Becky Sharp Quotes

I refused to have bookshelves, horrified that I'd feel compelled to organise the books in some regimented system - Dewey or alphabetical or worse - and so the books lived in stacks, some as tall as me, in the most subjective order I could invent.
Thus Nabokov lived between Gogol and Hemingway, cradled between the Old World and the New; Willa Cather and Theodore Dreiser and Thomas Hardy were stacked together not for their chronological proximity but because they all reminded me in some way of dryness (though in Dreiser's case I think I was focused mainly on his name): George Eliot and Jane Austen shared a stack with Thackeray because all I had of his was Vanity Fair, and I thought that Becky Sharp would do best in the presence of ladies (and deep down I worried that if I put her next to David Copperfield, she might seduce him). ~ Rebecca Makkai

Ah, but you're the insidious type
Jane Eyre with of touch of Becky Sharp. A thoroughly dangerous girl. ~ Dodie Smith

Perhaps the ache of homesickness was a fair price to pay for having so many good people in her life. ~ Becky Chambers

The music that of common speech but slanted so that each detail sounds unexpected as a sharp inserted in a simple scale. ~ Dana Gioia

I want to be open to the kids who only speak Spanish, the kids who speak only Spanglish, and the kids who don't even speak Spanish at all. ~ Becky G

We're going to kick butt at the competition, Tessie, and when we win I promise I'll let you bash my brother's head in with the trophy." I chuckle at his enthusiasm and shake my head. "It's not a wrestling match, Stone, it's a beauty pageant, and my trophy will most likely be a plastic tiara." "Well don't those things have sharp pointy combs? You can dig them into his eye or something." "You have a really twisted mind, you know that?" "Thank you, shortcake. ~ Blair Holden

Had he stood outside my door as I'd stood outside his, fists at his sides, lips drawn back? Did it have him as bad as it had me? Was it eating at him, gnawing at him with the same sharp vicious little teeth that wouldn't let me sleep?
Yes, it was. I could see the rage of insatiable uninvited lust in every line of that dark, stoic face that had once been too subtly etched for me to read. I wasn't the only one lying awake at night, fevered with memories, tossing, turning, soaking my sheets, burning up
not for Fae sex, but him, damn it all to hell, him. ~ Karen Marie Moning

Imagine This

Life is not a bowl of cherries
Ignore what's in the song
It's not a bowl of things at all
The song you see, is wrong
Think of it as rhubarb
And don't forget the custard
A mixture of the sharp and sweet
And a word to say when flustered. ~ Robbie Franklin

I kept my head down and my mouth full. I didn't want Frankie's sharp eyes or tongue focused on me any more than necessary. It was a lot easier with Daniel taking up half of the food and most of the air.
"What about it, Ella?" he asked when everything was gone except the parsley garnish. "When do we get the pleasure of your vocal stylings?"
"I don't sing."
"You mean you won't sng," Sadie corrected. I tried to be charitable about her treason; she goes pretty brainless around Daniel. "Ella sings really well."
"I'm sure she does." Daniel tipped his beer glass in my direction. "In fact, I bet she could totally murder 'Don't Stop Believin'." A song that is actually one of my guilty pleasures. I think he probably knew that. I think he probably had himself a lovely chuckle over it.Then he whispered, "Coward."
In another story, the plucky little heroine would have slapped both hands onto the table, making it wobble a little on its predicatbly uneven fourth leg. She would then have taken both hands, ripped the long scarf from around her neck and, chin high and scar spotlit, stalked to the dais, leaped up, and slayed the audience with her kick-ass version of "Respect." Or maybe "Single Ladies," for the sheer Yay factor.
In this version,I gave Daniel what I hoped was a slayer look and busied myself refolding my napkin.
He was,not surprisingly, unfazed. "Can I ask you a question?"
I sighed. "Will my answer to that one make any difference?"
"Non ~ Melissa Jensen

I'll never understand how the rest of you expect brand-new adults to be able to teach kids how to be people. ~ Becky Chambers

The world comes to us in fragments and shards. Whatever stories we shape from our days, we're always dealing with gaps, blank-spots, and blackouts - and in handling all these breakages, we are, at all times, so incredibly intimate with sharp edges, the unending knife-like moments of failure and joy in our lives. ~ Alex Lemon

She probably thinks Troye Sivan's songs are about girls. ~ Becky Albertalli

There's just something about this kind of moment--this tiny thread connecting me to a total stranger. It's the kind of thing that makes the universe feel smaller. ~ Becky Albertalli

