c2p-cmd/Good-Quotes-Authors huggingface dataset:
Moshe was an Israeli with an ear-slitting laugh. He used it in the same way as a madman uses a gun, spraying it around with bewildering randomness.
— Alex Garland, The Beach
Drive-Thru McDonalds was more expensive than I thought...once you've hired the car...
— Tim Key
You got to laugh Tree, if you don't you'll cry.
— Joan Bauer
If voting changed anything... I'd still laugh!
— Matt Paradise, Bearing the Devil's Mark
I can't think I had much of a sense of humor as long as I remained the only child. When my brother Edward came along we both became comics, making each other laugh.
— Eudora Welty, On Writing
When you can laugh about something, you know it is healed.
— Alan Cohen
It's a powerful experience, shitting. There's something magical about it, profound even. I think God made humans shit in the way we do because it brings us back down to earth and gives us humility. I don't care who you are, we all shit the same. Beyonce shits. The pope shits. The Queen of England shits. When we shit we forget our airs and our graces, we forget how famous or how rich we are. All of that goes away. You are never more yourself than when you're taking a shit. You have that moment where you realize, 'This is me. This is who I am.
— Trevor Noah, Born a Crime: Stories From a South African Childhood
Suddenly I had to laugh. It was like realising you definitely need to projectile vomit when you thought you had it under control in some imprisoning form of public space.
— Olivia Sudjic, Sympathy
I learned a long time ago that you have to be able to laugh no matter what. Otherwise you start weeping and never stop.
— Catherine Jones Payne, Breakwater
Did you do this?”“There are other ways to beat someone than with fists.” Radu poked her in the side with a finger.She surprised him by laughing. He stood up straighter, a proud grin at having surprised and delighted Lada bursting across his face. She never laughed unless she was laughing at him. He had done something right!Then the lashings began.Radu’s smile wilted and died. He looked away. He was safe now. And Lada was proud of him, which had never happened before. He focused on that to ignore the sick feelings twisting his stomach as Aron and Andrei cried out in pain. He wanted his nurse—wanted her to hold and comfort him—and this, too, made him feel ashamed.Lada watched the whip with a calculating look. “Still,” she said. “Fists are faster.
— Kiersten White, And I Darken
September laughed and her laugh sounded like a roar; as if she had never been able to properly laugh in her whole life, only giggle or chuckle or grin, and now that she could do it right, now that her laughing had grown up and put bells on, it had become the most boisterous, rowdy roar you ever heard.
— Catherynne M. Valente, The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland and Led the Revels There
You know you've reached a very sad place when the only person who can make you laugh is yourself.
— Rick Yancey, The Last Star
Something wonderful has happened to me. I was carried up into the seventh heaven. There all the gods sat assembled. By special grace I was granted the favor of a wish. "Will you," said Mercury, "have youth, or beauty, or power, or a long life, or the most beautiful maiden, or any of the other glories we have in the chest? Choose, but only one thing." For a moment I was at a loss. Then I addressed myself to the gods as follows: "Most honorable contemporaries, I choose this one thing, that I may always have the laugh on my side." Not one of the gods said a word, on the contrary, they all began to laugh. Hence, I concluded that my request was granted, and found that the gods knew how to express themselves with great taste; for it would hardly have been suitable for them to answer gravely: "It is granted thee.
— Søren Kierkegaard, Either/Or: A Fragment of Life
I didn't think he'd go back for him. But it shouldn't surprise me, either, I guess . . . given their relationship. I'm extremely curious where they're hiding him, as he doesn't blend. At all. Ever. I can't imagine where they could put him that he wouldn't attract a lot of attention . . . in either form." Xev"Well, aren't we Mr. Dark and Cryptic . . . shall we call him?" Nick pulls out his phone."I doubt he knows how to work that. I'm sure he'd sniff it and eat it if you gave him one. Do you know where they're keeping him?" Xev"You know how akri-Caleb's house is up off the ground and gots all that room under it for storage?" Simi"Oh dear Gods, he's in my wine cellar? Seriously? I'm thinking I should have made amends with my brother sooner and moved him into my house to watch the puca. What kind of mutant life form do I have living in my cellar? And do I need to fumigate my house?"" Caleb
— Sherrilyn Kenyon, Invision
A clown makes you laugh it doesn't mean he knows how to perform a surgery.
— kambiz shabankareh, The Last Smile of The Plaster-man
She was dark-haired, fierce; she wore two drop earrings made of crystal; her face was a pure oval tickled with dimples; her skin was golden; and her laugh was like a fire in the night. But on her face you could also read the concentration of a soul whose life is entirely inward, and a mischievous gravity which acquires a silver patina with age.
— Muriel Barbery, The Life of Elves
I finally made eye contact with the boy in the bed. He lay on his side, a tube in his nose and another in his vein. His cheeks were sunken, and his skin was ghostly pale. His hair might have been blond, but it was fading into a gray, making it hard to tell. The only part of this boy that held any life at all were his eyes, which brimmed with tears when he saw me.“Kahlen?”I sat still. These three people all called me by the same name, which sounded sort of like Katlyn and Ellen and made me believe that maybe they actually knew me.“Where did you go? Where have you been? I thought you were dead.” His chest worked overtime, trying to keep up with his mouth, spilling over with words.“Can you get her a pen? Please?” He lifted an arm weakly. It was all bone. “I just need to know.”“A pen?” I asked.Once again his eyes lit up.“You can talk?”I stared at this boy, at how he was overjoyed at one of the most basic things a person could do. “So it would seem.” I smiled.He flopped onto his back, laughing from his gut, and based on Julie’s tears, I was guessing she’d been waiting a long time for that to come back.
