Gathering Quotes - Page 7

• Twenty-one years ago, when I first heard Mia Farrow had accused me of child molestation, I found the idea so ludicrous I didn't give it a second thought. We were involved in a terribly acrimonious breakup, with great enmity between us and a custody battle slowly gathering energy. The self-serving transparency of her malevolence seemed so obvious I didn't even hire a lawyer to defend myself. It was my show business attorney who told me she was bringing the accusation to the police and I would need a criminal lawyer.

  Woody Allen

  Breakup, Children, Self

  "Woody Allen Speaks Out". www.nytimes.com. February 7, 2014.

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• "I smell fennel," Launcelot said. "That reminds me, I should tell you I have discovered a specific for maims. You take salt, good-quality river mud, and bee urine, and slather it on the maim and hold it there for two days. Works like a charm. Gathering the bee urine is a bit of a bore."

  Donald Barthelme

  Two, Rivers, Smell

  "The King". Book by Donald Barthelme, p. 94, 1990.

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• It's interesting when you're doing signing sessions with other writers and you look at the queues at each table and you can see definite human types gathering there.... My queue is always full of, you know, wild-eyed sleazebags and people who stare at me very intensely, as if I have some particular message for them. As if I must know that they've been reading me, that this dyad or symbiosis of reader and writer has been so intense that I must somehow know about it.

  Martin Amis

  Reading, People, Interesting

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• By gathering seed from trees which are close to our homes and close to our hearts, helping them to germinate and grow, and then planting them back into their original landscapes, we can all make a living link between this millennium and the next, a natural bridge from the past to the future.

  Chris Baines

  Home, Heart, Past

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• His wife's a brand of Christian that forbids a gathering that involves young women dancing in the streets but not races where men die

  Maggie Stiefvater

  Christian, Men, Race

  Maggie Stiefvater (2011). “The Scorpio Races”, p.261, Scholastic UK

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• The first story I wrote was "Catface" which was later selected for The O. Henry Collection, so that gave me some confidence to try some more. Gathering these stories together was fun, but I realized when I read them that I have certain mental preoccupations and they keep recurring in my stories.

  Arthur Bradford

  Fun, Trying, Together

  Source: www.bookbrowse.com

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• Each week I pack my bag and travel the country, I go to people who write me and tell me their problems. I appear whether at their house or at their job site or some neighborhood gathering. I come there and listen to their story and I get hands on as I say. I don t give advice, I give people hope, I build their self-esteem, I motivate 'em. I inspire them because that's what I do.

  Mr. T

  Country, Jobs, Self Esteem

  Source: allhiphop.com

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• There is a man sleeping in the grass. And over him is gathering the greatest storm of all his days. Such lightening and thunder will come there has never been seen before, bringing death and destruction. People hurry home past him, to places safe from danger. And whether they do not see him there in the grass, or whether they fear to halt even a moment, but they do not wake him, they let him be.

  Alan Paton

  Home, Sleep, Past

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• Our life of contemplation shall retain the following characteristics: —missionary: by going out physically or in spirit in search of souls all over the universe. —contemplative: by gathering the whole universe at the very center of our hearts where the Lord of the universe abides, and allowing the pure water of divine grace to flow plentifully and unceasingly from the source itself, on the whole of his creation. —universal: by praying and contemplating with all and for all, especially with and for the spiritually poorest of the poor.

  Mother Teresa

  Heart, Water, Grace

  Mother Teresa (1985). “Mother Teresa: Contemplative in the Heart of the World”

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• Be nobody's darling; Be an outcast. Take the contradictions Of your life And wrap around You like a shawl, To parry stones To keep you warm. Watch the people succumb To madness With ample cheer; Let them look askance at you And you askance reply. Be an outcast; Be pleased to walk alone (Uncool) Or line the crowded River beds With other impetuous Fools. Make a merry gathering On the bank Where thousands perished For brave hurt words They said. Be nobody's darling; Be an outcast. Qualified to live Among your dead.

  Alice Walker

  Hurt, Cheer, Rivers

  Alice Walker (2011). “Alice Walker: Collected Poems: Her Blue Body Everything We Know: Earthling Poems 1965-1990”, p.115, Hachette UK

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• Moments. All gathering towards this one.

  Jenny Downham

  Moments

  Jenny Downham (2007). “Before I Die”, David Fickling Books

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• If wearing this rag will in any way speed the process of gathering my furture soldiers, then I will waer it. But if it doesn't..." Vollrath bowed. "I will subject myself to your temper." You'll have no choice.

  Frank Beddor

  Choices, Soldier, Way

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• I didn't want to believe that killing was deep inside of me. I didn't want to think about the part of me that took a dark joy in gathering all the power it could and using it as I saw fit, everything else be damned. There was power to be had in hatred, too, in anger and in lust, in selfishness and in pride. And I knew that there was some dark corner of me that would enjoy using magic for killing—and then long for more. That was black magic, and it was easy to use. Easy and fun. Like Legos.

