c2p-cmd/Good-Quotes-Authors huggingface dataset:
GreenHollyWood is a stupid fat guy, saying (I will watch that and I will check that...) and in the end nothing there isn't progress why??To fat to move!(It's a black joke, do you get it?)
— Deyth Banger
What's the possibility of the ability of doing nothing?
— Deyth Banger
Eating pizza is like having a little heaven in your nose. Wait, that's not what you eat pizza with. I always get it confused with pizza-pie.
— Will Advise, Nothing is here...
Becoming nothing and no one was something she knew how to do.
— Dan Carr, New Horizons
Nothing was nothing else. Nothing was anything it shouldn’t be.
— Patrick Rothfuss, The Slow Regard of Silent Things
As the days and weeks and seasons wore on he found himself repeating this nothing, not wanting to. Gradually he came to understand that this particular nothing was all that he could really say now. He chanted it to himself in cell blocks and dingy apartments, recited it like a litany, ripped himself to rags against the sharp and ugly poetry of it. It echoed down the grimy hallways and squandered moments of his life, the answer to every question, the lyric of all songs.
— Scott  Hawkins, The Library at Mount Char
They were everything they ought to be and nothing else.
— Patrick Rothfuss, The Slow Regard of Silent Things
But is there really such a thing as nothing, as nothingness? I don't now. I know we're still here, who knows for how long, ablaze with our care, its ongoing song.
— Maggie Nelson
It's strange. How hollow i feel. Like there might be echoes inside of me. Like I'm one of those chocolate rabbits they used to sell around Easter, the ones that were nothing more than a sweet shell encapsulating a world of nothing. I'm like that. I encapsulate a world of nothing.
— Tahereh Mafi, Unravel Me
All he had was nothing, but that was something, and now it had been taken away.
— Terry Pratchett
I was a black center in the middle of all the nature. I was nothing, but I could do anything.
— James Franco
Nothing is ever enough.
— Daisy Whitney, When You Were Here
Nothing, nothing, the whole long day, nothing.
— Franz Kafka
You can always count on God to do nothing.
— Marty Rubin
The response closest to the truth was probably something like 'Nothing'
—  but it's always difficult to explain that kind of thing to an active person.
Only a stupid does something for nothing.
— M.F. Moonzajer, LOVE, HATRED AND MADNESS
Everything is nothing, but the beauty of nothing is everthing
— Sanjai panhwar
I got nothing to lose cause i got nothing.
— John Yang aka Private83
When you're used to having nothing, nothing becomes your everything, and you never really want for anything. But it's a double-edged sword, because there's the danger of becoming complacent, becoming too happy with that nothing, because you've never known anything better. Complacency is the death of dreams, and freedom.
— Isaac Hooke, ATLAS
When I say nothing, I say everything
— Jack White
Nothing has ever been achieved without trying
— Alex Munoz
It is at the times when I feel that I have nothing that the gem lies in the palm of my hand.
— Holly A. Smith, Fire of the Five Hearts: A Memoir of Treating Incest
I don't.""Don't what?" She asked, somewhat puzzled."I don't know many things. The only thing I know is that I know nothing.
— Grace Fiorre, The Nothing Spirit: Nothing is Everything
If poetry dies, nothing lives !
— Vihang A. Naik
Nothing is without meaning. What matters is you know that meaning or not.
— I Love the way you love me
If you have nothing, its mean you have everything to get.
— Mian Adeel
Nothing is mightier than our why, nothing stands above it, because in the end there is a why to which no answer is possible. In fact, from why to why, from one step to the next, you get to the end of things. And it is only by travelling from one why to the next, as far as the why that is unanswerable, that man attains the level of the creative principle, facing the infinite, equal to the infinite maybe. So long as he can answer the why he gets lost, he loses his way among things. 'Why this?' I answer, 'because that," and from one explanation to the next I reach the point where no explanation is satisfying, from one explanation to the next I reach zero, the absolute, where truth and falsehood are equivalent, become equal to one another, are identified with one another, cancel each other out in face of the absolute nothing. And so we can understand how all action, all choice, all history is justified, at the end of time, by a final cancelling-out. The why goes beyond everything. Nothing goes beyond the why, not even the nothing, because the nothing is not the explanation; when silence confronts us, the question to which there is no answer rings out in the silence. That ultimate why, that great why is like a light that blots out everything, but a blinding light; nothing more can be made out, there is nothing more to make out.
— Eugène Ionesco, Fragments of a Journal
The rose, however, made us girls somewhat fainthearted, because it really was something we felt mattered, the white bridal dream with the wedding bouquet and the kiss from the man who was to be ours forever. But then Laura said that the lady who had given it to us had gotten divorced only five years later. And since many of our parents were also divorce, if indeed they had ever been married at all, that dream clearly wasn't worth our time.
— Janne Teller
There are two groups of people in this world; first, those who have everything but nothing and second, those who have nothing but everything.
— M.F. Moonzajer
Shadow crawled across the floor to the yellow foam-rubber pad and climbed onto it, pulling the thin blanket over himself, and closed his eyes, and he held onto nothing, and he held onto dreams.
— Neil Gaiman, American Gods
We come from nothing, we go back into nothing. That nothing is something, that something is everything.That everything is the cosmos. Is this a grand joke telling us? What we really are; just nothing.
— Gian Kumar
Everything else is nothing.