— Kiera Cass, The Siren
Time if abused is always sure to have the last laugh.
— Steven Redhead, Life Is Simply A Game
I loved laughing with him, loved that he could make me laugh.
— James Patterson, Sam's Letters to Jennifer
Something wonderful has happened to me. I was carried up into the seventh heaven. There all the gods sat assembled. By special grace I was granted the favor of a wish. "Will you," said Mercury, "have youth, or beauty, or power, or a long life, or the most beautiful maiden, or any of the other glories we have in the chest? Choose, but only one thing." For a moment I was at a loss. Then I addressed myself to the gods as follows: "Most honorable contemporaries, I choose this one thing, that I may always have the laugh on my side." Not one of the gods said a word, on the contrary, they all began to laugh. Hence, I concluded that my request was granted, and found that the gods knew how to express themselves with taste; for it would hardly have been suitable for them to have answered gravely: "It is granted thee.
— Søren Kierkegaard, Either/Or: A Fragment of Life
They who laugh the hardest are the same ones who have fought the toughest.The winner, though fraught with scarsstands alone,wholly victorious.
— Tara Estacaan
If you're going to look back on something and laugh about it, you might as well laugh about it now...Things are almost never as bad as they first seem. Loosen up, girlfriend... you could giggle more in real life.
— James Patterson, Sam's Letters to Jennifer
Something wonderful has happened to me. I was carried up into the seventh heaven. There all the gods sat assembled. By special grace I was granted the favor of a wish. "Will you," said Mercury, "have youth, or beauty, or power, or a long life, or the most beautiful maiden, or any of the other glories we have in the chest? Choose, but only one thing." For a moment I was at a loss. Then I addressed myself to the gods as follows: "Most honorable contemporaries, I choose this one thing, that I may always have the laugh on my side." Not one of the gods said a word, on the contrary, they all began to laugh. Hence, I concluded that my request was granted, and found that the gods knew how to express themselves with great taste; for it would hardly have been suitable for them to answer gravely: "It is granted thee".
— Søren Kierkegaard, Either/Or: A Fragment of Life
You clumsy wench—Gods above! Are you trying to rob me, girl?” The nobleman seizes my wrist and yanks it from his pocket. My hand comes up with the pipe clenched in it. I stare at him, horrified.“I . . .”“I’ll have your head for this!” the man rages. “I’ll have you whipped!”***“I got the pipe,” I say, holding it up.He stares for a minute, blinking, and then bursts into laughter. A few curious deer stick their heads through the shrubs to see what the racket is. Aladdin doubles over, laughing loud enough to startle birds from the trees overhead, and after a moment, I start laughing too. I haven’t laughed this hard in a long, long while, and it feels wonderful. We sit on the grass and laugh until our faces are red and we’re out of breath.“You are the worst thief I have ever seen,” declares Aladdin.“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I got it, didn’t I?”“My grandmother could pick pockets better than that! Though that’s not quite fair; my grandmother was the best pickpocket in Parthenia. She taught me all her tricks. Drove my mother crazy.
— Jessica Khoury, The Forbidden Wish
This two quotes make me laugh"Andre Linoge: Born in lust, turn to dust. Born in sin, COME ON IN." (Stephen King on Storm of the Century)"We are on location, not on vacation"(Unnatural 2015 Film)Everyday when I read it or I repeat it makes me laugh it's kind a joke. The first one is a killer joke, the second one is...(you guess from who is this joke!)
— Deyth Banger
When I watch a movie or read a book, be it a melodrama or horror, I always hate the female character... Well, most of the time I do.Why? Because she is always dumb.I shit you not.For example in this one chick-flick movie, "Serendipity", Sara tells that Jonathan guy that she won't give him her number because if they are meant to meet again, they will. Seriously? Romantic movie my ass, there's not anything romantic in letting go of someone when you can grab them with both of your hands. That is not romantic, THAT is stupid.In another movie the girl storms out, never hearing the guy out, just like in that one book I've been reading recently, "Tangled". Now this is an issue with most of the books and chick-flicks. Like why? Why won't you stop a minute, take a deep breath, count to ten and listen to the guy. Only after that, for God's sake, say ‘fuck you’ then ‘Namaste’ and then walk away while swaying your hips like there is no tomorrow? Let them know what they will be missing for the rest of their lives.In some other movies I hate the main female character because of the scriptwriters. The girl somehow always appears in front of the guy out of nowhere. Like he can be walking down the street and then boom! ABRACADABRA! The main girl bumps into him in NYC out of all places. They make it seem like whatever they do their steps always bring them back to each other. Dumb, I know.
— Melanie Sargsian, Lovember: A Collection of Short Love Stories
Start to laugh and everything will go well.
— Deyth Banger
Love me, and I will laugh for you, and if you can make me laugh, my laughter will, quite simply, ransom the whole of the world from death.
— Catherynne M. Valente, Radiance
She's better than Netflix.
— Charlotte Huang, Going Geek
She laughed and laughed and laughed until the vowels were rolling across the walls and floors, as if they meant to do away with the laws of time and space. It made Ove feel as if his chest was slowly rising out of the ruins of a collapsed house after an earthquake. It gave his heart space to beat again.
