Sebastian Faulks Quotes
As he rounded the corner, he saw two dozen men, naked to the waist, digging a hole thirty yards square at the side of the path. For a moment he was baffled. It seemed to have no agricultural purpose; there was no more planting or ploughing to be done. Then he realized what it was. They were digging a mass grave. He thought of shouting an order to about turn or at least to avert their eyes, but they were almost on it, and some of them had already seen their burial place. The songs died on their lips and the air was reclaimed by the birds.
Quotes to Explore
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Right now, I'm not really thinking about marriage.
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If one has curiosity, then one stands the chance of attain a high level of scientific inquiry.
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I like buying iTunes. It's instant.
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I did notice growing up that there are so many things, obstacles and things, that people think you can't do because you're Muslim or because you're wearing a hijab. You hear a lot of no's. That was something that I wanted to see change.
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A low voter turnout is an indication of fewer people going to the polls.
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Actually, my dog I think is the only person who consistently loves me all the time.
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Sometimes some of these little side excursions are useful and I manage to fit them in the book somewhere.
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Rap is the only interesting music left - it's the only genre that's still pushing itself, and experimenting in a way that I find exciting.
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In violent streets and broken homes, the cry of anguished souls is not for more laws but for more conscience and character.
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If your film is in English, it makes it that much easier to get a wide release.
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Delay is the deadliest form of denial.
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It has always been the task of formal education to set up behavior which would prove useful or enjoyable later in a student's life.
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Sometimes I don't know what takes me over during a game. Sometimes I just feel I have moved to a different place and I can make the pass, score the goal or go past my marker at will.
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This house has been far out at sea all night, The woods crashing through darkness, the booming hills, Winds stampeding the fields under the window Floundering black astride and blinding wet Till day rose; then under an orange sky The hills had new places, and wind wielded Blade-light, luminous black and emerald, Flexing like the lens of a mad eye.
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The people in my songs are all me.
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So I will find my fears and face themor I will cower like a dogI will kick and scream or kneel and pleadI'll fight like hell to hide that I've given up
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When I think about writers who use fiction as social commentary and to raise social awareness but who are also very popular, I think of Dickens.
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I don't really watch my moves all that often; I mean, really, I don't.
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I remember being a bathtub singer. You know, the type that sings and everybody's like, 'Shut up.'
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And all men are ready to pass judgement on the priest as if he was not a being clothed with flesh, or one who inherited a human nature.
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The image is one thing and the human being is another...it's very hard to live up to an image.
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Bones inside clothes. That was war to me.
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As he rounded the corner, he saw two dozen men, naked to the waist, digging a hole thirty yards square at the side of the path. For a moment he was baffled. It seemed to have no agricultural purpose; there was no more planting or ploughing to be done. Then he realized what it was. They were digging a mass grave. He thought of shouting an order to about turn or at least to avert their eyes, but they were almost on it, and some of them had already seen their burial place. The songs died on their lips and the air was reclaimed by the birds.
