Kirby J Quotes

Sometimes, when we want something so badly, we fear failure more than we fear being without that thing.

In life, the hardest decisions often have to be made more than once. But each time, it gets easier.

Never trust a storyteller," he says. "We're all of us liars.

You can never trust anyone once you've had to trap them in a cage.

One cannot apologize for one's nature.

When you are in pain, a moment is an eternity.

You are stronger than me," Asa says. "And in bravery and strength, there is a kind of beauty.

Clockwork could not run counter to its nature. The seconds, minutes, and hours moved only forward. Patient, precise, and unstoppable. Memory was an indulgence, an illusion that broke like a wave upon the juggernaut of time. The past remained the past.

A story knows no honor. A story knows no allegiance. A story simply is.

Sharing his memories felt like handing over a sharp knife. A knife that others might handle carelessly. A knife that could be used to hurt him.

He waved to the city and said good-bye. The city responded by carrying on the way it always did, traffic moving forward uninterrupted, without slowing, as if it were trying to demonstrate its permanence and show him it would still be there if he ever wanted to return. That promise was the best and only thing he could ask of it.

In the early morning hours, Hannah read at the table by the dim light of dawn. She leaned in close to the pages, chin resting on her folded arms, eyes racing over the words, like chasing butterflies over the hills, to catch as many as she could before going to work. She wondered at how such tales of magic could be contained by mere paper and ink for her to read again and again.

Though a story may begin as a lie, perhaps it can be made true. Perhaps their ultimate power is found in how they inspire us to action.

I hate them!' she cried. 'It's not fair!' 'No, it isn't,' Frederick said gently. 'I can't do it all!' 'No. You can't.' After a long moment he said, 'But you can do what you can.' 'And what if that isn't enough?' Frederick held her shoulders and took a step back. He looked in her eyes. 'Enough for what?' 'For my family.' 'What more could they ask for than what you've given?

Giuseppe would miss them as well, but in a different way than he would miss the city. A city would stay the same. The same buildings. The same streets. Not forever, but for a great long while. But Frederick and Hannah would never again be the people they were right now, standing on the dock, wishing him farewell. Tomorrow they would wake up and be a little bit different and a little bit different the day after that, and in no time they might become people he did not recognize. Giuseppe knew it because they were already different from when he had first met them. He knew it because he was different from when they had first met him.

In the face of evil the only two responses were to cheer it on or look the other way.

The hours trampled her on their way through the day.

Maybe if people can't have an end to their suffering, the next thing they seek for is to know why they suffer. Suffering is a part of life in this world, part of a cycle....Stories give you a way to see things. A way to understand the events of your life. Even if you don't realize it while you're hearing the tale.

I know that evil hides here, but I cannot be the one to uncover it. Neither can any of you. Time will do that for us. And how I fear that day, for I know that when I look into my betrayer's face, I will see someone I thought I knew. And I will still love them.

It was his fault too,” Fredrick said. “He never really asked her why. It was like he didn’t want to know.

Confidence cannot change my appearance." "It may not change your appearance, but it can change how you are perceived.

A story is not a thing. A story is an act. It only exists in the brief moment of its telling. The question you must ask is what a story has the power to do. The truth of something you do is very different from the truth of something you know.

A rump group of rebel soldiers formed a colony west of Vera Cruz called Carlota, which soon burgeoned into a community of five thousand people. Among southern generals flocking to sanctuary in Mexico were Jubal Early, Edmund Kirby Smith, Sterling Price, J. B. Magruder, and Joseph Shelby as well as governors of three southern states and members of the Confederate cabinet. With Maximilian’s connivance, these refugees began to advertise in southern newspapers that cheap land and labor were plentiful in Mexico.

Debts were dangerous.

This regiment included some of the most famous army officers of the era, including Colonel Albert Sidney Johnston, then–Lieutenant Colonel Robert E. Lee, Major George H. Thomas, Captains Edmund Kirby Smith and Earl Van Dorn, then-Lieutenant Fitzhugh Lee, and Lieutenant John Bell Hood—all of whom became general officers during the Civil War and five of whom commanded armies.

Knihy vystavené v Nonstop knihkupectví pana Al-Asmariho v září 1969 na stolku s cedulkou MO DOPORUČUJE: Lloyd Alexander: Král králů* Maya Angelouová: Vím, proč ptáček v kleci zpívá Penelope Asheová: Nahá přišla cizinka* Margaret Atwoodová: Žena k nakousnutí* J. G. Ballard: Utopený svět Richard Brautigan: V melounovém cukru* John Brunner: Jeden vedle druhého na Zanzibaru Michael Crichton: Kmen Andromeda* Philip K. Dick: Blade Runner: Sní androidi o elektrických ovečkách?* Lawrence Ferlinghetti: Skryté významy věcí Stan Lee a Jack Kirby: Fantastická čtyřka #89 Ursula K. Le Guinová: Levá ruka tmy* Norman Mailer: Armády noci* Michael Moorcock: Hle, člověk* Philip Roth: Portnoyův komplex* Jack Vance: Město Chasch Kurt Vonnegut: Jatka č. 5* Tom Wolfe: Kyselinovej test*

