Literature Quotes - Page 53

Andy Warhol made fame more famous.

Never relinquish clothing to a hotel valet without first specifically telling him that you want it back.

Fiction stretches our sensibilities and our understanding, as mere information never can.

Professional reviewers read so many bad books in the course of duty that they get an unhealthy craving for arresting phrases.

The front-line soldier wants it to be got over by the physical process of his destroying enough Germans to end it. He is truly at war. The rest of us, no matter how hard we work, are not.

Craving, not having, is the mother of a reckless giving of oneself.

The individual who has to justify his existence by his own efforts is in eternal bondage to himself.

The pleasure we derive from doing favors is partly in the feeling it gives us that we are not altogether worthless. It is a pleasant surprise to ourselves.

After great pain, a formal feeling comes. The Nerves sit ceremonious, like tombs.

The innocent are so few that two of them seldom meet - when they do meet, their victims lie strewn all round.

I think the main thing, don't you, is to keep the show on the road.

Little minds are interested in the extraordinary; great minds in the commonplace.

What the mind cannot retain, the body will have to endure.

There are no small churches, just small people.

Peace is the umpire for doing the will of God.

We need literature because we wouldn’t fully know ourselves without it. We need good literature to be fully human.

A friend is worth all hazards we can run.

Perhaps too much of everything is as bad as too little.

It will be found, in fact, that the ingenious are always fanciful, and the truly imaginative never otherwise than analytic.

All of the troubles that some people have in life is that which they married into.

Life is easy to chronicle, but bewildering to practice.

The affair between Margot Asquith and Margot Asquith will live as one of the prettiest love stories in all literature.

There is a place where we are always alone with our own mortality, where we must simply have something greater than ourselves to hold onto-God or history or politics or literature or a belief in the healing power of love, or even righteous anger.... A reason to believe, a way to take the world by the throat and insist that there is more to this life than we have ever imagined.

Where would fashion be without literature?

So our student will flit like a busy bee through the entire garden of literature, light on every blossom, collect a little nectar from each, and carry it to his hive.