E.j Quotes

Let the spirits guide you, but never let them take you.

Sometimes the hardest things to believe are the only things worth believing at al.

Emma was doing something nice for Simon? Hell must be enjoying the snow day.

So it’s fate then?” I asked with him so close my lips brushed the line of his jaw with each word, “Us being together?” “Absolutely,” Calvin said with a low growl. Then he lifted my chin, tilting my head back, and kissed me deeply. Who was I to argue with Fate?

These dreams are almost like reentering a part in a book that was dog-eared, continuing right where I left off the last time I awoke.

And power without compassion is the worst kind of evil there is.

On rare occasions there comes along a profound original, an odd little book that appears out of nowhere, from the pen of some obscure storyteller, and once you have read it, you will never go completely back to where you were before. The kind of book you might hesitate to lend for fear you might miss its company. The kind of book that echoes from the heart of some ancient knowing, and whispers from time's forgotten cave that life may be more than it seems, and less.

i don't suffer from insanity. i enjoy every minute of it

Neither happiness nor sadness are ever done with us. They are always passing by.

We all must wake up from dreams

Nobody loves you like your mother and father. Not your husband, and not your children. While your parents are alive, eat as much of their love as you can, so it can sustain you for the rest of your life.

And then there are the dreams that feel as authentic as reality itself, that seem to exist just as your own life does. Where the emotions you experience there carry over to when you're awake. They are so real, so genuine, that you begin to question your own sanity. And you know that when the day comes that you finally stop dreaming them, you will never stop remembering.

If you can still wipe your own backside then life's not that bad!

Not so long ago we were all a tightly knit group of friends. Too bad someone had ripped apart the stitches that held us together, unraveling the cozy blanket of our friendship and leaving just enough strands to hang ourselves with.

You know all those things you've always wanted to do? You should go do them.

She could pretend that it was not grief, that insurmountable pain you were meant to climb over like a few pebbles. She had public, political problems now; the kind of problems that everyone treated as real

The road to anything truly worth having is often steep, but think of the view when you get there.

We have to believe going through darkness will eventually bring us light. Especially when night is out forever.

I need a victim and no offense Yuki, but your carrot sticks are lacking in controversy.

I have romanticised you to the point where the knives you pressed into my skin began to look like cupids arrows.

The present is the revenge of the past.

Strength without swords." "How does one conquer without a sword? Without a weapon?" "The real leader conquers with her mind. Princess Santieri's phrase, was it not?

...if Clinton's answers come off as well-intended lectures, Obama is offering soaring sermons and generational opportunity. In 1960, the articulate Adlai Stevenson compared his own oratory unfavorably with John F. Kennedy's. "Do you remember," Stevenson said, "that in classical times when Cicero had finished speaking, the people said, 'How well he spoke,' but when Demosthenes had finished speaking, the people said, 'Let us march.' " At this hour, Obama is the Democrats' Demosthenes.

My heart, always so strong in the past, was like the fishnet stockings that clung to my legs—torn, shredded, and full of gaping holes.

Our feelings are different (because our thoughts are different). Because our wants are different. Actually, everyone's the same. Our sadness, sometimes, our joys.

Walking out into the night with a water fey was all kinds of stupid. Heck, Kelpies eat people. They may not play with their food as creatively as the Each Uisge, but dead is dead.

I build worlds around us and solar systems and creatures that only exist in dreams. I manifest colors that have flavors and darkness that’s all encompassing. I go to a place unborn by man, created in a space where the natural law has no reach and the science of reason is washed away , replaced by the basic pure desire to exist, all of it coming from a place I never knew I had.

I’m trying to decide whether to tell you two to get a room or go barf in the trash can,” Emma said. “I’m leaning toward the second choice. You are both getting way too weird. And gross.” Cal barked out a laugh and slid his fingers down my arm to entwine with mine. His touch, and Emma’s comments, only made me blush more. Looks like Emma saw Cal lick my face after all. Now that wasn’t awkward or anything.

All was fine. Or at least, it appeared to be fine, which of course meant it could very well be all wrong. .

My research methods were extremely advanced. I Googled vinegar.

If wishes were flying monkeys, we'd all be wearing tiny hats.

There couldn't be a resolution, because life doesn't end on a schedule. It ends in the middle, every time.

Control people with a sword, and they resent you. Control them with a song, and they plead for more.

