Elena Ferrante Quotes
The angel of death, she said proudly, touched me when I was a child, with the exact same illness as now, but I screwed him, even though I was just a girl. And you'll see, I'll screw him again, because I know how to suffer. I learned at the age of ten, I haven't stopped since. And if you know how to suffer, the angel respects you, after a while he goes away. As she spoke she pulled up her dress and showed me the injured leg like the relic of an old battle. She smacked it, observing me with a fixed half-smile on her lips and terrified eyes.
Quotes to Explore
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From the sons of Ith, the first of the Gael to get his death in Ireland, there came in the after time Fathadh Canaan, that got the sway over the whole world from the rising to the setting sun, and that took hostages of the streams and the birds and the languages.
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That's sort of like asking a parent who their favorite child is. It's very hard to determine. Sometimes I'll get feedback from somebody who liked this part of the show. Others like another part of the show.
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Sex and death, the magnetic poles of fiction, attract us children's writers no less than adult authors, but we have to be more leery of their pull.
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Training a puppy is like raising a child. Every single interaction is a training opportunity.
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In this decisive hour of our national history, union means life and division means death.
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Safe storage and child access prevention laws are critical steps as we seek to reduce the occurrence of accidental shootings and suicides involving guns.
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There is absolutely no doubt about it, and I may not be the one that does it, but the cloned child is coming. There is absolutely no way that it will not happen.
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In an artwork you're always looking for artistic decisions, so an ashtray is perfect. An ashtray has got life and death.
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I doubt that the imagination can be suppressed. If you truly eradicated it in a child, he would grow up to be an eggplant.
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A changeling is one child substituted for another. I couldn't find anything more apt. We had to kind of fight that supernatural element in the publicity, and I offered to try and find another title, but Clint liked it, and it stayed.
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If you are truly serious abut preparing your child for the future, don't teach him to subtract teach him to deduct.
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Biography lends to death a new terror.
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I've been doing extremely dangerous activities for a long time, but I've been lucky enough to have survived so far. However, sooner or later we all die... and, if that's the case, I want to die doing what I love to do the most. That's how I view death.
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It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child.
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What having a Down's syndrome child isn't - and I feel very strongly about this - is a tragedy. All those pregnancy books you read when you are expecting refer to Down's syndrome as if it were the worst possible outcome, and it's not.
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Death does not exist.
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People with children will know this: when the childcare is over, it's over on the dot. You immediately have to go into child mode; there's no down time.
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I'm not supposed to be able to speak clearly, and decipher what's going on in the media. I'm supposed to be the typical amateur who's 22 and scared to death and can't believe he won the Olympics.
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Not one death but many, not accumulation but change, the feed-back proves, the feed-back is the law
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For fiction, I'm not particularly nationalistic. I'm not like the Hugo Chavez of Latin American letters, you know? I want people to read good work.
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I hope I don't just sit around moping for two years.
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There's actually an incredible amount of parallels between working in central Congo in a remote, isolated village and doing research aboard the space station.
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The angel of death, she said proudly, touched me when I was a child, with the exact same illness as now, but I screwed him, even though I was just a girl. And you'll see, I'll screw him again, because I know how to suffer. I learned at the age of ten, I haven't stopped since. And if you know how to suffer, the angel respects you, after a while he goes away. As she spoke she pulled up her dress and showed me the injured leg like the relic of an old battle. She smacked it, observing me with a fixed half-smile on her lips and terrified eyes.