— Lauren Oliver, Delirium
Nothing happened. Nothing continued to happen. More Nothing. The Return of Nothing. Son of Nothing. Nothing Rides Again. Nothing and Abbot and Costello meet the Wolfman...
— Neil Gaiman, Anansi Boys
Love? Love is like holding water in your hands. You might have it for a time, but it escapes, leaving you with nothing.
— Laura Lam, Pantomime
Fights don't solve matters, they just make things worse. (Diary 19)
— Erin Gruwell, The Freedom Writers Diary
Lethargy. It's a word I know, because it's in one of my father's favorite expressions. Lethargy breeds lethargy. It means the more you lie around doing nothing, the more you want to lie around doing nothing. Your limbs and your mind feel so heavy that it becomes a major effort just to lift your arm to channel surf.
— Neal Shusterman, Dread Locks
Nothing is incidental.
— Pocan Ioan Valentin
Zero is the number people often feel, more so than one.
— Anthony Liccione
Well, I have learned nothing from my mistakes what the fuck is next?
— M.F. Moonzajer
But for the present I would lie there and know I didn't have to get up, and feel the holy emptiness and blessed fatigue of a saint after the dark night of the soul. For God and Nothing have a lot in common. You look either one of Them straight in the eye for a second and the immediate effect on the human constitution is the same.
— Robert Penn Warren, All the King's Men
Non-possession” does not mean having nothing. It does not mean to live as a penniless beggar. Rather than meaning having nothing, it is the idea of not possessing what we do not need. The more we possess, The more we have attachments.
— Boep Joeng
Sometimes you don’t lose hope, not because you are hopeful , but there is nothing else to hope for.
— M.F. Moonzajer, A moment with God ; Poetry
Nothing happens. And by that I mean nothing.
— Ida Løkås, Det fine som flyter forbi
We can’t have what we want and nothing is gonna change it.
— M.F. Moonzajer
What is this place?" "Nothing at all. Everywhere there is. Both at once?" Wereberry offered.
— Adam P. Knave, Stays Crunchy in Milk
Life is like challenge if u fail in life then u feel so bad in your whole life.like is like race don't try to break it.life gives lots of happys don't miss it.
— Tanmaya Rana
Around this world will I be enough?From the liquor stores, to the train stop floors, your filthy room, your drama bluesI am nothing if I'm not with you.
— Sara Quin
... "I now see that I spent most of my life in doing neither what I ought nor what I liked". The Christians describe the Enemy as one "without whom Nothing is strong". And Nothing is very strong: strong enough to steal away a man's best years not in sweet sins but in a dreary flickering of the mind over it knows not what and knows not why, in the gratification of curiosities so feeble that the man is only half aware of them ...
— C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters
I was born with nothing and I still have nothing. And tomorrow is nothing.
— Chimo, Lila Says
The novel is the one bright book of life. Books are not life. They are only tremulations on the ether. But the novel as a tremulation can make the whole man alive tremble.
— D.H. Lawrence
Someone ought to write a novel about me,” said Lebedeva loftily. “I shouldn’t care if they lied to make it more interesting, as long as they were good lies, full of kisses and daring escapes and the occasional act of barbarism. I can’t abide a poor liar.
— Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless
He shivered. His coat was thin, and it was obvious he would not get his kiss, which he found puzzling. The manly heroes of the penny dreadfuls and shilling novels never had these problems getting kissed.
— Neil Gaiman, Stardust
In the post-Warhol era a single gesture such as uncrossing one's legs will have more significance than all the pages in War and Peace.
— J.G. Ballard, The Atrocity Exhibition
and if a rainy morning deprived them of other enjoyments, they were still resolute in meeting in defiance of wet and dirt, and shut themselves up, to read novels together. Yes, novels; for I will not adopt that ungenerous and impolitic custom so common with novel–writers, of degrading by their contemptuous censure the very performances, to the number of which they are themselves adding — joining with their greatest enemies in bestowing the harshest epithets on such works, and scarcely ever permitting them to be read by their own heroine, who, if she accidentally take up a novel, is sure to turn over its insipid pages with disgust. Alas! If the heroine of one novel be not patronized by the heroine of another, from whom can she expect protection and regard? I cannot approve of it. Let us leave it to the reviewers to abuse such effusions of fancy at their leisure, and over every new novel to talk in threadbare strains of the trash with which the press now groans. Let us not desert one another; we are an injured body. Although our productions have afforded more extensive and unaffected pleasure than those of any other literary corporation in the world, no species of composition has been so much decried. From pride, ignorance, or fashion, our foes are almost as many as our readers. And while the abilities of the nine–hundredth abridger of the History of England, or of the man who collects and publishes in a volume some dozen lines of Milton, Pope, and Prior, with a paper from the Spectator, and a chapter from Sterne, are eulogized by a thousand pens — there seems almost a general wish of decrying the capacity and undervaluing the labour of the novelist, and of slighting the performances which have only genius, wit, and taste to recommend them. “I am no novel–reader — I seldom look into novels — Do not imagine that I often read novels — It is really very well for a novel.” Such is the common cant. “And what are you reading, Miss — ?” “Oh! It is only a novel!” replies the young lady, while she lays down her book with affected indifference, or momentary shame. “It is only Cecilia, or Camilla, or Belinda”; or, in short, only some work in which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed, in which the most thorough knowledge of human nature, the happiest delineation of its varieties, the liveliest effusions of wit and humour, are conveyed to the world in the best–chosen language. Now, had the same young lady been engaged with a volume of the Spectator, instead of such a work, how proudly would she have produced the book, and told its name; though the chances must be against her being occupied by any part of that voluminous publication, of which either the matter or manner would not disgust a young person of taste: the substance of its papers so often consisting in the statement of improbable circumstances, unnatural characters, and topics of conversation which no longer concern anyone living; and their language, too, frequently so coarse as to give no very favourable idea of the age that could endure it.
— Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey
i love purple and blue!!!!!
— Alyson Noel
A novel is not an allegory, I said as the period was about to come to an end. It is the sensual experience of another world. If you don't enter that world, hold your breath with the characters and become involved in their destiny, you won't be able to empathize, and empathy is at the heart of the novel. This is how you read a novel: you inhale the experience. So start breathing.
— Azar Nafisi, Reading Lolita in Tehran
Writing a novel is actually searching for victims. As I write I keep looking for casualties. The stories uncover the casual
— John Irving
The anxiety, which in this state of their attachment must be the portion of Henry and Catherine, and of all who loved either, as to its final event, can hardly extend, I fear, to the bosom of my readers, who will see in the tell-tale compression of the pages before them, that we are all hastening together to perfect felicity.
— Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey
Mental Note #50: The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, even though it most desperately wants to. - Notes from Ellen Wasserfeldman
— Alisa Steinberg, Notes from Ellen Wasserfeldman
The novels we read allow us to encounter possible persons, versions of ourselves hat we would never see, never permit ourselves to see, never permit ourselves to become, in places we can never go and might not care to, while assuring that we get to return home again
— Thomas C. Foster, How to Read Novels Like a Professor: A Jaunty Exploration of the World's Favorite Literary Form
We trust to novels to train us in the practice of great indignations and great generositie.
— Henry James
Novels can tell us so much about life. They have the power to enrich our own lives in so many different ways. They're not just for entertaining us, although that would be enough.
— Victoria Connelly, Mr. Darcy Forever
Every novel is an attempt to capture time, to weave something solid out of air. The author knows it is an impossible task - that is why he keeps on trying.
— David Beaty
One did not drink sherry before the evening, just as one did not read a novel in the morning.
— Barbara Pym, Quartet in Autumn
Henry James said there isn't any difference between "the English novel" and "the American novel" since there are only two kinds of novels at all, the good and the bad.
— Eudora Welty, On Writing
Remember where you are and adjust yourself accordingly, not vice-versa ... otherwise, you might be toast.
— Alisa Steinberg, Notes from Ellen Wasserfeldman (Preview Plus Bonus Material)
I think: perhaps the sky is a huge sea of fresh water and we, instead of walking under it, walk on top of it; perhaps we see everything upside down and the earth is a kind of sky, so that when we die, when we die, we fall and sink into the sky.The Implacable Order of Things
— José Luís Peixoto
I think it is the art of the glimpse. If the novel is like an intricate Renaissance painting, the short story is an impressionist painting. It should be an explosion of truth. Its strength lies in what it leaves out just as much as what it puts in, if not more. It is concerned with the total exclusion of meaninglessness. Life, on the other hand, is meaningless most of the time. The novel imitates life, where the short story is bony, and cannot wander. It is essential art.
— William Trevor
There is a great deal to be said in favour of reading a novel backwards. The last page is as a rule the most interesting, and when one begins with the catastrophe or the dénouement one feels on pleasant terms of equality with the author. It is like going behind the scenes of a theatre. One is no longer taken in, and the hair-breadth escapes of the hero and the wild agonies of the heroine leave one absolutely unmoved. One knows the jealously guarded secret, and one can afford to smile at the quite unnecessary anxiety that the puppets of fiction always consider it their duty to display.
— Oscar Wilde, Only Dull People Are Brilliant at Breakfast
I think after all I found a feature which is incredible and kind of mein or let's say it something which is part of my childhood in the Jack Ketchum Novels and films.
— Deyth Banger
I am a novelist, and my goal in writing a novel is to leave the reader not knowing what to think. A good novel shouldn't have a point.
— Teju Cole, Known and Strange Things: Essays
If you read the novel in more than two weeks, you don't read the novel really
— Philip Roth
The point is, that the function of the novel seems to be changing; it has become an outpost of journalism; we read novels for information about areas of life we don’t know — Nigeria, South Africa, the American army, a coal-mining village, coteries in Chelsea, etc. We read to find out what is going on. One novel in five hundred or a thousand has the quality a novel should have to make it a novel — the quality of philosophy. I find that I read with the same kind of curiosity most novels, and a book of reportage. Most novels, if they are successful at all, are original in the sense that they report the existence of an area of society, a type of person, not yet admitted to the general literate consciousness. The novel has become a function of the fragmented society, the fragmented consciousness. Human beings are so divided, are becoming more and more divided, and more subdivided in themselves, reflecting the world, that they reach out desperately, not knowing they do it, for information about other groups inside their own country, let alone about groups in other countries. It is a blind grasping out for their own wholeness, and the novel-report is a means towards it.
