Descubrieron A Una Quotes

We are our own worst enemy. ~ Una McCormack

There are always two sides to a story. ~ Una McCormack

Carol's life seemed sad in an Eleanor Rigby kind of way. ~ Una Tiers

But you know, there is nothing to be afraid of in the dark... That doesn't also exist in the light. ~ Una

Everyone was poor, but it was out in the open, not tucked out of sight below bridges. ~ Una McCormack

The Prime Directive is a nice ideal, but have you noticed it never works in practice? ~ Una McCormack

No true friendship takes account of credit and debt. It gives freely, without thought of compensation or reward. ~ Una McCormack

Not all journeys seek an end. Some are their own purpose. ~ Una McCormack

Be brave. Be bold. Don't wait for change. Seize your own life and make it. ~ Una McCormack

The way you act can sometimes be totally different from the way you actually are. ~ Una LaMarche

You have to educate people first - you can't let them go out and vote for whatever they want! You don't know what you'd end up with! ~ Una McCormack

And I'm not sure if it's G-d, or fate, or just air masses colliding over water, but I will say this: It feels, finally, like flying. ~ Una LaMarche

There was another slut in my school, I heard some boys shout it at her in the corridor. I never got to talk to her about it, but I thought she was beautiful. ~ Una

Women come in many colours - black, white, brown, yellow, red when hot, blue when cold, green when sick, multicoloured when unwell and orange when on a night out. In some countries they even come in invisible. ~ Una Mullally

Whatever your beliefs, women always have and will continue to have abortions. Abortions for medical reasons or for unwanted pregnancies, women need this choice. I swear, if men could have babies, there'd be an abortion app. ~ Una Mullally

But one of the cruelties of teenagehood is that you'll never know what your parents were really like at your age, and they'll never accurately remember - not enough to empathize, anyway . . . maybe just enough for pity. ~ Una LaMarche

Tell me what this means," Dax said. "I'm a busy woman with a ship to run and a crisis to handle and I've surrounded myself with smart, dedicated people for the sole purpose of interpreting unintelligible squiggles for me. ~ Una McCormack

Why do I feel as if I'm about to hear a sentence passed?'

'Why do you feel as if you should? ~ Una McCormack

Something my mom likes to say when she's up on her equal-opportunity soapbox floats through my head: People have enough reasons not to like you just based on how you look; don't give them any more based on how you act. ~ Una LaMarche

Men are no more immune from emotions than women; we think women are more emotional because the culture lets them give free vent to certain feelings, "feminine" ones, that is, no anger please, but it's okay to turn on the waterworks. ~ Una Stannard

Plus, he was funny, with that almost imperceptible edge of sadness that's like catnip to anyone with a double-X chromosome. Throughout our years of friendship, Adam always had some not-quite-thing going on with some not-quite-right girl. He had a knack for making everyone feel close to him, when no one really was. ~ Una LaMarche

This was the kind of guy who should be someone's first love. Someone who brought you flowers and refilled your water glass without your having to ask. Someone who watched you across the crowded rooms just to make sure you were okay. Someone who loved you quietly from a distance, without pressuring you or wanting you to change. ~ Una LaMarche

It was Una," he said hoarsely. "He couldn't get over Una. He told me how a man, a real man, had no right to let sorrow destroy him. He told me again and again how I must believe that time would take care of it. He said it so often that I knew he was losing. ~ John Steinbeck

Given that my first crush was a mythical centaur hybrid of Garrison Keillor and Ted Danson, you won't be surprised to learn that I was a late bloomer. There were other indicators, too, like my troll doll earring collection and the fact that I was naturally drawn to gorgeous best friends who transformed me, by comparison, into the homely sidekick (in troll doll earrings ~ Una LaMarche

And now all this rot about invisible injuries and interrupting Prince Gervais as he and I don't see what business it is of I can do what I like and I think you're simply and that's that!
Una paused there, wondering if what she'd just said had made a lick of sense. Judging from Prince Aethelbald's face, it hadn't. ~ Anne Elisabeth Stengl