— Fredrik Backman, A Man Called Ove
And he laughs. Not the heavy laughter from before. It’s a great laugh. A deep laugh. One that makes my lips lift. Isaiah, the guy who an hour ago carried himself like a jungle predator, now has the content aura of a lazy cat bathing in the sun.
— Katie McGarry, Crash into You
She yanked her hand away as if he had burned her, rubbing her palm along her thigh. The feeling didn’t go away, and neither did the butterflies he had sent winging in her stomach. “How do you know you’re not a vampire?” She needed to distract him, distract both of them. “Maybe you forgot. You’re certainly capable of acting like one.” This time he laughed, startling both of them. The sound was husky, low, and foreign to his ears, as if he had forgotten what it was like. His black eyes leapt to her face almost in fear. “Not bad, wild man. First a growl, and now a laugh. We’re making progress.” Her eyes danced at him, reassured him.
— Christine Feehan, Dark Desire
Laugh as much as possible. Because this makes your life better!
— Deyth Banger
He paused and manufactured a chuckle.
— Carl Hiaasen, Hoot
When I was young, I forgot how to laugh in the cave of Trophonius; when I was older, I opened my eyes and beheld reality, at which I began to laugh, and since then, I have not stopped laughing. I saw that the meaning of life was to secure a livelihood, and that its goal was to attain a high position; that love’s rich dream was marriage with an heiress; that friendship’s blessing was help in financial difficulties; that wisdom was what the majority assumed it to be; that enthusiasm consisted in making a speech; that it was courage to risk the loss of ten dollars; that kindness consisted in saying, “You are welcome,” at the dinner table; that piety consisted in going to communion once a year. This I saw, and I laughed.
— Søren Kierkegaard
Lazy people, the truly lazy people live on information, strategies, ideas, plans and many other criticals, simply to spend one hour of hard work and make the rest feel like a breeze.
— Alan Rios
The capacity for unclouded enjoyment, she thought, does not belong to irresponsible fools; an inviolate peace of spirit is not the achievement of a drifter; to be able to laugh like that is the end result of the most profound, most solemn thinking.
— Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged
Some men laugh easily. It makes them winning dinner companions.
— Joe Abercrombie, Best Served Cold
And does he like blondes, as well?'Rob laughed. I had forgotten just how great a laugh he had. 'No, he prefers, dark haired women. You've nothing to fear from the Sentinel, Nicola.
— Susanna Kearsley, The Firebird
Do you know what made me fall in love with you?" George asked suddenly. Anne shook her head, puzzled that he should ask her this now. "I heard you laugh, down the hall, just before I got to Spanish class that first day. I couldn't see you. I just heard this fabulous laugh, like a whole octave, top to bottom. And I had to hear it again.
— Mary Doria Russell, The Sparrow
When they laugh, it sounds like confetti.
— Jodi Picoult, Leaving Time
We seem to live in a world where you have to walk around grinning like a loon. I can’t understand all the fuss about Mona Lisa painting, everyone wondering why she’s not smiling, if she’s depressed or heartbroken. No, she was just normal!Emotions are always extreme these days: you either have to be crying with laughter or crying in pain. No wonder water levels are rising. It’s not global warming, it’s all the tears from crying.
— Karl Pilkington
I break out laughing. I frown.I yell and scream. Sometimes,if one jokes and giggles,one causes war.So I hide how tickled I am.Tears well up in my eyes.My body is a large city.Much grieving in one sector.I live in another part.Lakewater.Something on fire over here.I am sour when you are sour,sweet when you are sweet.You are my face and my back.Only through you can I knowthis back-scratching pleasure.Now people the likes of you and Icome clapping, inventing dances,climbing into this high meadow.I am a spoiled parrot who eats only candy.I have no interest in bitter food.Some have been given harsh knowledge. Not I.Some are lame and jerking along.I am smooth and glidingly quick.Their road is full of washed-out placesand long inclines. Mine isroyally level, effortless.The huge Jerusalem mosque stands inside me,and women full of light.Laughter leaps out.It is the nature of the rose to laugh.It cannot help but laugh.
— Jalaluddin Rumi, Bridge to the Soul: Journeys Into the Music and Silence of the Heart
If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans...
— Waheed Khan
Why do we have to humiliate someone to crack a joke??? Do what u would like people to do with u..
— honeya
Laugh represents a fragile glory of the mankind in this cruel and uncertain universe!
— Mehmet Murat ildan
I laugh because your pain is amusing.
— Lauren Dane, Once and Again
Happiness is so simple in life:If I laugh then you are laughing too.
— Kristian Goldmund Aumann, Love Poems: Love Conquers All
There should be a word for a laugh that ends as soon as it starts. A laugh that's more a syllable of surprise and acknowledgment than it is anything else.
— Rainbow Rowell, Fangirl
You haven't lived till you have laughed and made others laugh.
— Tanushree Podder
Have you ever seen a god laugh? It makes you catch your breath and feel hopeful and shivery and excited all at the same time. That's how it was watching Cal.
— Cate Tiernan, Book of Shadows
Actually, Elizabeth realized, when he laughed like that, he did look quite handsome. His dark brown hair and his eyes, so light a brown as to seem almost gold in color, were not quite as nondescript as she'd once thought. Maybe the giggling young ingenues weren't completely daft. Despite his maddening tendencies to be deliberately obtuse and tease her relentlessly, he had a certain charisma.