I was having my own game of tug of war with my cyclops at least once a night.

Most of the guests here are psychotic gang bangers anyway!

Did that fucktard touch you?

You ever wondered what it's like to be me? I always wondered what it's like to be you. Quick, lets change clothes before someone else knows. So what's your name? " E.J.B.

As far as plans went, it was like facing the zombie apocalypse with a nail file and a bag of Skittles. It might work, but chances were good that I'd die a horrible, painful death. At least the end would be filled with fruity, candy goodness. And for my dramatic death scene I could whisper, in a creepy, quivery death rattle, taste the rainbow. Boy would those zombies be confused.

Det er ikke noe å diskutere, Anastasia. Hvis du skal drikke – og kaste alkohol på eksene mine – må du også spise. Det er regel nummer én. Jeg trodde vi hadde den diskusjonen allerede etter vår første natt sammen.

I can recognize any one by the teeth, with whom I have talked. I always watch the lips and mouth: they tell what the tongue and eyes try to conceal. [at the funeral of Percy Bysshe Shelley, according to E.J. Trelawny]

You’re more than my desire, Sabine. If I’m your home, then you’re my safe harbor. The sanctuary where I can finally rest. You’re my everything—my truth, my strength, my trust, my hope, and all my love. You’re the rest of my life.

What we see changes according to what we look for.

The most dangerous rumors are fashioned out of truth.

Lost things never like to be found until they've been forgotten.

Becoming a fae leader? Not on my bucket list.

Love means never to have to say, "That hooker meant nothing to me" - Jonathan "Jack" McVoy

To strive. To seek. To find. And not to fucking yield. - Jon Hauser

When you age, wrinkles don’t make you older. They make you look more like yourself,” she warned me. “Everything comes to the surface eventually.

They say a person has so unique a set of meanings we ought to be incapable of understanding each other, yet we speak and teach as if by magic.

At the heart of my argument is the view that religious faith, far from being inevitably on the side of the status quo, should on principle hold this world to higher standards.

...but I still think that to the unprejudiced, the fossil record of plants is in favor of special creation.

Today we are going to discover all about your vagina.

You defy me?

I'd eat your face like a pack of jackals eating their stolen spoils.

That's because you have couture bollocks.

While my mother liked cleanliness, I was satisfied to have my presence linger.

Just because I survived doesn’t mean I could live

I've come to realise that there is always more than meets the eye, James

Now, I like to think that I'm of reasonable intelligence, but ordinary differential equations and myself...we don't really hang in the same comprehension circles. So, try as I might to follow my teacher's logic in how he got 3f"(x) + 5xf(x) to equal eleven, I never quite understood. His answer in no way, shape, or form resembled mine, and this misalignment -this complete confusion of how point A got to point B- is kind of where I'm at right now. "Dreaming?" I repeat dubiously.

Absolute certainty is no more attainable in metaphysics than it is in any other field of rational inquiry and it is unfair to criticize metaphysics for failing to deliver what no other discipline - not even mathematics - is expected to deliver.

As I pull down my dress the sudden realisation that I have just brutalised my own twat in the company of others places me in the most perplexing situation that I have ever found myself in.

Use your heart. Understand. Learn to see things in the now, not as they were or will be, or as they might or should be, but as they are, right now, in this moment. The heart sees the now; the mind only sees the next. If you can’t learn to see the now, you’ll never see what’s truly there, and then where will you be?” “Trapped” “Precisely. But if you take care of the now, the future will work out as it should.

I ONCE READ somewhere that the odds of getting hit by lightning are one in a million. One in a friggin’ million. So, if this situation were to be viewed optimistically, I’m a pretty unique individual. But here’s the thing—I just got hit by lighting on my birthday, so optimism can go kiss pessimism’s

His comment brings me back to my birthday dinner with Jared, and I grin at the memory. Dev blinks a few times at my pleased expression and gives me one of his knee-weakening smiles. Immediately, my face falls. "I wasn't smiling at you." "I see." He glances around. "So it was for the other man who opened the door for you." "As a matter of fact, it was," I say and breeze past him.

Most philosophers and moralists believe as little in what they write as the manufacturers of baby foods and meat extracts believe in their own products; neither do they act with more good faith than those who lead spiritualist séance; and very few poets have themselves experienced the happiness they describe.