I keep my chin tucked in, eyes on the ground, the same stance I have when I pass by the guys from my neighborhood who laugh and call me Urkel because I wear a big backpack and don't hang out on the street all night smoking Kool XLs--and by the way, we need a new black nerd archetype; also, when are these wannabe gangstas watching reruns of Family Matters? ~ Una LaMarche

It's a scientific fact that there are only a handful of jobs you're allowed to have if you're one of the leads in a romantic comedy: dog walker, architect, kindergarten teacher, cupcake chef, florist, special needs veterinarian, suspiciously well-paid magazine writer, and independent bookstore owner. So it stands to reason that the likelihood of meeting your soul mate in one is high. ~ Una LaMarche

But it was all lies! If Tret and Colat and the rest are going to be the next generation of political leaders, why tell them lies? If they don't hear the truther, they'll think that nothing wrong happened! Tret thinks that nothing about Cardassia is wrong! He, his friends --they'll make the same mistakes over and over again. The Occupation will happen over and over again! ~ Una McCormack

The hipster contingent has taken over a lot of the commercial streets, and now you can't go two blocks without running into some up-its-own-ass artisanal shop with a name that's just two random nouns thrown together with an ampersand. Satchel & Dove. Twig & Petal. Those are the places where you find out there's such a thing as boutique tarragon mayonnaise and that a baby onesie can legitimately cost sixty dollars. (p.169) ~ Una LaMarche

I did films with Wanda Ventham, Benedict's mother, and we lived in the same area, in Kensington. So I'd be out with my pram and Wanda and I would be talking and there was poor little Benedict, who I suppose was about four, standing there while we were gossiping in the high street for hours! ~ Una Stubbs

A winter ago I had an after-school seminar for high-school students and in one of the early sessions Una, a brilliant fifteen-year-old, a born writer who came to Harlem from Panama five years ago, and only then discovered the conflict between races, asked me, "Mrs. Franklin, do you really and truly believe in God with no doubts at all?"
"Oh, Una, I really and truly believe in God with all kinds of doubts."
But I base my life on this belief. ~ Madeleine L'Engle

Ulick Norman Owen - Una Nancy Owen - each time, that is to say, U. N. Owen. Or by a slight stretch of fancy, UNKNOWN! ~ Agatha Christie

Una's death struck Samuel like a silent earthquake. He said no brave and reassuring words, he simply sat alone and rocked himself. ~ John Steinbeck

Hay una estrella mas abierta
que la palabra 'amapola'?
Is there a star more wide open
than the word 'poppy? ~ Pablo Neruda

She used to be all right, Una, when we were kids. I liked that she wasn't fussed about her antlers. ~ Kirsty Logan

But my head is splitting in two!"
"It's doing a remarkably neat job since I can't see so much as a seam. ~ Anne Elisabeth Stengl

Ricorda, se hai bisogno di una mano la troverai alla fine del tuo braccio.
Remember, if you need a hand you'll find it at the end of your arm. ~ Audrey Hepburn

His name was Anderson and he had little gift for communication. Like most technicians, he had a
terror and a contempt for speculation. The inductive leap was not for him. He dug a step and pulled himself up one single step, the way a man climbs the last shoulder of a mountain. He had great contempt, born of fear, for the Hamiltons, for they all half believed they had wings - and they got some bad falls that way.
Anderson never fell, never slipped back, never flew. His steps moved slowly, slowly upward, and in the end, it is said, he found what he wanted - color film. He married Una, perhaps, because she had little humor, and this reassured him. Una wrote bleak letters without joy but also without self-pity. She was well and she hoped her family was well. ~ John Steinbeck

...it's more meaningful to me to see women who don't necessarily need to articulate how they're feminists, they just exhibit it with everything they do.'
-Una, Twenty-five, Park Slope ~ Nona Willis Aronowitz

