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101 " Hell is a library," she said, tightening her fresh knot." That really doesn't sound bad, Julia." " That's because I'm not finished. Hell is a library of books containing every word you've ever said, and videotapes of everything you've ever done." " So what. Do you have to watch them?" " No, you don't have to. But would you be able to help yourself? It would be unbearable. I couldn't resist, but I would hate myself after." She gave the noose two good, hard tugs. " Plus, even if you could resist the temptation, you'd eventually get so bored that you'd do anything. And the only thing to read is stuff that you've said and the only thing to do is watch yourself. "
102 " But every stroke of the brush, every lyric, every word whispered between human beings resulted from the pain of being alone. In our haunted heads, our imperfect bodies. Islands carved from clay and bone, our skulls like shells full of mist. "
― Leah Raeder , Cam Girl
103 " How would you start to write a poem? How would you put together a series of words for its first line—how would you know which words to choose? When you read a poem, every word seemed so perfect that it had to have been predestined—well, a good poem. "
― Ashley Hay , The Railwayman's Wife
104 " It does not need that a poem should be long. Every word was once a poem. "
― Ralph Waldo Emerson , The Poet
105 " It would be a word of empowerment, imagine every word coming from your mouth with a true desire to offer help to people knowing they are themselves powerful but need upliftment sometimes. "
― Harshada Pathare
106 " In this sublime hour, therefore, He calls all His children to the pulpit of the Cross, and every word He says to them is set down for the purpose of an eternal publication and an undying consolation. "
― Fulton J. Sheen
107 " I don't understand German myself. I learned it at school, but forgot every word of it two years after I had left, and have felt much better ever since. "
― Jerome K. Jerome , Three Men in a Boat (Three Men, #1)
108 " Miss Mackintosh waved her arms wildly." Oh, please stop, and let me guess," she cried. " I shall go crazy with joy if I'm right. It was an old Peerage, and so she found that Lady Deal was Helena Herman--" " Whom she had seen ten years ago at a music hall as a male impersonator," cried Diva." And didn't want to know her," interrupted Miss Mackintosh." Yes, that's it, but that is not all. I hope you won't mind, but it's too rich. She saw you this morning coming out of your house in your bath-chair, and was quite sure that you were that Lady Deal." The three ladies rocked with laughter. Sometimes one recovered, and sometimes two, but they were re-infected by the third, and so they went on, solo and chorus, and duet and chorus, till exhaustion set in." But there's still a mystery," said Diva at length, wiping her eyes. " Why did the Peerage say that Lady Deal was Helena Herman?" " Oh, that's the last Lady Deal," said Miss Mackintosh. " Helena Herman's Lord Deal died without children and Florence's Lord Deal, my Lady Deal, succeeded. Cousins." " If that isn't a lesson for Elizabeth Mapp," said Diva. " Better go to the expense of a new Peerage than make such a muddle. But what a long call we've made. We must go." " Florence shall hear every word of it to-morrow night," said Miss Mackintosh. " I promise not to tell her till then. We'll all tell her." " Oh, that is kind of you," said Diva." It's only fair. And what about Miss Mapp being told?" " She'll find it out by degrees," said the ruthless Diva. " It will hurt more in bits." " Oh, but she mustn't be hurt," said Miss Mackintosh. " She's too precious, I adore her." " So do we," said Diva. " But we like her to be found out occasionally. You will, too, when you know her. "
109 " she and Ben chattered away to each other in the language of mothers with their toddlers; the two understood every word exchanged, while the rest of the world just listened, smiled, and didn’t understand a single word of the happy gibberish. "
― William R. Forstchen , One Year After (After, #2)
110 " He knew he could worm his way beneath her defenses—he’d read every word of those diaries. He knew the one absolute way to fulfill her every dream. The problem was, could he do that to her? He didn’t have to. He could turn about this moment and ride away. Yet that would mean leaving her forever. "
― Celeste Bradley , One Night with a Spy (Royal Four, #3)
111 " Writing is draining. Every word is like lifting a stone and levering it into place. Your head aches, your muscles ache and every word you conjure up is heavier than the last one. "
― Chloe Thurlow , Katie in Love
112 " You quit? I thought you said it was too dangerous to quit, Alex. You said people who try to get out die." " I almost did. If it weren't for Gary Frankel, I probably wouldn't have made it. . . ." " Gary Frankel?" The nicest, geekiest guy in school? For the first time I scan Alex's face and see a faint, new scar above his eye and nasty ones by his ear and neck. " Oh, God! W-what did they d-do to you?" He takes my hand and places it on his chest. His eyes are intense and dark, like they were the first time I noticed him in the parking lot that first day of school senior year. " It took me a long time to realize I needed to fix everything The choices I made. The gang. Bein' beaten to within an inch of my life and branded like cattle was nothin' compared to losin' you. If I could take back every word I said in the hospital, I would. I thought if I pushed you away, I'd be protectin' you from what happened to Paco and my dad." He looks up and his eyes pierce mine. " I'll never push you away again, Brittany. Ever. I swear." Beaten? Branded? I'm feeling sick to my stomach and tears sting my eyes." Shh." He puts his arms around me, rubbing his hands across my back. " It's all right. I'm okay," he chants over and over again, his voice catching. "
