Old Woman Nora Quotes

Once ye made up yer mind to do somethin', 'tis better t'stumble o'er the small hillock of jump-ahead than t'bash yer head on the jagged rocks of did-nothing.
Old Woman Nora of Loch Lomand to her three wee granddaughtersone cold evening ~ Karen Hawkins

Love doesna always mean burning flashes o' passion. Sometimes, it's jus' the warmth o' yer hearts as they beat yer day together." ~Old Woman Nora to her three wee granddaughters on a cold winter's night. ~ Karen Hawkins

When she reaches the ground, she looks from the old woman to me. A moment of confusion. Then recognition. I know her too, because I've seen traces of her in my face in the mirror. My mother. My a-ma. ~ Lisa See

Well, a younger woman is a type, but not necessarily a type for me. And what is a younger woman? I mean, I'm pretty old. Almost everyone is younger. ~ Jack Nicholson

Viktor was swinging a leather duffle and wearing a black Adidas tracksuit and his favorite brown UGG slippers with a hole in the toe.
"Worn and old, just like Viv," he'd say when Frankie made fun of them, and then his wife would swat him on the arm. But Frankie knew he was just joking, because Viveka was the type of woman you wished was in a magazine just so you could stare at her violet-colored eyes and shiny black hair without being called a stalker or a freak. ~ Lisi Harrison

From the seventeenth to the nineteenth century, the representation of time itself changed; it moved away from allegorical human figures - an old man, a blind youth holding an hourglass, a woman with bared breasts representing Fate - to the impersonal language of numbers: railroad schedules, the bottom line of industrial progress. Time was no longer shifting sand; time was money. Yet the modern era also allowed for multiple conceptions of time and made the experience of time more individual and creative. ~ Svetlana Boym

I laugh at the wrinkles in the mirror. ~ Ljupka Cvetanova

When a woman had eyes that big, that brown, that beautiful, she probably got whatever she wanted without saying a word. ~ Nora Roberts

I once dreamt I was telling stories and felt someone patting my foot in encouragement. I looked down and saw that I was standing on the shoulders of an older woman who was steadying my ankles and smiling up at me.
I said to her, "no no come stand on my shoulders, For you are old and I am Young."
"No no" she insisted, "this is the way it is supposed to be." I saw that she stood on the shoulders of a woman far older than she, who stood on the shoulders of a woman even older, who stood on the shoulders of a woman in robes, who stood on the shoulders of another soul, who stood on the shoulders... ~ Clarissa Pinkola Estes

Hi, Commander. On the anniversary of what you did, I just wanted to say thank you. This is my daughter, Dalycia. I don't know if you remember me or not, but I'm the woman you saved from that psycho, and this is the daughter I had six weeks later. Say hi, Dalycia. (Woman)
Hi, Commander. Thank you for saving my mommy and me. I drew this for you to say thank you. See, it's you saving us, and we're all happy 'cause we're alive and the bad man isn't. (Dalycia)
(All of a sudden, he snarled in outrage and threw the frame against the wall, shattering it into a thousand pieces.)
Adron! (Livia)
What? Did you think showing me that shit would make all of this okay? Did you think I'd look at them, then cry and say how grateful I am they live while I'm trapped like this? What about the children I wanted to have, Livia? I can't even have sex without spending a month in the hospital, or dying from it. All I want is five fucking seconds where I'm not trying to breathe through absolute agony. Five seconds where I can move and not ache to the marrow of my bones. I'm only thirty-five years old, and all I have to look forward to is a future where I'll slowly, painfully disintegrate into an invalid who can't even wipe his own ass. Do you really think I'm okay with being dependent on you or anyone else? I was an assassin, and now I have less mobility than a withered-up hundred-year-old man. I'm nothing but a worthless piece of shit who should have died that night. And them telli ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

I totally agree with equal rights and women's causes, and most of my songs are woman-power, but I don't want to be labelled at 20 years old. ~ Meghan Trainor

Tell me, do you have family near?" Miss Addie asked. "I'm an orphan," Theta said. "You're wrong." The old woman blinked up at the ceiling, her fingers waving in the air. "You do have family. I see it in your aura. They're… they're all around you. ~ Libba Bray