A thankful heart is not only the greatest virtue, but the parent of all the other virtues.
[Lat., Gratus animus est una virtus non solum maxima, sed etiam mater virtutum onmium reliquarum.] ~ Marcus Tullius Cicero

There are many ways to rule, many things required to be un hombre or to be una mujere, for each person can decide for himself. Sometimes you can even be both. Without having to choose one or the other ~ Mayra Santos-Febres

And practice this: 'Yo no soy una puta.'" Kyle said the words in an angry, accented voice.
Livia raised a sensitive, red, now-thin eyebrow at her sister.
"It means 'I am not a hooker' in Spanish. And you already know it in English, so you should be good. ~ Debra Anastasia

How the hell did you get to the cloister and back so fast?"

"I have a moose."

"A moose."

"Yeah, you know, big deer looking thing, likes water... antlers, well, not this moose, Una's female."

"I want a moose," Brede mumbled. ~ Sally Courtnix

Abbey: Did you speak to me in a different language? When I was in the hospital?
Caspian: Something to keep the nightmares at bay. To let you know I was there. Tu sei una stella ... la mia stella. It means 'You're a star. My star. ~ Jessica Verday

Una's face was an unbroken block of calculation, saving where, upon her upper lip, a little down of hair fluttered. Yet it gave one an uncanny feeling. It made one think of a tassel on a hammer. ~ Djuna Barnes

There was a man named Ofeig, nicknamed Grettir. He was the son of Einar, the son of Olvir the Babyman. He was a brother of Oleif the Broad, the father of Thormod Shaft. Another son of Olvir was named Steinolf, the father of Una, whom Thorbjorn the Salmon-man married. ~ Unknown

(Describing a whale killed during Una's maiden voyage) ... He was nearly twice the size of my sixty-barrel whale. Could the animal really be stowed below as small casks of oil? At your own death, I asked myself, can the vastness of your own experience be buried in the ground, funneled into nothing but the shape of a grave? ~ Sena Jeter Naslund

Madness to us means reversion; to such people as Una and Lena it meant progression. Now their uncle had entered into a land beyond them, the land of fancy. For fifty years he had been as they were, silent, hard-working, unimaginative. Then all of a sudden, like a scholar passing his degree, he had gone up into another form ... ~ Djuna Barnes

Tell me something from Spanish literature," Schiele said.
"I'll give you a line from my favorite novel. 'Los seres humanos no nacen para siempre el dia en que sus madres los alumbran, sino que la vida los obliga a parirse a si mismos una y otra vez.'"
("Humans are not born forever on the day their mothers have them; life necessitates giving birth to themselves over and over again.") ~ Gabrielle Zevin

Recuerdo que algún día yo le hablé de mi río
y una como tormenta se agitó en sus estrañas.
No sé si fue mi pecho que tembló de recuerdo
o si fueron mis ojos que asomaron nostalgias."

"I remember a day when I spoke of my river
and something like a storm stirred in his being.
Was it my breast that trembled with the memory
Was it nostalgia that showed through my eyes ~ Julia De Burgos

They were all there, squatted in the little open glade - Faith and Una, Jerry and Carl, Jem and Walter, Nan and Di, and Mary Vance. They had been having a special celebration, for it would be Jem's last evening in Rainbow Valley. On the morrow he would leave for Charlottetown to attend Queen's Academy. Their charmed circle would be broken; and, in spite of the jollity of their little festival, there was a hint of sorrow in every gay young heart. "See - there ~ L.M. Montgomery

I have always known
that you will visit my grave.
I see myself as a small brown bird,
perhaps a sparrow, watching you
from a low branch as you pray
in front of my name.
I will hear you
sound out my epitaph: Aqui descansa
una mujer que quiso volar.
You will recall telling me
that you once dreamed in Spanish,
and felt the words
lift you into flight.
The sound of wings
will startle you when you say "volar,"
and you will understand. ~ Judith Ortiz Cofer

