Quotes About Author

This Is Real and You Are Completely Unprepared: The Days of Awe as a Journey of Transformation, by the late rabbi Alan Lew,

She picked up her glove and hit his cheek with it, but so lightly he did not even blink. "I despise you," she said. "Quite," said Mr. Mackenzie. Jean Rhys, After Leaving Mr. Mackenzie

For, indeed, without sin there would have been neither magistrate nor state-order; but political life, in its entirety, would have evolved itself, after a patriarchal fashion, from the life of the family.

Public opinion, though often formed upon a wrong basis, yet generally has a strong underlying sense of justice

That [man] can compress the most words in the fewest ideas of any man I ever knew.

I have just read your dispatch about sore tongued and fatigued horses. Will you pardon me for asking what the horses of your army have done since the battle of Antietam that fatigue anything?

So you're the little woman who wrote the book that made this great war!

About eighty to ninety per cent of the population must be rated about as high in ego-security as the most secure individuals in our society, who comprise perhaps five or ten per cent at most.

It was the very moment when I thought, At last, she is going to stay, but in fact it was her good-bye.

Koshy Saar's response is indignant. "It's fiction! Fiction is the great lie that tells the truth about how the world lives!

Without Genet as a witness, nothing I did was meaningful.

The whisky burns. How strange to try to drown pain with fire.

They call out to a toddy tapper aloft in a palm tree, who gives them final directions.

No one but "Jigiby Doctor," who gave her the miraculous drops, may operate.

Big Ammachi asks Baby Mol the question, the one she has asked every night for over a decade now, a question that counts on Baby Mol's gift of prophecy.

the growth on his upper lip so sparse that each hair could be named after an apostle.

B3 could cure schizophrenia. You would think

The day before me undresses in the wet southern heat

Victor Hugo stopped talking and everybody went to bed.

The blatancy of the icy-hearted satire repelled me.

Updike quashed the voice of his conscience, while at the same time clinging to a "me-first Salvationism.

Aduro himself had told them so.

Comic books aren't nerdy. You'd have to be an idiot to think computers are nerdy.

One of the hallmarks of our tendency to sin is that we feel the need to criticize, we take pleasure in gossiping, and we feel qualified to make judgments, often with very little information.