— Doris Lessing, The Golden Notebook
I keep being told that my writing is getting better and better. - Now, at first I am thrilled by that, but then I think, Isn't everybody's? Do some authors grow cozy with their own style, and stay there?I think of writing fiction as an art form. As such, it's a constant exploration of new and developing ideas. If any of my books were much like my others, I don't think I'd even bother to write them.
— Edward Fahey
He sits at the table and reads novels, old favorites of his, the words and plots and characters comforting and lived-in and unchanged.
— Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life
You were like reading a good novel. The kind were you wanted to turn every page, & never put it down... And absorb every second. But for whatever reason, that novel isn't there for me to read, & so, it's endless chapters are gone from my reach. And I don't dare to pretend to be surprised. But I do dare to wonder why.And though it's gone, I smile because it was the best novel I ever read. In those brief moments the novel of you possessed me, mind, body, & soul alike. I felt joy & adoration in such a degree, that if I never do again it'll be okay. When you read a great novel, you never forget it. And you never let go of the feeling of it in your mind. The captivating nature of it. But greater than a novel, not mere words on a page, but a reality. Reality in a vivid form that can't begin to be put into words. That words, could not touch.You're the kind of novel one would desperately want to finish. To keep near at hand & close at heart. But it can't be. And though it's a mournful & somber thought, there's enjoyment in the knowledge that for a brief moment in time, it was there. The novel of her, was a novel of breathtaking wonder. And if I never get to read another page, I'll cherish those I had the privilege of reading. And you can only hope that whoever reads it next, values it in the way you so know is deserved.
— Trevor Driggers
He joined Jude in the kitchen and began making a salad, and JB slumped to the dining-room table and started flipping through a novel Jude had left there. "I read this," he called over to him. "Do you want to know what happens in the end?" "No, JB," said Jude. "I'm only halfway through.""The minister character dies after all.""JB!"After that, JB's mood seemed to improve.
— Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life
When you have a grasp on eternity your eyes won't ever see the battle or the lost people that hurt you. You will see a beautiful story of hope, in every character. It is not one person god loves. He loves us all and this is his story, our story and theirs.
— Shannon L. Alder
Of what earthly use were novels? How did they help anybody?
— Damon Galgut, Arctic Summer
Everybody loves to hate a sinner
—  reading stories about them makes people feel better about themselves.
Nonfiction at its best is like fashioning a cabinet. It can never be a sculpture. It can be elegant and very beautiful, but it can never be sculpture. Captive to facts - or predetermined form - it cannot fly.
— Peter Matthiessen, The Snow Leopard
I gain nothing but pleasure from writing fiction; short stories are foreplay, novellas are heavy petting – but novels are the full monte. Frankly, if I didn't enjoy writing novels I wouldn't do it – the world hardly needs any more and I can think of numerous more useful things someone with my skills could be engaged in. As it is, the immersion in parallel but believable worlds satisfies all my demands for vicarious experience, voyeurism and philosophic calithenics. I even enjoy the mechanics of writing, the dull timpani of the typewriter keys, the making of notes – many notes – and most seducttive of all: the buying of stationery. That the transmogrification of my beautiful thoughts into a grossly imperfect prose is always the end result doesn't faze me: all novels are only a version- there is no Platonic ideal. But I'd go further still: fiction is my way of thinking about and relating to the world; if I don't write I'm not engaged in any praxis, and lose all purchase.
— Will Self
Don't go chasing after the grand theme, the idea, I told my students, as if it is separate from the story itself. The idea or ideas behind the story must come to you through the experience of the novel and not as something tacked onto it.
— Azar Nafisi, Reading Lolita in Tehran
I believe, Sebastian, that novels are more important than ever. They are more important than video recorders and record players and television because they enable us to exercise our minds. They allow us to step back and see where the history is taking us.
— Imraan Coovadia, Tales of the Metric System
Cecy, I do think it is unfair. People in novels are fainting all the time, and I never can, no matter how badly I need to.
— Patricia C. Wrede, Sorcery & Cecelia: or The Enchanted Chocolate Pot
I don't like novels that end happily. They depress me so much.
— Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest
Do you want to know how to write novels? I’ll tell you the secret: start on page one and keep going, in order, until you come to the last page. Then stop.
— Pasi Ilmari Jääskeläinen, The Rabbit Back Literature Society
The best plot twists are the ones you didn't expect.
— Shannon L. Alder
What the best novels and novelists do is to offer a different way of seeing.
— Aminatta Forna
Slow down to speed up. Anonymous
— Melissa G.  Wilson
If I would have known I was going to leave my job that day to become a writer, I probably would have planned differently... It didn't come by way of illness per se, accident, or dismissal, but by way of sheer self-mutiny. The self I was born to be, decided to hijack the one I had created.
— Dawn Kohler, The Invitation: A Weekend with Emma
The battles may last for a long time, perhaps even years. There are powerful forces on both sides, and the war is important to both armies. It's not a battle of good against evil. It's a war between forces that are fighting for the balance of power, and, when that type of battle begins, it lasts longer than others-because Allah is on both sides.
— Paulo Coelho
When I imagine changing places with her I get the feeling I do on finishing a novel with a brick-wall happy ending---I mean the kind of ending when you never think any more about the characters.
— Dodie Smith
Only Those Who Take Risk, Succeed!
— Latif Mercado
On the morning after the daring theft of a priceless James Ensor painting from the Grand Palais in Paris, I was allowed to leave the Les Halles Police Station after only a few hours of questioning.