The U.S-Mexican border es una herida abierta where the Third World grates against the first and bleeds. And before a scab forms it hemorrhages again, the lifeblood of two worlds merging to form a third country - a border culture.
Borders are set up to define the places that are safe and unsafe, to distinguish us from them. A border is a dividing line, a narrow strip along a steep edge. A borderland is a vague and undetermined place created by the emotional residue of an unnatural boundary. It is in a constant state of transition. The prohibited and forbidden are its inhabitants. ~ Gloria E Anzaldua

Una furtiva lacrima had been the only really beautiful thing in her life. Wiping away her own tears she tried to sing what she heard. But her voice was as crude and out of tune as she was. When she heard it she started to cry. It was the first time she'd ever cried, she didn't know she had so much water in her eyes. She cried, blew her nose no longer knowing what she was crying about. She wasn't crying because of the life she led: because, never having led any other, she'd accepted that with her that was just the way things were. But I also think she was crying because, through the music, she might have guessed there were other ways of feeling, there were more delicate existences and even a certain luxury of soul. ~ Clarice Lispector

What, in nature," Kit asked, "is the most beautiful thing you've seen? Or the most terrible?"
"The Dismals," Giles answered promptly. "A beautiful aberration in the lay of the land
North Alabama. A section mysteriously lowered, strewn with boulders, ferny, mossy, cooler
the vegetation, they say, typical of Canada. There the creek runs clear, but all other Alabama rivers and waterways are muddy with sediment. I even like the name
the Dismals. An eternal place, disjunct with the climate, the time, and its location."
"You think being dismal is an attractive association with eternity?" I asked.
"It is a cool Eden in the Southern summer heat. What's yours, Una?"
"The Kentucky hills in spring. Layers of pink and white
redbud and dogwood."
"And you?" Giles asked Kit.
"Stars," he said. That was all. ~ Sena Jeter Naslund

Junction nineteen! Una, she came off at Junction nineteen! You've added an hour to your journey before you even started. Come on, let's get you a drink. How's your love life, anyway?"
Oh GOD. Why can't married people understand that this is no longer a polite question to ask? We wouldn't rush up to THEM and roar, "How's your marriage going? Still having sex?" Everyone knows that dating in your thirties is not the happy-go-lucky free-for-it-all it was when you were twenty-two and that the honest answer is more likely to be, "Actually, last night my married lover appeared wearing suspenders and a darling little Angora crop-top, told me he was gay/a sex addict/a narcotic addict/a commitment phobic and beat me up with a dildo," than, "Super, thanks. ~ Helen Fielding

I picked up an old microscope at a flea market in Verona. In the long evenings, in my imitation of life science, I set up in the courtyard and examined local specimens. Pointless pleasure, stripped of ends. The ancient contadino from across the road, long since convinced that we were mad, could not resist coming over for a look.
I showed him where to put his eye. I watched him, thinking, this is how we attach to existence. We look through awareness's tube and see the swarm at the end of the scope, taking what we come upon there for the full field of sight itself.
The old man lifted his eye from the microscope lens, crying.
Signore, ho ottantotto anni e non ho mai Saputo prima che cosa ci fosse in una goccia d'acqua. I'm eighty-eight years old and I never knew what was in a droplet of water. ~ Richard Powers

El verbo leer, como el verbo amar y el verbo soñar, no soporta 'el modo imperativo'. Yo siempre les aconsejé a mis estudiantes que si un libro los aburre lo dejen; que no lo lean porque es famoso, que no lean un libro porque es moderno, que no lean un libro porque es antiguo. La lectura debe ser una de las formas de la felicidad y no se puede obligar a nadie a ser feliz.