Coco Chanel once said that what makes a woman look old is trying desperately to look young. Why should one be ashamed to be 84? Why do you have to say that you're 52? Nobody's going to believe you anyway, so why be such a fool? It's nice that you got to be so old. It's a blessing. ~ Iris Apfel

I was lonely, deadly lonely. And I was to find out then, as I found out so many times, over and over again, that women especially are social beings, who are not content with just husband and family, but must have a community, a group, an exchange with others. Young and old, even in the busiest years of our lives, we women especially are victims of the long loneliness.
It was years before I woke up without that longing for a face pressed against my breast, an arm about my shoulder. The sense of loss was there.
I never was so unhappy, never felt so great the sense of loneliness. No matter how many times I gave up mother, father, husband, brother, daughter, for His sake, I had to do it over again.
Tamar is partly responsible for the title of this book in that when I was beginning it she was writing me about how alone a mother of young children always is. I had also just heard from an old woman who lived a long and full life, and she too spoke of her loneliness ~ Dorothy Day

Why, Affery, woman - Affery! You have been getting out of bed in your sleep, my dear! I come up, after having fallen asleep myself, below, and find you in your wrapper here, with the nightmare. Affery, woman,' said Mr Flintwinch, with a friendly grin on his expressive countenance, 'if you ever have a dream of this sort again, it'll be a sign of your being in want of physic. And I'll give you such a dose, old woman - such a dose! ~ Charles Dickens

We are the people of Misr," the old woman rasped. "Since our Sunni ancestors fled from Nilotic al-Ourouba, we have known flight and death. The young go on that our people shall not die. ~ Frank Herbert

In India they tell a fable about this: There was once a great devotee of Vishnu who prayed night and day to see his God. One night his wish was granted and Vishnu appeared to him. Falling on his knees, the devotee cried out, "I will do anything for you, my Lord, just ask."
"How about a drink of water?" Vishnu replied.
Although surprised by the request, the devotee immediately ran to the river as fast as his legs could carry him. When he got there and knelt to dip up some water, he saw a beautiful woman standing on an island in the middle of the river. The devotee fell madly in love on the spot. He grabbed a boat and rowed over to her. She responded to him, and the two were married. They had children in a house on the island; the devotee grew rich and old plying his trade as a merchant. Many years later, a typhoon came along and devastated the island. The merchant was swept away in the storm. He nearly drowned but regained consciousness on the very spot where he had once begged to see God. His whole life, including his house, wife, and children, seemed never to have happened.
Suddenly he looked over his shoulder, only to see Vishnu standing there in all his radiance.
"Well," Vishnu said, "did you find me a glass of water? ~ Deepak Chopra

My lack of faith in God is not a dilapidated house.
It does not need to be razed to the ground or burned down to cinders.
I refuse to be the wounded woman on a cross
that you crucify with your disapproval like nails;
I will only be the woman who believes in thunderstorms
the same way lightning loves the tops of trees it strikes
every time it gets tired of being pent up in an unforgiving sky,
the only difference is that I believe these are natural weather phenomenons,
not God's belly rumbling or synapses firing.
When my doorway is filled with groups of people
wielding religious conversion pamphlets like crossbows,
I will be the martyr who steps aside to let the arrows
crack through the plaster in my wall instead of piercing my chest.
This is not a eulogy to the believer I could have been.
This is a battle cry to the believer I always have been,
believer in sunsets like splashes of paint, handholding
like willow branches brushing one another, new mornings
after old nights spent drowning in despair, believer
in love as an entire language instead of a single word.
Just because my beliefs align themselves on a different spectrum
does not mean they are the wrong wavelength or color.
And even though I think the universe was created by the Big Bang
instead of a God with magic dust shooting from his fingertips,
my universe does not contain fewer stars. ~ Meggie Royer

I don't categorize myself as an 85-year-old woman who has written an erotic novel. I categorize myself as a writer who's written an erotic novel. ~ Gloria Vanderbilt

Like all his attempts at fiction it would be as personal as a letter - painful to those who knew him, of no interest to those who didn't; precious or self-pitying in spots, in others too clever for its own good; so packed with Shakespeare that it looked as if he worked with a concordance in his lap; so narcissistic that its final effect would be that of the mirrored room which gives back the same image times without count, or the old Post Toastie box of his boyhood with the fascinating picture of a woman and child holding a Post Toastie box with a picture of a woman and child holding a Post Toastie box with a picture of a woman and child holding - - ~ Charles Jackson

A Party for New Year (for Lily and Maisie, the ladies what lunch.)

