Autysci Quotes & Sayings

I always wanted to be an artist, writer and poet since I was seven, and one has to live long enough to evolve as an artist and do one's finest work. — Patti Smith

What's the greater risk? Letting go of what people think - or letting go of how I feel, what I believe, and who I am? — Brene Brown

All she could think of was that
she loved him--everything about
him, from the proud lift of his
gold head to his slender dark
boots, loved his laughter even when
it mystified her, loved his
bewildering silences. — Margaret Mitchell

Will fired the shoes like two orange grenades into the alley, pushed her outside and offered in parting, If you're in heat, Lula, go yowl beneath somebody else's window! — LaVyrle Spencer

The normal background-noise type of guilt that comes from just being alive this far into the twentieth century, — Douglas Adams

Only the young think they know anything about wisdom. — Nora Roberts

But we don't pray for that, I pray that I may do the will of God here. Give us this day ... — Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

If you're somebody who writes songs or writes fiction, a writer that people pay for your opinion in any way, you shouldn't be the least bit uncomfortable giving it to them. People want songwriters to tell them how they think and how they feel. That's what a song is. That's what I want to hear in a song. — Jason Isbell

It's not color, it's like pouring 40 tablespoons of sugar water over a roast. — John Huston

Say goodbye to your mom."
Scottie pauses, then keeps going.
"Scottie."
"Bye!" she yells.
I grab her arm. I could yell at her for wanting to leave, but I don't. She pulls her arm out of my grasp. I look up to see if anyone is watching us, because I don't think you're supposed to aggressively hold children these days. Gone are the days of spanking, threats, and sugar. Now there are therapy, antidepressants, and Splenda. — Kaui Hart Hemmings

Gwen found herself in possession, coolly palmed in her thoughts like a dollar coin, of the idea that she was about to bring another abandoned son into the world, the son of an abandoned son. The heir to a history of disappointment and betrayal, violence, and loss. Centuries of loss, empires of disappointment. All the anger that Gwen had been feeling, not just today or over the past nine months but all her life
feeding on to it like a sun, using it to power her engines, to fund her stake in the American dream
struck her for the first time as a liability. As purely tragic. There was no way to partake of it without handing it on down the generations. — Michael Chabon

You still owe me a yellow Porsche. — Stephenie Meyer