Ashby Quotes


When he got to his feet, the miasma lingered. It came to Shane that he could never remove Jesse from his conscience because he would never be able to forgive himself if he did. Without question, there were some sins that could not be forgiven.


How many times had she heard her father tread on the old baseball analogy, if you don't swing at the third strike, there's no chance of hitting the ball.


She'd been freed from weakness by summoning the courage and strength to live and to love. She felt the thrill of freedom, freedom to do as she wished and as she was driven.

Being born upside-down was just the first irony in Suzanne's life, a forewarning that her struggle with existence had just begun.


It happened every time she painted, when she knew her eyes were seeing something she couldn’t see but was about to come to the canvass, first from wherever and then from her heart and at last from her hands.


It was a letter that described someone’s misfortunes so vividly that the recipient of the letter would feel better about his or her own misfortunes.


Transported into a world whose existence she'd denied. She found herself in a domain of churchlike stillness where life wasn't bound to the trauma of the past but gave way to the present in a wave of hope that could carry her into a tomorrow where guilt, regret and fear gave way to promise.

Coincidence is God's way of showing He cares.


I'm not the one to forgive you, Lois. You have to forgive yourself, and your father.


I loved it best in the winter, especially during what my father called the Harvest Moon, when the tide rises and recedes almost simultaneously.

In this town very little's changed and I'm afraid it never will.


There are some sins that can never be forgiven, for to do so would be to commit a far greater sin.

I hurt myself,” Syren bit out. “I make myself bleed and it feels good. It eases the pressure inside me, but it never lasts for long.” His lips trembled. “Before I slept in your bed, I’d never had a full night’s sleep. Before I crawled into your arms I’d never been safe.” He shuffled forward. “You give me that. You hold that power and you can take it away.

You have a way of looking at things. You make it seem as though everything's going to be okay. I can't imagine a more dangerous thing to have than hope like yours.

Time passes: yesterday has gone for ever but tomorrow never comes. Let's make the most of today.

Good night, sweetheart," he says. "Good bye, sweetheart," I say. And it's so casual, so innocent that he doesn't suspect a thing.

Enjoy your freedom while it lasts, Winter Ashby, because we’re not done,” Damon warned in a low voice that snaked through my ear, taunting me. “Grow up, learn things, and have fun in high school, but don’t change the little girl who loves it ‘in the black’, because I like you there, too. And I will be back for what’s mine when you’re old enough for bigger things.

There are two roads which human beings can follow, one of wisdom and the other of ignorance. The path of the masses is generally the path of ignorance which leads them into negative situations, thoughts and deeds. These in turn lead to ill health and sorrow in life. The other road is based on wisdom and it leads to health, true happiness and enlightenment.

For me, a book held the potential to change my life, at least for the moments lost between the pages.

Strive to see with the inner eye, the heart. It sees the reality not subject to emotional or personal error; it sees the essence. Intuition then is the most important quality to develop.

Evil as well as good, both operate to advance the Great Plan.” “To have peace there must be strife; both are part of the structure of the world and requirements

Conceal your heart, control your mouth. Beware of releasing the restraints in you; Listen if you want to endure in the mouth of the hearers. Speak after you have mastered the craft.

By living a life based on wisdom and truth, one can discover the divinity of the soul, its union to the universe, the supreme peace and contentment which comes from satisfying the inner drive for self discovery.

The worst things: To be in bed and sleep not, To want for one who comes not, To try to please and please not.

When we were first married, I thought he must have been the most heartless, hateful man I'd ever known, but he was just as much a prisonor as I was. Where Vaughn imprisoned me with walls, he imprisoned his son with ignorance.

The monster inside of him was clawing to break free, while the man inside of him was tempted to fall to his knees and beg Ashby to give her back to him, unharmed.

Before I can process what’s happening, Deirdre has opened her hands and Linden has taken the ring from her and slipped it onto my finger. “Rhine Ashby,” he says. “My wife.

There is no happiness for the soul in the external worlds since these are perishable, true happiness lies in that which is eternal, within us.

Those who live today will die tomorrow, those who die tomorrow will be born again; Those who live MAAT will not die.

If you are mighty and powerful, then gain respect through knowledge and through your gentleness of speech. Don’t order things except as it is fitting. The one who provokes others gets into trouble. Don’t be haughty lest you be humbled. But also, don’t be mute lest you be chided.

Never forget, the words are not the reality, only reality is reality; picture symbols are the idea, words are confusion.

Take the fare from him who is wealthy, And let pass him who is poor.

You are everywhere. In my head, in my dreams. You are who I want. You make me feel and I—sometimes I like it, sometimes I don’t, but you make me feel and after twenty years, that alone is enough for me to want things. Unattainable things. With you. From you.