— Emma Wildes, Our Wicked Mistake
He who laughs and loves is always rich
—  he who sulks and hates is always poor!
The laugh came then, a marvelous honking hoorah so infectious that Dill felt it should be quarantined.
— Ross Thomas, Briarpatch
I instantly like people who laugh at my jokes. It's a weakness of mine.
— Matthew Norman, Domestic Violets
A sense of humor helps us to get through the dull times, cope with the difficult times, enjoy the good times and manage the scary times.
— Steve Goodier
We can't know if we laugh at ourselves for being silly or to forget that we're not and that we are still here only by a sufferance that can be no more predicted than appeased. Like most things, probably a little of both.
— Brian McGreevy, Hemlock Grove
A day without laugh is a day without life.
— Mehmet Murat ildan
If you are thinking whether to cry or laugh, cry.
— Nikola Ivanovski
Life is sweet absurdity, Sir Wizard. Laugh your way through it.
— Lita Burke, Old Bony Blue Eyes
What if it's just a big, cosmic joke?Then...laugh!.85.
— Dee Lestari, Madre: Kumpulan Cerita
People may ask "why do you laugh at simple things?" Tell them that why don't you? Life is too short to make it so miserable.
— Kenneth de Guzman
I haven't stopped looking for the good in people. I've just accepted the fact that I'm not always going to find it.
— Patti LaBelle
Xav sprinkled olive oil on his lettuce. 'Lola was very particular that it all had to fit properly.' 'Lola?' squeaked Diamond. I wanted to warn her not to rise to the bait Xav was dangling in front of her but it was too late. Xav added some Parmesan and pepper. 'Suspicious, Diamond? You should be. This is a bachelor party I'm organizing, not a school outing, and it is going to tick all of Trace's boxes. Lola is either a very efficient water sports instructor or an exotic dancing girl; I'll leave it your imagination.' I rolled my eyes at Diamond. 'Myabe she's both. I mean the guys will really go for that, I guess. Don't worry,Di, Luigi and his crew will not disappoint us girls.' Luigi was in fact Contessa Nicoletta's little bespectacled chef with whom I had been consulting about the menu for Friday, but the Benedicts weren't to know that. 'He has promised to provide something suitably spicy for our tastes.
— Joss Stirling, Seeking Crystal
Because, life's too short, my friends. Let's squeeze in as many laughs as we can get.
— Neil Pasricha, The Book of Awesome
She threw back her head with a laugh that made her chins ripple like little waves.
— Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence
but laugh, laugh, laugh, because if you ever stop laughing, it might just tear you apart
— Neal Shusterman
I'm a laugh tart. I make no secret of that fact.
— Hugh Grant
Always say “yes” to the present moment. What could be more futile, more insane, than to create inner resistance to what already is? what could be more insane than to oppose life itself, which is now and always now? Surrender to what is. Say “yes” to life — and see how life suddenly starts working for you rather than against you.
— Eckhart Tolle
The reason why many are still troubled, still seeking, still making little forward progress is because they haven't yet come to the end of themselves. We're still trying to give orders, and interfering with God's work within us. 
— A.W. Tozer
You cannot fulfil God's purposes for your life while focusing on your own plans. 
— Rick Warren, The Purpose Driven Life: What on Earth Am I Here for?
TRIPPING OVER JOYWhat is the differenceBetween your experience of ExistenceAnd that of a saint?The saint knowsThat the spiritual pathIs a sublime chess game with GodAnd that the BelovedHas just made such a Fantastic MoveThat the saint is now continuallyTripping over JoyAnd bursting out in LaughterAnd saying, “I Surrender!”Whereas, my dear,I am afraid you still thinkYou have a thousand serious moves.
— I Heard God Laughing: Poems of Hope and Joy
At fifteen life had taught me undeniably that surrender, in its place, was as honorable as resistance, especially if one had no choice.
— Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
Surrender is a powerful force.
— P.C. Cast, Burned
Go home, and let all your relatives off the potter's wheel. You are not the potter!
— Joyce Meyer
The gap between compassion and surrender is love’s darkest, deepest region.
— Orhan Pamuk, The Museum of Innocence
Kev wasn't certain if he was surrendering to Win or to his own passion for her. Only that there was no more holding back. He would take her. And he would give her everything he had, every part of his soul, even the broken pieces.
— Lisa Kleypas, Seduce Me at Sunrise
It's healthy to say uncle when your bone's about to break.
— Jonathan Franzen, How to Be Alone
The proper good of a creature is to surrender itself to its Creator—to enact intellectually, volitionally, and emotionally, that relationship which is given in the mere fact of its being a creature. When it does so, it is good and happy.
— C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain
Listen through your screams to the wind still whispering: Don't give up -- Surrender!
— Eric Ganther
Oh, the sweetness of giving in, of full surrender.
— Sebastian Faulks, Engleby
Maybe if she saw Jag again... maybe that would wake her up. But if she sees him and remembers, I'm nobody. In more than ways than one.
— Elana Johnson, Surrender
A man's only got so many yeses inside him before he uses them all up.
— Pat Conroy, The Prince of Tides
The poor wretch, she had given up so much and could yet smile at her trouble. He himself had never surrendered to anything in life - that was what life demanded of you - surrender. For reward it gave you love, this swarthy, skin-deep love that exacted remorseless penalties.
— A.E. Coppard, Dusky Ruth: And Other Stories
The pain of being in the stress and anxiety of control and fear must reach a point where you don’t want to feel it anymore and then you are ready to truly surrender and let go.
