Elizabeth George Speare Quotes
Quotes to Explore
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I make a lot of money and I'm worth every cent.
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I think that everything starts to go to hell when you start smelling your own farts and complimenting yourself on how great they smell. We're not going to turn into fart-smellers.
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My dad was always such a frustrated artist. He always worked very hard to support his family, doing a bunch of ridiculous jobs. He wanted to be a painter, but then he also wrote science-fiction novels in his spare time.
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Nobody walks this earth thinking he's better than I think I am - I think I'm great. At the same time, it's so obvious to me that I'm nobody.
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The Mississippi is not the only river. There's the Tallahatchie and the Big Black. People have been put in the river year after year, these things been happening.
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... some of my people could have been left [in Africa] and are living there. And I can't understand them and they don't know me and I don't know them because all we had was taken away from us. And I became kind of angry; I felt the anger of why this had to happen to us. We were so stripped and robbed of our background, we wind up with nothing.
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You know I'm not hung up on this liberating myself from the "black" man - I'm not going to try that thing.
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I would like to talk about some of the things that happened that made me know that there was something wrong in the south from a child.
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People will know you’re serious when you produce.
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There are no bad regiments, there are only bad officers.
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The local groceries are all out of broccoli, loccoli.
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The formula for a happy marriage is five positive remarks, or interactions, for every one negative.
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The rhythm of walking generates a kind of rhythm of thinking, and the passage through a landscape echoes or stimulates the passage through a series of thoughts. The creates an odd consonance between internal and external passage, one that suggests that the mind is also a landscape of sorts and that walking is one way to traverse it. A new thought often seems like a feature of the landscape that was there all along, as though thinking were traveling rather than making.
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I need wrong to get laughs. I need a normal world so that I can be abnormal, and that's my problem. Comedians need prejudice.
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A surging, seething, murmuring crowd of beings that are human only in name, for to the eye and ear they seem naught but savage creatures, animated by vile passions and by the lust of vengeance and of hate. The hour, some little time before sunset, and the place, the West Barricade, at the very spot where, a decade later, a proud tyrant raised an undying monument to the nation's glory and his own vanity.
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She nodded... and was about to turn away. Then, as if she thought better of it, she reached out and grabbed his arm. "Jack." "Yes?" "I. . ." she faltered. She knew what she wanted to tell him, but she couldn't bring herself to say the words. It turned out she didn't have to. Jack put a hand to his heart and nodded. "I feel the same way about you.
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Who is this irresistible creature who has an insatiable love for the dead?
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It used to be enough just to make a fairly decent product and market it. Not anymore. In the '90s, you've got to have a Corporate Soul.
