Karatzas Ave Quotes & Sayings

For eyes we have no models in the remotely antique. — Edgar Allan Poe

The whole of nature is a conjugation of the verb to eat, in the active and passive. — William Ralph Inge

A cold-blooded, calculation, unprincipled, usurper, without a virtue, no statesman, knowing nothing of commerce, political economy, or civil government, and supplying ignorance by bold presumption. — Thomas Jefferson

Nothing is mysterious, no human relation. Except love. — Susan Sontag

Medical statistics are a little bit like a bikini: what they reveal is suggestive, but what they conceal is vital. — Irving R. Levine

Let me tell you what's more immoral. Doing nothing. Sitting back in your comfortable chair in your comfortable home thinking that just because you sponsor a child in Zambia you're doing enough. — Michael Robotham

A final stand, then. One last battle. At least he could say that he had fought. When he met his brothers and sisters on the far side of death, he would tell them that he had not yielded. He might have betrayed everything that they had been bred for, but he had never yielded. — Paolo Bacigalupi

Most of the time I manage to forget to be afraid. But sometimes I think, 'This could be is,' and I move forward anyway. — David Levithan

Do you know what they're called? They're the Shadows That Live, Zuze. They're assassins."
"Like me," said Zuzanna cheerfully. — Laini Taylor

Culture! Yes - if we had it! But there are just a few little local patches, dying out here and there for lack of - well, hoeing and cross-fertilising: the last remnants of the old European tradition that your forebears brought with them. But you're in a pitiful little minority: you've got no centre, no competition, no audience. You're like the pictures on the walls of a deserted house: 'The Portrait of a Gentleman.' You'll never amount to anything, any of you, till you roll up your sleeves and get right down into the muck. That, or emigrate ... God! If I could emigrate ... — Edith Wharton

Nobody yelled or ran out of the door. Nobody blew a police whistle. Everything was quiet and sunny and calm. No cause for excitement whatever. It's only Marlowe, finding another body. He does it rather well by now. Murder-a-day Marlowe, they call him. They have the meat wagon following him around to follow up on the business he finds.
A nice enough fellow, in an ingenuous sort of way. — Raymond Chandler