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1 " Why am I compelled to write?... Because the world I create in the writing compensates for what the real world does not give me. By writing I put order in the world, give it a handle so I can grasp it. I write because life does not appease my appetites and anger... To become more intimate with myself and you. To discover myself, to preserve myself, to make myself, to achieve self-autonomy. To dispell the myths that I am a mad prophet or a poor suffering soul. To convince myself that I am worthy and that what I have to say is not a pile of shit... Finally I write because I'm scared of writing, but I'm more scared of not writing. "
― Gloria E. Anzaldúa
2 " Death: " THERE ARE BETTER THINGS IN THE WORLD THAN ALCOHOL, ALBERT." Albert: " Oh, yes, sir. But alcohol sort of compensates for not getting them. "
3 " All true histories contain instruction; though, in some, the treasure may be hard to find, and when found, so trivial in quantity, that the dry, shriveled kernel scarcely compensates for the trouble of cracking the nut. "
― Anne Brontë , Agnes Grey
4 " Perhaps the rare and simple pleasure of being seen for what one is compensates for the misery of being it. "
― Margaret Drabble
5 " he [Llewelyn Powys] has always in mind the great touchstone Death & consequently life is always judged as how far it fits us, or compensates us, for ultimately dying. "
― Philip Larkin , Philip Larkin: Letters to Monica
6 " To know that one does not write for the other, to know that these things I am going to write will never cause me to be loved by the one I love (the other), to know that writing compensates for nothing, sublimates nothing, that it is precisely there where you are not--this is the beginning of writing. "
― Roland Barthes , A Lover's Discourse: Fragments
7 " Tom Cruise isn't that big of a guy," my mom always says. I love how she tries to avoid using the word " short." Yeah," I tell her in return, " but he compensates by being Tom Cruise." Not that anyone really wants to BE Tom Cruise anymore now that he's a crazy couch jumper. But whatever. "
8 " God is like a lover. Sometimes he gives you so much pain that staying alive seems like a punishment but in the next moment he shows you so much love, affection and care that you forget all your pains. Yes, the wounds can’t be healed completely but god compensates it with other happiness. "
― Mayank Kashyap , The Forbidden Line
9 " While you keep ageing, your experience compensates for your lost brain power. "
― Amit Kalantri
10 " Say farewell to luck when winning. It is the way of the gamblers of reputation. Quite as important as a gallant advance is a well-planned retreat. Lock up your winnings when they are enough, or when great. Continuous luck is always suspect; more secure is that which changes. Though half bitter and half sweet, it is more satisfying to the taste. The more luck pyramids, the greater the danger of slip and collapse. For luck always compensates her intensity by her brevity. Fortune wearies of carrying anyone long upon her shoulders. "
― Baltasar Gracián , The Art of Worldly Wisdom
11 " It slowly dawns on me what it is, the sensation that has bridged the gap between how I saw the world yesterday and how I see it today. It compensates for my lost keenness and even makes everything around me a little brighter. Hope. "
― Jessica Khoury , Origin (Corpus, #1)
12 " If we hadn’t our bewitching autumn foliage, we should still have to credit the weather with one feature which compensates for all its bullying vagaries-the ice storm: when a leafless tree is clothed with ice from the bottom to the top – ice that is as bright and clear as crystal; when every bough and twig is strung with ice-beads, frozen dew-drops, and the whole tree sparkles cold and white, like the Shah of Persia’s diamond plume. Then the wind waves the branches and the sun comes out and turns all those myriads of beads and drops to prisms that glow and burn and flash with all manner of colored fires, which change and change again with inconceivable rapidity from blue to red, from red to green, and green to gold-the tree becomes a spraying fountain, a very explosion of dazzling jewels; and it stands there the acme, the climax, the supremest possibility in art or nature, of bewildering, intoxicating, intolerable magnificence. One cannot make the words too strong. "
― Mark Twain