In Philosophy structures and systems are useless (one wants to be struck by direct insight). Systems have value only when applied in the struggle with an enemy; philosophy should not be applied. Philosophy cannot work mathematically.

It is easy to blame the person responsible for the crime, to hate them and despise them, but when we sit idly by and watch evil happen right before our very eyes and become bound to the person by hate, we become co-conspirators of the wrong.

You know my grandmothers,” I said, and pointed at my nose, a habit I had picked up when I lived in Japan. “I’m an accumulation of their lives. Whatever I say or do now can give relief to the past—and to them. I don’t believe they’re ever gone.

My birthday was coming up and we hadn't talked about it. I dreaded it. I was in no mood to celebrate the one day that always reminded me of my unfortunate birth. Celebrations were supposed to be happy things and there was nothing happy about this year or that day.

It’s in the past now.” Achak leaned into her chair. “Only there to learn from, not dwell.

No time like the immediate, for tomorrow we may be dead, serving life and God's people no longer. It's in now we must take action to become the heroes of the morn'.

When our souls join, they burn with more fervor than the sun, they move more than the strongest of the winds and give life, like the fountain of eternal living waters.

So many people suffer because they choose to suffer. Pain comes to us all, but suffering is a choice.

In life, the test comes first, the lesson later.

wE'rE aLL DePrEsSeD aNd sUiCiDaL, wE'rE jUsT aLL iNdENiAL

What do you think you're going to do with an antique rifle?" "Probably shoot something with it.

I'm going to stick by you, for better or for worse." "It will most likely be worse, you know." "Yeah, I figured.

If I hadn’t stopped to thank the ghoul, I might not be covered in rotting, slimy, dead guy. I shook my head ruefully and continued walking. No good deed goes unpunished.

Sometimes the hardest things to believe are the only things worth believing at all.

You shouldn’t chase people. You should know that you are important enough and deserve the time and attention just like everyone else. You shouldn’t run after people to prove that you matter and exist. You are worth it, more than you could ever imagine. You are a star that could sparkle on anyone’s night sky. You are everything in someone’s eyes. Remember, do not chase, let them know your worth because if you have to chase, it’s not real love. It’s not worth it.

Those who believe in the unconditional benefits of past experience should consider this pearl of wisdom allegedly voiced by a famous ship’s captain: But in all my experience, I have never been in any accident… of any sort worth speaking about. I have seen but one vessel in distress in all my years at sea. I never saw a wreck and never have been wrecked nor was I ever in any predicament that threatened to end in disaster of any sort. E. J. Smith, 1907, Captain, RMS Titanic Captain Smith’s ship sank in 1912 in what became the most talked-about shipwreck in history.*

If a faerie, a vampire, and a demon walk into a bar, you wait for the punch line. At Private Eye, when a faerie, a vampire, and a demon walk through the door, it’s just another day at the office.

I swallow. Will I like this different me? Will my friends and family? “I know there is a popular saying ‘ignorance is bliss.’” She eyes me sympathetically, as if she knows my thoughts. “But I also know there is a better one that says ‘knowledge is power.’” I’m currently unsure which one I agree with.

Rae!” I shove his shoulder. “You can’t do that! You can’t snoop about you through me!”“Why not? How else were you going to repay me for this favor?” The corner of his mouth tips up. “Plus, wouldn’t you ask her that?”“Oh. My. God! That’s not the point,” I scold, but after a moment ask, “What did she say?

What I had meant to say in the kitchen was that I had loved fish since I was little—white bite, crispy skin. I had been waiting for it so long that the picture of soft flesh decomposed and left bones for a fossil. When I had argued in the kitchen, I was arguing about what was lost to me. Like how I could not read the letters because of the old water stains that had spread ink across the bottom of the page. The problem was not the damage but the cause. I recognized the tears my younger self had wept while touching the shapes on the paper.

I’d been called a freak, and worse, all through school. Now that I’d finally graduated, I was sick of it. I’d hoped that no one would ever call me names again. Oh well, if wishes were flying monkeys, we’d all be wearing tiny hats.

Religious people should always be wary of the ways in which political power is wielded and skeptical of how economic privileges are distributed. They should also be mindful of how their own traditions have been used for narrow political purposes, and how some religious figures have manipulated the faith to aggrandize their own power. The doctrine of original sin and the idea of a fallen side of human nature apply to people who are religious no less than those who are not.

