Qumric Quotes & Sayings

My world slowed and I closed my eyes. "I am going to give you my heart now," I whispered. "Please don't break it again. — Jessica Verday

For us Africans, literature must serve a purpose: to expose, embarrass, and fight corruption and authoritarianism. It is understandable why the African artist is utilitarian. — Ama Ata Aidoo

For a man with an education the world is a wide place and the opportunities are many — Louis L'Amour

People who deal with life generously and large-heartedly go on multiplying relationships to the end. — A. C. Benson

We could still have it. — Christie Golden

But I still don't have knowledge, interpreting the surprises that others don't know about, that will drive a new narrative. You have to work and think and stress and fret to surmise the surprises by first fathoming the pulse. — George Gilder

Carl sat musing until the sun leaped above the prairie, and in the grass about him all the small creatures of day began to tune their tiny instruments. Birds and insects without number began to chirp, to twitter, to snap and whistle, to make all manner of fresh shrill noises. The pasture was flooded with light; every clump of ironweed and snow-on-the-mountain threw a long shadow, and the golden light seemed to be rippling through the curly grass like the tide racing in. — Willa Cather

When you're telling a story, you've got to give details. — Gao Xingjian

And how will you know when you've found this elusive someone?" Shahrzad retorted.
"I suspect she will be like air. Like knowing how to breathe." He regarded her with the stillness of a hawk as he said these words, and Shahrzad's throat went dry.
"Poetry," she whispered. "Not reality. — Renee Ahdieh

All my forebears worked for a living. My grandfather painted portraits. My mother too. My aunt painted seascapes. — Erica Jong

How ... ?" she began, and she stopped. She was too tired. She hoped that she wouldn't have to say the rest of the sentence, that Billy would finish it for her. But Billy had no idea what was on her mind. "How what, Mother?" he prompted. She swallowed hard, shed some tears. Then she gathered energy from all over her ruined body, even from her toes and fingertips. At last she had accumulated enough to whisper this complete sentence: "How did I get so old? — Kurt Vonnegut

Because it's of more importance to community, that innocence should be protected, than it is, that guilt should be punished. — David McCullough