Black Ark Quotes & Sayings

I want to hate you, to loathe you, to detest you, but for all my attempts, the need to touch you is ten times more powerful. — Nely Cab

That politician who curries favor with the citizens and indulges them and fawns upon them and has a presentiment of their wishes, and is skillful in gratifying them, he is esteemed a great statesman. — Plato

The mole rat is the only rodent born without a fur coat. With a good lawyer, someone would pay for that little oversight. — Erma Bombeck

Rough board shelves hold a number of books, without which some of the evenings would be long indeed. — Theodore Roosevelt

Who can say which is the greater sign of creative power, the sun with its planet system swinging with governed impetus to some incalculable end, or the gold sallow catkin with its flashing system of little flies? — Mary Webb

I like metal because it's complicated, technical, brutal and I like the challenge. — Jake Pitts

The greatest comedian I've ever seen is Jack Benny. He wasn't afraid of the silences. — Bob Newhart

He that has no present Christ has a future, dark, chaotic, heaving with its destructive ocean; and over it there goes forever
black-pinioned winging its solitary and hopeless flight, the raven of his anxious thoughts, and finds no place to rest, and comes back again to the desolate ark with its foreboding croak of evil in the present and evil in the future. — Alexander MacLaren

The Quantum Mechanic will fix your car, but it won't work unless you observe him fixing it — Dean Cavanagh

Her mother had responded in kind, and the result was "unpleasantness and misery rebounding all the time. — Francine Prose

When you do drugs, you count like a chemist: The numbers are wild, the formulas are easy. Then, when you try to get clean, you start to count like a pharmacist: How many hours between doses? How much or how little do you need to maintain? Then, when you finally give it up completely, you count like Noah in his dinky, seafaring ark full of pairs of every animal in God's creation: You count days. You wait for the rain to stop, for the sky to clear, for life to ever seem normal again. And then eventually it does. Then you start to count how many cups of black coffee you need just to get through every day, how many cigarettes you smoke. You know the address of every Starbucks in a mile radius, which is easy because there so many, and you know the names of every restaurant where they allow you to smoke, which is easy because they are so few. — Elizabeth Wurtzel

The drawings don't start with 'a beautiful mark'. It has to be a mark of something out there in the world. It doesn't have to be an accurate drawing, but it has to stand for an observation, not something that is abstract, like an emotion. — William Kentridge

History keeps teaching us that we can't recognize the important events that are going to trigger changes. — David Weinberger

Well, we have this place in Telluride, Colorado. It's somewhere I can just get away and relax and think. — Joe Cocker

But in the end, black can never be white, one plus one must always equal two, and Mara Lynn was a normal little girl. — Jake Vander Ark

Behind them all, carried upon the bed of an enormous carriage with thirteen sets of iron-banded wheels, nestled within a casement crafted from the bronzed skull of a giant, was the holiest relic in all skavendom: the Black Ark, the compact between the Horned Rat and the first Seerlord. Imprinted upon a block of purest warpstone, its quality unsurpassed by the richest ores ever found, were the thirteen tyrannies, the sacred dictates by which the skaven might placate their terrible god and achieve the promise He had made to them: that one day the ratkin would inherit the whole of the world. — C.L. Werner

I slipped into the music room and, with my backpack still in my lap like a shield. I took a seat at a piano old enough to have been carried over the ark. The room was small, quiet.
A sanctuary.
It was always this way for me. Teh stored instruments in the closets called out like old friends. The bent and scratched black music stands welcomed me to thier home. The oily smell, a perfume. It was like ... church. — Jenny B. Jones