— Mark Zero, The French Art of Revenge
Her face was as red as her hair. “What are you doing,” she cried. Devon put a question mark next to the sentence. “Editing your paper.” What did it look like he was doing?“You’re just cutting out stuff!”“What do you think editing is?
— M.M. John, Paper Cuts
Like the roller coaster of life...novels aren't fun without ups and downs and even an occasional loop.
— Carmen DeSousa
Novels arise out of the shortcomings of history.
— Novalis, Fragmente und Studien. Die Christenheit oder Europa
In this place called Hell novels are written by people who don't read books.
— Andy Seven
Novels arise out of the shortcoings of history.
— Novalis, Fragmente und Studien. Die Christenheit oder Europa
Short stories are often treated as the poor cousins of novels.
— Christopher Bram, The Lost Library: Gay Fiction Rediscovered
Now and then I am asked as to ‘what books a statesman should read,’ and my answer is, poetry and novels – including short stories under the head of novels.
— Theodore Roosevelt
Life is'nt about getting everything you want the instant you want it.Some thing are worth waiting for.
— Mira Lyn Kelly, Waking Up Married
Novels are just another kind of cross-dressing, aren't they?
— John Irving, In One Person
A Dickens character to me is a theatrical projection of a character. Not that it isn't real. It's real, but in that removed sense. But Sherlock Holmes is simply there. I would be astonished if I went to 221 1/2 B Baker Street and didn't find
— Rex Stout
Ending a novel is almost like putting a child to sleep – it can't be done abru
— Colm Tóibín
They (the novelists) became the voice of the citizen against the ubiquitous raison d'état, which reappeared endlessly to justify everything from unjust laws and the use of child labour to incompetent generalship and inhuman conditions on warships.The themes they popularized have gradually turned into the laws which, for all their flaws, have improved the state of man.
— John Ralston Saul, Voltaire's Bastards: The Dictatorship of Reason in the West
Well, Mr Thomas, while I'm in favour of education, I couldn't in good conscience recommend a university career in anything but the hard sciences. As a working environment, the rest of academia is a sewer of irrationality, hate mongering, envy, and self-interest. I'm getting out the moment I earn my twenty-five-year pension package, and then I'm going to write novels...
— Dean Koontz, Odd Thomas
What does the novel do? It tells beautiful, shapely lies which enclose hard, exact truths.
— Julian Barnes
Novels include padding; I think padding may be an essential part of the novel, for all I know.
— Jorge Luis Borges, This Craft of Verse
We did photograph albums, best dresses, favourite novels, and once someone's own novel. It was about a week in a telephone box with a pair of pyjamas called Adolf Hitler. The heroine was a piece of string with a knot in it.
— Jeanette Winterson, Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit
I have come to understand something about novels," Tessa said."And what is that?""They are not true.
— Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess
Everything that ever happened to me that was important happened in the desert.
— Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient
I think novelists are in the education business, really, but they're not teaching you times tables, they are teaching you responsiveness and morality and to make nuanced judgments. And really to just make the planet look a bit richer when you go out into the street.
— Martin Amis
Because we want to know things, how the pieces fit. Talkers seduce, words direct us into corners. We want more than anything to grow and change. Brave new world.
— Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient
Every serious novel is, beyond its immediate thematic preoccupations, a discussion of the craft, a conquest of the form, a conflict with its difficulties and a pursuit of its felicities and beauty.
— Ralph Ellison, The Collected Essays
A mysterious ability, a broken promise, a life changed forever...
— Kim Hornsby, The Dream Jumper's Promise
...you mean you don't fit characters into a plot? excatly...
— John Geddes
And she did what nobody thought of doing... she consulted Anne.
— Jane Austen
Drama is very important in life: You have to come on with a bang. You never want to go out with a whimper. Everything can have drama if it's done right. Even a pancake.
— Julia Child
Old habits will keep you stuck as they won't open doors to new opportunities.
— Karon Waddell
Everyone's life, not matter how unremarkable, has a singular tragic encounter after which everything that really matters will happen. That moment is the catalyst - the first step in the equation. But knowing the first step will get you nowhere - it's what comes after that determines the result.
— Robyn Schneider, The Beginning of Everything
Stick and stones may break your bones but harsh words can hurt as much to anyone. What comes out of your tongue can be a bleating or a curse, or for better or for worst, so think several times for what you spit out can't be recover anymore.you should not spit flame, what will hurt just keep it . Think of the consequences after the damage.
— Victoria Samio
Life is like a blank page, copying manuscript written Backstage.
— Jawwad Zafar
Will you show me what you really look like? You don't sparkle, do you?
— Jennifer L. Armentrout, Obsidian
Besides my great fashion sense? I play a mean harmonica.
— James Patterson, Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports
Where will we go?""I hear hell is particularly nice at this time of year.
— Sarah J. Maas, Queen of Shadows
Forgive me. I continue to underestimate the breadth of your ignorance.
— Ransom Riggs, Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children
Its Vermeer"Kat turned to the boy who lingered in the doorway. "It's stolen""What can I say?" Hale eased behind her and studied the painting over her shoulder. "I met a very nice man who bet me he had the best security system in Istanbul." His breath was warm on the back of her neck. "He was mistaken.
