Bearhunter Quotes & Sayings

At sacred-time, I will give birth to divine-twins in Jesus Name. Amen. — Lailah Gifty Akita

These letters, and then words, and then sentences, that are written on your manuscript are all answers to questions. Writing is nothing but a long journey of confronting questions. Accomplishment will bring you peace, but will not make a writer of you. — Rabisankar Bal

promised him, of course, that I wouldn't say anything, which I wouldn't have anyway, because of the sheer unpleasantry of divulging an unattractive truth to an attractive person.) — Alena Graedon

Whenever her father or grandmother asked her about pain, Marjorie would say she had never known it. As a young child, someone had told her that the scars her father wore on his face and her grandmother on her hands and feet were born of great pain. And because Marjorie had no scars that resembled those, she could never bring herself to complain of pain. Once, — Yaa Gyasi

I share with many people the feeling that there is a sweetness and constancy to light that falls into a studio from the north sky that sets it beyond any other illumination. It is a light of such penetrating clarity that even a simple object lying by chance in such a light takes on an inner glow, almost a voluptuousness. — Irving Penn

Thirty nerve-shattering minutes passed before Cadeon returned. "What happened? Tell me!"
"Everything's taken care of."
She frowned. "You smell like beer."
He rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, Holly, like me and the cop were downing a beer together."
Of course, he and the cop had completely been downing a beer together. — Kresley Cole

He slept and in his sleep he saw his friends again and they were coming downriver on muddy floodwaters, Hoghead and the City Mouse and J-Bone and Bearhunter and Bucket and Boneyard and J D Davis and Earl Solomon, all watching him where he stood on the shore. They turned gently in their rubber bullboat, bobbing slightly on the broad and ropy waters, their feet impinging in the floor of the thing with membraneous yellow tracks. They glided past somberly. Out of a lightless dawn receding, past the pale daystar. A fog more obscure closed away their figures gone a sadder way by psychic seas across the Tarn of Acheron. From a rock in the river he waved them farewell but they did not wave back. — Cormac McCarthy

I have a concept of Naples that is not so much of a city, per se, but rather an ingredient of the human spirit that I detect in everyone, Neapolitan or not. The idea that 'Neapolitanism' and mass ignorance are somehow indissolubly linked is one that I am prepared to fight with all the strength I have. — Luciano De Crescenzo