The verb reading, like the verb to love and the verb dreaming, doesn't bear the imperative mode. I always advised to my students that if a book bores them leave it; That they don't read it because it's famous, that they don't read a book because it's modern, that they don't read a book because it's antique. The reading should be one of the ways of happiness and nobody can be obliged to be happy. ~ Jorge Luis Borges

Eyes, golden-brown curls and crimson cheeks. She laughed too much to please her father's congregation and had shocked old Mrs. Taylor, the disconsolate spouse of several departed husbands, by saucily declaring - in the church-porch at that - "The world ISN'T a vale of tears, Mrs. Taylor. It's a world of laughter." Little dreamy Una was not given to laughter. Her braids of straight, dead-black hair betrayed no lawless kinks, and her almond-shaped, dark-blue eyes had something wistful and sorrowful in them. Her mouth had a trick of falling open over her tiny white teeth, and a shy, meditative smile occasionally crept over her small face. She was much more sensitive to public opinion than Faith, and had an uneasy consciousness that there was something askew in their way of living. She longed to put it right, but did not know how. Now and then she dusted the furniture - but it was so seldom she could find the duster because it was never in the same place twice. And when ~ L.M. Montgomery

Walter looked about him lingeringly and lovingly. This spot had always been so dear to him. What fun they all had had here lang syne. Phantoms of memory seemed to pace the dappled paths and peep merrily through the swinging boughs–Jem and Jerry, bare-legged, sunburned schoolboys, fishing in the brook and frying trout over the old stone fireplace; Nan and Di and Faith, in their dimpled, fresh-eyed childish beauty; Una the sweet and shy, Carl, poring over ants and bugs, little slangy, sharp-tongued, good-hearted Mary Vance–the old Walter that had been himself lying on the grass reading poetry or wandering through palaces of fancy. They were all there around him–he could see them almost as plainly as he saw Rilla–as plainly as he had once seen the Pied Piper piping down the valley in a vanished twilight. And they said to him, those gay little ghosts of other days, "We were the children of yesterday, Walter–fight a good fight for the children of today and tomorrow. ~ L.M. Montgomery

How the excitement comes upon me to tell it all! In the quest of writing, the heart can speed up with anticipation--as it does, indeed, during the chase itself of whales. I can swear it, having done both, and I will tell YOU though other writers may not. My heart is beating fast; I am in pursuit; I want my victory--that you should see and hear and above all feel the reality behind these words. For they are but a mask. Not the mask that conceals, not a mask that I would have you strike through as mere appearance, or, worse, deceitful appearance. Words need not be that kind of mask, but a mask such as the ancient Greek actors wore, a mask that expresses rather than conceals the inner drama.
(But do you know me? Una? You have shipped long with me in the boat that is this book. Let me assure you and tell you that I know you, even something of your pain and joy, for you are much like me. The contract of writing and reading requires that we know each other. Did you know that I try on your mask from time to time? I become a reader, too, reading over what I have just written. If I am your shipbuilder and captain, from time to time I am also your comrade. Feel me now, standing beside you, just behind your shoulder?) ~ Sena Jeter Naslund

"Esa chica esta bien caliente." Hector laughed as Rider shook his head. Ainsley stiffened across from me. She was pretty fluent in Spanish and even though Hector was Puerto Rican, I had a feeling she was getting the general gist of whatever he was saying and she was not happy about it. "Me gustaria a llevarla a mi casa y comermela."
Ainsley cocked her head to the side as she brushed her long, blond hair over her shoulder. "Gracias! Pero no hay ni una parte de mi que tu te vas a comer."
Hector's eyes widened.
Rider threw his head back and burst into laughter. "Oh, shit. Priceless."
"What?" Ainsley blinked big eyes at the stunned Hector. "You think some white chick can't possibly understand another language so you're going to sit in front of me and talk about me like I'm not here?" Her smile was brittle and fake. "Bitch, please."
"Man..." Hector sat back, slowly shaking his head as he stared at her. "You're...brutal."
"Damn straight," she replied, her eyes like chips of blue ice. Whatever yumminess she'd seen in Hector was completely out the window now. "And you're a mal criado."
Hector's eyes narrowed.
"I really like your friend, Mouse." Still chuckling, Rider winked at me. "She basically called him a classless ass, and I agree. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

