Quotes About Strange

god, love is more strange than numerals more strange than grass on fire more strange than the dead body of a child drowned in the bottom of a tub, we know so little, we know so much, we don't know enough.

get me in a room with more than 3 people I tend to act ill odd.

people are strange: they are constantly angered by trivial things, but on a major matter like totally wasting their lives, they hardly seem to notice…

las sensaciones de bienestar surgen en los momentos más extraños...

Now I'm thinking that dying is such a strange and ordinary thing.

They were strange and ugly and wrong and horrible, and it all began to come back to him, they were men.

In Sleep we lie all naked and alone, in Sleep we are united at the heart of night and darkness, and we are strange and beautiful asleep; for we are dying the darkness and we know no death.

El gran río resplandecía allí ante él, envuelto en la moribunda luz del día, suspendido para siempre en un sortilegio de silencio y corriendo eternamente, más extraño que una leyenda y tan oscuro como el tiempo.

Mazie sits with a sense of non-being over her – of it being someone other than she sitting there timeless, suspended in a dusky room, feeling a voice gathering around her, kind still hands of sound flaring into words meaningless and strange, meaningless when one tries to understand, but meaningful for a fleeting second.

Stain Boy Of all the super heroes, the strangest one by far, doesn't have a special power, or drive a fancy car. next to Superman and batman, I guess he must seem tame. But to me he is quite special, and Stain Boy is his name. He can't fly around tall buildings, or outrun a speeding train, the only talent he seems to have is to leave a nasty stain. Sometimes I know it bothers him, that he can't run or swim or fly, and because of this one ability, his dry cleaning bill is sky-high.

Life was such a strange thing, so permanent when one had it, so fleeting when it was lost- and those who lost it could never tell you what it was like, could they?

How strange that he should feel trapped by plans he himself had set in motion.

The ability of writers to imagine what is not self, to familiarize the strange and mystify the familiar, is the test of their power.

I didn't know what strange games were. To me, it was all part of living. A strange living. I had never known the truth so I had never cared for the truth, rationality or reason. I lived in a world of dreams, good and bad.

Love is strange & almost always too late.

Jordan has a strange, haunting beauty and a sense of timelessness. Dotted with the ruins of empires once great, it is the last resort of yesterday in the world of tomorrow. I love every inch of it.

Was that a smile? (Nora) Was what a smile? (Ewan) That strange curvature of your lips. You know, the one where the corners are actually going up instead of down. (Nora)

And why are you sitting there? (Callie) Because it's rather difficult to stand while sleeping. (Sin) You are sleeping outside my door? Why? (Callie) Because if I slept outside of Simon's door, the innkeeper might think I'm strange. (Sin)

It is in order to escape this anxiety that we have imagined the existence of "eternity," a strange world outside of time that we would like to be inhabited by gods, by a God, or by immortal souls.

We are torn between nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and strange. As often as not, we are homesick most for the places we have never known.

It is a curious emotion, this certain homesickness I have in mind. With Americans, it is a national trait, as native to us as the roller-coaster or the jukebox. It is no simple longing for the home town or country of our birth. The emotion is Janus-faced: we are torn between a nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and strange. As often as not, we are homesick most for the places we have never known.

Tis strange,-but true; for truth is always strange; Stranger than fiction: if it could be told, How much would novels gain by the exchange! How differently the world would men behold!

For truth is always strange; stranger than fiction.

He knew himself a villain—but he deem'd The rest no better than the thing he seem'd; And scorn'd the best as hypocrites who hid Those deeds the bolder spirit plainly did. He knew himself detested, but he knew The hearts that loath'd him, crouch'd and dreaded too. Lone, wild, and strange, he stood alike exempt From all affection and from all contempt