A Quote Corner

Moonraker, Ian Fleming

"He looked at his watch. Eleven o’clock. Mondays were hell."
(Taken at eleven o’clock on a Monday :P

“Her family had of late been exceedingly fluctuating. For many years of her life she had had two sons; but the crime and annihilation of Edward a few weeks ago, had robbed her of one; the similar annihilation of Robert had left her for a fortnight without any; and now, by the resurrection of Edward, she had one again.”

—   Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen

“Young life is breathed
On the glass;
The world that was not
Comes to pass.”

—   Excerpt from “Ecce Puer” by James Joyce

“So,” said Estella, “I must be taken as I have been made. The success is not mine, the failure is not mine, but the two together make me.”

—   Great Expectations, Charles Dickens

“No-" said Harry quickly; he hadn’t counted on this, he had meant them to understand that he was undertaking the most dangerous journey alone. 
"You said it once before," said Hermione quickly, "that there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We’ve had time, haven’t we? We’re with you whatever happens.”

—   Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, J.K. Rowling

“Thus defenseless Hook found him. He stood silent at the foot of the tree looking across the chamber at his enemy. Did no feeling of compassion disturb his somber breast? The man was not wholly evil; he loved flowers (I have been told) and sweet music (he was himself no mean performer on the harpsichord); and, let it be frankly admitted, the idyllic nature of the scene stirred him profoundly. Mastered by his better self he would have returned reluctantly up the tree, but for one thing.”

—   Peter Pan, J.M. Barrie

“I am the most incurably lazy devil that ever stood in shoe leather.”

—   "The Lauriston Garden Mystery" by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

“If Brigan didn’t come, he was probably dead, and with that, all things would fall apart anyway, whether they be big, like tonight’s plans, or small, like her heart.”

—   Fire, Kristin Cashore

“History unravels gently, like an old sweater. It has been patched and darned many times, reknitted to suit different people, shoved in a box under the sink of censorship to be cut up for the dusters of propaganda, yet it always—eventually—manages to spring back into its old familiar shape. History has a habit of changing the people who thing they are changing it. History always has a few tricks up its frayed sleeve. It’s been around a long time.”

—   Mort, Terry Pratchett

“Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;
Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink
And rise and sink and rise and sink again;
Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,
Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;
Yet many a man is making friends with death
Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
It well may be that in a difficult hour,
Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,
Or nagged by want past resolution’s power,
I might be driven to sell your love for peace,
Or trade the memory of this night for food.
It well may be. I do not think I would.”

—   "Love Is Not All," Edna St. Vincent Millay