M C3 Bcnch Quotes

The painting showed a hairless, oppressed creature with a head like an inverted pear, its hands clapped in horror to its ears, its mouth open in a vast, soundless scream. Twisted ripples of the creature's torment, echoes of its cry, flooded out into the air surrounding it; the man or woman, whichever it was, had become contained by its own howl. It had covered its ears against its own sound. The creature stood on a bridge and no one else was present; the creature screamed in isolation. Cut off by - or despite - its outcry. ~ Philip K. Dick

The little girl smiled. The spaces in between her teeth were dark with blood. Aside from that, she was kind of cute. ~ S.M. Reine

Shevek, meeting her eyes, knew that he had committed an unforgivable fault in forgetting her and, ... ~ Ursula K. Le Guin

Carefully they replaced the soil and covered the entire grave with uprooted grass.
Neither one had spoken a word. ~ Toni Morrison

Solitude was his fate; he was trapped in his heredity. ~ Ursula K. Le Guin

The first effect of the mind growing cultivated is that processes once multiple get to be performed in a single act. Lazarus has called this the progressive 'condensation' of thought. ... Steps really sink from sight. An advanced thinker sees the relations of his topics is such masses and so instantaneously that when he comes to explain to younger minds it is often hard ... Bowditch, who translated and annotated Laplace's Méchanique Céleste, said that whenever his author prefaced a proposition by the words 'it is evident,' he knew that many hours of hard study lay before him. ~ William James

The first thing I see when I get home from the hospital after midnight is the glint of the stainless steel oven in the semidarkness of the kitchen. The air smells sweet and eggy. I walk to the oven and pull open the door. Six white ramekins hold six perfect-looking crème caramels, and I wonder if they're safe to eat. It's been more than three hours since I turned off the oven. I remember a Swedish chef telling me years ago when I worked as a prep cook that unrefrigerated food will keep for four hours, but he also cleaned his fingernails with the tip of his chef's knife, so who knows.
I pick up one of the dishes and sniff it. It smells fine. Without taking off my coat, I dig into a drawer for a spoon and eat the crème caramel in five seconds flat. The texture is silky and it tastes sweet and custardy, if not perfect. I pull the rest of the dishes from the oven to put in the fridge, telling myself one was enough. An extra treat at the end of a hard day. I've put three ramekins into the refrigerator when I can't stand it and dig into the second, eating more slowly this time, slipping out of my coat, savoring the custard on my tongue. Two is definitely enough, I'm thinking as I lick the inside of the cup, two is perfect. I'm picking up the remaining cup to put in the fridge but I turn instead, head for the bedroom with ramekin in hand. At least wait until you've gotten undressed and in bed, I told myself, surely you can wait. I make it as far as the doorway and I'm digging m ~ Jennie Shortridge

She felt so old, so worn out, so far away from the best moments of her life that she even yearned for those that she remembered as the worst ... Her heart of compressed ash, which had resisted the most telling blows of daily reality without strain, fell apart with the first waves of nostalgia. The need to feel sad was becoming a vice as the years eroded her. She became human in her solitude. ~ Gabriel Garcia Marquez

What happens to a man who just won't cooperate?"
"Well, he moves on. The others get tired of him, you know. They make fun of him, or they get rough with him, beat him up ... ~ Ursula K. Le Guin

I've been all over the place in all kinds of living situations. Due to the fact that my mind is my own worst enemy. In a way I am perpetually and permanently in a state of rehabilitation m in an attempt to rehabilitate from the shock of being born.Some people are too sensitive to withstand that. ~ Heather O'Neill

There are times I almost believe that anything possible to be done should be done, not just because it's good or makes sense, simply because it's possible. ~ Sandor Marai

Wherever they might be they always remember that the past was a lie, that memory has no return, that every spring gone by could never be recovered, and that the wildest and most tenacious love was an ephemeral truth in the end. ~ Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Then he knew that they had rounded the cape of good hope, and he took her large, soft hand again and covered it with forlorn little kisses, first the hard metacarpus, the long, discerning fingers, the diaphanous nails, and then the hieroglyphics of her destiny on her perspiring palm. ~ Gabriel Garcia Marquez

They don't need our help." "They don't need it. But we can sit here and watch TV shows, or we can go get into trouble. What do you think, Suze? Feel up to raiding a ritual sacrifice featuring twelve pimply teenagers and some filet mignon?" A smile blossomed on Suzy's lips. "This job," she said with a lot more fondness than she had before. "This fucking job." Damn straight. ~ S.M. Reine

I've already spent ten years of my life apologizing for that band. As their manager, that's all I really did. Apologize. For years afterward I'd walk into a hotel lobby and the receptionist would call to me, 'Mr. McGhee.' And I'd run up and drop to my knees and say, 'Oh, Jesus, I'm really sorry.'
They'd look at me funny and say, 'No, nothing's wrong. You have a telephone call.'
And I'd breathe a sigh of relief and thank the good Lord above that I wasn't managing Mötley Crüe anymore.

~ Doc McGhee. ~ Motley Crue

Sally wasn't crying about their dead mother or her cancer. She was crying because her husband, Alfonso, had left her after twenty years for a young woman. It seemed a brutal thing to do, just after her mastectomy. She was devastated, but no, she wouldn't ever divorce him, even though the woman was pregnant and he wanted to marry her.

