Slawek Improvements Quotes & Sayings

I just don't think it's very dignified to ask people to like you. You can just wind up being somebody's ottoman. — Mos Def

It has long been my belief that everyone's library contains an Odd Shelf. On this shelf rests a small, mysterious corpus of volumes whose subject matter is completely unrelated to the rest of the library, yet which, upon closer inspection, reveals a good deal about its owner. — Anne Fadiman

Telling a story ain't hard," Lettie had said. "All you need is a beginning, middle, and end."
But that was the problem. I was all middle. I'd always been between the last place and the next. How was I supposed to come up with a story for Sister Redempta or even a "Remember when ... " to reminisce on with somebody else? — Clare Vanderpool

Hi" she said.
He gave her the sexiest crooked smile. "Hi." He stepped into her space, both his hands going to her hair, pushing it back off her face, just running his fingers through it. Touching her like he always did. "What was it you wanted?" he asked, no rush or urgency to his voice.
"You." The word fell from her lips unbidden, but she didn't' want to take it back. She didn't have time for anything but honesty. "Just you. — Laura Kaye

When I described Madame de T's night, I recalled the well-known equation from one of the first chapters of the textbook of existential mathematics: the degree of speed is directly proportional to the intensity of forgetting. From that equation we can deduce various corrollaries, for instance this one: our period is given over to the demon of speed, and that is the reason it so easily forgets its own self. Now I would reverse that statement and say: our period is obsessed by the desire to forget, and it is to fulfill that desire that it gives over to the demon of speed; it picks up the pace to show us that it no longer wishes to be remembered; that it is tired of itself; sick of itself; that it wants to blow out the tiny trembling flame of memory. — Milan Kundera

Three black men walked past us wearing airline uniforms, visored caps, white pants and jackets whose shoulders bristled with epaulettes. Black pilots? Black captains? It was 1962. In our country, the cradle of democracy, whose anthem boasted 'the land of the free, the home of the brave,' the only black men in our airports fueled planes, cleaned cabins, loaded food or were skycaps, racing the pavement for tips. — Maya Angelou

she discovered that I was literate and looked at me with more than faint distaste. — Harper Lee

A king's pride doesn't fill the people's bellies. — Brian McClellan

When somebody you love dies, you want the world to just stop, but it doesn't ... everything keeps going, and so it's up to you to catch the moment ... to savor that time ... years ago when you ran hand in hand down the hill with your sister. — Wes Adamson

I guess it's like friendship. Some people come and go from your life like ships passing in the night, some people stay forever. It's funny though, when you meet forever friends, you just know that they are going to be your friend for the rest of your life - there's that connection there that you don't get from those fleeting friendships. — Holly Martin

In the traditional urban novel, there is only survival or not. The suburban idea, the conformist idea, that agony can be seen to and cured by doctors or psychoanalysis or self-knowledge is nowhere to be found in the city. Talking is a way of life, but it is not a cure. Same with religion. — Jane Smiley

People who you are close with don't understand you. The people you usually lean on have changed. You rely on your other friends that you usually wouldn't tell your secretes, but still, they are there. You move away from the people you trust toward your new found trustees, and the people you called close are mad you because YOU'VE changed. So now you're confused, and now you think you've changed. Tell whoever told you that to kiss you on the cheek, and wave good-bye for good. — Megan Johnson

The superstitious man wishes he did not believe in gods, as the atheist does not, but fears to disbelieve in them. — Plutarch

There is no beginning and there is no end. Nothing is final. There is no absolute. There is no highest point, nor is there a lowest point. These configurations are ideas. Ideas are primitive constructs, symbolic representations, reflections in a mirror. — Frederick Lenz

It was really sad Bobby Neuwirth's and my affair. The only true, passionate, and lasting love scene, and I practically ended up in the psychopathic ward. I had really learned about sex from him, making love, loving, giving. It just completely blew my mind it drove me insane. I was like a sex slave to this man. I could make love for forty-eight hours, forty-eight hours, forty-eight hours, without getting tired. But the minute he left me alone, I felt so empty and lost that I would start popping pills. — Edie Sedgwick