Quotes to inspire and reflect

The joke loses everything when the joker laughs himself.

 

This thing you see, a bright-colored deceit, displaying all the many charms of art, with false syllogisms of tint and hue is a cunning deception of the eye…

Foolish men who accuse a woman mindlessly— you cannot even see you cause what you abuse.

 

Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small. 1

 

Teach us, good Lord, to serve Thee as Thou deservest: To give and not to count the cost; To fight and not to heed the wounds; To toil and not to seek for rest; To labor and not ask for any reward Save that of knowing that we do Thy will.

 

Armed peace.

 

Yisterday fair up sprang the flouris, This day thai are all slane with schouris; And fowles in forrest that sang cleir Now walkis with a drery cheir; Full caild are baith thair beddis and bouris.

 

O reverend Chaucere, rose of rethoris all, As in oure tong ane flour imperiall, That raise in Britane evir, quho redis rycht, Thou beris of makaris the triumph riall. 3

 

Our plesance here is all vain glory, This false world is but transitory.

 

I that in heill wes and gladnes Am trublit now with gret seiknes And feblit with infermite: Timor Mortis conturbat me. 1

 

Gem of all joy, jasper of jocundity.

 

London, thou art the flower of Cities all.

 

Love is he, radiant with great splendor, And speaks to us of Thee, O Most High.

 

Kingdoms are but cares, State is devoid of stay; Riches are ready snares, And hasten to decay.

 

Slowly consumed, like fire down a candle; Forever flowing, like a passing river. Now, morning, I face my lone shadow: Suddenly my eyes are bleared with tears. 1

 

Praise to thee, my Lord, for all thy creatures, Above all Brother Sun Who brings us the day and lends us his light.

 

Drunk we lie down in empty hills, heaven and earth our quilt and pillow. 1

 

Don’t use words too big for the subject. Don’t say “infinitely” when you mean “very”; otherwise you’ll have no word left when you want to talk about something really infinite.

Always look up words in a good dictionary, even when you know what they mean.

You don’t choose a word if you’re a writer as a golf pro chooses a club with the shot in mind. You choose it with yourself in mind— your needs, your passions. It has to carry the green, yes, but it must also carry you .

Be still when you have nothing to say; when genuine passion moves you, say what you’ve got to say, and say it hot.

You can’t clobber any reader while he’s looking. You divert his attention, then you clobber him and he never knows what hit him.

The writer is only free when he can tell the reader to go jump in the lake. You want, of course, to get what you have to show across to him, but whether he likes it or not is no concern of the writer.

If the stuff you’re writing is not for yourself, it won’t work.

Let us define a plot. We have defined a story as a narrative of events arranged in their time-sequence. A plot is also a narrative of events, the emphasis falling on causality. “The king died and then the queen died,” is a story. “The king died, and then the queen died of grief,” is a plot.

A simile must be as precise as a slide rule and as natural as the smell of dill.

Don’t say it was “delightful”; make us say “delightful” when we’ve read the description. You see, all those words (horrifying, wonderful, hideous, exquisite) are only like saying to your readers “Please will you do my job for me?”

Fiction is a lie, and good fiction is the truth inside the lie.

My characters are quite as real to me as so-called real people; which is one reason why I’m not subject to what is known as loneliness. I have plenty of company.

The clouds above us join and separate, The breeze in the courtyard leaves and returns. Life is like that, so why not relax? Who can stop us from celebrating?

La vérité est en marche; rien ne peut plus l’arrêter .

J’accuse .

There is more than one kind of wisdom, and all are essential in the world; it is not bad that they should alternate.

I am little concerned with beauty or perfection. I don’t care for the great centuries. All I care about is life, struggle, intensity. I am at ease in my generation.

The true birthplace is that wherein for the first time one looks intelligently upon oneself; my first homelands have been books.

Another ancient and extensive class of languages, united by a greater number of resemblances than can well be altogether accidental, may be denominated the Indo-european, comprehending the Indian, the West Asiatic, and almost all the European languages.

No Jewish blood runs among my blood,

Radiant light consists in Undulations of the Luminiferous Ether.

Goddamit, look! We live here and they livethere. We black and they white. They got thingsand we ain’t. They do things and we can’t. It’s just like living in jail.

Who knows when some slight shock, disturbing the delicate balance between social order and thirsty aspiration, shall send the skyscrapers in our cities toppling?

One great society alone on Earth,

Though nothing can bring back the hour

High instincts before which our mortal nature

My heart leaps up when I behold

Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he

The wiser mind

We are laid asleep

We murder to dissect.