Now I am experiencing the Clear Light of objective reality. Nothing is happening, nothing ever has happened or ever will happen. My present sense of self, the voyager, is in reality the void itself, having no qualities or characteristics. I remember myself as the voyager, whose deepest nature is the Clear Light itself; I am one; there is no other. I am the voidness of the void, the eternal unborn, the uncreated, neither real nor unreal. All that I have been conscious of is my own play of consciousness, a dance of light, the swirling patterns of light in infinite extension, endless endlessness, the Absolute beyond change, existence, reality. I, the voyager, am inseparable from the Clear Light; I cannot be born, die, exist or change. I know now that this is my true nature.

The ideas in each—from profit-sharing with employees to new approaches to job training, from reform of the financial system to promote long-term time horizons on investment to more progressive taxes and large-scale infrastructure investment—would help create a more just economy.

a good book "never steals hours away from you; it always helps make the hours feel like they were spent doing something special. It's like you get extra time, Rachel--the hours you spend reading and the hours your mind spends in that place, that's time that the author gives to you.

Fifty years before Sherlock Holmes first appeared, the Bow Street Runner had used the Sherlockian method of careful observation of trifles. The Randall matter was the first case of ballistic identification to be documented, and Henry Goddard remains forever inscribed in forensic history as the man who proved that the butler did it.

Though we can never be fully pure in body, we can be fully pure in heart. Half black, half white, half evil, half good, we are all the same, struggling to find our path in this seemingly never-ending chasm of darkness. And may we one day reach the light we so eagerly seek, knowing that the freedom from darkness may only come when we shine our own light upon others.

He glanced to the walkways on either side of him, wondering what the chances were that he would actually catch sight of Ziva. Keeping an eye out for someone who didn't want to be found - especially when that someone was Lieutenant Ziva Payvan - was as close to futile as something could get. It wasn't a matter of finding her, but rather of her making herself known when she saw fit.

Edmond Locard ordered all the local organ grinders and their simian employees brought to his laboratory. A number of the monkeys, perhaps concerned about an infringement of their civil rights, resisted fingerprinting and had to be restrained. The organ grinders were more cooperative. When the burglarizing beast had been identified, his companion’s rooms were searched and there the missing items were found.

Let me tell you what it is I believe in so that we better understand each other. I believe in a man thinking for himself and being his own master. I believe in going where I want to go, and doing what I want to do, being as fee as the wind. No limits, no obligations, and no laws. There may or may not be a path, but it makes no difference to me because I'm sure that, by whatever means, we'll reach that kingdom and I'll be paid.

It would appear to a quoting dilettante—i.e., one of those writers and scholars who fill up their texts with phrases from some dead authority—that, as phrased by Hobbes, “from like antecedents flow like consequents.” Those who believe in the unconditional benefits of past experience should consider this pearl of wisdom allegedly voiced by a famous ship’s captain: "But in all my experience, I have never been in any accident… of any sort worth speaking about. I have seen but one vessel in distress in all my years at sea. I never saw a wreck and never have been wrecked nor was I ever in any predicament that threatened to end in disaster of any sort." E. J. Smith, 1907, Captain, RMS Titanic Captain Smith’s ship sank in 1912 in what became the most talked-about shipwreck in history.

If you have something better to be doing than poetry, which means almost anything else, that is the thing you should be doing right now,” he said to the class. Then, he turned to me. “There’s nowhere else you could be?” “No,” I said to him. “Nowhere.” “You made the right choice. Poetry is better than nothing,” he said to me. “But you have nothing to fall back on.” He was careful not to ask any more questions. He must have sensed I was embarrassed to speak in front of the others, who were confident and sharp. The professor took out the napkin and let it open in his hand. “I’m going to be honest with all of you.” The room looked at each other. The professor said to the class, “If you have something else, and you can do something else, then don’t let it go. Most of you will go back to doing that thing.

