To Each His Own Quotes

What car are we taking?" she says all businesslike. "I thought you didn't want to." She snatched the coffee from my hand and looks at me over the rim. "Of course I want to, but I would look like a bad person if I didn't object at all." I shrug. I stopped trying to soothe my conscience years ago, but to each his own. ~ Tarryn Fisher

Problems," lamented Duncan. "They never seem to end."
"Do they even end in the first place?"
Duncan grimaced, "If only we know when they begin, we might be able to nip it in the bud before it putrefies."
"Not everyone recognizes the bud when it manifests itself," interjected Juliette.
"Quite true," agreed Duncan.
"But what is life without hurdles?" Juliette remarked, philosophical.
"Some of us simple folk prefer smooth sailing lives," he deadpanned.
"What can I say?" she smiled, shrugging. "To each his own. ~ Alexis Lawrence

Dragons," I said. "They're hoarders. They keep the things they think are pretty. Gold and jewels. In this case, Justin. To each his own, I guess. ~ T.J. Klune

You say kidnap. We say hold in a secure facility until it's safe to turn you over to the proper authorities," Bex replied with a grin. "But to each his own. ~ Ally Carter

Sweet to the miser are his glittering heaps,
Sweet to the father is his first-born's birth,
Sweet is revenge
especially to women ~ George Gordon Byron

Narrative horror, disgust. That's what drives him mad, I'm sure of it, what obsesses him. I've known other people with the same aversion, or awareness, and they weren't even famous, fame is not a deciding factor, there are many individuals who experience their life as if it were the material of some detailed report, and they inhabit that life pending its hypothetical or future plot. They don't give it much thought, it's just a way of experiencing things, companionable, in a way, as if there were always spectators or permanent witnesses, even of their most trivial goings-on and in the dullest of times. Perhaps it's a substitute for the old idea of the omnipresence of God, who saw every second of each of our lives, it was very flattering in a way, very comforting despite the implicit threat and punishment, and three or four generations aren't enough for Man to accept that his gruelling existence goes on without anyone ever observing or watching it, without anyone judging it or disapproving of it. And in truth there is always someone: a listener, a reader, a spectator, a witness, who can also double up as simultaneous narrator and actor: the individuals tell their stories to themselves, to each his own, they are the ones who peer in and look at and notice things on a daily basis, from the outside in a way; or, rather, from a false outside, from a generalised narcissism, sometimes known as "consciousness". That's why so few people can withstand mockery, humiliation, ridicule, the ~ Javier Marias

Love is like death, it must come to us all, but to each his own unique way and time, sometimes it will be avoided, but never can it be cheated, and never will it be forgotten. ~ Jacob Grimm

Hoshino found Oshima an appealing young man. Intelligent, well groomed, obviously from a good family. And quite kind. He's got to be gay, right? Not that Hoshino cared. To each his own, was his thinking. Some men talk with stones, and some men sleep with other men. ~ Haruki Murakami

Religion is responsible for a lot of the problems in the history of the world and it's not something that I practice or recommend, but to each his own. ~ Salman Rushdie

I don't remember being a keen reader, but apparently I was. My aunt told me that whenever I was teased for reading, I would say, "To each his own." ~ Sefi Atta

I think there are [gay players] right now, and if they're looking for a window to just come out, I mean, now is the window. My view on it is, yes, I am a Christian, but to each his own. You do what you want to do. ~ Robert Griffin III

Selecting a stroke is like selecting a wife. To each his own. ~ Ben Hogan

To each his own, I supposed, and I had more important things, like my impending death, to worry about. ~ Sage Kafsky

She sticks her tongue out at me and crosses her eyes. Not sure why that made me want to do her in the backseat, but to each his own, I guess. ~ J.A. Redmerski

Me personally, I wouldn't put my kids on television. But to each his own. ~ Nick Cannon

To each his own fear'; ~ Rudyard Kipling

I think everyone should be happy. I think a fool is going to go against same sex marriage at this point. Look how long it took him [Obama] to say he was for same sex marriages. You understand? I'm up for it. If everyone else is for it, then hey, to each his own. I don't have personal feelings towards it because I'm not involved in that lifestyle. I want people to be happy. It makes for everything to be better ~ Curtis Jackson

