fictional character with such passion.


Wednesday
Nov282018

Alan Cohen

Those who love you are not fooled by mistakes you have made or dark images you hold about yourself. They remember your beauty when you feel ugly; your wholeness when you are broken; your innocence when you feel guilty; and your purpose when you are confused.

It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful.

Scared and sacred are spelled with the same letters. Awful proceeds from the same root word as awesome. Terrify and terrific. Every negative experience holds the seed of transformation.

To grow, you must be willing to let your present and future be totally unlike your past. Your history is not your destiny

Do not resist events that move you out of your comfort zone, especially when your comfort zone was not all that comfortable.

It is not insult from another that causes you pain. It is the part of your mind that agrees with the insult. Agree only with the truth about you, and you are free.

There is virtue in work and there is virtue in rest. Use both and overlook neither.

Everything will line up perfectly when knowing and living the truth becomes more important then proving anything to anyone.


Tuesday
Nov272018

Erin McKean

You don’t owe prettiness to anyone. Not to your boyfriend/spouse/partner, not to your co-workers, especially not to random men on the street. You don’t owe it to your mother, you don’t owe it to your children, you don’t owe it to civilization in general. Prettiness is not a rent you pay for occupying a space marked ‘female’.

If you want someone to stop listening to you go ahead and yell. If you want them to listen to every word, whisper.

Singing is probably the better medicine than half the stuff they sell in pill bottles, and it’s cheaper, too.

Experiences is just paying attention as time passes.

The rule is, don't speak of the dead, not don't speak ill of the dead's terrible relatives.

People say to me, ‘How do I know if a word is real?’ You know, anybody who’s read a children’s book knows that love makes things real. If you love a word, use it. That makes it real.

Monday
Nov262018

Simon Van Booy

I read books because I love them, not because I think I should read them.

You were unsure which pain is worse -- the shock of what happened or the ache for what never will.

Coincidences mean you're on the right path.

For those who are lost, there will always be cities that feel like home.

I wonder if things can happen too early or too late or if everything happens at exactly the right time. If so, how sad and beautiful.

He thinks I suffer from depression. But I’m just quiet. Solitude and depression are like swimming and drowning. In school many years ago, I learned that flowers sometimes unfold inside themselves.

Loneliness is like being the only person left alive in the universe, except that everyone else is still here.

Love between strangers takes only a few seconds and can last a whole life.

I think people would be happier if they admitted things more often. In a sense we are all prisoners of some memory, or fear, or disappointment -- we are all defined by something we can’t change.

The most significant conversations of our lives occur in silence.

For lonely people, rain is a chance to be touched.


Sunday
Nov252018

Harry Crews

There is something beautiful about all scars of whatever nature. A scar means the hurt is over, the wound is closed and healed, done with.

That was the only decision there was once upon a time: what to do with the night.

I think all of us are looking for that which does not admit of bullshit . . . If you tell me you can bench press 450, hell, we'll load up the bar and put you under it. Either you can do it or you can't do it—you can't bullshit. Ultimately, sports are just about as close to what one would call the truth as it is possible to get in this world.

If you wait until you got time to write a novel, or time to write a story, or time to read the hundred thousands of books you should have already read - if you wait for the time, you will never do it. ‘Cause there ain’t no time; world don’t want you to do that. World wants you to go to the zoo and eat cotton candy, preferably seven days a week.

Speaks well of a man to need a little something in this world. I wouldn't trust a man who could git through it cold sober.

There ought to be a law against the sun rising and setting for you in somebody else.


Saturday
Nov242018

Leila Sales

Sometimes people think they know you. They know a few facts about you, and they piece you together in a way that makes sense to them. And if you don't know yourself very well, you might even believe that they are right. But the truth is, that isn't you. That isn't you at all.

That's the problem with life. You never get enough time to stare at your ceiling and try to figure out what's going on.

Well, you can't have heartbreak without love," Dan pointed out. "If your heart was really broken, then at least you know you really loved him.

People are who they are and, try as you might, you cannot make them be what you want them to be.

I believe that a person's taste in music tells you a lot about them. In some cases, it tells you everything you need to know.

Don't you ever want to have just one thing that no one else knows about, so no one can ruin it for you?

You think it's so easy to change yourself. You think it's so easy, but it's not. True, things don't stay the same forever: couches are replaced, boys leave, you discover a song, your body becomes forever scarred. And with each of these moments you change and change again, your true self spinning, shifting positions-- but always at last it returns to you, like a dancer on the floor. Because throughout it all, you are still, always, you: beautiful and bruised, known and unknowable. And isn't that - just you - enough.


Friday
Nov232018

Lisa Genova

“You're so beautiful," said Alice. "I'm afraid of looking at you and not knowing who you are."
"I think that even if you don't know who I am someday, you'll still know that I love you."
"What if I see you, and I don't know that you're my daughter, and I don't know that you love me?"
"Then, I'll tell you that I do, and you'll believe me.” 

She liked being reminded of butterflies. She remembered being six or seven and crying over the fates of the butterflies in her yard after learning that they lived for only a few days. Her mother had comforted her and told her not to be sad for the butterflies, that just because their lives were short didn't mean they were tragic. Watching them flying in the warm sun among the daisies in their garden, her mother had said to her, see, they have a beautiful life. Alice liked remembering that.

Be creative, be useful, be practical, be generous and finish big.

The mother in her believed that the love she had for her daughter was safe from the mayhem of her mind, because it lived in her heart.

Everything she did and love, everything she was, required language.



Thursday
Nov222018

Kristin Cashore

I'm not going to wear a red dress," she said.
"It would look stunning, My Lady," she called.
She spoke to the bubbles gathered on the surface of the water. "If there's anyone I wish to stun at dinner, I'll hit him in the face.

When a monster stopped behaving like a monster, did it stop being a monster? Did it become something else?

How absurd it was that in all seven kingdoms, the weakest and most vulnerable of people - girls, women - went unarmed and were taught nothing of fighting, while the strong were trained to the highest reaches of their skill.

What are you grinning at?" Katsa demanded for the third or fourth time. "Is the ceiling about to cave in on my head or something? You look like we're both on the verge of an enormous joke."
"Katsa, only you would consider the collapse of the ceiling a good joke.

I know you don't want this, Katsa. But I can't help myself. The moment you came barreling into my life I was lost. I'm afraid to tell you what I wish for, for fear you'll... oh, I don't know, throw me into the fire. Or more likely, refuse me. Or worst of all, despise me," he said, his voice breaking and his eyes dropping from her face. His face dropping into his hands. "I love you," he said. "You're more dear to my heart than I ever knew anyone could be. And I've made you cry; and there I'll stop.