Yep. I just had a question for you. Your name is what, again?” “J.J., you know my name,” the guy said, now speaking more slowly. “You called me, remember?” “I know, I just needed to check something. If you could just tell me your name. Your full name.” I met Danny’s eye two seats down from me. He shook his head and then gave me a half shrug and eye roll combo, a series of tiny, quick gestures that I could nonetheless understand perfectly: No, I have no idea what he’s doing. But really, what did we expect? “Uh,” the guy on the other end said. “It’s Billiam. Billiam Kirby.” “Billiam!” J.J. said triumphantly, raising the phone above his head. “See? Did I tell you? Did I tell you?” Most of the guests just stared blankly back at him while my dad gave him the hand-across-the-throat gesture that in our family had always meant shut it down. “No way,” Rodney muttered, reaching for his wallet. “Dammit.” Danny sighed, tossing his napkin onto the table. “I owe him twenty-five bucks.” “He got me for fifty,” Rodney said, shaking his head.

The fiddle game was a con. The way they’d explained it to Ben, a guy goes into a restaurant carrying a fiddle, orders food, eats, and then claims he can’t pay because he left his wallet somewhere else. So he offers to leave his fiddle behind as collateral while he goes to get his money. The restaurant owner agrees, and the guy leaves. After that, a second guy, who’s in on the game, comes up and tells the restaurant owner that the fiddle is special, it’s worth a lot of money, and he wants to buy it. Then, all of a sudden, the second guy has to go to an appointment or something, but he leaves his business card behind. So now the restaurant owner starts thinking he’s got something really valuable on his hands, this fiddle, and when the owner of the instrument comes back, the restaurant owner offers to buy it. The guy says he couldn’t possibly part with it, it’s his livelihood, so the restaurant owner offers more money, knowing he can make it back when he sells it. They haggle, and finally agree on a price, and the fiddle owner leaves with the money. Trouble is, when the restaurant owner goes to call the fake buyer, he can’t find him. The two guys split the money, and the restaurant owner is left with a piece-of-crap fiddle.

The good news is that we're moving with the Mongol army. Less likely to get trampled by their horses that way." "Thanks for that," Dak said. 'But you should know the Mongols were famous for being able to shoot their bows in any direction while galloping on their horses, with deadly accuracy. Even backward. Which is where we'll be coming from.

You clean the inside of your phone?" Riq asked. "Are you kidding?" Dak said. 'She cleans the inside of her calculator." Sera felt her face flushing. "So? What about it?

Oh," Riq said with a sinking feeling. "That's right. Bears climb trees.

It was Farid, the rug merchant who’d helped

You see, in all his travels through the fallen ruins of civilizations, he picked up this notion that mankind is insignificant. That nothing we create will last. That we will all turn to dust. And it is only in nature that we find constancy and immortality.

It flattered me to be fancied by him, if in fact I was, but that wasn't a sufficient reason for me to fancy him in return, and I realized in that moment I didn't and never would.

Giuseppe was not tied down, not by rope, not by fear. He stood up, and spoke with a loud voice in the language of his parents, his brother and sister. "You kidnap children because they're the only ones you can bully. You tie up an old reverend and think you're getting back at a city that hates you. You try and make everyone afraid of you because you think that makes you powerful." Giuseppe looked him up and down. "I say you're weak. I say you're a coward.

especially when they did so with sadistic glee, later turned out to be capable of anything. Which was why he wanted to throw the book at Kirby Thomas. But he never found out whether he’d overcharged him or not because days afterward the young man was arrested for beating his live-in girlfriend to a pulp and was later sent to the Wyoming State Penitentiary in Rawlins for domestic assault. Despite pleas from Kirby’s outfitter father, Earl, Joe didn’t drop his case against his son. Earl maintained that the hunting violations, whenever they were to be adjudicated, would damage his reputation as a prominent guide and outfitter in the area. Instead, Joe held the charges in reserve for when he could serve them in person. He did it

That’s like going outside in the winter without a coat just because my parents told me to wear one.

Books on display in Al-Asmari’s 24-Hour Bookstore in September 1969, on the table labeled MO’S PICKS: The High King, Lloyd Alexander I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou Naked Came the Stranger, Penelope Ashe The Edible Woman, Margaret Atwood The Drowned World, J. G. Ballard In Watermelon Sugar, Richard Brautigan Stand on Zanzibar, John Brunner The Andromeda Strain, Michael Crichton Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, Philip K. Dick The Secret Meaning of Things, Lawrence Ferlinghetti Fantastic Four #89, Stan Lee and Jack Kirby The Left Hand of Darkness, Ursula K. Le Guin The Armies of the Night, Norman Mailer Behold the Man, Michael Moorcock Portnoy’s Complaint, Philip Roth City of the Chasch, Jack Vance Slaughterhouse-Five, Kurt Vonnegut The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, Tom Wolfe

Claire shook her head, the little pom-poms on her knitted cap batting at each other. 'I was never doing this.' Eleanor cocked her head to the side with a crooked smile. 'Right. You'll just stand there and watch me do it.

she’d

I didn’t know why they so hated me on sight, but they did, and there were some who could do naught but attack what they hated.