Dear Lily,
I have bought something frilly,
to wear on New Year's Eve.
You may think it sounds rather silly,
and, what I tell you, you will never believe.

I met a woman in Primark, I know,
not my normal shop.
Just heard so much about it
inside I had to pop.

Well, the top I purchased, sparkles.
The frills upon it abound.
This woman I met in the changing room.
On me, she said it looked sound.

It's very, very silver you know.
A little bit like Lametta.
Oh Lily, I feel quite aglow.
On no one could it look any better.

Dear Maisie,
Things are looking a bit hazy.
A silver top, for New Year.
Are you really, really that crazy?
My word, you batty old dear.

I'm wearing my old faithful.
The black dress, with the gold trim.
It's not like we're doing anything special.
In fact proceedings sound quite grim.

Sitting on your old sofa
With a Baileys, if I'm lucky.
Watching the same old things on the box.
I'm not excited Ducky.

I want to be in the city
and feel the atmosphere.
It really is a pity
that you want to stay right here.

Dear Lily.
Now you are being silly.
What about your knees?
Standing about, feeling chilly,
and moaning you're going to freeze.

Much better to stay ~ Ann Perry

Was not Hypatia the greatest philosopher of Alexandria, and a true martyr to the old values of learning? She was torn to pieces by a mob of incensed Christians not because she was a woman, but because her learning was so profound, her skills at dialectic so extensive that she reduced all who queried her to embarrassed silence. They could not argue with her, so they murdered her. ~ Iain Pears

Here: an exercise in choice. Your choice. One of these tales is true.
She lived through the war. In 1959 she came to America. She now lives in a condo in Miami, a tiny French woman with white hair, with a daughter and a grand-daughter. She keeps herself to herself and smiles rarely, as if the weight of memory keeps her from finding joy.
Or that's a lie. Actually the Gestapo picked her up during a border crossing in 1943, and they left her in a meadow. First she dug her own grave, then a single bullet to the back of the skull.
Her last thought, before that bullet, was that she was four months' pregnant, and that if we do not fight to create a future there will be no future for any of us.
There is an old woman in Miami who wakes, confused, from a dream of the wind blowing the wildflowers in a meadow.
There are bones untouched beneath the warm French earth which dream of a daughter's wedding. Good wine is drunk. The only tears shed are happy ones. ~ Neil Gaiman

Warning, When I'm An Old Woman, I Shall Wear Purple! ~ Jenny Joseph

She's an old woman possessed of great powers
but aren't all old women possessed of great powers? Occupational hazard, I think. ~ Catherynne M Valente

There is a collective force reawakening on the Earth each day: the reawakening of the Witch. Within every woman drawn to the path of witchcraft resides the powerful spirit of the Witch. ~ Dacha Avelin

A woman who can threaten your life before breakfast is the only sort of woman worth having. ~ Nora Roberts

Crime? What crime? ... My killing a loathsome, harmful louse, a filthy old moneylender woman ... and you call that a crime? ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Stories had always been told about male genies coming out of bottles, but they were usually fat, old men. Never had the genie been a gorgeous woman, so that idea really appealed to me, and I created the series based on that premise. ~ Sidney Sheldon

Good night, Keeley."
"Good night, Brian. Thanks for the ride."
Adelia waited until the men were out, then turned to her daughter. "Keeley, I never would've thought it of you. You're tormenting the poor man."
"There's nothing poor about that man." Delighted with herself, Keeley broke off a piece of bread and crunched down on it. "And tormenting him is so rewarding."
"Well,there's not a woman with blood in her could argue with that. Mind you don't hurt him, darling. ~ Nora Roberts

