Quotes About Author

Tell it to the cleaning lady on Monday. Because you'll be dust on Monday. Because I'll be pulverizing you sometime over the weekend. And the cleaning lady... cleans up... dust. She dusts. And she has weekends off, so... Monday. Right?

Listen to this, okay? Just listen. You hear that? That's market bacon hitting the pan. Today a child is born unto us, and his name will be bacon.

Oh, hey, maybe I should have mentioned that my friends are retarded douchebags.

Making matters even worse was Jimmy's rancid breath, which reeked of horseradish. 

Oral myths are closer to the genetic conclusions than the often ambiguous scientific evidence of archaeology.

True love is quiescent, except in the nascent moments of true humility.

Fear is the greatest enemy; the father of all suffering, and love is the only cure for humanity's great afflictions.

A falsehood, which may be pardoned if it is to save another, is black sin if used by a coward to save himself.

Oh, it sounds ridiculous, I know, in Britain in the twentieth century, but I learned in the war that civilization anywhere is a very thin crust.

I noticed he was never too much of an egotist to take criticism when he knew it would help. It was part of his genius for self-propulsion.

It's pretty cool to be able to hang out with the President and have the race-winning car on the South Lawn.

My wife was delighted with the home I had given her amid the prairies of the far west.

I wouldn't mind going to jail if I had three cellmates who played bridge.

bujold lois mcmaster ii

Writing is more than anything a compulsion, like some people wash their hands thirty times a day for fear of awful consequences if they do not. It pays a whole lot better than this type of compulsion, but it is no more heroic.

The writers against religion, whilst they oppose every system, are wisely careful never to set up any of their own.

Men who undertake considerable things, even in a regular way, ought to give us ground to presume ability.

In most instances, such seemed the White Whale's infernal aforethought of ferocity, that every dismembering or death that he caused, was not wholly regarded as having been inflicted by an unintelligent agent.

The whale has no famous author, and whaling no famous chronicler, you will say.

equally with every felicity, all miserable events do naturally beget their like.

Toes are rare in blubber-room veterans.

nothing but that one sufficient little word queer; he's queer, says Stubb; he's queer—queer, queer; and keeps dinning it into Mr. Starbuck all the

The sea had jeeringly kept his finite body up, but drowned the infinite of his soul.

might be; and by this difference in the concluding blow producing a corresponding contrast in the final aspect of the completed fabric; this savage's sword