— Ally Carter, Heist Society
He ignored me, thank God, saying to Kat, "Let go of Frosty's leash. You're choking the life out of him."  Kat's eyes narrowed to tiny slits, a sure sign of her aggression. "He deserves to choke. He didn't keep little frosty in his pants this summer." the words snapped like a whip. "He did." Cole snapped back with unwavering confidence."Not.""Did.""Not!""Did,""Not, not, not!" she shouted with a stomp of her foot."What are we five?" Cole said."Six.
— Gena Showalter, Alice in Zombieland
I sprung you because I've got a message for you""doesn't your family own a cell phone company?""only a little one
— Ally Carter, Heist Society
Let's pray that the human race never escapes Earth to spread its iniquity elsewhere.
— C.S. Lewis
Cryptic Dad is cryptic,' I muttered ... We'd hung out all day today. Was there no time in there he could have said, 'Oh, hey, meet me at the magical bookcase at the butt-crack of dawn tomorrow, cool?
— Rachel Hawkins, Demonglass
I don't lack for bed partners, so I don't need to scrounge for unwilling scraps.-Spade
— Jeaniene Frost, First Drop of Crimson
Ah, mistress, you’re an angel. Sure there’s not a drop left? I might have remembered one more person….”“Up yours,” I said rudely with another belch. “It’s empty. You should tell me the name anyway, after making me drink all that sewage.”Winston gave me a devious smile. “Come back with a full bottle and I will.”“Selfish spook,” I mumbled, and staggered away.I’d made it a few feet when I felt that distinct pins-and-needles sensation again, only this time it wasn’t in my throat.“Hey!”I looked down in time to see Winston’s grinning, transparent form fly out of my pants. He was chuckling even as I smacked at myself and hopped up and down furiously.“Drunken filthy pig!” I spat. “Bastard!”“And a good eve’in’ to you, too, mistress!” he called out, his edges starting to blur and fade. “Come back soon!”“I hope worms shit on your corpse!” was my reply. A ghost had just gotten to third base with me. Could I sink any lower?
— Jeaniene Frost, Halfway to the Grave
There is no way I’m going out in public like this!”It seemed while I was being tormented at the salon, Bones had been out shopping. I didn’t ask where he got the money from, images of old folks with their necks bleeding and their wallets missing dancing in my head. There were boots, earrings, push-up bras, skirts, and something he swore to me were dresses but only looked like pieces of dresses.
— Jeaniene Frost, Halfway to the Grave
The shapes inched closer. I gaped at them, trying to discern their features. "I think I see dead people," I whispered."Yep," Aidan said, smiling. "More vampire jokes. You're just fine, then. Once this is over, you and my brother will be BFFs." He wrapped his arms around me, pressing me against his broad chest. Against my better judgement, I leaned into him, strangely comforted.
— Jayde Scott, A Job From Hell
I am also very proud to be a liberal. Why is that so terrible these days? The liberals were liberatorsthey fought slavery, fought for women to have the right to vote, fought against Hitler, Stalin, fought to end segregation, fought to end apartheid. Liberals put an end to child labor and they gave us the five day work week! What's to be ashamed of?
— Barbra Streisand
Mr. Benedict: "After I woke up and composed myself, however, I realized the flowers must certainly be yours, Constance, to do with as you please. At any rate -- " Mr.Benedict broke off, for just then Constance jumped to her feet, snatched the bouquet from his desk, and hurled it into the wastebasket with all the force she could muster -- so hard that flower petals flew up out of the wastebasket like tiny pink butterflies. Then placing her hands against the wall to steady herself, she stomped one foot repeatedly into the wastebasket as if trying to put out a fire. "I see we are of the same opinion," said Mr. Benedict as Constance returned to her seat, and the others congratulated her on her judgment.
— Trenton Lee Stewart
...I blink back the threat of tears, swiped at my nose and narrowed my eyes. "Listen to me, you two bags of monkey shit, "I yelled. "I am not in a good mood. My car keeps stalling. The day before yesterday I threw up on Joe Morelli. I was called a fat cow by my ex-husband. And if that isn't enough...my hair is ORANGE! ORANGE, FOR CHRISSAKE! And now you have the gall to force yourself into my home and threaten my hamster. Well, you have gone too far. You have crossed the line!
— Janet Evanovich, Three to Get Deadly
Everything ok here ?"Ryan grunted urging her with a hand on her lower back."He thinks you should mind your own business,"Makenna told the Beta,translating the grunt.Dominic cocked his head."You understand his grunts?"She lifted her chin."I thought it was crystal clear."Dominic turned to Ryan."Marry her."Ryan grunted again before heading for the door."What did he say?"Dominic asked her."Fuck off,"she translated.
— Suzanne Wright, Savage Urges
I was like, 'Dude, make me look bad. Please. I want to look ugly. I want to wear orange pants.
— Evanescence
What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night,So stumblest on my counsel?*Who are you? Why do you hide in the darkness and listen to my private thoughts?*
— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
It me birthday and nobody came...Bigfoot decide do something nice for self for big day and sneak in they house at night and pick out own present and blow out flickering candle of life in they brains. Make a wish, jerks.
— Graham Roumieu
Laboratory scientists use formaldehyde as a disinfectant or preservative. They don't fucking drink it.
— Rory Freedman, Skinny Bitch
(Seth) “So,” he said, looking me up and down, “you’re what the fuss was all about. I can’t say I’m impressed.” He sneered at me. “Still riding bulls, cowboy?”(Weber) “Nope.” I smirked at him. “I only ride his cock now.
