Quotes About Life

But pecuniary interest is clearly not in your nature. How quaint. I have written about people who don't care for money, but I never expected to meet one. Therefor I conclude that the difficulty concerns integrity. People whose lives are not balanced by a healthy love of money suffer from an appauling obsession with personal integrity. - Vida Winter

pasaul? ir p?r?k daudz gr?matu, lai t?s izlas?tu vienas dz?ves laik?; kaut kur ir j?novelk sv?tra.

We live like latecomers at the theatre; we must catch up as best we can, dividing the beginning from the shape of later events.

The laws of life and death, as she had learned them, were incomplete. There was more to life, more to death, than medical science had known.

We live like latecomers to the theater; we must catch up as best we can, divining the begging from the shape of later events.

They are more real than the books on the shelves, books that are sketched with the barest hint of a line here and there, fading in places to a ghostly nothingness. Why recall the picture now, you must be wondering. The reason I remember it so well is that it seems to be an image of the way I have lived my own life. I have closed my study door on the world and shut myself away with people of my imagination.

Our lives are so important to us that we tend to think the story of them begins with our birth. First there was nothing, then I was born... Yet that is not so. Human lives are not pieces of string that can be separated out from a knot of others and laid out straight. Families are webs. Impossible to touch one part of it without setting the rest vibrating. Impossible to understand one part without having a sense of the whole.

Tú estás viva; pero estar viva no es lo mismo que vivir.

Helena was very quiet these days. She seemed pleased about the baby, talked from time to time about plans for their lives to come, but her liveliness had gone. Future life and past losses coexisted in her, two halves of a single experience, and she bore her grief and her hope in a subdued manner.

Everybody has a story

that. I have always been a reader; I have read at every stage of my life

Usually the walk home from the Swan was a time for regret—regret that his joints ached so badly, that he had drunk too much, that the best of life had passed him by and he had only aches and pains ahead of him now, a gradual decline till at the end he would sink into the grave.

Our lives are so important to us that we tend to think the story of them begins with our birth. First there was nothing, then I was born…Yet that is not so. Human lives are not pieces of string that can be separated out from a knot of others and laid out straight. Families are webs. Impossible to touch one part of it without setting the rest vibrating. Impossible to understand one part without having a sense of the whole.

Rigid, glaring, set in a frown, his face was so much what it had been in life that the maid spoke to him three times before she realized he was dead.

Readers,' continued Miss Winter, 'are fools. They believe all writing is autobiographical. And so it is, but not in the way they think. The writer's life needs time to rot away before it can be used to nourish a work of fiction. It must be allowed to decay.

By the time we wake up to ourselves, we are little children, and our advent is something that happened an eternity ago, at the beginning of time. We live like latecomers at the theater; we must catch up as best we can, divining the beginning from the shape of later events.

When she felt the baby turn in her underwater world she remembered Quietly. The future was unfathomable, but with every heartbeat she carried her daughter towards it.

Time was of the essence. For at eight o'clock the world came to an end. It was reading time.

I felt a strange sensation inside. Like the past coming to life. The watery stirring of a previous life turning in my belly, creating a tide that rose in my veins and sent cool wavelets to lap at my temples. The ghastly excitement of it.

She will not be clever, but still, I see no reason why she should not one day lead a satisfying life separately from her sister. Perhaps she might even marry. All men do not seek intelligence in a wife, and Emmeline is very affectionate.

No, but it is necessary so we can live. It is the people who do not know this, who think every day about the bad things in their life, who turn bitter and cruel. It is like they are already dead, they are so cold and filled with hate. Like the fundamentalists. So much hate," she said, shaking her head. "Faraz and I, we do not want to become like those people. We wish to be alive.

You can't live when you're afraid of daying.

I gazed at him. He was old enough to know that few things were fair. Most five-year-olds had already discovered it.

Even though he understood the depths of racism and black oppression, Ali lived his life as a free man—a free loving and lovable man.