113 " But the secret of good writing is to strip every sentence to its cleanest components. Every word that serves no function, every long words that could be a short word, every adverb that carries the same meaning that's already in the verb. every passive construction that leaves the reader unsure of who is doing what-these are the thousand and one adulterants that weaken the strength of a sentence. And they usually occur in proportion to education and rank. "
― William Zinsser , On Writing Well: The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction
114 " Be daring, take on anything. Don’t labor over little cameo works in which every word is to be perfect. Technique holds a reader from sentence to sentence, but only content will stay in his mind. "
― Joyce Carol Oates
115 " Words can be said but it's the attitude that defines their value. Attitude is the anchor of every word we say or everything we do. "
― Euginia Herlihy
116 " I read this over today, for the first time since I wrote it. It's full of nostalgia, every word loaded with it, although at the time I wrote it I thought I was being 'objective.' Nostalgia for what? I don't know. Because I'd rather die than have to live through any of that again. And the 'Anna' of that time is like an enemy, or like an old friend one has known too well and doesn't want to see. "
― Doris Lessing , The Golden Notebook
117 " Military leadership is a journey, not a destination. It is continually challenged, and must continually prove it self anew against fresh obstacles. Sometimes those obstacles are external events. Other times they are the doubts of those being led. Still other times they are a result of the leaders's own failures and shortcomings.Political power and influence are different. Once certain levels have been reached, there is no need to prove leadership or competence. A person with such power is accustomed to having every word carefully considere, and every whim treated as an order. And all who recognize that power know to bow to it.A few have the courage or the foolishness to resist. Some succeed in standing firm against the storm. More often, they find their paths yet again turned form their hopes for goal. "
118 " Acid filled Sara’s mouth.It wasn’t fair.That’s what Sara wanted to say. To scream at the top of her lungs.It just wasn’t fair.Lena wasn’t strong. She would bend, not break. She would recover from this tragedy the same easy way she recovered from every other tragedy before.Even if she lost Jared, Lena would always know what it felt like to have his child growing inside of her. She could always hold her baby’s hand and think of holding Jared’s. She could see her child laugh and learn and grow and play sports and do school projects and graduate from college and Lena would always, always remember her husband. She would see Jared in her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. On her deathbed, she would find peace in the knowledge that they had made something beautiful together. That even in death, they would both go on living.“Sara,” Faith said. “What’s happening here?”Sara wiped her eyes, angry that she was back in the same dark place she’d started at this morning. “Why does everything come so damn easy to her?” She struggled to speak. Her throat clenched around every word that wanted to come out of her mouth. “Everything just opens up, and she always walks through unscathed and—” Sara had to stop for breath. “It’s just so easy for her. She always has it so goddamn easy. "
― Karin Slaughter , Unseen (Will Trent, #7)
119 " Beside him Mr. Harris folded his morning newspaper and held it out to Claude." Seen this yet?" " No." " Don't read it," Mr. Harris said, folding the paper once more and sliding it under his rear. " It will only upset you, son." " It's a wicked paper... " Claude agreed, but Mr. Harris was overspeaking him." It's the big black words that do it. The little grey ones don't matter very much, they're just fill-ins they take everyday from the wires. They concentrate their poison in the big black words, where it will radiate.Of course if you read the little stories too you've got sure proof that every word they wrote above, themselves, was a fat black lie, but by then you've absorbed a thousand greyer ones, and where and how to check on those? This way the mind deteriorates. The best way you can save yourself is not to read it, son." " No, I... " " That's right, if you're not careful," Mr. Harris went on, blue-eyed, red-faced, " you find yourself pretty soon hating everyone but God, the Babe, and a few dead senators. That's no fun. Men aren't so bad as that." " No." " That's right, you begin to worry about anyone who opens his mouth except to say ho it looks like rain, let's bowl. Otherwise you wonder what the hell he's trying to prove, or undermine. If he asks what time it is, you wonder what terrible thing is scheduled to happen, where it will happen, when. You can't even stand to be asked how you feel today - he's probably looking at the bumps on you, they may have grown more noticeable overnight. Soon you feel you should apologize for standing there where he can watch you dying in front of him, he'd rather for you to carry your head around in a little plaid bag, like your bowling ball. There's no joy in that. Men aren't so very bad." Mr. Harris paused to remove his Panama hat. Water seeped from his knobby forehead, which he mopped with a damp handkerchief. " I've offended you, son," he said." Not at all, I entirely agree with you." Mr. Harris replaced his hat, folded his handkerchief." I shouldn't shoot off this way," he said. " I read too much." " No, no. You're right... "
120 " Girls, you listen to every word your mamma is saying, cause the only way you'll ever get a better piece of chicken is if you're a rooster. "
― Brynn Myers , The Life & Death of Jorja Graham (Jorja Graham #1)