Margaret, the eldest of the four, was sixteen, and very pretty, being plump and fair, with large eyes, plenty of soft brown hair, a sweet mouth, and white hands, of which she was rather vain. Fifteen-year-old Jo was very tall, thin, and brown, and reminded one of a colt, for she never seemed to know what to do with her long limbs, which were very much in her way. She had a decided mouth, a comical nose, and sharp, gray eyes, which appeared to see everything, and were by turns fierce, funny, or thoughtful. Her long, thick hair was her one beauty, but it was usually bundled into a net, to be out of her way. Round shoulders had Jo, big hands and feet, a flyaway look to her clothes, and the uncomfortable appearance of a girl who was rapidly shooting up into a woman and didn't like it. Elizabeth, or Beth, as everyone called her, was a rosy, smooth-haired, bright-eyed girl of thirteen, with a shy manner, a timid voice, and a peaceful expression which was seldom disturbed. Her father called her 'Little Miss Tranquility', and the name suited her excellently, for she seemed to live in a happy world of her own, only venturing out to meet the few whom she trusted and loved. Amy, though the youngest, was a most important person, in her own opinion at least. A regular snow maiden, with blue eyes, and yellow hair curling on her shoulders, pale and slender, and always carrying herself like a young lady mindful of her manners. What the characters of the four sisters were we will leave to be ~ Louisa May Alcott

Feeling my own humiliation in my heart like the sharp prick of a needle. ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Learning is the ecstasy of life which keeps our hearts young and our minds sharp. ~ Debasish Mridha

I was raised in church, Gray. If you'd asked me during my wildest phases if I was a Christian, I'd have told you I was. But there was a disconnect there.
You're judging me.
No, I'm calling it like it is, unlike most of the people you know, who would all agree with you if you said the sky is red. ~ Becky Wade

There are no more barriers to cross. All I have in common with the uncontrollable and the insane, the vicious and the evil, all the mayhem I have caused and my utter indifference toward it I have now surpassed. My pain is constant and sharp and I do not hope for a better world for anyone, in fact I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no one to escape, but even after admitting this there is no catharsis, my punishment continues to elude me and I gain no deeper knowledge of myself; no new knowledge can be extracted from my telling. This confession has meant nothing. ~ Bret Easton Ellis

The Hanlin named his granddaughter Lustrous Jade, for jade was the fairest of stones and possessed five virtues: charity, for its lustre; rectitude, for its translucence; wisdom, for its purity of sound when struck; equity, for its sharp edges that injure none; courage, for it can be broken but not bent. ~ Bette Bao Lord

He was always smoothing and polishing himself, and in the end he became blunt before he was sharp. ~ Georg C. Lichtenberg

Okay. I have a crush. But it's not like having a crush on some random musician or actor or Harry freaking Potter. This is the real deal. It has to be. It's almost debilitating. ~ Becky Albertalli

Sometimes love takes you by the hand and leads you to run through fields of flowers while butterflies weave you a dress out of rainbows. Other times, love takes you by the throat and chokes you until all you see is the bright, sharp trail of shooting stars right before everything turns to black. The problem is, you can never tell in advance which way the story ends, not until you're too far into it, and you have no choice but to keep turning the pages. ~ Megan Hart

I lie in my bed and think about poking something sharp into my skin. To see if it will hurt, to see if I'll bleed, to test whether I'm still alive. I don't though. For one, because moving means effort. Two, because I'm afraid if [I] start bleeding that I won't stop myself from draining all life from my body. Or worse, that I will. ~ Janet Gurtler

Gossip, unless aimed or honed sharp like a weapon, was natural to human beings. It showed interestin oe's fellows, interest in the well being of the tribe. "Gossip was a way to learn taboos, pass on warnings, share the burden fo being human among many so the onus of bearing it alone would fall on no one person. " Molly said. From an Anna Pigeon Novel ~ Nevada Barr

Sharp angles make his face hard but that's nothing compared to what his eyes hold. ~ Stephanie Fleshman

Sometimes something as simple as a phone call can snap you like a twig, break you into sharp halves so that you can't even feel your own heartbeat. ~ Elaine Hussey

Then this is for you," Galahad said, and drew a knife from the pouch at his belt. It was an odd little thing, T-hilted and small enough to fit into a woman's hand. Its translucent blade, only an inch and a half long, was bound with scrolling bronze wire to the bone hilt. "Have a care. Obsidian is sharper than anything else in the world, sharp enough to make sunlight bleed. ~ Suzannah Rowntree