"They can just wait until I die. I'll be dead soon, probably next year..." Sally wept but the ocean drowned out the sound. ~ Lucia Berlin

Underground, mí corazón
spoke to everyone
danced with me/alone/ ~ Sondra Faye

Like Molière's M. Jourdain, who spoke prose all his life without knowing it, mathematicians have been reasoning for at least two millennia without being aware of all the principles underlying what they were doing. The real nature of the tools of their craft has become evident only within recent times A renaissance of logical studies in modern times begins with the publication in 1847 of George Boole's 'The Mathematical Analysis of Logic'. ~ Ernest Nagel

Oh yes! Smell how much I need you!" Taylor's hips bucked over and over, desperately searching for a part of their bodies to wet with her cream. ~ Lola Newmar

The TRUTH shall always be your unbeatable weapon.
~ Angelica Hopes, an excerpt from P. B. Y. M. Book 1 of Karmic Harvest Trilogy ~ Angelica Hopes

For a while now, I have been conscious of a tension in my relationship with you," Svetlana said. "And I think that's the reason. It's because we both make up narratives about our own lives. I think that's why we decided not to live together next year. Although obviously it's also why we're so attracted to each other."

"Everyone makes up narratives about their own lives."

"But not to the same extent. Think about my roommates. Fern, for example. I don't mean that she doesn't have an inner life, or that she doesn't think about the past or make plans for the future. But she doesn't compulsively rehash everything that happens to her in the form of a story. She's in my story – I'm not in hers. That makes her and me unequal, but it also gives our relationship a kind of stability, and safeness. We each have our different roles. It's like an unspoken contract. With you, there's more instability and tension, because I know you're making up a story, too, and in our story, I'm just a character."

"I don't know," I said. "I still think everyone experiences their own life as a narrative. If you didn't have some kind of ongoing story in mind, how would you know who you were when you woke up in the morning?"

"That's a weak definition of narrative. That's saying that narrative is just memory plus causality. But, for us, the narrative has aesthetics, too."

"But I don't think that's because of our personalities," I said. Isn't it more about ~ Elif Batuman

He was the one who'd come back to life not fifteen minutes ago. Whenever he got sick at home, Aunt Elizabeth and Tabitha made a tremendous fuss with hot water bottles and tinctures and sweets and kisses. It only stood to reason that they should all make an extra-tremendous fuss now. After all, when you rose from the grave in England, people tended to make whole religions out of you. ~ Catherynne M. Valente

I don't work in places with papier-mâché and cellophane hearts. ~ Thomm Quackenbush

The substance of every true and stable political organism is something resembling an Order, a Männerbünd in charge of the principle of the imperium, comprising men who see loyalty as the basis of their honor. ~ Julius Evola

Father Nicanor was against a religious ceremony and burial in consecrated ground.
Ursula stood up to him. In a way that neither you nor I can understand, that man was a saint, ~ Gabriel Garcia Marquez

This was when she asked him whether it was true that love conquered all, as the songs said. 'It is true', he replied, 'but you would do well not to believe it. ~ Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Modern man is rather like a bisected wasp which goes on sucking jam and pretends that the loss of its abdomen does not matter ~ George Orwell

We live in a reputation economy. People are judged based on their online visible choices, behaviours, accomplishments and mistakes. Every comment you leave, person you connect to, photo you upload, or review you get, contributes to the permanent record of your online reputation. ~ Maarten Schafer

Kaf Mountain Operation. ~ Mehmet Kececi

[I]f we revert to history, we shall find that the women who have distinguished themselves have neither been the most beautiful nor the most gentle of their sex. ~ Mary Wollstonecraft

Let's be honest. Sometimes art is dangerous, though. And that's why governments sometimes get nervous about art. But one of the things I truly believe is if you try to suppress the arts, then I think you are suppressing the deepest dreams and aspirations of the people. ~ Barack Obama

Before you ask other people to respect the borders of the West, ask yourself if the West has ever respected anybody else's border. ~ Suketu Mehta

Hazel studied Reyna's outfit with concern. "Your sword's in the truck. Don't you want to take a shield or something?"
"Nah. I've got my cloak. It'll turn aside most weapons." Reyna brushed the collar of her sweater wrap. Instantly it unfurled into her usual purple cape.
Frank's smile faded. "Does my cloak do that?"
"See you, guys!" Reyna climbed behind the wheel.
"Wait, does my cloak deflect weapons?" Frank called after us. "Does mine turn into a sweater wrap?"
As we pulled away, I could see Frank Zhang in the rearview mirror, intently studying the stitching of his cape. ~ Rick Riordan

Who are you?"
"The devil," she said. "The devil in love. ~ Arturo Perez Reverte

This harsh little man - this pitiless censor - gathers up all your poor scattered sins of vanity, your luckless chiffon of rose- color, your small fringe of a wreath, your small scrap of ribbon, your silly bit of lace, and calls you to account for the lot, and for each item. You are well habituated to be passed by as a shadow in Life's sunshine: it its a new thing to see one testily lifting his hand to screen his eyes, because you tease him with an obtrusive ray. ~ Charlotte Bronte

He was dark-haired as his mother, and promised to be like her in mood also; for he was not merry, and spoke little, though he learned to speak early and ever seemed older than his years. Túrin was slow to forget injustice or mockery; but the fire of his father was also in him, and he could be sudden and fierce. Yet he was quick to pity, and the hurts or sadness of living things might move him to tears. ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

Ophüls's images are perfect crystals. Their facets are oblique mirrors…And the mirrors are not content with reflecting the actual image, but constitute the prism, the lens where the split image constantly runs after itself to connect up with itself…On the track or in the crystal, the imprisoned characters bustle, acting and acted on…Crystalline perfection lets no outside subsist: there is no outside of the mirror or the film set, but only an obverse where the characters who disappear or die go, abandoned by life which thrusts itself back into the film set. ~ Gilles Deleuze