Quotes About Quote

Are you there? I whisper. Large as life and twice as ugly, Moira whispers back.

the hearts gone bubonic with jealousy and greed, glinting through the vests and sweaters of anyone at all.

Love is not a profession genteel or otherwise sex is not dentistry the slick filling of aches and cavities you are not my doctor you are not my cure, nobody has that power, you are merely a fellow/traveler.

What's the difference between vision and a vision? The former relates to something it's assumed you've seen, the latter to something it's assumed you haven't. Language is not always dependable either.

He keeps his voice kindly but remote. A cross between a pedagogue, soothsayer, and a benevolent uncle – that should be his tone.

Maybe all women should be robots, he thinks with a tinge of acid: the flesh-and-blood ones are out of control.

Red all over the cupboard, mirth rhymes with birth, oh to die of laughter.

men had a thing about hair, it made them spin out of control, they said. And my hair was particularly inflammatory because it was greenish.

But we own nothing they want, so we don't qualify as terrorists.

Death is a beautiful woman, with wings and one breast almost bare; or is that Victory? I can't remember. They

Aunt Lydia, you are too good," he will beam. Too good to be true, I will think. Too good for this earth. Good, be thou my evil.

Antinous sighed. 'The gods wanted to destroy us,' he said. 'That's everyone's excuse for behaving badly,' I said.

It's French, he said. From m'aidez. Help me.

As a species we're doomed by hope, then? You could call it hope. That, or desperation. But we're doomed without hope, as well, said Jimmy. Only as individuals, said Crake cheerfully.

It's a lifelong failing: she has never been prepared. But how can you have a sense of wonder if you're prepared for everything? Prepared for the sunset. Prepared for the moonrise. Prepared for the ice storm. What a flat existence that would be.

Not giving a hoot would be a luxury. It describes the fine, irreverent carelessness I myself would like to cultivate, in these and other matters.

But maybe boredom is erotic, when women do it, for men.   I

The butter is greasy and it will go rancid and I will smell like an old cheese; but at least it's organic, as they used to say. To such devices we have descended.

left lipstick imprints the shape of grateful, rubbery sighs...

Pen Is Envy, Aunt Lydia would say, quoting another Center motto, warning us away from such objects.

As for you, she'd say to me, you're just a backlash. Flash in the pan. History will absolve me. But

Rachel; and he said, Am I in God's stead, who hath withheld from thee the fruit of the womb?   And she said, Behold my maid Bilhah

Those years were just an anomaly, historically speaking, the Commander said, just a fluke. All we've done is return things to Nature's norm.

hippo. Like something that basks, anyway. Even her knitting is going better than