— Eileen Anglin
Surrendering and letting go isn't not taking action.There is a difference. Taking action is moving forward and surrendering is letting go of fear.
— Eileen Anglin
Beware of surrender that is motivated by personal benefits that may result.
— Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest
Our ordinary and reasonable service to God may actually compete against our total surrender to Him.
— Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest
Gaining heaven, being delivered from sin, and being made useful to God are things that should never even be a consideration in real surrender.
— Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest
Surrender to God.
— Lailah Gifty Akita
Surrendering to God is not passive resignation, fatalism, or an excuse for laziness.
— Rick Warren, The Purpose Driven Life: What on Earth Am I Here for?
God cannot deliver me while my interest is merely in my own character. Paul was not conscious of himself. He was recklessly abandoned, totally surrendered, and separated by God for one purpose--to proclaim the gospel of God.
— Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest
This total surrender to 'the love of Christ' is the only thing that will bear fruit in your life. And it will always leave the mark of God's holiness and His power, never drawing attention to your personal holiness.
— Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest
To Confess Is To Surrender
— Sunday Adelaja
To be surrendered to God is of more value than our personal holiness.
— Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest
Remember, truth cannot be conquered. One has to surrender to truth, one has to be conquered by truth.
— Osho, The Secret of Secrets
We all have a tendency to use prayer to dictate to God.
— Jen Pollock Michel, Teach Us to Want: Longing, Ambition & the Life of Faith
When wecompletely surrender to Him then our thoughts begin to change.
— Nikki Vilano
There's nothing unmanly about surrender. It takes a brave man to give in.
— Dev Bentham, Driving into the Sun
Don't hold on too long;to which does not belong, Don't shed a tear; for all the pain that's gone,Create a new;from the wisdom of the past, Open your heart wider, as storms do not last.
— Nikki Rowe, Once a Girl, Now a Woman
The Ninysh might have resisted a bit harder. I don't mean to imply that they were cowards...," Maurizio said shrugging, clearly implying that the Ninysh were cowards.
— Rachel Hartman, Shadow Scale
Sometimes it is no great shame to give in, even to despair, provided that it is just for a little while. Sometimes a little surrender is good for the soul.
— Alexia Casale, The Bone Dragon
It's easier to surrender to confinement.
— Jhumpa Lahiri, The Namesake
Surrender is when we come to the end of our struggle with ourselves and God can begin. Surrender is acknowledging that we need Divine Intervention; we don’t know it all, we do not see what God sees.When we give ourselves the first 15 minutes of the first hour of the day, to pray, meditate, read, journal, reflect, silently inquire after God, we set the tone for clear thinking throughout our day. - SHANNON TANNER
— Shannon Tanner, Worthy: The POWER of Wholeness
Surrender is when we stop toiling and striving and we begin receiving and arriving. Nothing is more beautiful to experience than the inner rest that follows surrender.
— Shannon Tanner
Writing, it's Feeling. spontaneous urges touching upon each of the senses the moment the pen magnetises into fingertips spilling out currents of words in panicked ink splatters, unmanaged, unfiltered & channeled.wept out, breath subtle,surrounded by empty sound. static brush,while wrist sweeps across lanes,crossing lines, giving in,its desperation, its surrender,where its heading,where its been.
— L V HALL
Let go of everything. That is how you get everything.
— Bryant McGill, Simple Reminders: Inspiration for Living Your Best Life
I couldn’t fight the tide, so Idecided to float along.
— David Levithan
God is committed when we are submitted! Surrender whatever you're holding onto!
— Evinda Lepins, A Cup of Grace for the Day: Coffee Hour with Chicklit Power
Why not simply surrender to one’s doom, since one was so clearly, so spectacularly, doomed?
— Paul Russell, The Coming Storm
You want something real bad? Go after it with ferocity like if your life depended on it and never ever surrender. Only a question of time.
— Ziad K. Abdelnour, Economic Warfare: Secrets of Wealth Creation in the Age of Welfare Politics
Surrender activates the Law of Attraction
— Annette Vaillancourt, How to Manifest Your Soulmate with Eft: Relationship as a Spiritual Path
Once you truly surrender, you won’t feel like you are waiting anymore. You won’t know how quickly or where your SoulMate will show up. Prepare to be surprised!
— Annette Vaillancourt, How to Manifest Your Soulmate with Eft: Relationship as a Spiritual Path
Surrender doesn’t have to be a heavy, solemn thing. It can be a joyous relief. Finally the burden is off you.
— Annette Vaillancourt, How to Manifest Your Soulmate with Eft: Relationship as a Spiritual Path
When you surrender, you live in eager anticipation of the surprise. The dual weights of yearning and despair are cast off.
— Annette Vaillancourt, How to Manifest Your Soulmate with Eft: Relationship as a Spiritual Path
We should not shed tears.That is a surrender of the body to the heart.It is only proofThat we are beings that do not knowWhat to do with our hearts
— Tite Kubo, Bleach, Volume 07
We think it’s weak to surrender, but sometimes it’s the bravest thing we can possibly do.
