Derelict Places Quotes & Sayings

I'd argue that everybody wants to do something that matters — Linus Torvalds

[During fee negotiations for singing in Vienna:] I'm not interested in money, but it must be more than anyone else gets. — Maria Callas

But should it matter what we do as long as we use our strength courageously and lead a life without desperation to the end? Isn't it wrong to escape, make a detour and be lost, all of which have led me here to the farthest-flung edge of the world? Wouldn't I have had a good courageous life if only I had been able to resist sickness and fear? Will I be made to face the consequences just because I had nothing to counter a nameless and agonizing desperation? — Annemarie Schwarzenbach

I don't run away from a challenge because I am afraid. Instead, I run towards it because the only way to escape fear is to trample it beneath your foot — Nadia Comaneci

Our task is not to find the maximum amount of content in a work of art, mush less to squeeze more content out of the work than is already there. Our task is to cut back on content so we can see the thing at all. The aim of all commentary on art now should be to make works of art - and, by analogy, our own experience - more, rather than less, real to us. — Susan Sontag

I celebrated success in the art world, which was quite sudden, and I suddenly had $1,000 a month, when formerly I had nothing, basically. So what we did with this money: we had a baby, we bought a car, and we celebrated by going to Rome, because it would be warmer and better looking. — Peter Saul

Whenever an earthquake or tsunami takes thousands of innocent lives, a shocked world talks of little else. — Anne M. Mulcahy

But even that question wasn't definite enough. Perhaps it was a statement after all: I don't want to die yet without knowing you. — Patricia Highsmith

Life is short. You have to be able to laugh at our pain or we never move on. — Jeff Ross

Her perfume enveloped him as he reached for her. His hands smoothed over soft fabric before finding the warmth of her skin. She lifted her mouth to his and kissed him hungrily, greedily.
She tasted so good. Like sin. Like every dirty thought he'd ever had. — Sarah Mayberry

Marooned by all but one of his new disciples, the busker complete his act unfazed. The perfumed air seems to be replaced by a faint electrical smell like ozone after a lightning strike. When the man becomes a sterling tableau in the setting sun, Leah stares into his unblinking moonstone eye. — Laura Treacy Bentley

I think how this is always the way he is, giving me something even when most would think there was nothing left to do but let go — Ally Condie