Semaili Serif Quotes & Sayings

You can't tell that the coffin holds the body of a boy.
He wasn't even sixteen but his coffin's the same size as a man's would be.
It's not just that he was young, but because it was so sudden. No one should die the way he did; that's what the faces here say.
I think about him, in there, with all that space, and I want to stop them. I want to open the box and climb in with him. To wrap him up in a duvet. I can't bear the thought of him being cold.
And all the time the same question flails around my head, like a hawkmoth round a light-bulb: Is it possible to keep loving somebody when they kill someone you love? — C.J. Flood

It will all be better in the end and if it is not better then it must not be the end yet — Dean Koontz

However, I wasn't very good at the sciences, or didn't have a lot of help in the sciences or something but certainly didn't set science for my A level. And when I came to take my A levels I didn't get a good enough result to go to University. — Jeremy Irons

A poem is a frozen moment
melted by each reader for themselves
to flow into the here and now. — Hilde Domin

I'm not one for a lot of media attention. — Travis Hafner

A minimum of two voting members must be at arm's length from the thesis (one of these two is usually the external examiner). A maximum of two members can participate remotely (via videoconference or teleconference). — Anonymous

I lowered my voice, because as I'd learned some time ago, a whisper was louder than a scream — David Arnold

How to repulse a demon (an old problem)? The demons, especially if they are demons of language (and what else could they be?) are fought by language. Hence I can hope to exorcise the demonic word which is breathed into my ears (by myself) if I substitute for it (if I have the gifts of language for doing so) another, calmer word (I yield to euphemism). Thus: I imagined I had escaped from the crisis at last, when behold
favored by a long car trip
a flood of language sweeps me away, I keep tormenting myself with the thought, desire, regret, and rage of the other; and I add to these wounds the discouragement of having to acknowledge that I am falling back, relapsing; but the French vocabulary is a veritable pharmacopoeia (poison on one side, antidote on the other): no, this is not a relapse, only a last soubresaut, a final convulsion of the previous demon. — Roland Barthes