Agnes Burial Rites Quotes & Sayings

The Constitution is the guide which I never will abandon. — George Washington

He rose, placed another small log on the fire, sat back down in his armchair, and opened his book.
"What are you reading?" Reggie asked.
"On a wild night like this? Agatha Christie, of course. I still feel compelled to see if Hercule Poirot's 'little gray cells' will do their job one more time. It seems to often inspire my own brain, however inferior it might be to the diminutive Belgian's. — David Baldacci

d'Artagnan is right," said Athos; "here are our three leaves of absence which came from Monsieur de Treville, and here are three hundred pistoles which came from I don't know where. So let us go and get killed where we are told to go. Is life worth the trouble of so many questions? — Alexandre Dumas

Those who live in the realization of their oneness with the Infinite Power become magnets to attract to themselves a continual supply of whatever things they desire. Those who are truly wise and who use the forces and powers with which they are endowed-to them the great universe always opens her treasure house. — Ralph Waldo Trine

At a certain point in my personal life, I went through a divorce and lost some people close to me. — Tim Meadows

Aunt Dove stepped behind her and looked at her reflection in the cheval glass. You haven't been to India, pet, but in the Nilgiri Hills, there's a flower called a kurinji flower. It doesn't bloom often. In fact, you can go a dozen years or more without seeing a single blossom. But then, just when you've given up hope of ever seeing one, they burst into flower, whole mountainsides at the same time, carpeted in the most astonishing shades of purple. It's as if God himself shook out a rug of petals and spread it at your feet. It's unexpected and magnificent, and very much worth the wait. — Deanna Raybourn

Superstition, as indigenous to Louisiana as gators and Tabasco, holds that the spirits of the dead avenge any disruption of their bodies, which makes one wonder at the rancor released on the 1957 day when fifty-five white families re-interred their beloved in Hope Mausoleum after the Rt. Rev. Girault M. Jones, Bishop of Louisiana, deconsecrated the Girod Street Cemetery, condemning every last African American bone to anonymity in a mass grave in Providence Memorial Park. From that pogrom grew the Superdome. Thirteen acres of structural steel framing stretch up to 273 feet from the unholy ground, a towering testament to the American propensity to cheer black men into the end zones and desert them entirely six points later. — Ellen Urbani

I contend that in the kind of nonfiction I write, and that other people also pursue, anything is permissible provided the reader knows what you're taking liberties with. — William Least Heat-Moon

We all admire the wisdom of people who come to us for advice. — Arthur Helps