— Toni Sorenson
It is also good to love: because love is difficult. For one human being to love another human being: that is perhaps the most difficult task that has been entrusted to us, the ultimate task, the final test and proof, the work for which all other work is merely preparation.... Loving does not at first mean merging, surrendering, and uniting with another person (for what would a union be of two people who are unclarified, unfinished, and still incoherent?), it is a high inducement for the individual to ripen, to become something in himself, to become world, to become world in himself for the sake of another person; it is a great, demanding claim on him, something that chooses him and calls him to vast distances... Merging and surrendering and every kind of communion is not for them (who must still, for a long, long time, save and gather themselves); it is the ultimate, is perhaps that for which human lives are as yet barely large enough.
— Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet
Fear of death is fear of surrender to Infinity. Learn to surrender, to exist at Infinity while alive, and fear of death dissolves. Fear of death is fear of the Unknown. Realize the Wonder, the Eternal Unknowability of the Totality of Existence, and fear of death is transcended. If happiness or freedom depends on the Answer to the Question, then there can be no happiness or freedom. The Question cannot be satisfactorily or finally Answered. For one who abides at Infinity, happy and free, at ease with his Ultimate Ignorance, the Question and the Answer are equally unnecessary. What began will come to an end. What is Wonderful is not threatened. The Process of the Totality of Existence is Transcendental and Eternal. Only a fraction of the Whole can pass away in any moment, since only a fraction of the Whole appears in any moment. Therefore, the Heart Itself is always already Full of Wonder and Love. "I" is the body-mind, the fraction of the Whole that is now appearing and will soon disappear. "I" must be surrendered to the Heart, to the Whole, which is Infinity, Wonder, and Love.
— Adi Da Samraj, The Eating Gorilla Comes in Peace: The Transcendental Principle of Life Applied to Diet and the Regenerative Discipline of True Health
It is generally the trustful and optimistic people who can afford to retreat. The loveless and faithless ones are compelled by their pessimism to attack.
— T.H. White, The Ill-Made Knight
...there was a certain comfort in surrender.
— Adam Langer, The Salinger Contract
A surrendered day is a good day.
— Danielle Boonstra
Their raspy kisses brand our jam tart necks, their treacherous miasma clasps our herbal thighs. Motherlessly we surrender, too many fathers we have, we, your daughters of joy.
— Laura Gentile, Seraphic Addiction
Have this faith that someone is there to take away your weaknesses. Ok, you slipped once, twice, thrice. It does not matter. Keep moving ahead. People take vows never to commit mistakes again. Breaking the vows makes it worse. Surrendering is better
— Sri Sri Ravi Shankar
Every person has a season for knowledge.
— Elana Johnson, Surrender
We’re all broken. We all have cracks. It’s not about making it through life in one piece it’s about narrowing the gap between the fissures so we don’t shatter.”Ted Basel to Jo Nehr in my next "Surrender" story
— Riley  Murphy
I love you, I’ve loved you for years and I’ll love you for years more. It’s not something I can fight, it’s not something I want to fight.
— Somi Ekhasomhi, Always Yours
DADDYYou do not do, you do not doAny more, black shoeIn which I have lived like a footFor thirty years, poor and white,Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.Daddy, I have had to kill you.You died before I had time―Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,Ghastly statue with one grey toeBig as a Frisco sealAnd a head in the freakish AtlanticWhen it pours bean green over blueIn the waters of beautiful Nauset.I used to pray to recover you.Ach, du.In the German tongue, in the Polish townScraped flat by the rollerOf wars, wars, wars.But the name of the town is common.My Polack friendSays there are a dozen or two.So I never could tell where youPut your foot, your root,I never could talk to you.The tongue stuck in my jaw.It stuck in a barb wire snare.Ich, ich, ich, ich,I could hardly speak.I thought every German was you.And the language obsceneAn engine, an engineChuffing me off like a Jew.A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.I began to talk like a Jew.I think I may well be a Jew.The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of ViennaAre not very pure or true.With my gypsy ancestress and my weird luckAnd my Taroc pack and my Taroc packI may be a bit of a Jew.I have always been scared of you,With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.And your neat mustacheAnd your Aryan eye, bright blue.Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You―Not God but a swastikaSo black no sky could squeak through.Every woman adores a Fascist,The boot in the face, the bruteBrute heart of a brute like you.You stand at the blackboard, daddy,In the picture I have of you,A cleft in your chin instead of your footBut no less a devil for that, no notAnd less the black man whoBit my pretty red heart in two.I was ten when they buried you.At twenty I tried to dieAnd get back, back, back to you.I thought even the bones would do.But they pulled me out of the sack,And they stuck me together with glue.And then I knew what to do.I made a model of you,A man in black with a Meinkampf lookAnd a love of the rack and the screw.And I said I do, I do.So daddy, I’m finally through.The black telephone’s off at the root,The voices just can’t worm through.If I’ve killed one man, I’ve killed two―The vampire who said he was youAnd drank my blood for a year,Seven years, if you want to know.Daddy, you can lie back now.There’s a stake in your fat black heartAnd the villagers never like you.They are dancing and stamping on you.They always knew it was you.Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I’m through.
— Sylvia Plath, Ariel
But what humans forget, cells remember. The body, that elephant
— Jeffrey Eugenides
Don't use a five-dollar word when a fifty-cent word will do.
— Mark Twain
Work on good prose has three steps: a musical stage when it is composed, an architectonic one when it is built, and a textile one when it is woven.
— Walter Benjamin
A changeableness, too, as if beneath my visible face there was another, having second thoughts.
— Jeffrey Eugenides, Middlesex
He turns and walks away, moving so quickly that the candle flames shiver with the motion of the air. “I miss you,” Isobel says as he leaves, but the sentiment is crushed by the clatter of the beaded curtain falling closed behind him.
— Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus
Juliet!' I whip around but not quickly enough. She's swallowed by the crowd, the gap that allowed her to break for the door closing just as quickly as it opened, a shifting Tetris pattern of bodies...
— Lauren Oliver, Before I Fall
A good sentence in prose should be like a good line in poetry, unchangeable, as rhythmic, as sonorous.
— Gustave Flaubert, Selected Letters
Rain woke him, a slow drizzle, his feet tangled in coils of discarded fiberoptics. The arcade's sea of sound washed over him, receded, returned. Rolling over, he sat up and held his head.
— William Gibson, Neuromancer
The displacement of water is equal to the something of something.
— William Faulkner
The scrape and snap of Keds on loose alley pebbles seems to catapult their voices high into the moist March air blue above the wires.
— John Updike
Raz was one of those vanguard human beings of indeterminate ethnicity, the magnificent mutts that I hope we are all destined to become given another millennium of intermixing. His skin was a rich pecan color from his dad, who was part African American and part native Hawaiian. His hair, straight and glossy black, and the almond shape of his eyes came from his Japanese grandmother. But their color was the cool blue he'd inherited from his mum, a Swedish windsurfing champion.
— Geraldine Brooks, People of the Book
As his dark closet shows, Bluebeard was a collector at heart, and even after dispatching a wife, could not let her fully depart.
— Shuli Barzilai, Tales of Bluebeard and His Wives from Late Antiquity to Postmodern Times
Feel no regret for roses, autumn too has its delights...How could she say that? Didn't she see that for us there could never be autumn, that we could never sit, as anyone else could sit, beside the fire all day on Sundays in November; that September's leaves, that fall for man and beast alike, were not our leaves to walk in; that October storms would never find us sharing an umbrella? The love of spring had thrived on wine and candles; now in the August of our lives, we needed newspapers and comfortable chairs. But it was impossible. No autumn--only a cold wind that blew through our summer, freezing the leaves in their places before they could motley and fall.
— Raphael Carter, The Fortunate Fall
Prose lies its way to the truth
— Bert McCoy
Closer, it’s all right. Touch the man of grief.Do. Don’t be afraid. My troubles are mine and I am the only man alive who can sustain them.
— Sophocles, Oedipus Rex
As she gobbled up the miles, big ravines appeared before her, their starving mouths open for the swallow.
— R.J.  Lawrence, The Xactilias Project
Iverson glanced down at my white-knuckled grip, then at my eyes. A hint of a smile more subtle than a single flick of snow crossed his face, and his eyes nodded approval.
— Allen Eskins
Oyin Da’s mind is as elegant as a French horn, thoughts moving in whorls and evoking fresh mint leaves.
— Tade Thompson, Rosewater
I have learned that love is often strongest where it is most threatened. Where it is most terrorised is where it most profusely grows.Lillian WhiteI Would Send You Poppies
— Lillian White
Coyote Mountain too much for her, alone with pine trees up to your neck, wooden bench by the Pecos River which runssilver in the winter untold. Dust-bit dirt lonely Indians with wet brown bellies which the moon shines upon like a frosty lake, the silver show of market stalls and paintings of four pitiful horses likes of which the Spanish brought under the Mexican memory of nightfall but the oldMing china-woman on her rickety bicycle with broken straw hat with bow-legged strength,simply; the perfect depiction of the fellaheen world riddled with ancient endeavour, the old china women of the world you’ll find them so perfect in all your cities under the twinkle of stars. Thewould be fishermen of dawn, collected wintery downpours and sunlight situations which never beckon further than his share, meant on this earth , match stick motels which warp your loving tales of good mornings or whichever is left.
— Samuel J Dixey, An evening in Autumn: The unbegotten procession
And just as he had tried, on the southern beach, to find again that unique rounded black pebble with the regular little white belt, which she had happened to show him on the eve of their last ramble, so now he did his best to look up all the roadside items that retained her exclamation mark: the special profile of a cliff, a hut roofed with a layer of silvery-gray scales, a black fir tree and a footbridge over a white torrent, and something which one might be inclined to regard as a kind of fatidic prefiguration: the radial span of a spider’s web between two telegraph wires that were beaded with droplets of mist. She accompanied him: her little boots stepped rapidly, and her hands never stopped moving, moving—to pluck a leaf from a bush or stroke a rock wall in passing—light, laughing hands that knew no repose. He saw her small face with its dense dark freckles, and her wide eyes, whose pale greenish hue was that of the shards of glass licked smooth by the sea waves.
— Vladimir Nabokov, The Return of Chorb
How might you measure men beneath our skies? The shear depth of the human heart and her capacity for humbleness?Like a scientific fraction huh, but I am born of these times so forgive me that. Under this grey skied dream which has already been, already dreamt. Already past? Might everything be just hindsight? Already known gone faded the sun too, so nothing like that to be worried about? AndEngland when did she fall or might she never have begun? Withered earth before the withered Sun? Your forever field will forever be in my heart; alas here I am bold content and never knowing.
— Samuel J Dixey, An evening in Autumn: The unbegotten procession
There will come a time in life, when you have to take decisions from your own. Choose wisely.As whatever you choose, will require your “complete time” & “attention”.So you must need to trust yourself,whenever you have to make a life’s decision.