  Jim Butcher

  Fun, Believe, Pride

  Jim Butcher (2010). “The Dresden Files Collection 1-6”, p.438, Penguin

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• GATHERING LEAVES Spades take up leaves No better than spoons, And bags full of leaves Are light as balloons. I make a great noise Of rustling all day Like rabbit and deer Running away. But the mountains I raise Elude my embrace, Flowing over my arms And into my face. I may load and unload Again and again Till I fill the whole shed, And what have I then? Next to nothing for weight, And since they grew duller From contact with earth, Next to nothing for color. Next to nothing for use. But a crop is a crop, And who's to say where The harvest shall stop?

  Robert Frost

  Running, Light, Color

  Robert Frost (1963). “Selected poems”

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• If at large gatherings or parties, or around people with whom you feel distant, your hands sometimes hang awkwardly at the ends of your arms - i you find yourself at a loss for what do with them, overcome with sadness that comes when you recognize the foreignnes of your own body - it's because your hands remember a time when the division between mind and body, brain and heart, what's inside and what's outside, was so much less.

  Nicole Krauss

  Party, Heart, Sadness

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• But these last months had turned him around and now Gen saw there could be as much virtue in letting go of what you knew as there had ever been in gathering new information. He worked as hard at forgetting as he had ever worked to learn.

  Ann Patchett

  Letting Go, Information, Lasts

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• Guess what?' Fitz said. 'I don't know,' Jude said. 'What? Narnie smiled?' He glanced at her for the first time. 'When you guys see a Narnie smile, it's like a revalation,' Webb said, gathering her towards him. Jude stopped in front of her and, with both hands cupping her face, tried to make a smile. Narnie flinched. 'Leave her alone,' Tate said. 'I need a revelation,' Jude said. 'And you're the only one that can give me one, Narns.

  Melina Marchetta

  Hands, Giving, Guy

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• I had become a kind of information magpie, gathering to myself all manner of shiny scraps of fact and hokum and books and art-history and politics and music and film, and developing, too, a certain skill in manipulating and arranging these pitiful shards so that they glittered and caught the light. Fool's gold, or priceless nuggets mined from my singular childhood's rich bohemian seam? I leave it to others to decide.

  Salman Rushdie

  Art, Book, Light

  Salman Rushdie (2011). “The Moor's Last Sigh”, p.240, Random House

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• A cupcake is like a great pop song. The whole world in less than three minutes. And it's impossible to have a bad cupcake. In New York you walk everywhere. So I'm always looking, always on the eternal search for the perfect cupcake. I take them very seriously. It's like hunting and gathering for me.

  Laurel Nakadate

  Song, New York, Hunting

  Source: therumpus.net

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• Help me to fling my life like a flaming firebrand into the gathering darkness of the world.

  Albert Schweitzer

  Darkness, World, Helping

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• Today much of what we call education is merely knowledge gathering and remembering. Problem solving and thinking, never strong parts of our educational system, have been downgraded in all but a few scientific subjects.

  William Glasser

  Strong, Educational, Thinking

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• Since this was a formal undead gathering, there would be food—all kinds—drinks, dancing, and festivities, while those in power pondered whether or not to slaughter half the people around them. In other words, like a high-school prom.

  Jeaniene Frost

  School, People, Dancing

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• Hearken, my believing reader. What is the cause of your weakness? Is it not because the fountain of life is little used? Is it not because you are resting on old experiences, and not daily gathering new manna—daily drawing new strength from Christ?

  J. C. Ryle

  Believe, Drawing, Weakness

  J.C. Ryle (2015). “Old Paths: Being Plain Statements on Some of the Weightier Matters of Christianity”, p.106, Ravenio Books

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• This doesn't mean you're getting a discount." Audrey heaved a mock sigh. "Oh well. I guess I'll have to ply you with sexual favors, then." Gnome choked on the soup. "I'm old enough to be your grandfather!" Audrey winked at him, gathering the empty bags. "But you're not.

  Ilona Andrews

  Mean, Grandfather, Plies

  Ilona Andrews (2011). “Fate's Edge”, p.19, Penguin

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• What’s that poem again?” Will, who had been twirling his empty teacup around his fingers, stood up straight and declaimed: “Each spake words of high disdain, And insult to his heart’s best brother—” “Oh, by the Angel, Will, do be quiet,” said Charlotte, standing up. “I must go and write a letter to Aloysius Starkweather that drips remorse and pleading. I don’t need you distracting me.” And, gathering up her skirts, she hurried from the room. “No appreciation for the arts,” Will murmured, setting his teacup down.

  Cassandra Clare

  Appreciation, Brother, Art

  Cassandra Clare (2013). “The Infernal Devices: Clockwork Angel; Clockwork Prince; Clockwork Princess”, p.519, Simon and Schuster

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