Quotes About Story

There's always the chance you could die right in the middle of your life story.

Plot is like Soylent Green: it's made of people.

One time, a roadrunner watched her take a shit, her squatting form framed by the Sangre de Cristo Mountains.

The story goes that every Jedi constructs his own lightsaber, and every penmonkey constructs his own pen.

But we don't really know anything at all, except how the story should go, and we make believe it's our story, hoping everything will turn out okay. The difference is that onstage, or in a film, we acknowledge the artifice, we accept that we've made a world that excludes what we ignore. Like gods, we invent a world that makes sense.

Scripture offers the unique access to the story of redemption and then, in turn, funds tradition, reason and experience, as God's Word is remembered, experienced, and thought about.

The most calamitous failures of prediction usually have a lot in common. We focus on those signals that tell a story about the world as we would like it to be, not how it really is.

The things I will invent will be, I suspect, mundane by comparison with the truth. And as I said, it's my intention that you should not know the difference. I plan to interweave the elements of my story so cunningly that you'll cease to even care whether an event happened out there in the same world where you walk, or in here, in the head of a crippled man who will never again move from his stepmother's house.

Legends are not born or made, they just are.

Was that what made him a European? To want to have his story told once more, passed down the line to another eager listener who would, in his time, disregard its lesson and repeat his own suffering? Ah, how he loved tradition.

I think sometimes horror fiction has a significance which we forget, which is if you fear something in fiction, you have the chance of a resolution. You have a chance that the story will finish itself.

Speculative horror has become our generation's most viable tradition of the passed story.

That's a whole other story.' 'Is it?' Gentle replied. 'Or is it all one?

His story remains behind, echoing inside me, a tale of impossible choices.

Mark Spitz didn't ask about Harry. You never asked about the characters that disappeared from a Last Night story. You knew the answer. The plague had a knack for narrative closure.

Spoiler: I didn't win the Main Event. You had suspicions, you say? For one thing, the subtitle of this book would be The Amazing Life-Affirming Story of an Unremarkable Jerk Who Won the World Series of Poker! instead of having the word Death in it. For another, do these sound like the words of a motherfucker who won a million goddamn dollars?

When the state of Florida dug him up fifty years later, the forensic examiner noted the fractures in the wrists and speculated that he'd been restrained before he died, in addition to the other violence attested by the broken bones. Most of those who know the story of the rings in the trees are dead by now. The iron is still there. Rusty. Deep in the heartwood. Testifying to anyone who cares to listen.

So, leave the cynics be. Out-cynic them. Step into that elsewhere. Believe that your story is bigger than yourself. In

This is the story of Dr. J., the mass murderer of Steinhof. How can we dare to predict the behavior of man? We may predict the movements of a machine, of an automaton; more than this, we may even try to predict the mechanisms or dynamisms of the human psyche as well. But man is more than psyche.

Freedom, however, is not the last word. Freedom is only part of the story and half of the truth. Freedom is but the negative aspect of the whole phenomenon whose positive aspect is responsibleness. In fact, freedom is in danger of degenerating into mere arbitrariness, unless it is lived in terms of responsibleness. That is why I recommend that the Statue of Liberty on the East Coast be supplemented by a Statue of Responsibility on the West Coast.

Mother had told me her favorite story about a little Protestant lady who, on being told that the candle at the high altar in St. Peter's had not been out for a thousand years, pursed her lips and extinguished it, saying, Well, it's out now.

For you [muses] are divine, and you have the gifts of memory and story; but only the faintest echo of the great tale has come down to me

Romantic Love is only an Illusion. A story one makes up in One's Mind about Another Person.

But love – don't we all talk a great deal of nonsense about it? What does one mean? ... It's only a story one makes up in one's mind about another person, and one knows all the time it isn't true. Of course one knows; why, one's always taking care not to destroy the illusion.