— Ayushi Jain
The itchy reality of these places is that they are no place at all, they are nowhere. There’s a sleeping monster in nowhere, and it is older and bigger than you, it is island-sized, and it has never known happiness. If you’re ever nowhere at all, and you do think about it, and you can hardly think about anything else, and you can hardly breathe, and oh, God, it is awake, it is that grand realisation which nobody can speak. Don’t speak it! What would you say?But all is not lost, because in our language we have this phrase. We never have to be nowhere at all, we only ever have to be in the middle of nowhere, which is a softer, funnier place to be. Do you see? The phrase makes nowhere a place, with boundaries and a centre, and if there are boundaries then you can leave this place, you can travel in any direction and “nowhere” will cease to be, and this whole experience will be something you can laugh about.
— Quintin Smith
By degrees, the bitterness at my heart diffused itself to the circumference of the circle in which my life went its cheerless mechanical round.
— Edward Bulwer-Lytton, A Strange Story
He lifted his arm that had been resting on her shoulders and gazed at the words she had written on his hand. He had been branded as cattle are branded to show whom they belong to. The cold mountain air stung his lips. She was driving too fast on this road that had once been a forest. Early humans had lived in it. They studied fire and the movement of the sun. They read the clouds and the moon and tried to understand the human mind His father had tried to melt him into a Polish forest when he was five years old. He knew he must leave no trace or trail of his existence because he must never find his way home. That was what his father had told him. You cannot come home. This was not something possible to know but he had to know it all the same
— Deborah Levy, Swimming Home
You'd love a bit of pomp: that way in later years you might invoke end-of-empire ghosts.
— China Miéville, Embassytown
Rock rock. Back and forth. Lull. Push. Release. Swing back. The stars, the leaves, even the sound of the creek throbbing back and forth. Of a boat. Of a hammock. Of a child's swing. Of a womb. Back and forth. Rock rock. Smell of cold current, of stone, manure, blossom. Sleep.
— Peter Heller, The Dog Stars
There’s a big default notion that “spare,” or “precise” prose is somehow better. I keep insisting to them that while such prose is completely legitimate, it’s in no way intrinsically more accurate, more relevant, or better than lush prose. That adjective “precise,” for example, needs unpicking. If a “minimalist” writer describes a table, and a metaphor-ridden adjective-heavy weird fictioneer describes a table, they are very different, but the former is in absolutely no way closer to the material reality than the latter. Both of them are radically different from that reality. They’re just words. A table is a big wooden thing with my tea on it.
— China Miéville
In general, dividing literature into prose and poetry began with the appearance of prose, for only in prose could such a division be expressed. By its nature, by its essence, art is hierarchical, automatically, and in this hierarchy, poetry stands above prose. If only because poetry is older. Poetry really is a very strange thing, because it belongs to a troglodyte as well as to a snob. It can be produced in the Stone Age and in the most modern salon, whereas prose requires a developed society, a developed structure, certain established classes, if you like. Here you could start reasoning like a Marxist without even being wrong. The poet works from the voice, from the sound. For him, content is not as important as is ordinarily believed. For a poet, there is almost no difference between phonetics and semantics. Therefore, only very rarely does the poet give any thought to who in fact comprises his audience. That is, he does so much more rarely than the prose writer.
— Joseph Brodsky
She stopped then and turned her face toward him and the hateful wind.
— Toni Morrison
Bottom line, when someone defensively says their way of writing is their style, then that usually means they're making an excuse for poor prose.
— A.J. Flowers, A Guide to Writing Your First Novel
Gennia is eating and talking to Ruiz on the phone. Each time he takes a mouthful, he catches a whiff of his shirt, which stinks of failure and yesterday.
— Michael Robotham, Watching You
It ain't so easy writing about nothin
— Patti Smith, M Train
Flora took pleasure in the delicacy of her approach and studied the ways of the smallest, sweetest blooms she could find, tiny pimpernels and forget-me-nots hiding in the pockets of the fields. The energy of the sun on her body and the joy of foraging filled her soul. She flew the fields and gathered until the light began to fade and she heard the sound of her forager sisters' wings turning for home. Then she joined them.
— Laline Paull, The Bees
Speak without words. Know the weight of words
— SpillingInk
Mirabelle sat down, dropping into the cushions like a ball being caught in a large leather glove. 
— Sara Sheridan, British Bulldog
Victor was the first to speak, and when he did, it was with an eloquence and composure perfectly befitting the situation
— V.E. Schwab
As Raimbaut dragged a dead man along he thought, ‘Ohcorpse, I have come rushing here only to be dragged along by theheels like you. What is this frenzy that drives me, this mania forbattle and for love, when seen from the place where your staringeyes gaze and your flung-back head knocks over stones? It’s thatI think of, oh corpse, it’s that you make me think of: but does anythingchange? Nothing. No other days exist but these of oursbefore the tomb, both for us the living and for you the dead. Mayit be granted me not to waste them, not to waste anything of whatI am, of what I could be: to do deeds helpful to the Frankish cause:to embrace, to be embraced by, proud Bradamante. I hope youspent your days no worse, oh corpse. Anyway to you the dice have already shown their numbers. For me they are still whirling in thebox. And I love my own disquiet, corpse, not your peace.
— Italo Calvino
What did Saturday's used to taste like? Like eggs and fried ham and the bitter smell of hair in heavy rollers. Like long quiet hours and making up after a fight. Like ointment and bruising. Like waiting, especially, for something - anything - to happen.
— Lauren Oliver