Maquio Clouthier Quotes & Sayings

Beethoven
his thoughts moving at
the speed of sound
transforming emotion into music
and for a moment
it was like joy
was a tangible thing
like you could touch it
like for the first time
we could watch love and
hate dance together
in a waltz of such precision and beauty
that we finally understood
the history wasn't important
to know the man
all we ever had to do was
listen. — Shane Koyczan

The minority of Mexicans who are aware of their own selves do not make up a closed or unchanging class. They are the only active group, in comparison with the Indian-Spanish inertia of the rest, and ever day they are shaping the country more and more into their own image. — Octavio Paz

Many people think of me as a modernist, as a radical in music, you know, someone who's always sort of at the avant-garde of musics, but I'm also quite a traditionalist. — Gunther Schuller

Actually, the suburbs are far more sinister places than most city dwellers imagine. Their very blandness forces the imagination into new areas. I mean, one's got to get up in the morning thinking of a deviant act, merely to make certain of one's freedom. It needn't be much; kicking the dog will do. — J.G. Ballard

How could you describe a hill and snow to someone who had never felt height or wind or that feathery, magical cold? — Lois Lowry

If you don't control your time- someone else will. If you don't protect your dream- you will fulfill someone else 's dream. — Wayde Goodall

All unnecessary vows are folly, because they suppose a prescience of the future, which has not been given us. — Samuel Johnson

Concentrate your energy, your thoughts and your capital. — Andrew Carnegie

She knew nothing of Ren except his name, his aptitude with vocabulary, the fact that he wasn't in college, and the way his hair narrowed to a curling point at the nape of his neck. And she hadn't even realized she knew that last thing until now. — Molly Ringle

In a little while they were kissing. In a little while longer, they made their slow sweet love.
The iron bed sounded like a pine forest in an ice storm, like a switch track in a Memphis trainyard, like the sweet electrical thunder of habitual love and the tragical history of the constant heart. Auntee finished first, and then Uncle soon after, and their lips were touching lightly as they did.
The rain was still falling and the scritch owl was still asleep and the dragonflies were hidden like jewels somewhere in deep brown wet grasses, nobody knew where.
Uncle rolled away from his wife and held onto her hand, never let it go, old friend, old partner, passionate wife. — Lewis Nordan

I stepped closer to him and lowered my voice. 'If you could change one thing, what would it be?'
He pulled the sheep pendant from his pocket. A question filled his eyes. I held out my hand. Riley placed it in my palm and I curled my finger around the necklace, pressing the metal into my skin. — Maria V. Snyder