— Mary Calmes, Frog
Believe it or not the war on Iraq is based on a sound scientific principle, The bee hive principle. Which clearly states that if you are stung by a bee, you should follow it back to its nest and then proceed to beat nest to a pulp with a baseball bat until the stripey little turd has learned its lesson.
— John Oliver
Don’t do that? This is your sage advice?”“Yeah.” He burped and blew it out the side of his mouth. “Sorry, the burritos we had for lunch are kinda comin’ back on me.
— Mary Calmes, Honored Vow
No. No way. That name is reserved for females with grace and elegance, not this girl. This girl is...beastly.
— Victoria Scott, The Collector
What are you doing sister? / Killing swine. 
— William Shakespeare
He even dressed up for you. He only has one stain on his t-shirt.- Rylie Cruz
— Rose Pressey, How to Date a Werewolf
Rocher was on the floor, crawling on her stomach toward Jate's feet. "I love you...," she kept repeating, in a demonic whisper. "I have to show you... my butt.
— Paul Rudnick, Gorgeous
The point is, if we find out you’ve been horrible to Harry —”“— and make no mistake, we’ll hear about it.“even if you won’t let Harry use the fellytone 
— J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Roz to Amelia (the house ghost): How considerate of you, after trying to kill me, to see that I don't catch a cold.
— Nora Roberts, Black Rose
The lengths to which you’re prepared to go to please a housekeeper make me wonder about the servant situation in Scotland. Good help must be thin on the ground.” Vale widened his eyes and took a drink.“She’s more to me than a housekeeper,” Alistair growled.“Wonderful!” Vale slapped him on the back. “And about time, too. I was beginning to worry that all your important bits might’ve atrophied and fallen off from disuse.”He felt unaccustomed heat climb his throat. “Vale…
— Elizabeth Hoyt, To Beguile a Beast
I had to make water ” I said. It was the classic female excuse and no male in recorded history had ever questioned it. 
— “I see ” the Inspector said and left it at that.
A peevish self-willed harlotry it is.*She’s a stubborn little brat.*
— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
She gathered a circle of children around her and commenced singing 'For Those Who Peril on the Sea' over their little heads. But no, 'safety from storms' wasn't enough for her. God had to keep them from being blown up too. She set about ordering the poor things to pray for their parents every night- who knew what the German soldiers might do to them? Then she said to be especially good little boys and girls so Mama and Daddy could look down on them from heaven and BE PROUD OF THEM...she had those children crying and sobbing fit to die.I was too shocked to move, but no, not Elizabeth. No, quick as an adder's tongue, she had ahold of Adelaide's arm and told her to SHUT UP.'Let me go!' Adelaide cried. 'I am speaking the Word of God!'Elizabeth, she got a look on her that would turn the devil to stone, and then she slapped Adelaide right across the face!
— Mary Ann Shaffer, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society
You know what? You know what? You know what?' I was waving my finger under her nose. 'You scratched the Son of God. That's your ass, that's what.
— Christopher Moore, Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal
The ship's surgeon was a spotty unshaven little man whose clothes, arrayed with smudges, drippings, and cigarette burns, were held about him by an extensive network of knotted string, The buttons down the front of those duck trousers had originally been made, with all of false economy's ingenious drear deception, of coated cardboard. After many launderings they persisted as a row of gray stumps posted along the gaping portals of his fly. Though a boutoniere sometimes appeared through some vacancy in his shirt-front, its petals, too, proved to be of paper, and he looked like the kind of man who scrapes foam from the top of a glass of beer with the spine of a dirty pocket comb, and cleans his nails at table with the tines of his salad fork, which things, indeed, he did. He diagnosed Camilla's difficulty as indigestion, and locked himself in his cabin. that was the morning.
— William Gaddis, The Recognitions
No way, that would kill my diet for the week. I don't know how you can stand to eat so unhealthy, Quinn. Just consider it an amuse-biatch.
— Steph Campbell, Grounding Quinn
Mr. Babcock pats my shoulder. He smiles, and the caterpillar mustache — the envy of state troopers everywhere, I'm sure — straightens out again. I hear that on the weekends, he's a part-time security guard with mirrored sunglasses and a gun. He probably poses in front of his bathroom mirror to see how he looks saying "Freeze!
— Libba Bray
Just remember: when your nerd talks to someone about "man tar", it has nothing to do with the stickiness on your sheets.
— Piper Vaughn Xara X Xanakas
He ground his teeth together, the torture of it almost more than he could bear.The urge to pull her to him was overwhelming, but to do that would cost him dearly, for no doubt she would run out the door, damning him with every step.This was Lorelei, the artist, and she didn't see him as a man. Right now, he was about as human as the ridiculous fruit she'd painted in the past. And if he played along with her wants, perhaps she'd let him show her his...banana.
— Kinley MacGregor, Master of Seduction
Who’s a** is this?” Mo asked...“Mine!” Mykel shouted.Mo stilled and then laughed. Mykel thought about what he said and then felt his face heat up from embarrassment. “I mean yours.” “God, I love you,” Mo said...
— Stormy Glen
Would you be shedding tears for McNab’s dead body if he’d been screwing around on you?”Peabody pursed her lips. “Well, since I’d’ve been the one who killed him, I’d probably be shedding tears for me because you’d be arresting me. And that would really make me sad.