O people of the earth, men and women born and made of the elements, but with the spirit of the Divine within you, rise from your sleep of ignorance! Be sober and thoughtful. Realize that your home is not on the earth but in the Light. Why have you delivered yourselves unto death, having power to partake of immortality?

Suffering in search of truth gives true meaning to the truth.

Know thyself deathless and able to know all things, all arts, sciences, the way of every life. Become higher than the highest height and lower than the lowest depth. Amass in thyself all senses of animals, fire, water, dryness and moistness. Think of thyself in all places at the same time, earth, sea, sky, not yet born, in the womb, young, old, dead, and in the after death state.

Every word out of your mouth," he pants, "has been a lie, hasn't it?" "No," I say softly. "Not everything." "What about your name?" he says. "Is your name even Rhine?

The Universe is Mental, held in the mind of The ALL. The ALL is SPIRIT

Joan Ashby is one of our most astonishing writers, a master of words whose profound characters slip free of the page...

Give me five minutes to change and at least run a brush through my hair. My neck, my back, my Netflix and my snacks have been my friends for far too long.

This wasn’t what I’d intended to happen in the beginning. I had imagined finding a way for me to heal too while I helped him. It was a way for me to find peace. But we had become something more. Something I never imagined. Falling in love with West Ashby had not been part of my plan.

In the space beyond was Hedra Ka. A cracking scab of a planet, choked with storms and veins of lava. A mist of rocks floated in orbit, a reminder of its recent formation. It was a young world, unwelcoming, resentful of its existence. ‘That is the angriest looking thing I’ve ever seen,’ Ashby said.

These Humans, huh?’ Sissix said to Dr Chef. ‘I took some time to freak out. Didn’t you?’ ‘I sure did,’ Dr Chef said. He handed Rosemary a clean cloth. ‘Once I’d medicated Ashby and got his bots going, I locked myself in my office and yelled for a good ten minutes.’ ‘That’s what that was?’ Ashby said. He had a dim memory of layers upon layers of haunting chords, cutting through the waves of pain. ‘I thought you were singing. It was really pretty.

Joan thinks then that writers have infinite choices and mothers nearly no choice at all.

I keep going;I keep writing because I know something good will happen, and I want to see it when it happens.

Compared with the Egyptians, the Greeks are childish mathematicians.” - Plato

Seek to perform your duties to your highest ability, this way your actions will be blameless.

being alone is better than waiting on someone to remember you’re there.

Get up," I tell myself, "You go and make your dreams a reality. There's no use staying home and whine every time life beats you down. There's a meadow in the deep forest; you just have to keep pushing through.

But you," "Sixteen is perfect. You can spend the rest of your lives together. He won't have to be alone.

If there's one thing I've learned, it is to never give up--no matter what your circumstances are. Giving up doesn't solve anything.

It’s not a burden when you love someone,

This is black; fear, falling, release...excitement, risk, danger... And at any moment, death. Freedom.

Charlotte leveled him with a glare the likes of which he had never seen in synthetic women. It seemed to penetrate his every cell, as though she were watching him decay one picosecond at a time

The study of the wisdom teachings should be a continuous process in which the teachings become the predominant factor of life rather than the useless and oftentimes negative and illusory thoughts of those who are ignorant of spiritual truths.

Don’t miss this while you’re waiting for a moment more perfect than right now.

a drunk mind speaks sober thoughts

True knowledge comes from the upward path which leads to the eternal Fire; error, defeat and death result from following the lower path of worldly attachment.

Oh, I don’t mind his being wicked: he’s all the better for that; and as for disliking him—I shouldn’t greatly object to being Lady Ashby of Ashby Park, if I must marry. But if I could be always young, I would be always single. I should like to enjoy myself thoroughly, and coquet with all the world, till I am on the verge of being called an old maid; and then, to escape the infamy of that, after having made ten thousand conquests, to break all their hearts save one, by marrying some high-born, rich, indulgent husband, whom, on the other hand, fifty ladies were dying to have.’ ‘Well, as long as you entertain these views, keep single by all means, and never marry at all: not even to escape the infamy of old-maidenhood.

Incident report.” That sounds so . . . I don’t know.’ ‘Inadequate?’ ‘No kidding. I like what Kizzy called it better.’ ‘What was that?’ ‘A “monstro clusterfuck.”’ Ashby laughed dryly. ‘I doubt they have a form for that,’ he said.

What an insult, to fight for your country—to be willing to give your life, a life surrendered to duty and honor—and after all the sacrifices, your world was you alone with your possessions only piling up high enough to rest your head on.

Crap. If he could get turned on just being a fake boyfriend, no wonder he’d never tried to date her. I wouldn’t stand a chance.