To each his own. It's one of those things. How you build your family-you have to know what you're capable of handling and how your children will relate to each other. Maybe if you have one child and that child has a lot of needs, you realize you cannot give more attention to another. Sometimes you just know as a parent. We felt we could handle more children, and we have a very happy, very full home. ~ Angelina Jolie

I understand that you don't want to marry me," I said. "I mean, I don't know why, since I'm simply delightful to be around. But to each his own taste. ~ Merrie Haskell

L.A. fashion is like lip injections. That confuses me. That's become not just a thing. It's become fashion, part of your outfit. But hey, to each his own. ~ Kenny Wormald

But ... you could have whatever you wished."
"Exactly," he says, nuzzling my neck.
"But," I say, "you could turn stones to rubies or ride in a fine gentleman's carriage."
Kartik puts his hands on either side of my face. "To each his own magic," he says and kisses me again. ~ Libba Bray

To each his own magic. ~ Libba Bray

To each his own reality. ~ Carl-John X. Veraja

He came up and kissed me on my forehead, and before he stepped away, I closed my eyes and tried hard to memorize this moment. I wanted to remember him exactly as he was right then, how his arms looked brown against his white shirt, the way his hair was cut a little too short in the front. Even the bruise, there because of me.

Then he was gone.

Just for that moment, the thought that I might never see him again… it felt worse than death. I wanted to
run after him. Tell him anything, everything. Just don't go. Please just never go. Please just always be near me, so I can at least see you.

Because it felt final. I always believed that we would find our way back to each other every time. That no matter what, we would be connected - by our history, by this house. But this time, this last time, it felt final. Like I would never see him again, or that when I did, it would be different, there would be a mountain between us.

I knew it in my bones. That this time was it. I had finally made my choice, and so had he. He let me go. I was relieved, which I expected. What I didn't expect was to feel so much grief.

Bye bye, Birdie. ~ Jenny Han

33 "Take heed, keep on the alert; for you do not know when the appointed time is. 34"It is like a man, away on a journey, who upon leaving his house and putting his slaves in charge, assigning to each one his task, also commanded the doorkeeper to stay on the alert. 35"Therefore, be on the alert - for you do not know when the master of the house is coming, whether in the evening, at midnight, at cockcrowing, or in the morning - 36lest he come suddenly and find you asleep. 37"And what I say to you I say to all, 'Be on the alert!' ~ Anonymous

This little colloquy in Adele's box was really the foundation of the secret society of the Luciaphils, and the membership of the Luciaphils began swiftly to increase. Aggie Sandeman was scarcely eligible, for complete goodwill towards Lucia was a sine qua non of membership, and there was in her mind a certain asperity when she thought that it was she who had given Lucia her gambit, and that already she was beginning to be relegated to second circles in Lucia's scale of social precedence. It was true that she had been asked to dine to meet Marcelle Periscope, but the party to meet Alf and his flute was clearly the smarter of the two. Adele, however, and Tony Limpsfield were real members, so too, when she came up a few days later, was Olga. Marcia Whitby was another who greedily followed her career, and such as these, whenever they met, gave eager news to each other about it. There was, of course, another camp, consisting of those whom Lucia bombarded with pleasant invitations, but who (at present) firmly refused them. They professed not to know her and not to take the slightest interest in her, which showed, as Adele said, a deplorable narrowness of mind. Types and striking characters like Lucia, who pursued undaunted and indefatigable their aim in life, were rare, and when they occurred should be studied with reverent affection...

Sometimes one of the old and original members of the Luciaphils discovered others, and if when Lucia's name was mentioned an eager and a ~ E.F. Benson

If you'd convinced Nancy to marry you, you might not have had to go off to be a Bow Street runner. You could have had an easier life, a better life in high society than you could have had with me if you'd married me. Without being able to access my fortune, I could only have dragged you down."
"You don't really believe that I wanted to marry her for her money," he gritted out.
"It's either that or assume that you fell madly in love with her in the few weeks we were apart." They were nearly to the inn now, so she added a plaintive note to her voice. "Or perhaps it was her you wanted all along. You knew my uncle would never accept a second son as a husband for his rich heiress of a daughter, so you courted me to get close to her. Nancy was always so beautiful, so--"
"Enough!"
Without warning, he dragged her into one of the many alleyways that crisscrossed York. This one was deeply shadowed, the houses leaning into each other overhead, and as he pulled her around to face him, the brilliance of his eyes shone starkly in the dim light.
"I never cared one whit about Nancy."
She tamped down her triumph--he hadn't admitted the whole truth yet. "It certainly didn't look that way to me. It looked like you had already forgotten me, forgotten what we meant to each--"
"The hell I had." He shoved his face close to hers. "I never forgot you for one day, one hour, one moment. It was you--always you. Everything I did was for you, damn it. No one else."
~ Sabrina Jeffries