YOU
You are that song that plays rarely on the radio,
But when it does I have to sing it out loud…
You are the water that formed a puddle on a rainy day,that I played in,
When I was only eight years old.
You are the first snowfall of the season,
And the reason I like the morning...
You're a single seashell that washed up onto the shore.
You are my set of old medals
Hidden deep in a drawer…
You are the sun, the moon, the stars, and all the planets.
You are the first breath of a baby just born.

Eres una dandelion que encuentro,
I pull, make a wish, then blow.
You are the sunrise that I tried to paint
after I woke up in Eilat.
You give the nights its meaning…
to dream, while others just sleep.
You are my 3rd grade valentine,
Read, frayed and loved a thousand times.
Eres perfección envuelto en humildad…

Eres oro, plata, y diamantes…
Eres mi querido viejito Pooh, que nunca lo abandonare.
You are my first time driving my brother's Impala,
When I was just fourteen.
You are the name hidden deep inside my name…
And I'm the fingers interlaced with yours.
Eres el PS: I love you at the end la carta,
Y yo soy el PS: I love you too.
Somos el principio, el medio y la ultima palabra
De mi libro final.

Eternamente nosotros, nosotros, nosotros…
Porque nosotros siempre es mejor
Que solamente… yo…
YOU ~ Jose N Harris

There was a muchacha who lived near my house. La gente del pueblo talked about her being una de las otras, "of the Others." They said that for six months she was a woman who had a vagina that bled once a month, and that for the other six months she was a man, had a penis and she peed standing up. they called her half and half, mita' y mita', neither one nor the other but a strange doubling, a deviation of nature that horrified, a work of nature inverted. But there is a magic aspect in abnormality and so-called deformity. Maimed, mad, and sexually different people were believed to posess supernatural powers by primal cultures' magico-religious thinking. For them, abnormality was the price a person had to pay for her or his inborn extraordinary gift.

There is something compelling about being both male and female, about having an entry into both worlds. Contrary to some psychiatric tenets, half and halfs are not suffering from a confusion of sexual identity, or even from a confusion of gender. What we are suffering from is an absolute despot duality that says we are able to be only one or the other. It claims that human nature is limited and cannot evolve into something better. But I, like other queer people, am two in one body, both male and female. I am the embodiment of the heiros gamos: the coming together of opposite qualities within. ~ Gloria E Anzaldua

Will's fleshy face contorted and a memory swept over him like a chilling wind. He did
not move slowly over the past, it was all there in one flash, all of the years, a picture, a feeling and a despair, all stopped the way a fast camera stops the world. There was the flashing Samuel, beautiful as dawn with a fancy like a swallow's flight, and the brilliant, brooding Tom who was dark fire, Una who rode the storms, and the lovely Mollie, Dessie of laughter, George handsome and with a sweetness that filled a room like the perfume of flowers, and there was Joe, the youngest, the beloved. Each one without effort brought some gift into the family.
Nearly everyone has his box of secret pain, shared with no one. Will had concealed his well, laughed loud, exploited perverse virtues, and never let his jealousy go wandering. He thought of himself as slow, doltish, conservative, uninspired. No great dream lifted him high and no despair forced self-destruction. He was always on the edge, trying to hold on to the rim of the family with what gifts he had - care, and reason, application. He kept the books, hired the attorneys, called the undertaker, and eventually paid the bills. The others didn't even know they needed him. He had the ability to get money and to keep it. He thought the Hamiltons despised him for his one ability. He had loved them doggedly, had always been at hand with his money to pull them out of their errors. He thought they were ashamed of him, and he fought bitt ~ John Steinbeck