Quotes About Events

Characterization requires a constant back-and-forth between the exterior events of the story and the inner life of the character.

Portraying Pocahontas' story well was important to me because she was a real person and these were real events in her life.

Without a purpose, life is motion without meaning, activity without direction, and events without reason.

Great passions are for the great of soul, and great events can be seen only by those who are on a level with them

For me, life has either been a wake or a wedding.

When I looked around me, fate seemed to be the only explanation for what was happening.

Story was magic. Magic was story. Memory was also story, disparate events linked together in our mind to create a narrative.

one thing, they don't have a mission and purpose to guide them. They thereby put themselves on an emotional roller coaster, and this is a fatal error, as we shall see time and again in these pages. Disappointment, excitement, despair, hope—they experience the whole range of emotions, and all because they're reacting to events over which they don't have control and ignoring those over which they do have control.

There are events in one's life which, no matter how remote, never fade from memory

A DANGEROUS COMBINATION As the epigraph to this chapter indicates, most people don't know whether they are engaging in inherent- or created-risk activities. Couple this with people's failure to distinguish between the two types of loss-producing events, continuous and discrete, introduced at the end of the last chapter, and you have a disaster waiting to happen.

We do not see our hand in what happens, and so we call certain events melancholy accidents… —Stanley Cavell

Dates are convenient hooks on which we can hang our memories of events. But history is all about people - people like you and me who did things to change the world.

Men don't like places like this where the secret maintenance work of femininity is carried on, just as they turn green and bolt when you tell them medical events are occurring in your genito-urinary system.

the only reason for time is so everything doesn't happen at

Choices are like dominoes, one tumbling against the next and then the next until events go out of human control.

God's use of the ordinary to bring about the extraordinary is as much in evidence here in the early events of Exodus as anywhere in Scripture. His tendency to bring about his will through ordinary items, ordinary people, and ordinary events is no less at work today than it was in Jochebed's.

History in the making is a very uncertain thing.

Some people are comfortable talking about their lives, as if they can make sense of the progression of random events that made them what they are. This involves a kind of forward-looking faith in life; a conviction that cause and effect are linked, and that they are themselves more than the sum of their past.

And all I'd done a few weeks ago was mention Trickster Night, so everything that happened afterward really wasn't my fault.

And you did all of this before I awakened?' 'Not all of us can afford to be layabouts ... You upper class types are all the same. Sleep until noon and then fritter your nights away.' She narrowed her eyes. 'I do not fritter my nights away.' 'Really? And what do you do at night?' 'I go to social events. Parties or galas. Sometimes a musicale. Or a charity event,' she tacked on with satisfaction. 'Well, I must retract my frittering comment in that case.' 'It's not frittering. It's surviving.

Gyvenimas yra ?vyki? grandin?, viskas susij? kaip geriausiose knygose.

The (serious) game played here makes a move that is the other way around: like (humans) subjects, (natural) objects are framed as parts of events that occur and plays that are staged. If an objects is real this is because it is part of a practice. It is a reality enacted.

We sleep to time's hurdy-gurdy; we wake, if ever we wake, to the silence of God. And then, when we wake to the deep shores of time uncreated, then when the dazzling dark breaks over the far slopes of time, then it's time to toss things, like our reason, and our will; then it's time to break our necks for home. There are no events but thoughts and the heart's hard turning, the heart's slow learning where to love and whom. The rest is merely gossip, and tales for other times.

As time went by, it mattered less and less that in 1969 a rocket went from Florida to the moon and men walked there. Good men. People's dads. Those were only events, scattered in time. Draw them close, rub them between thumb and finger till they look like larvae, soften like silk, distend to knot, to weave. It takes a village to kill a child.