Quotes About Life

Beside being a respectable woman she was a very sensible one; and she knew there are some battles in life which a human being must fight alone.

The years that are gone seem like dreams--if one might go on sleeping and dreaming--but to wake up and find--oh! well! Perhaps it is better to wake up after all, even to suffer, rather than to remain a dupe to illusions all one's life.

She could not have told why she was crying. Such experiences as the foregoing were not uncommon in her married life.

the dual life—that outward existence which conforms, the inward life which questions.

She answered her husband with friendly evasiveness—not with any fixed design to mislead him, only because all sense of reality had gone out of her life; she had abandoned herself to Fate, and awaited the consequences with indifference.

Copil fiind, îÈ™i tr?ise viaÈ›a m?runt? pe de-a întregul în sinea ei. De timpuriu înÈ›elesese instinctiv dualitatea existenÈ›ei: viaÈ›a exterioar?, la care te adaptezi, viaÈ›a interioar?, în care îÈ›i pui întreb?ri.

He talked of the old college days when he and Gaston had been a good deal to each other; of the days of keen and blind ambitions and large intentions. Now there was left with him, at least, a philosophic acquiescence to the existing order--only a desire to be permitted to exist, with now and then a little whiff of genuine life, such as he was breathing now.

Now there was left with him, at least, a philosophic acquiescence to the existing order—only a desire to be permitted to exist, with now and then a little whiff of genuine life, such as he was breathing now.

GeçmiÅŸ hiç yaÅŸanmam?? gibiydi... Yaln?zca bu an?n anlam? vard?, yaln?zca bu an onundu...

Lo sentì agitarsi nella camera; ogni rumore indicava impazienza e irritazione. Una volta sarebbe rientrata, alla sua richiesta. Per abitudine, si sarebbe concessa al suo desiderio; non in senso di sottomissione o di obbedienza verso le sue richieste perentorie, ma senza pensarci, proprio come si cammina, ci si muove, ci si siede e ci si rialza, si sopporta insomma il tran tran quotidiano della vita che ci è stata assegnata.

She could see in the open square before her house the tops of trees that were all aquiver with the new spring life. The delicious breath of rain was in the air. In the street below a peddler was crying his wears. The notes of a distant song which someone was singing reached her faintly, and countless sparrows were twittering in the eaves. There were patches of blue sky showing here and there though the clouds that had met and pilled one above the other in the west facing her window.

She felt as if a mist had been lifted from her eyes, enabling her to took upon and comprehend the significance of life, that monster made up of beauty and brutality

Her fancy was running riot along those days ahead of her. Spring days, and summer days, and all sorts of days that would be her own. She breathed a quick prayer that life might be long. It was only yesterday she had thought with a shudder that life might be long.

I shall die. I must die. I cannot be so unhappy, and live.

Everything that has ever happened to me is still all with me.

Did you think that rats do not have hearts? Wrong. All living things have a heart. And the heart of any living thing can be broken.

the story is not a pretty one. there is violence in it. And cruelty. But stories that are not pretty have a certain value, too, I suppose. Everything, as you well know (having lived in this world long enough to have figured out a thing or two for yourself), cannont always be sweetness and light.

We forget that the simple gesture of putting a book in someone's hands can change a life. I want to remind you that it can. I want to thank you because it did. - 2010 Indies Choice Award

Everything, as you well know . . . cannot always be sweetness and light.

I lay there and thought how life was like a Littmus Lozenge, how the sweet and the sad were all mixed up together and how hard it was to separate them out. It was confusing.

The world went on. People left and people died and people went to memorial services and put orange blocks of cheese into their purses. People confessed to you that they were hungry all the time. And then you got up in the morning and pretended that none of it had happened.

Everything, as you well know (having lived in this world long enough to have figured out a thing or two for yourself), cannot always be sweetness and light.

The world is dark, and light is precious.

I have a deep gratitude that Ida B exists.