— J.D. Robb, Strangers in Death
Who was that?""A one-night stand that didn't want to let go."Alexis looked over the sea of people, trying to find the woman.  "There seems to be a lot of those.""Too late to change my past now, but if I could, I would."Alexis gave him a disbelieving smirk.  "Are you saying, if you could have changed things, you would've waited for me?"He gave her his wicked grin.  "I'm saying I would have found you sooner.
— Sarah  Curtis, Alluring
Don’ttempt the scorpion if you don’t want toget stung.
— Colleen Hoover, It Ends with Us
The only good thing was that by midnight, even most of the bums had gone home to sleep it off. That was lucky for them, because Ray was the worst damn driver I’d ever seen. And that was after I jerked his head out of the duffel and parked it on the dashboard.“Gah! That makes it worse!” he told me, as I tried to get the eyes facing forward.“How can it possibly be worse?”“Because I got double vision now! Get it off! Get it off!”He batted at his own head and succeeded in sending it tumbling into Christine’s lap. She immediately went into hysterics and slapped it away. The head fell out of the car; Ray hit the brakes and we came to a screeching halt.“What are you doing?” I screeched, as he hopped out. “There are people firing at us!”“Tough!” came from somewhere under the car.
— Karen Chance, Death's Mistress
Talc: You have been found guilty of misleading and perverting the young. I decree that you be hung by your underdeveloped testicles until dead. ZORRO
— John Kennedy Toole, A Confederacy of Dunces
Oh, my God!" Ignatius bellowed from the front of the house. "What an egregious insult to good taste.
— John Kennedy Toole, A Confederacy of Dunces
Wake up & Smell The Hot Chocolate ! ~ Eddie Havens
— Susan Wiggs, Lakeshore Christmas
You tried to kill me. Don't think we won't be telling that story to our kids someday," David said."Kids?" she asked, feeling breathless."You heard me," he said, eyes intent. "At least three of them. I figure as soon as we're married we should get started on that first one.""Okay," she said, voice shaking."Glad that's settled. When we get back to Prague I'll get you a ring.""Okay," she said again, her heart soaring. "I'm going to sleep now, I think.""You do that.
— Debbie Viguié, Kiss of Revenge
I find a good cliche very comforting in times of stress." said the Sage
— Anneliese Blakeney, The Princess and The Sage
This was the sort of girl who should be attending college, not ones like that dreadful Minkoff girl, that brutal and slovenly girl who had almost been raped by one of the janitors just outside of his office. Dr. Talc shuddered at the very thought of Miss Minkoff. In class she had Insulted and challenged and vilified him at every turn, egging the Reilly monster to join in the attack. He would never forget those two; no one on the faculty ever would. They were like two Huns sweeping down on Rome. Dr. Talc idly wondered if they had married each other. Each certainly deserved the other.
— John Kennedy Toole, A Confederacy of Dunces
You & I Both Know That You're NOT the New Orleans PD's Favorite Son! - Sam Deeds
— Lisa Jackson ~ Absolute Fear
I’m sorry that I don’t like your tattoos.”I walked away. I walked back to him. “I mean that I don’t like tattoos, not just your tattoos. I like your skin, though.”I walked away.
— Daniel Zomparelli, Everything Is Awful and You're a Terrible Person
But what really won me over was his butt. What finally made it impossible for me not to like the man was how right out there on the Adventist basepaths, right in front of eighty or ninety of the kind of pious adult spectators who spent their every Sabbath if not their entire lives trying to forget the existence of things like butts, Beal's buns were trying to light a fire by friction inside his jeans; they were gyrating like a washing machine with its load off balance; they were thrashing against his pants like two big halibut against the bottom of a boat. And the wonderful thing, the amazing thing, was how once his older audience got over the shock of it, they began to look amused at, then fascinated by, and finally downright grateful toward his writhing reminder that yes, buns did exist, and yes, every one of us owned not one but two of the things, and yes, like the God who created them in His Image, they did indeed move in mysterious ways.
— David James Duncan, The Brothers K
You can win arguments only when you ask questions. Now I know why wives win all the arguments
— Natkhat
My inner caveman demands she knows I'm a good provider. I'll get her the best booth, order any food she wants, kill potential predators, and buy her the best cave on the block".
— Bijou Hunter, Bourbon Blues
He stops and turns to me. “Do you think people would stare if I threw you over my shoulder? Because I really want to do that. Then I can ogle your ass and just run.” The look in his eye is a little manic. For a second, I think he’s going to do it. Then he spies the heavily armed security officer a few feet away. “Excuse me, sir?” he says, and the guard looks at him. “Would it be acceptable to carry my girlfriend like a sack of potatoes in order to get out of here quicker and make sweet love to her?” The guard’s mouth moves, but he resists smiling. “No, sir, that would not be acceptable.” “Piggyback?” “Nope.” “Put her on a trolley?” “No.” “You’re no fun.” “So my wife keeps telling me.
— Leisa Rayven, Broken Juliet
Brian's face broke out in a wide grin as he slapped Roarke on the back. "That's a woman, isn't it?""Delicate as a rose, my Eve. Fragile and quiet natured." He grinned himself when he heard her curse, loud and vicious. "A voice like a flute.""And you're sloppy in love with her.""Pitifully.
— J.D. Robb, Vengeance in Death