The Frays had never been a religiously observant family, but Clary loved Fifth Avenue at Christmas time. The air smelled like sweet roasted chestnuts, and the window displays sparkled with silver and blue, green and red. This year there were fat round crystal snowflakes attached to each lamppost, sending back the winter sunlight in shafts of gold. Not to mention the huge tree at Rockefeller Center. It threw its shadow across them as she and Simon draped themselves over the gate at the side of the skating rink, watching tourists fall down as they tried to navigate the ice.

Clary had a hot chocolate wrapped in her hands, the warmth spreading through her body. She felt almost normal - this, coming to Fifth to see the window displays and the tree, had been a winter tradition for her and Simon for as long as she could remember.

"Feels like old times, doesn't it?" he said, echoing her thoughts as he propped his chin on his folded arms.

She chanced a sideways look at him. He was wearing a black topcoat and scarf that emphasized the winter pallor of his skin. His eyes were shadowed, indicating that he hadn't fed on blood recently. He looked like what he was - a hungry, tired vampire.

Well, she thought. Almost like old times. "More people to buy presents for," she said. "Plus, the always traumatic what-to-buy-someone-for-the-first-Christmas-after-you've-started-dating question."

"What to get the Shadowhunter who has everything," S ~ Cassandra Clare

Emotional abuse poisons a relationship and infuses it it with hostility, contempt, and hatred. No matter how much a couple once loved each other, once emotional abuse becomes a consistent aspect of the relationship, that love is overshadowed by fear, anger, guilt, and shame. Whether it is one or both partners who are being emotionally abusive, the relationship becomes increasingly more toxic as time goes by. In this polluted environment it is difficult for love not only to grow but to survive.

At the very least, emotional abuse causes both the abuser and the victim to lose sight of any redeeming qualitites his or her partner once had. The more a partner is allowed to degrade, criticize, or dominate her partner, the less she will respect her partner. And the more a partner is emotionally abused, the more he will slowly build up an intense hatred towards his abuser. The disrespect and hatred each partner begins to feel leads to more and more emotional abuse and to each partner justifying inappropriate, even destructive, behavior. Over time, anger can build up on the part of both abuser and victim, and emotional abuse can turn to physical violence. ~ Beverly Engel The Emotionally Abusive Relationship How To Stop Being Abused And How To Stop Abusing

We receive God's Will only in fragments; tiny fragments; one to each new now. It is our business to take them and piece them together, to fashion them into the design that is His and has been His from all eternity. What that design is we shall see only at our last moment. It will be perfect as God wills it to be perfect only if we live His Will in the now, the only fragment that is ours, the only fragment of God's plan that is allowed in our hands, the only fragment of Christ's life in us and our life in Christ that can be lived. But it is only by "gathering up these fragments, lest they be lost" that we can really live and attain life's only success - sainthood. ~ M. Raymond

The typical capitalists are lovers of power rather than sensual indulgence, but they have the same tendency to crush and to take tribute that the cruder types of sensualism possess. The discipline of the capitalist is the same as that of the frugalist. He differs from the latter in that he has no regard for the objects through which productive power is acquired. HE does not hesitate to exploit natural resources, lands, dumb animals and even his fellowman. Capital to such a man is an abstract fund, made up of perishable elements which are quickly replaced… The frugalist…stands in marked contrast to the attitude of the capitalist. The frugalist takes a vital interest in his tools, in his land, and in the goods he produces. He has a definite attachment to each. He dislikes to see an old coat wear out, an old wagon break down, or an old horse go lame. He always thinks of concrete things, wants them and nothing else. He desires not land, but a given farm, not horses or cattle and machines, but particular breeds and implements; not shelter, but a home…. He rejects as unworthy what is below standard and despises as luxurious what is above or outside of it. Dominated by activities, he thinks of capital as a means to an end. ~ Ellen Ruppel Shell

