Roblin Mb Quotes & Sayings

The significant difference between Proust and Faulkner, for Sartre, is that where Proust discovers salvation in time, in the recovery of time past, for Faulkner time is never lost, however much he may want, like a mystic, to forget time. Both writers emphasize the transitoriness of emotion, of the condition of love or misery, or whatever passes because it is transitory in time. "Proust really should have employed a technique like Faulkner's," Sartre legislates, "that was the logical outcome of his metaphysic. Faulkner, however, is a lost man, and because he knows that he is lost he risks pushing his thoughts to its conclusion. Proust is a classicist and a Frenchman; and the French lose themselves with caution and always end by finding themselves. — John McCormick

People would say, 'Boy, I really loved you in Ferris Bueller, and it would really aggravate me. I thought I was a one-trick pony, and people had seen the trick. Now that things have worked out and I've gone on to other things, I'm really pleased that people enjoy it. — Alan Ruck

They had hoped that Goyle, who was almost as stupid as he was mean, might be thrown out, but he had passed, too. It was a shame, but as Ron said, you couldn't have everything in life. And — J.K. Rowling

I think also there was a lot of coming to terms with where I am in life, where I fit in as a gay man in America, and getting more comfortable with who I am. — Bob Mould

If I had to choose between sex and food, I would choose food, but I'd choose sex over nearly everything else. — Helen Gurley Brown

You can't talk to thermodynamics and you can't pray to probability theory. You — Eliezer Yudkowsky

I looked closely at it for the first time; the charm was just a slim line of silver - half of it hammered into the shape of a feather, the other half a dagger. It was interesting and beautiful; just like him. — Michelle Hodkin

He that taketh not his cross and followeth after me, is not worthy of me. — Pope Urban II

That which we die for lives as wholly as that which we live for dies. — E. E. Cummings

We are all very lucky to live in a world where there is this much music. — John Frusciante

For the next nine months, Sylvia would report on campus trends, politics, tastes, style. It was an honor, but it was grueling. Sylvia was overworked. She had boyfriend problems. She longed for Europe. She broke her leg in a skiing accident. Her best friend, Marcia Brown, had gotten engaged and moved off campus - other girls were away on their junior year abroad. The whole campus seemed mired in some bleak haze- there were suicide attempts, abortions, disappearances, and hasty marriages. Sylvia coped with shopping binges in downtown Northhampton- sheer blouses, French pumps, red cashmere sweaters, white skirts, and tight black pullovers - clothes more suited to voguish amusements than studying. Everyone wanted to be one of Mademoiselle's guest editors, but Sylvia needed it - some shot of glamour to pull her out of the mud. — Elizabeth Winder