Booklets Scholastic Book Quotes & Sayings

In the intoxication of falling, man was prone to believe himself propelled upward. — Hermann Broch

The right thing to do usually comes straight from your gut. When you work fast, you tend to work more from the gut, because your mind simply doesn't have as much time to justify an easier way to do things. — Larry Winget

In these days half our diseases come from neglect of the body in overwork of the brain. — Edward Bulwer-Lytton, 1st Baron Lytton

Man's best support is a very dear friend. — Marcus Tullius Cicero

The Hemlock Tearoom and Stationery — Lemony Snicket

And I want to tell you about everything but I can't because I couldn't stand for you to have that look on your face all the time. I just need you to look at me and think that I'm normal. I just really need that from you. — Nina LaCour

I was trying to work out who I was. — Sue Whitaker

A great man is a gift, in some measure a revelation of God. A great man, living for high ends, is the divinest thing that can be seen on earth. The value and interest of history are derived chiefly from the lives and services of the eminent men whom it commemorates. Indeed, without these, there would be no such thing as history, and the progress of a nation would be little worth recording, as the march of a trading caravan across a desert. — George Stillman Hillard

If you want peace, understand war. — B.H. Liddell Hart

Affection! Affection is false. — Elizabeth I

In a great affliction there is no light either in the stars or in the sun; for when the inward light is fed with fragrant oil; there can be no darkness though the sun should go out. But when, like a sacred lamp in the temple, the inward light is quenched, there is no light outwardly, though a thousand suns should preside in the heavens. — Henry Ward Beecher

Where shall he find, in foreign land,
So lone a lake, so sweet a strand!
There is no breeze upon the fern,
No ripple on the lake,
Upon her eyry nods the erne,
The deer has sought the brake;
The small birds will not sing aloud,
The springing trout lies still,
So darkly glooms yon thunder-cloud,
That swathes, as with a purple shroud — Walter Scott