Li Sebastian Quotes & Sayings

The reason to preserve wilderness is that we need it. We need wilderness of all kinds, large and small, public and private. Wee need to go now and again into places where our work is disallowed, where our hopes and plans have no standing. We need to come into the presence of the unqualified and mysterious formality of Creation. — Wendell Berry

I wanted to cry. I wanted to hide. I wanted to drink. I wanted to... wrap my arms around him and never let go. My pulse felt erratic, and my thoughts jumbled around in my brain. I felt like a hyperactive, bipolar schizophrenic on crack. — Sibylla Matilde

What I miss today more than anything else - I don't go to church as much anymore - but that old-time religion, that old singing, that old praying which I love so much. That is the great strength of my being, of my writing. — Ernest Gaines

Time remorselessly rambles down the corridors and streets of our lives. but it is not until autumn that most of us become aware that our tickets are stamped with a terminal destination. — Joe L. Wheeler

Law is king of all. — Henry Alford

According to some estimates, almost half the scientists and high technologists on Earth are employed full- or part-time on military matters. — Carl Sagan

The most beautiful stories ever told are the most difficult to take. For — Kristen Ashley

My heart is a field of lilies blooming under a pane of glass, pitter-pattering to life like a rush of raindrops. — Tahereh Mafi

My skin is on fire with every touch, every contact, and my body throbs with unfamiliar need. We're dangerously close to throwing caution to the wind. Logan's body pulses and trembles over and under me, and I know he's feeling it too. I want to give into it, to go there with him. I want him to be my first, my last, my one and only. I want to give myself to him fully; heart, mind, body and soul, but I can't. The acknowledgment assaults me with soul-shattering clarity. — Siobhan Davis

For feverish mornings after he left, she lay awake in that guest room in their house, in the rumples of the sheet he had slept in. She would get him on every turn: his aftershave lingering on the sides of the pillow that sometimes caught her, waking up from her dreams of him, in nuclear nights, his gaze: drenching her like water drops on burning rocks. She herself didn't have any smell. He had to really lean in the first time to make out the attar amidst the freckles on her neck. And then there would be at least two, never only one: Jasmine and that other thing that he could never place- a smell that was between imitation pearls and the insides of a Durga Puja afternoon. On some days even in Simla, this she, would waft in by his collars nonchalantly.'
('Left from Dhakeshwari') — Kunal Sen

But I always need to identify with a character to write about him or her - and by 'identify,' I mean see the world through that person's eyes and have a strong sense of the inner logic of their acts and decisions, wacky or wrongheaded though they might be. In that sense, I think there's some of me in all of them. — Jennifer Egan