Quotes About Stories

Would it be so strange to think that upon death, when there is no newly created consciousness in the continuation of our histories, we might experience ourselves in God as participants in God's own life? And if such could happen, would it not be the case that as God experiences the continuing events of the world, we who are held in the life of God would also experience the continuing stories of earth?

Doctor: 'I am not a hero. Robin Hood: 'Well, neither am I, but if we both keep pretending to be, perhaps others will be heroes in our name. Perhaps we will both be stories and may those stories never end.

History is a burden. Stories can make us fly.

Well, we're meant to be writing stories today

And I think a long time ago there were big stories. Stories so big you could live your whole life in them. The Powerful Hands of the Gods and Fate. The Journey to Enlightenment. The March of Socialism. But they all died or the world grew up or grew senile or forgot them, so now we're making up our own stories. Little stories. But we've each got one.

But most of all I was inspired by the stirring examples of all the other runners. In some pictures they would seem like tiny dots in a mosaic, but each had a separate narrative starting a few months or a lifetime earlier and finishing that day in the New York City Marathon, the race with 37,000 stories.

You believe in a book that has talking animals, wizards, witches, demons, sticks turning into snakes, burning bushes, food falling from the sky, people walking on water, and all sorts of magical, absurd and primitive stories, and you say that we are the ones that need help?

When stories are not told, we risk losing our way.

The great metanarrative of progress and conquest has run aground on the shoals of environmental concern and a loss of confidence in science and technology as reliable sources of our salvation. Instead of a single unifying story or grand narrative, postmodernity sees a world of many stories.

The writer of stories must please, or he will be nothing. And he must teach whether he wish to teach or no. How

I've come to realize one thing, that stories are always bigger than we are, they happen to us and we are their protagonists without realizing it, but in the stories we live, we aren't the true protagonists, the true protagonist is the story itself.

All those stories I've told you are as delicate as butterflies.

You know why Wainwright and his kind fear me, don't you?.. They fear that we know the truth about the origins of their faiths. How long, they wonder, have we been observing humanity? Have we watched Mohammad begin the hegira, or Moses giving the Jews their law? Do we know all the false in their stories they believe?

Everyone tells stories around here. Every place, every person has a ring of stories around them, a halo almost. People have told me tales ever since I was a tiny girl squatting in the front dooryard, in mud-caked overalls, digging for doodlebugs. They have talked to me, and talked to me. some I've forgotten, but most I remember. And so my memory goes back before my birth

I was already doing a lot of splendid research reading all the books about ghosts I could get hold of, and particularly true ghost stories - so much so that it became necessary for me to read a chapter of _Little Women_ every night before I turned out the light - and at the same time I was collecting pictures of houses, particularly odd houses, to see what I could find to make into a suitable haunted house.

One of the most terrifying aspects of publishing stories and books is the realization that they are going to be read, and read by strangers. I had never fully realized this before, although I had of course in my imagination dwelt lovingly upon the thought of the millions and millions of people who were going to be uplifted and enriched and delighted by the stories I wrote.

Those crazy physicists that spend all day cooking themselves under an atomic reactor and all night writing stories for Weird World have done it. Spoiled my day completely. One of those idiots has hung the world up like a celluloid ball in an airstream.

Eleanor—"I plan to stay up and read for a while." "Are you still reading Pamela?" Eleanor asked the doctor. "Volume two. I have three volumes to go, and then I shall begin Clarissa Harlowe, I think. Perhaps Luke would care to borrow—" "No, thanks," Luke said hastily. "I have a suitcase full of mystery stories.

One of the most terrifying aspects of publishing stories and books is the realization that they are going to be read, and read by strangers. I had never fully realized this before, although I had of course in my imagination dwelt lovingly upon the thought of the millions and millions of people who were going to be uplifted

what a shame that dreams are not the stuff that stories are made on.

He had spent his whole life listening to stories from the past and now he had his own, and it was slowly building chapter by chapter.

I like that library books have secret lives. All those hands that have held them. All those eyes that have read them. I

Moments recalled like friends. It was that way or another. We're fairly certain either way. Stories. They are with us. Time doesn't forsake. It doesn't soothe or decrease. Never.

Er erzählte mir Geschichten, und vor allem ging er mit mir spazieren. Er zeigte mir Straßen und Plätze, Quais und Kanäle, die Friedhöfe, die Hafenplätze und Lagerhäuser, die unsicheren Viertel, die Kneipen - so viele Ecken von Paris, die ich nicht kannte.