Quotes About Contrast

Over time, Elwood saw that he was always simultaneously at home in whatever scene he found himself and also seemed like he shouldn't have been there; inside and above at the same time; a part and apart. Like a tree trunk that falls across a creek—it doesn't belong and then it's never not been there, generating its own ripples in the larger current.

If that happened to the harmless places, what do you think the haunted places looked like?

The iron horse still rumbled through the tunnel when she woke. Lumbly's words returned to her: If you want to see what this nation is all about, you have to ride the rails. Look outside as you speed through, and you'll find the true face of America. It was a joke, then, from the start. There was only darkness outside the windows on her journeys, and only ever would be darkness.

Maynard Spencer was a white man in his late fifties, bits of silver in his cropped black hair. A real "crack of dawner," as Harriet used to say, who moved with a deliberate air, as if he rehearsed everything in front of a mirror.

Stickups were chops - they cook fast and hot, you're in and out. A stakeout was ribs - fire down low, slow, taking your time.

New York City in death was very much like New York City in life. It was still hard to get a cab, for example.

You can argue for hours about the Apollonian and the Dionysian, but the dark wins every time so fuck the Beatles, just fuck 'em, perspective-wise.

The city was bigger than its buildings, bigger than its inhabitants too. It had its own nuances. It accepted whatever came its way, the crime and the violence and the little shocks of good that crawled out from underneath the everyday.

They entered the wild country. Broken fences. Ruined castles. Stretches of bogland. Wooded headlands. Turfsmoke rose from cabins, thin and mean. On the muddy paths, they glimpsed moving rags. The rags seemed more animate than the bodies within. As they passed, the families regarded them. The children appeared marooned with hunger.

The quiet lines matter as much as the noisy ones.

The Irish are great for their tunes, but all their lovesongs are sad and their warsongs happy.

How can hope live in the same words as the most crushing despair?

If someone had seen our faces on the journey from Auschwitz to a Bavarian camp as we beheld the mountains of Salzburg with their summits glowing in the sunset, through the little barred windows of the prison carriage, he would never have believed that those were the faces of men who had given up all hope of life and liberty. Despite that factor - or maybe because of it - we were carried away by nature's beauty

Com o que é que os presos sonhavam com maior frequência? Com pão, bolos, cigarros e belos banhos quentes. A falta de satisfação destes desejos simples levava à procura de uma satisfação derivada em sonhos. Se estes sonhos traziam algum alívio é já outra questão; o sonhador tinha de acordar deles para a realidade da vida no campo e para o terrível contraste entre isso e as ilusões do seu sonho.

could send everyone in America to live under the dictatorship in Turkmenistan. Or to spend a little time in a New Delhi slum. Maybe they'd gain a little perspective about how good they have it. But I can't. So instead, they'll listen to politicians tell them how they're getting

Seriez-vous un iceberg ? On m'a dit beaucoup de mal des Anglaises, mais je vous préviens ! Notre soleil ne va pas tarder à vous faire fondre, d'autant plus qu'il s'allie à notre musique et à notre vin.

Can it be that distance makes the heart feel fonder, and scatters roses where nettles really grow?

Un ser ausente de su belleza es doblemente más bello

She has a human face and as far as the groin she is a girl with lovely breasts, but below she is a monstrous sea creature, her womb full of wolves

Are we not acceptable, moon? Are we not lovely sitting together here, I in my satin; he in black and white?

love pales into insignificance when pitted against ambition.

Green in nature is one thing, green in literature another. Nature and letters seem to have a natural antipathy; bring them together and they tear each other to pieces.

She was like a crinkled poppy; with the desire to drink dry dust.

She seemed a compound of the autumn leaves and the winter sunshine ...