Quotes About Names

Gone to the nearest public-house. That is the centre of country gossip. They would have told you every name, from the master to the scullery-maid.

Shakespeare's lines are a nursery of titles for other, better writers: Pale Fire, Exit Ghost, Infinite Jest, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, The Sound and the Fury, Unnatural Acts, The Quick and the Dead, Against the Polack, To Be or Not to Be, Band of Brothers, Casual Slaughters. At the very least, I have never named one of my books after his stuff.

I soon learned that Dandakaranya, the forest I was about to enter, was full of people who had many names and fluid identities. It was like balm to me, that idea. How lovely not to be stuck with yourself, to become someone else for a while.

Achoo, Jose, Yako, Anian, Elayan, Kuttan, Vijayan, Vawa, Joy, Sumathi, Ammal, Annamma, Kanakamma, Latha, Sushila, Vi-jayamma, Jollykutty, Mollykutty, Lucykutty, Beena Mol (girls with bus names).

Caste was implied in people's names, in the way people referred to each other, in the work they did, in the clothes they wore, in the marriages that were arranged, in the language they spoke. Even so, I never encountered the notion of caste in a single school textbook. Reading Ambedkar alerted me to a gaping hole in our pedagogical universe.

My dearest one, it is not proper for men to be without names. There was a time when each man had a name of his own to distinguish him from all other men. So let us choose our names. I have read of a man who lived many thousands of years ago, and of all the names in these books, his is the one I wish to bear. He took the light of the gods and brought it to men, and he taught men to be gods. And he suffered for his deed as all bearers of light must suffer. His name is Prometheus.

What poets they were, those anatomists, my dear sir, what names they gave to all those parts, the purposes of which they didn't understand at all: the hippocampus . . . Ammon's horn . . . the corpora quadrigemina . . . the calcarine fissure . . .

My mom told me that when I was little, I called them "Candy Grandma" and "Cookies Grandma." I also called pizza crust "pizza bones." I don't know why I'm telling you this.

The Graeae's names, as so often in Greek myth, have meanings. Pemphredo is "she who guides the way," Enyo "warlike," and Dino "terrible" (as in dinosaur, which means "terrible lizard").

The Tower. He would come to the Dark Tower and there he would sing their names; there he would sing their names; there he would sing all their names. The sun stained the east a dusky rose, and at last Roland, no longer the last gunslinger but one of the last three, slept and dreamed his angry dreams through which there ran only that one soothing blue thread: There I will sing all their names!

I'd love kids. I'm obsessed with babies. Of course I've thought about baby names. A million times. I like Alfie for a little boy.

They called each other "baby" so often that I occasionally wondered if they had forgotten each other's names.

Men snälla lilla hjärtat, jag är jude, jag firar inte heller jul, men nu pratar vi om att dekorera lägenheten och då är jag helt med. Du kan sätta dig där. Jag heter Paul. Du hette Benjamin. Vanvettigt vackert namn förresten.

The afrit batted his eyelashes with a ostentatious lack of concern. "Indeed? Have you a name?" "A name?" I cried. "I have MANY names! I am Bartimaeus! I am Sakhr al-Jinni! I am N'gorso the Mighty and the Serpent of Silver Plumes!" I paused dramatically. The young man looked blank. "Nope never heard of you. Now if you'll just-

The stories that bind us, Halli. The stories we live by, that dictate what we do and where we go. The stories that give us our names, our identities, the places we belong, the people we hate.

It is a mistake to be too concerned with names and titles, my dear Rekhyt. Such things are never more than rough approximations; matters of convenience. The people speak this out of ignorance. It's when they understand your nature and are still abusive that you will have to worry." He grinned at me side-long, "Which is always possible, let's face it.

If I could remember the names of these particles, I would have been a botanist.

Do the kits have names?" Bluefur asked. "The she-kits are Mistkit and Nightkit, and the tom is Tigerkit." "Tigerkit?" Leopardfoot had chosen a fierce name. "He's the weakest of the three," Featherwhisker mewed bleakly. "I suppose she hopes he's a fighter from the start." His eyes darkened. "He'll need to be.

Like, Jayno-eyes? That's just as stupid as Berrystumpytail," his sister replied.

Tempest shifted her paws. "You didn't ask what we'd named the kits." Squirrelflight pricked her ears. "What?" Snow purred. "Leaf, Squirrel, and Moon.

kit—and ginger, like the she-cat beside him. The she-cat nodded to her. "I'm Furze," she said, "and this is my kit, Creek.

Stormkit and Featherkit thrived, eventually taking the warrior names Stormfur and Feathertail

Once upon a time there were four little Rabbits, and their names were--Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, and Peter.

Relax," I said. "This is just first contact—we're only going to exchange names and check he's the right orientation." "And what do you think the right orientation is?" asked Victor. "The one that's facing in your direction," I said.