I love Cecily", "whether or not you believe it. Not in the same way I loved Rose, or you. But what should that matter? I've loved all my wives differently.

L´appel du vide" - Winter Sutton Ashby

Right,” he said then shook his head. “Hell, Cat. I’m messing this up. The other night when you asked me what my type was… I lied. I know exactly what my type is. You.

It wasn't a hug - hugs ended quickly, even long ones, but this one persisted into something else entirely.

She looked up and he was looking at her, too, and it was like kissing - or perhaps the moment just before kissing, or maybe a long time after.

Sometimes the writer has to learn the hard way of creating a bad work to become a best-seller yet doesn't surrender to the negative where other writers will.

Do not assess a man who has nothing, And thus falsify your pen.

I covered my eyes with my hand. Please don’t let it be what I think it is. “It isn’t babysitting again, is it?” I asked in a squeaky voice. Oh dear, please don’t let him hear what I’d said.

And although I was paying the bills and building us a future, I did relent when Banks gave the house back to Winter, including ownership of everything in it. Banks advised Winter to keep it solely in her name, though, so she could kick me out whenever she wanted. They laughed about that one.

Jake hovered near Ellie as if she were a feather floating to the ground, and repositioned himself around her, making sure she stayed adrift. I wanted to know the pleasure of someone holding me up. But maybe some of us were meant to hit the ground. Otherwise we’d never learn to bounce. I could bounce.

What does he look like?” Winter whispered up at me, her voice raspy. I smoothed my hand over both their heads. “Like next year he’ll be running around in the fountains with us,” I told her. “He’s perfect, baby. Black hair, a little pissed off…” She snorted, and I thought about what he’d look like in a year when he was walking and running and laughing and playing. I wanted the noise. I wanted it all over the house. I wanted it filling our lives from here on out.

I’m not a good father.” I breathed out a sigh, clutching her. “Ivarsen has no discipline. He’s going to be undriven. Fane is neurotic. Everything has to be perfect. Gunnar is going to blow us up with his machines. Dag has refused to eat a vegetable since birth, and Octavia’s going to wind up in a fucking asylum when she finds out real life pirates are just terrorists with grenade launchers.” I gulped, hating that after thousands of years there was still no proven method of raising kids. “I don’t know what to do. How the hell would I know what a good parent does and doesn’t do?

You've always had trouble relinquishing control, haven't you? But it's a rewarding thing. People need a leader. They need to feel that someone is in charge, that they're in the hands of someone greater than they are. It's far scarier for each of us to believe that we are the only ones in charge of our own destinies. We know our own downfalls. ~Vaughn

Fire’s an excellent purifier.

She belongs with me, not to me.

It always takes Ignacio a minute to put his sexy together.

Be industrious, let thine eyes be open, lest you become a beggar, for the man that is idle cometh not to honor.

Why is she crying?” I barked at the doctor. “Because it fucking hurts!” she yelped, answering for him. “Well, give her something!” “It’s too late for that now,” he mumbled through his mask and then peered over Winter’s legs. “Plus, you wanted natural childbirth, right?” “What the fuck for?” I burst out, looking down at her like she had three heads. “We didn’t talk about that.

Being sad is normal. It's despair that is the enemy. Despair is like a badly sealed window. It allows all manner of things to leak inside. That's what it means to be haunted. To be cursed. It's when something takes root in the soul, the way mold can take root in the walls.

The impious Soul screams: I burn; I am ablaze; I know not what to cry or do; wretched me, I am devoured by all the ills that compass me about; alack, poor me, I neither see nor hear! This is the Soul’s chastisement of itself. For the Mind of the man imposes these on the Soul.

By becoming pregnant, I’d unsuspectingly signed up for a club that I couldn’t cancel the membership to. The rules of the club were that one must smile and nod politely while being force-fed graphic information about a billion little nasty things that would most definitely happen in the near future.

The middle seat holds an old woman, teeny, not much bigger than a doll. She is creased and wrinkled and rheumy-eyed. Her eyes, though, beneath their cloudy scrim, sparkle like emeralds. And she is bright. She is very bright. Her cheeks rouged a happy pink. Her sweater a hot pink, the vibrant color masking the heavy load on her sloped, thin shoulders.

Wounds that haven’t healed properly still hurt you. You pretend to allow them faze you, but I see past the mask. Shame, that a pretty woman like you has to perish by fire.” Cain shrugged. “I’m surprised they didn’t burn you in the witch trials.” He shook his head as if he corrected himself. “No, what am I saying? You were with Saain during that time.

... beware of finding yourself living an unintended life.

Man is separated into Soul and Body, and only when the two sides of his senses agree together, does utterance of its thought conceived by mind take place.

The thing I enjoy so much about reading are the feelings it evokes. Whether you loved it or hated it, it still made you feel. Anything that makes you feel should matter.