He sat in the chapel for hours picking his way through fugues. A dozen notes, hardly music. But then those few notes spoke to each other, subject and answer, by repetition, by diminution, by augmentation, even looping backwards on themselves in a course like the retrograde motion of Mars. He listened as if he had as many ears as fingertips, and, like a blind man, could feel textures that were barely there. At the end of two or three pages of music he would hear all the voices twining together in a construction of such dizzying power that the walls of the chapel could barely contain it. ~ Kate Grenville

I have had so many Dwellings, Nat, that I know these Streets as well as a strowling Beggar: I was born in this Nest of Death and Contagion and now, as they say, I have learned to feather it. When first I was with Sir Chris. I found lodgings in Phenix Street off Hogg Lane, close by St Giles and Tottenham Fields, and then in later times I was lodged at the corner of Queen Street and Thames Street, next to the Blew Posts in Cheapside. (It is still there, said Nat stirring up from his Seat, I have passed it!) In the time before the Fire, Nat, most of the buildings in London were made of timber and plaister, and stones were so cheap that a man might have a cart-load of them for six-pence or seven-pence; but now, like the Aegyptians, we are all for Stone. (And Nat broke in, I am for Stone!) The common sort of People gawp at the prodigious Rate of Building and exclaim to each other London is now another City or that House was not there Yesterday or the Situacion of the Streets is quite Changd (I contemn them when they say such things! Nat adds). But this Capital City of the World of Affliction is still the Capitol of Darknesse, or the Dungeon of Man's Desires: still in the Centre are no proper Streets nor Houses but a Wilderness of dirty rotten Sheds, allways tumbling or takeing Fire, with winding crooked passages, lakes of Mire and rills of stinking Mud, as befits the smokey grove of Moloch. (I have heard of that Gentleman, says Nat all a quiver). It is true that in what we call th ~ Peter Ackroyd

What an amazing thing is the coming of spring to London. The very pavements seem ready to crack and lift under the denied earth; in the air is a consciousness of life which tells you that if traffic stopped for a fortnight grass would grow again in Piccadilly and corn would spring in pavement cracks where a horse had spilt his 'feed'. And the squares of London, so dingy and black since the first October gale, fill week by week with the rising tide of life, just as the sea, running up the creeks and pushing itself forward inch by inch towards the land, comes at last to each remote rock pool. ~ H.V. Morton

Thank you from the heart to all those who in various ways are near me or follow me spiritually with affection and prayers from afar. To each one of you, I ask you to continue to support me by praying to God to let me be his gentle and firm pastor of his church. ~ Pope Benedict XVI

His crying stops instantly the minute Ry cradles him in her arms. He knows. How simple is that? And if I thought I was sucker-punched before, the sight of her holding our son is the knockout punch. I'm looking down at his little face and hers next to each other, and shit I never expected to feel in my life surges through me, wraps around my heart, and fills it in a way I never thought was possible ~ K. Bromberg

We all come out of the same abyss; but each of us, a trial throw of the dice from the depths, strives toward his own goal. ~ Hermann Hesse

Jesus' life is an invitation for us to believe, not primarily in him but in the relationship between himself and the God whom he names "Father." Furthermore, Jesus comes into the world to communicate to those of us who are listening that this very same relationship is uniquely available to each one of us. By his life and death Jesus announces the yearning in the heart of Love Divine, to be in relationship with each individual person. For you or I to engage this primal encounter is for us to return "home. ~ Henri J.M. Nouwen

He, Cromwell, says to his visitors, just tell them this, and tell them loud: to each monk, one bed: to each bed, one monk. Is that so hard for them? ~ Hilary Mantel

Whatever one of us blames in another, each one will find in his own heart. ~ Lucius Annaeus Seneca

The world can only be free when men are content in themselves and each draws from his own fountain. ~ George William Russell

What franticke fit (quoth he) hath thus distraught
Thee, foolish man, so rash a doome to give?
What justice ever other judgement taught,
But he should die, who merites not to live?
None else to death this man despayring drive,
But his owne guiltie mind deserving death.
Is then unjust to each his due to give?
Or let him die, that loatheth living breath?
Or let him die at ease, that liveth here uneath?

