Christian Cook Famous Quotes
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Anya's final sweep of the bow was as if she had delivered the coup de grâce in a sword duel. The last note reverberated around the empty theatre until only the white noise from the speakers remained, lapping back in like a gentle wave.
It was probably the most beautiful rendition I had heard her perform, but there was no applause; there was only silence.
I flicked my eyes across to Malcolm, the theatre director, but his gaze was transfixed on a particular seat. Even Anya, rigid and breathless with the violin at her side, was staring at that same seat.
He never raised a hand to us. He always said that inflicting pain, even as a last resort, was a sign that intelligence had been exhausted. He said smacking just passed on violence as an inheritance. But he was not soft with his words; when he called you to order, it pulled you up sharp. It wasn't just a case of not teaching children to hit out. He believed the far more important lesson for the child was to realise that there are always words. However bad a child's behaviour, there were always more words; the time to stop talking was never a point he would reach.
Your friends and family aren't your audience and neither should they be.
Everything you have is now worth nothing and yet nothing, true nothing, is worth everything to you. For a man covered in shameful lies, to suddenly possess nothing would be a luxury. If you cannot even grasp the true value of nothing then how can you possibly appreciate the cost of all the shiny trinkets weighing down your feeble life?
When you stop viewing chaos as an end state to be avoided and start viewing it as the beginning and ongoing default state of most things in life then that becomes something that is either terrifying or incredibly liberating.
Brake lights, brake lights, brake lights; a domino topple of red stop lights ripples back from some non-event up ahead. Some idiot blew his nose too abruptly and a Mexican wave of mini traffic lights all went red in neat little pairs.
There are no green lights on a motorway to tell you that you can go. You just go when you can. Another short burst of hemmed in freedom until the next tsunami of 'stop' floods the road.