I refuse to give up when things go wrong because there is always a sliver lining behind the cloud.

Both of you know that one of you will get hurt if you keep this up.” “I can’t stay away from her,” I said, curling my fist.

Life’s greatest moments were only made better by sharing them with a true friend.

Over time, you begin to wonder why you’re waiting while he’s out there living. And then one day you realize being alone is better than waiting on someone to remember you’re there.

The pills were taking his pain, and they were taking him with it.

One does not run to reach success, One does not move to spoil it.

Jenks walked around the bench, standing where Ashby could see him. “Hi,” he said. Ashby turned his head. “Hi.” Jenks upturned the tub. The bolts clattered to the floor like heavy rain. “These are several hundred bolts. They are all different shapes and sizes, and Kizzy always keeps them in one communal tub. It drives me crazy.” Ashby blinked. “Why are they on the floor?” “Because we are going to sort them. We are going to sort them into nice, neat little piles. And then we’re going to take those piles and put them in smaller tubs, so that when I need a bolt, I don’t have to go digging.” “I see.” Ashby blinked again. “Why are we doing this?” “Because she jackass dumped them all over the floor, and they have to be cleaned up. And if they have to be cleaned up, we might as well sort them while we’re at it.” Jenks sat down, leaning comfortably against a planter. He began to pick through the bolts. “See, my best friend in the whole galaxy is currently on another ship, holed up in a wall, disarming hackjob explosives. … I want to do something, and it’s driving me…crazy that I can’t. I can’t even smoke because there are Aeluons around. So, fine. I’m going to sort bolts.” He swung his eyes up to Ashby. “And I think anybody who has similar feelings should join me.

Only a fool will deny that an abundance of flowers can quicken a woman's blood, and that continuing sun can burn years off a man's back. The poverty of life here augments the power of those influences. We lose our vision, and move like wooden toys: one year we wash the curtains, the next we plant a row of cabbages behind the house; and then comes a summer like that one, with grass soft as rabbit fur, and flowers.

They who have received some portion of God’s gift, these, if judged by their deeds, have from death’s bond won their release; for they embrace in their own Mind, all things, things on the earth, things in the heaven, and things above the heaven - if there be aught. They who do not understand, because they possess the aid of reason only and not Mind, are ignorant wherefore they have come into being and whereby, like irrational creatures, their makeup is in their feelings and their impulses, they fail in all appreciation of things which really are worth contemplation. These center all their thought upon the pleasures of the body and its appetites.

All the ways in which women become mothers of some sort. Is motherhood inescapably entwined in female life, a story every woman ends up telling, whether or not she sought or desired that bond; her nourishment, her caretaking, her love, needed by someone standing before her, hands held out, heart demanding succor, commanding her not look away, but to dig deep, give of herself unstintingly, offer up everything she can?

In life, there are those who save us, both in big ways and in small. Sometimes that means being set free from a dark, windowless room, or being pulled out of a burning building. More often, it means being saved from yourself, and made to finally believe that letting someone love you, isn't just a big lie that you're unwilling to tell.

This is not the "relativism of truth" presented by journalistic takes on postmodernism. Rather, the ironist's cage is a state of irony by way of powerlessness and inactivity: In a world where terrorism makes cultural relativism harder and harder to defend against its critics, marauding international corporations follow fair-trade practices, increasing right-wing demagoguery and violence can't be answered in kind, and the first black U.S. president turns out to lean right of center, the intelligentsia can see no clear path of action. Irony dominates as a "mockery of the promise and fitness of things," to return to the OED definition of irony. This thinking is appropriate to Wes Anderson, whose central characters are so deeply locked in ironist cages that his films become two-hour documents of them rattling their ironist bars. Without the irony dilemma Roth describes, we would find it hard to explain figures like Max Fischer, Steve Zissou, Royal Tenenbaum, Mr. Fox, and Peter Whitman. I'm not speaking here of specific political beliefs. The characters in question aren't liberals; they may in fact, along with Anderson himself, have no particular political or philosophical interests. But they are certainly involved in a frustrated and digressive kind of irony that suggests a certain political situation. Though intensely self-absorbed and central to their films, Anderson's protagonists are neither heroes nor antiheroes. These characters are not lovable eccentrics. They are not flawed protagonists either, but are driven at least as much by their unsavory characteristics as by any moral sense. They aren't flawed figures who try to do the right thing; they don't necessarily learn from their mistakes; and we aren't asked to like them in spite of their obvious faults. Though they usually aren't interested in making good, they do set themselves some kind of mission--Anderson's films are mostly quest movies in an age that no longer believes in quests, and this gives them both an old-fashioned flavor and an air of disillusionment and futility.