Who travels by the wearie wandring way,
To come unto his wished home in haste,
And meetes a flood, that doth his passage stay,
Is not great grace to helpe him over past,
Or free his feet, that in the myre sticke fast?
Most envious man, that grieves at neighbours good,
And fond, that joyest in the woe thou hast,
Why wilt not let him passe, that long hath stood
Upon the banke, yet wilt thy selfe not passe the flood?

He there does now enjoy eternall rest
And happie ease, which thou doest want and crave,
And further from it daily wanderest:
What if some litle paine the passage have,
That makes fraile flesh to feare the bitter wave?
Is not short paine well borne, that brings long ease,
And layes the soule to sleepe in quiet grave?
Sleepe after toyle, port after stormie seas,
Ease after warre, death after life does greatly please.

[...]

Is not his deed, what ever thing is donne,
In heaven and earth? did not he all creat ~ Edmund Spenser

Each bird must sing with his own throat. ~ Henrik Ibsen

What is justice? Two forces collide. Each may have the right in his own sphere. And here's where an Emperor commands orderly solutions. Those collisions he cannot prevent
he solves. ~ Frank Herbert

I trust you had a pleasant walk, Ian," he said when her door closed upstairs.
Ian stiffened slightly in the act of pouring some leftover coffee into a mug and glanced over his shoulder. One look at his uncle's expression told him that the older man was well aware that desire, not a need for fresh air, had caused Ian to take Elizabeth for a walk. "What do you think?" he asked irritably.
"I think you've upset her repeatedly and deliberately, which is not your ordinary behavior with women."
"There is nothing ordinary about Elizabeth Cameron."
"I completely agree," said the vicar with a smile in his voice. Closing his book, he put it aside. "I also think she is strongly attracted to you, and you are to her. That much is perfectly obvious."
"Then it should be equally obvious to a man of your discernment," Ian said in a low, implacable voice, "that we are completely ill-suited to each other. It's a moot issue in any case; I'm marrying someone else."
Duncan opened his mouth to comment on that, saw the expression on Ian's face, and gave up. ~ Judith McNaught

We clung to each other with blind loyalty, like Lord Voldemort and his snake, Nagini. I, of course, was Nagini. If you messed with one of us, you knew you messed with both of us, and Voldemort was going to cast a murder spell on you, or Nagini was going to chomp on your jugular. ~ Mindy Kaling

Stephen raised his hands and shouted, "You stiff-necked and uncircumcised in heart and ears! You always resist the Holy Spirit. As your fathers did, so do you!" Ezra saw lances of genuine pain stab each of the men seated at the Council table. He felt again the power of his own guilt and regret and distress. Stephen finished with, "You now have become the betrayers and murderers, you who have received the law by the direction of angels and have not kept it! ~ Janette Oke

His scent burst onto her brain like a rain of lights, causing her to know him perfectly. This is how moths speak to each other. The wrong words are impossible when there are no words. ~ Barbara Kingsolver

But though there are frequent misunderstandings between the Europeans and the Americans, at least we've had decades of shared movies and TV to help us get used to each other. Outside those bounds you can't make any assumptions at all. In China, for instance, the poet James Fenton was once stopped for having a light on his bicycle.
"How would it be," the police officer asked him severely, "if everybody did that? ~ Douglas Adams

Dark Fae are evil. They do evil things to each other, but there is an unspoken rule that you never harm family."
She held him tighter, wishing she could take away his pain with a hug. "Families hurt each other all the time. ~ Donna Grant

The coming of Jesus at Bethlehem brought joy to the world and to every human heart. may His coming this Christmas bring to each one of us that peace and joy that He desires to give. ~ Mother Teresa

Each of us bears his own Hell. ~ Virgil

Men have sometimes exchanged names with their friends, as if they would signify that in their friend each loved his own soul. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Men strengthen each other in their faults. Those who are alike associate together, repeat the things which all believe, defend and stimulate their common faults of disposition, and each one receives from the others a reflection of his own egotism. ~ Henry Ward Beecher

These galleries are hung, mostly, with images from 'Frog and Toad,' and he moves from each to each, not really seeing them but rather remembering the experience of viewing them for the first time, in JB's studio, when he and Willem were new to each other, when he felt as if he was growing new body parts - a second heart, a second brain - to accommodate this excess of feeling, the wonder of his life. ~ Hanya Yanagihara