Blake Nevue > Blake's Quotes

“God has been there with us every step of the way.”
― Gregory S. Works, Triumph: Life on the Other Side of Trials, Transplants, Transition and Transformation

“Some people say
Rhyming is but a sin.
Little sins are fun
So try, before you bin.”
― Max Nowaz, Timbi's Dream

“It was golden hour in Tarrytown. An incandescent sun cast long shadows that pointed in unison toward nightfall. Birds sang. But their melodies were drowned out by crescendos of cicadas’ chattering.
Not to be outdone, the wind came and went in gusts, rising up and across the hills from the lake below. As it did, it blew through the trees agitating the millions of leaves in the canopy, the rustle and crackle of which drew the eyes upward, where an infinite canvas of burnt orange and purple was visible through the branches of proud oaks.”
― J.K. Franko, The Trial of Joe Harlan Junior

“The disturbing part is that no one teaches us how to deal with death at any point during our medical training, or even during our lifetime for that matter, particularly in a field such as mine where death was an inevitable certainty for some patients.”
― DEAN MAFAKO, M.D., Burned Out

“   In 1658, Francis Andrew Ransome stole the Alchemy Scroll from St. Julian’s college, my present employer. Ransome was a member of a transatlantic group called The Invisible College. They were alchemists, meaning they worked with matter and spirit together.”
― Susan Rowland, The Alchemy Fire Murder

“The world was becoming a very puzzling place for me. I didn’t understand why bad people were allowed to tell good people what to do. What kind of world would allow that to happen?  ”
― Steven Decker, Child of Another Kind

“Black reached for a Glock G21 SF. Two boxes of .45 Precision Tactical. Two knives. If he needed more, he was in real trouble.”
― William Kely McClung, Black Fire

“She peeped through one of the small holes in the outer wall rising up from the walkway. The world on the outside was nothing but countryside now. Dirt roads, like chocolate ribbons, disappeared into woods or green fields in the distance.”
― Sara Pascoe, Being a Witch, and Other Things I Didn't Ask For

“All that we send into the lives of others comes back into our own.”
― Rhonda Byrne, The Power

“We may not have sewage, drinking water, and Olympic gold medals, but we do have democracy.”
― Aravind Adiga, The White Tiger

“I wept when the muse Ulla bent over me. Blinded by tears I could not prevent her from kissing me, I could not prevent the Muse from giving me that terrible kiss. All of you who have ever been kissed by the Muse will surely understand that Oskar, once branded by that kiss, was condemned to take back the drum he had rejected years before, the drum he had buried in the sand of Sapse Cemetery.”
― Günter Grass, The Tin Drum

“Behaviour is a mirror in which every one displays his own image.”
― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

“Above all, do not lie to yourself. A man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point where he does not discern any truth either in himself or anywhere around him, and thus falls into disrespect towards himself and others. Not respecting anyone, he ceases to love, and having no love, he gives himself up to passions and coarse pleasures, in order to occupy and amuse himself, and in his vices reaches complete bestiality, and it all comes from lying continually to others and to himself. A man who lies to himself is often the first to take offense. It sometimes feels very good to take offense, doesn't it? And surely he knows that no one has offended him, and that he himself has invented the offense and told lies just for the beauty of it, that he has exaggerated for the sake of effect, that he has picked on a word and made a mountain out of a pea--he knows all of that, and still he is the first to take offense, he likes feeling offended, it gives him great pleasure, and thus he reaches the point of real hostility.”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

“What exclusively determines the magnitude of the value of any article is therefore the amount of labour socially necessary, or the labour-time socially necessary for its production.”
― Karl Marx, Capital: A Critique of Political Economy Volume 1

“Mead.
O sweet elixir,
Ye bless the lips and steal the wits.
 ”
― K. Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master

“Hours passed—or maybe days. It didn’t matter. The body adapted. But the mind—
The mind needed purpose.
      ”
― D.L. Maddox, THE DOG WALKER: THE PREQUEL

“Cairo.
In Rustum Buildings, the location of the SOE’s Balkan Desk, Leonora, Countess Malkovic, looked up from the decrypted message that had just arrived on her desk. English by birth, married to a Serbian count, she had been seconded to work there because of her intimate knowledge of Serbia and her ability to speak the language.”
― Holly Green, A Call to Home

“He stares wide eyed as I finish. “I have never heard of such magick.” 
”
― Tricia Copeland, To be a Fae Guardian

“Get up you lazy bastard. The Governor wants a word with you,” said a guard. 
He opened his eyes and smiled. There was another guard standing near the cell door in 
anticipation of any trouble. The prisoner smiled at him, too. 
Now what can the Governor want from me? He wondered. His dishevelled form seemed 
incapable of coherent thought. “It’s nice of him to remember me,” he said aloud, trying to 
concentrate.
“Surprising he’s got any time for a worthless shit like you,” said the first guard. 
“I once used to be a very important person,” the prisoner said feebly.”
― Max Nowaz, The Arbitrator

“At least once every human should have to run for his life, to teach him that milk does not come from supermarkets, that safety does not come from policemen, that 'news' is not something that happens to other people. He might learn how his ancestors lived and that he himself is no different--in the crunch his life depends on his agility, alertness, and personal resourcefulness.”
― Robert A. Heinlein

“Poor William!" said he, "dear lovely child, he now sleeps with his angel mother! Who that had seen him bright and joyous in his young beauty, but must weep over his untimely loss! To die so miserably; to feel the murderer's grasp! How much more a murderer, that could destroy such radiant innocence! Poor little fellow! one only consolation have we; his friends mourn and weep, but he is at rest. The pang is over, his sufferings are at an end for ever. A sod covers his gentle form, and he knows no pain. He can no longer be a subject for pity; we must reserve that for his miserable survivors.”
― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein