Delany And Long Quotes & Sayings

It's only wasted time if you don't learn from it. — Tessa Dare

Beauty is sincerity.There are so many different ways someone can be beautiful. — Taylor Swift

You never know when the devil might come calling. — Farley Mowat

While the style of the critique may vary with the character of the critic, overly polite criticism benefits neither the proponents of new ideas nor the scientific enterprise. — Carl Sagan

No effect that requires more than 10 percent accuracy in measurement is worth investigating. — Walther Nernst

Pain ... after you've lived with it long enough, isn't pain anymore. It's something else. — Samuel R. Delany

I couldn't miss Percy's fifteenth birthday," Poseidon said. "Why, if this were Sparta, Percy would be a man today!"
"That's true," Paul said. "I used to teach ancient history."
Poseidon's eyes twinkled. "That's me. Ancient history. — Rick Riordan

What's more, I was free to do anything that did not hurt others that strengthened me and helped me in the one thing that we are all put on this earth to do: help one another - because it is the only thing that, in the long run, gives us pleasure, as receiving love and friendship and affection is the only thing that gives us joy and ameliorates the dread of our inevitable extinction. — Samuel R. Delany

I shall always be able to come up with new fantasies. As long as there are people walking around in the street, as long as I have books to read and windows to look out of, I'm not going to use them up. — Samuel R. Delany

Len's arm brushed against mine. I pulled the cream and gold comforter over
my shoulders and cuddled closer, wishing I could stay in bed all day and snuggle.
But Cupid's minions didn't get sick days or holidays or time off for good behavior.
Instead, I got a demanding boss, no pay, and chained to a man-whore till death do
us part.

I'd complain, but I didn't think Cupid's minions had a union. — Jenn Windrow

He laughed. So you see, I'm not a nut. Not a real one, anyway. I haven't been a real nut in a long time. — Samuel R. Delany

As long as you can see each day as a chance for something new to hapen, something you never experienced before, you'll stay young. — Sarah L. Delany

Our senses perceive the way they do because a specific feature of our awareness forces them to do so ... because we learn what to perceive. — Carlos Castaneda

Fire, slavery, cloth, coin, and stone - these are the basis of civilized life. Sometimes it happens that one or another of them gets hopelessly involved in the most basic appetites of a woman or a man. There are people I have met in my travels who cannot eat food unless it has been held long over fire; and there are others, like me, who cannot love without some mark of possession. Both, no doubt, seem squally strange and incomprehensible to you, 'ey, barbarian? — Samuel R. Delany

I thrust Sophie into a corner, blocking her with my body. She panted and snagged her lower lip in her teeth. "This is not my life," she insisted.
I looked at her solemnly. "I'm afraid it is. But it doesn't have to be for long. Let's just get through this. Then things go back to normal for you."
"Like they keep going back to normal for you?" Sophie hissed. "Ghost of your mother, psycho ex-best friend, company agent dating your dad, psychic vampire ex-boyfriend, werewolf current boyfriend - by the way, I can't blame you for that one," she confessed, eyes round as she mouthed the word whoa before continuing with her list, "Trip to the asylum, attempts against your life, vigilante father ... "
"Hey, the last ones are brand new. And the vigilante father thing? He'll revert."
"Anyhow, I'm not so keen on your concept of normal." I caught her staring at me. — Shannon Delany

I don't want to brag, but if I go through this, and I go back to camp, I'll have something unique to talk about. I can be like, 'Hey, not only am I not a virgin, I lost my virginity to a frog-headed exotic dancer.' Will that be something to brag about or something to be ashamed of? — Ned Vizzini

All go free when multitudes offend. — Lucan

Fiction
at least for me
requires long, relatively uninterrupted time stretches in which to bring it to fruition. I've never been a two-hour-in-the-morning writer, who could put in another six hours on Sunday afternoon. For me, a novel requires weeks of living in a largely mental and wholly internal landscape. Everything else has to be relegated to the odd hour here, the bit of time there. Sadly, however, uninterrupted time blocks are not what life doles out today to any of us with regularity. — Samuel R. Delany

And what have I invested in interpreting disfocus for chaos? This threat: the only lesson is to wait. I crouch in the smoggy terminus. The streets lose edges, the rims of thought flake. What have I set myself to fix in this dirty notebook that is not mine? Does the revelation that, though it cannot be done with words, it might be accomplished in some lingual gap, give me the right, in injury, walking with a woman and her dog in pain? Rather the long doubts: that this labor tears up the mind's moorings; that, though life may be important in the scheme, awareness is an imperfect tool with which to face it. To reflect is to fight away the sheets of silver, the carbonated distractions, the feeling that, somehow, a thumb is pressed on the right eye. This exhaustion melts what binds, releases what flows. — Samuel R. Delany

And all this while, I still loved him." "You thought you did." "Isn't that the same thing? — Cate Campbell