I sit alone in a dead world. The wind blows hot and dry, and the dust gathers like particles of memory waiting to be swept away. I pray for forgetfulness, yet my memory remains strong, as does the outstretched arm of the oppressive air. It seems as if the wind has been there since the beginning of the nightmare. Sometimes loud and harsh, a thousand sharp needles scratching at my reddened skin. Sometimes a whisper, a curious sigh in the black of night, of words more frightening than pain. I know now the wind has been speaking to me. Only I couldn't understand because I was too scared. I am scared now as I write these words. Still, there is nothing else to do. ~ Christopher Pike

Maybe I'd have spent a little less time watching the action from the back of the auditorium. Maybe I'd have spent more time making out in the back of the auditorium. ~ Becky Albertalli

Rough edges were what you needed because they were what you sharpened yourself against. Nobody ever got sharp from lying in a feather bed. ~ M.R. Carey

Having sharp, great knives will enable you to cook very precisely. Knife skills are essential in cooking. ~ Eric Ripert

Things are simply the way they are. They don't give us suffering. Like a thorn: Does a sharp thorn give us suffering? No. It's simply a thorn. It doesn't give suffering to anybody. If
we step on it, we suffer immediately.
Why do we suffer? Because we
stepped on it. So the suffering comes from us. ~ Ajahn Chah

Just because you're unemployed doesn't mean you're not doing anything useful. You are, for example, at least keeping your mother-in-law's wit sharp. ~ Marilyn Vos Savant

Michael Koryta is that rare author who is at once a compelling story teller and a fantastic writer. From the first sentence of THOSE WHO WISH ME DEAD, you'll be under his spell. His characters are living, breathing people you'll care about; his setting is a place you'll visit and stay-long after you've decided to leave because you're scared. You can't leave; you're trapped. There are too many nerve-jangling, beautifully written, razor sharp moments and you won't want to miss a single one. This is an absolute sizzler. ~ Lisa Unger

Now holler at me if you're ready to have a Rossumly awesome time. State District Forty is about to get hella canvassed, and I am so here for it." He pounds a fist in the air.

It's like watching your oldest, cringiest teacher try to win over the class with slang they googled during their planning period. And I'm pretty sure Gabe being only twenty-three makes it worse. ~ Becky Albertalli

When you lose a customer, it can be tempting to tell each other, "That customer's not very sharp. They just made the wrong decision". ~ Bill Gates

At the stomp of boots on grass, I ease my eyes open. Aithinne leans down with a grin. "You didn't die. See? I told you it was easy." She offers me a hand and I take it, rising unsteadily to my feet.

"I've been bitten by some demonic woodland creature. My legs have been shredded by razor-sharp trees. We almost died. Easy? I'm getting you a damn dictionary."

I inspect my bleeding arm. The cut bisects five of the marks Lonnrach made, and I feel inexplicably proud of that. Good. Replace the old, bad memories with new badges. Start over.

"A dictionary," she repeats. "Is that a type of dessert?"

For the love of - "It's a type of book that explains the meaning of words."

"Oh. That sounds terribly dull. I was really hoping for dessert."

I'm hoping to end this rescue with my sanity intact. ~ Elizabeth May

Focus.
Such a little word for such a hard thing and yet it can make things so simple, unless you break it. Like glass.
Fragile on certain points with enough pressure ore carelessness, but if handled correctly, it's useful, clear, sharp, and perfect.
That's what I will try to think about, whenever the Beast in me is not in agreement with what I am doing, or how I am behaving, when it threatens to break free, through that very same glass that separates us.
I need to be exactly like this window: smooth, cool, strong, and impenetrable.
Focus. ~ D.S. Wrights

Most people in the ancient world, did not make a sharp distinction between myth and reality. The two were intimately tied together in their spiritual experience. That is to say, they were less interested in what actually happened, than in what it meant. It would have been perfectly normal, indeed expected, for a writer in the ancient world, to tell tales of gods and heroes, whose fundamental facts would have been recognized as false, but whose underlying message would have been seen as true. ~ Reza Aslan

The mere seeing of Miss Sara would have been enough without meat pies. If there was time only for a few words, they were always friendly, merry words that put heart into one ... Sara
who was only doing what she unconsciously liked better than anything else, Nature having made her for a giver
had not the least idea what she meant to poor Becky, and how wonderful a benefactor she seemed. ~ Frances Hodgson Burnett