Passing him with frightening speed, I see him sailing downward with his open parachute. “It won’t open!” “Pull harder!” Looking down, I estimate that at this speed it will only be a matter of seconds before I collide with the black lava rocks below. They rigged it! is all I can think. President Volkov won. I lost. I failed Gemma. I failed Nicholas. I failed myself. All of a sudden, someone rams into me from behind and hooks his arms and legs around my body. I look back and see Cory. “You’re crazy!” I scream as we spin out of control. “I know!” He smiles like he really is, but he feeds off of this kind of insanity. “Hold on!” The ground is so close and I can see the green grass and smell the scent of it mixed with the sulfur. He helps me turn around and I lock my arms around his thick shoulders, my legs around his firm hips. We’ll die together, and he doesn’t seem to care one bit. He really is insane!

Cynnie’s disappeared while I’ve shut up shop. So has Ty, without even giving me a hug. He’s getting a dozen noogies for that the next time I see him. I lock up, checking and double-checking my security. On the way back from checking the manual lock on the fire escape door, I find the dress Cynnie was wearing draped across the foot of the staircase up into the loft like a fallen flower petal. “Baby?” Her wild giggle answers me. Grinning, I scoop up the dress and carry it up the stairs. I expect her to be n*ked in the bed, but she’s not. There’s no sign of her. “Baby, where are you?” Another wild giggle. With the open plan of my apartment, the stairwell, and the screen of trees in the loft, the acoustics can be weird. I was sure the first giggle came from upstairs. Now, it sounds like her giggle is coming from downstairs. “Come out, come out, wherever you are, bumble baby,” I call. Insane giggles. I spin around in place on the landing, trying to locate the source of those irresistible giggles. “When I find you, I’m going to b*te my bumble very hard on her b*ttom,” I growl. “I sting you!” That was definitely from my bedroom. I tear through the doorway and look around. No naughty bumble in my bed. I yank open the closet doors. No naughty bumble in my closets. There aren’t many hiding places in my bedroom. There’s no way she could fit between the trees. Then I spot the black rectangle half-hidden in the rumpled bedding. A phone. She’s put it on speaker and dimmed the screen. That sneaky little bee. I grab the phone and growl into it. “I’m going to find you.” “I fly away!” “You’ll never get away from me, little girl. And when I catch you, I’m going to eat you up.” I grip the phone, so turned on my hand shakes, muscles bunching. I pant into the phone. “I’m going to find you, wherever you are, and rail you into the ground.” She squees. There’s a very faint echo, and I realize where she is. Game on.

There is no silence upon the earth or under the earth like the silence under the sea; No cries announcing birth, No sounds declaring death. There is silence when the milt is laid on the spawn in the weeds and fungus of the rock-clefts; And silence in the growth and struggle for life. The bonitoes pounce upon the mackerel, And are themselves caught by the barracudas, The sharks kill the barracudas And the great molluscs rend the sharks, And all noiselessly-- Though swift be the action and final the conflict, The drama is silent. There is no fury upon the earth like the fury under the sea. For growl and cough and snarl are the tokens of spendthrifts who know not the ultimate economy of rage. Moreover, the pace of the blood is too fast. But under the waves the blood is sluggard and has the same temperature as that of the sea. There is something pre-reptilian about a silent kill. Two men may end their hostilities just with their battle-cries, 'The devil take you,' says one. 'I'll see you in hell,' says the other. And these introductory salutes followed by a hail of gutturals and sibilants are often the beginning of friendship, for who would not prefer to be lustily damned than to be half-heartedly blessed? No one need fear oaths that are properly enunciated, for they belong to the inheritance of just men made perfect, and, for all we know, of such may be the Kingdom of Heaven. But let silent hate be put away for it feeds upon the heart of the hater. Today I watched two pairs of eyes. One pair was black and the other grey. And while the owners thereof, for the space of five seconds, walked past each other, the grey snapped at the black and the black riddled the grey. One looked to say--'The cat,' And the other--'The cur.' But no words were spoken; Not so much as a hiss or a murmur came through the perfect enamel of the teeth; not so much as a gesture of enmity. If the right upper lip curled over the canine, it went unnoticed. The lashes veiled the eyes not for an instant in the passing. And as between the two in respect to candour of intention or eternity of wish, there was no choice, for the stare was mutual and absolute. A word would have dulled the exquisite edge of the feeling. An oath would have flawed the crystallization of the hate. For only such culture could grow in a climate of silence-- Away back before emergence of fur or feather, back to the unvocal sea and down deep where the darkness spills its wash on the threshold of light, where the lids never close upon the eyes, where the inhabitants slay in silence and are as silently slain.