If you can't get up for an old woman on the bus, you can't be an officer in the IDF. ~ Moshe Ya'alon

My mind is curiously alert; it's as though my skull had a thousand mirrors inside it. My nerves are taut, vibrant! the notes are like glass balls dancing on a million jets of water. I've never been to a concert before on such an empty belly. Nothing escapes me, not even the tiniest pin falling. It's as though I had no clothes on and every pore of my body was a window and all the windows open and the light flooding my gizzards. I can feel the light curving under the vault of my ribs and my ribs hang there over a hollow nave trembling with reverberations. How long this lasts I have no idea; I have lost all sense of time and place. After what seems like an eternity there follows an interval of semiconsciousness balanced by such a calm that I feel a great lake inside me, a lake of iridescent sheen, cool as jelly; and over this lake, rising in great swooping spirals, there emerge flocks of birds of passage with long slim legs and brilliant plumage. Flock after flock surge up from the cool, still surface of the lake and, passing under my clavicles, lose themselves in the white sea of space. And then slowly, very slowly, as if an old woman in a white cap were going the rounds of my body, slowly the windows are closed and my organs drop back into place. ~ Henry Miller

Every morning when I wake up and look in the mirror, I see a black face and I love it. Sure, I've been to Paris and grew up surfing, and yes, I speak like I'm in a commercial. But I'm just like the women you see walking on the side of the road with their laundry baskets and their Bibles. I'm just like the old men pedaling their rusty bicycles. I'm no different from the men who drive your tractors or the woman who probably raised you. I'm just like them, no better and no worse. I'm black, Remy, which means everything and nothing ~ Natalie Baszile

If an eighty-six-year-old woman has been clear-seeing from a young age, she will have gone through a lot of life developing a keen eye for snares and pitfalls, an ear for deceit, and a good nose for knavery. And by such an age, a smart woman with no illusions is one to whom courage comes far more readily than it does to those young people who don't yet know the world for what it is. ~ Dean Koontz

This is what's sick about living in L.A. My eight-year-old daughter will point to a woman and say, 'Look! That woman's had too much Botox.' She spots them because they all look a bit like Lord Voldemort from 'Harry Potter.' ~ Kate Beckinsale

The smell of a woman is her most important quality. I'd loved women who were old and who were young; those with extra kilos and large rumps, and others so thin there was barely even skin to pinch, and every time I held them, I worried I would snap them in two. But for all of these, where they had merited my love was in their delicious smell. Scent is such a powerful tool of attraction, that if a woman has this tool perfectly tuned, she needs no other. I will forgive her a large nose, a cleft lip, even crossed-eyes; and I'll bathe in the jouissance of her intoxicating odour. ~ Roman Payne

He walked outside onto the terrace and sat. Obviously settled and comfortable, he poured coffee. There were ways and ways to gain trust, he thought. With
a bird with a broken wing, it took patience, care, and a gentle touch. With a high-strung horse that had been whipped, it took diligence and the risk of being kicked. With a woman, it took a certain amount of charm. He was willing to combine all three. ~ Nora Roberts

I was in a queer mood, thinking myself very old: but now I am a woman again - as I always am when I write. ~ Virginia Woolf

Parasols with miniature electric gas lamps atop them were all the rage. Hers had a pink light in it, which meant she belonged to a family that allowed its children to follow the quaint old practice of dating. White indicated that a girl's family would arrange a courtship for her, and blue identified a married woman. Green stood for a woman who wasn't keen on men at all, but whose head could be turned by the sight of a pretty skirt. ~ Lia Habel

This is all very fine, but it won't do-Anatomy-botany-Nonsense! Sir, I know an old woman in Covent Garden, who understands botany better, and as for anatomy, my butcher can dissect a joint full as well; no, young man, all that is stuff; you must go to the bedside, it is there alone you can learn disease!
Comment to Hans Sloane on Robert Boyle's letter of introduction describing Sloane as a 'ripe scholar, a good botanist, a skilful anatomist'. ~ Thomas Sydenham