Something About Mary Love Quotes & Sayings

Students love trying to imitate Nabokov, which teaches them a lot - mostly about why not to imitate somebody wired so differently from yourself. Nabokov wannabes don't sound just like turds, but like pretentious turds. The writer's best voice will grow from embracing her own "you-ness" - which I call talent, and which is best expressed in voice. Which — Mary Karr

Not anyone who says "I'm going to be
careful and smart in the matters of love,"
who says, "I'm going to choose slowly,"
but only those lovers who didn't choose at all
but were, as it were, chosen
by something invisible
and powerful and uncontrollable
and beautiful and possibly even
unsuitable--
only those know what I'm talking about
in this talking about love. — Mary Oliver

And infatuated be damned. He was near to being blinded by his attraction to her. He was in love, damn it all. He disliked her, he resented her, he disapproved of almost everything about her, yet he was head over ears in love with her, like a foolish schoolboy.
He wondered grimly what he was going to do about it.
He was not amused.
Or in any way pleased. — Mary Balogh

Love is a connection with another person, either through birth or through something else that I cannot even explain. It is often just an attraction at first. But it goes far deeper than that. It is a determination to care for the other person no matter what and to allow oneself to be cared for in return. It is a commitment to make the other happy and to be happy oneself. It is not possessive, but neither is it a victim. And it does not always bring happiness. Often it brings a great deal of pain, especially when the beloved is suffering and one feels impotent to comfort. It is what life is all about. It is openness and trust and vulnerability. — Mary Balogh

As I said, I don't expect you to understand - "
"And I don't," he cut in. "Ye ask how I can live a life that I know will end with the hangman's noose. Well, at least I am alive. Ye might as well have climbed inside yer husband's coffin and let yerself be buried with his corpse."
Her hand flashed out before she'd thought about it, the smack against his cheek loud in the little courtyard.
Silence had her eyes locked with Michael's, her chest rising and falling swiftly, but she was aware that Bert and Harry had looked up. Even Mary and Lad had paused in their play.
Without taking his gaze from hers, Michael reached out and grasped her hand. He raised her hand to his lips and softly kissed the center of her palm.
He looked at her, her hand still at his lips. "Don't take to yer grave afore yer time, Silence, m'love. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Strange Love

Strange love, I'm experiencing a strange love
And all those funny funny things you do
They only drive me closer
And closer to you, yeah

Strange romance, they say I'll never ever ever ever have a chance
But every time I close my eyes
And try to realize it I find it harder
And harder to do

I wonder, I wonder if he ever thinks about me
And if it's so, I wanna know 'cause
Every day I love him more and more

Strange, strange affair, keep hoping that someday, one day you'll care
Enough to come into my arms so that I can give you
All my and all my, all my love, all my love, all my love, all my love
All my love, oh I just wanna give you all my love — Mary Wells

I want to write something so simply about love or about pain that even as you are reading you feel it and as you read you keep feeling it and though it be my story it will be common, though it be singular it will be known to you so that by the end you will think - no, you will realize - that it was all the while yourself arranging the words, that it was all the time words that you yourself, out of your heart had been saying. — Mary Oliver

I have a bad feeling about this," she said.
"We'll fake it. And if push comes to shove, we can just sing Goober Peas and waltz around."
"Rebecca might not find that very funny."
"Rebecca is a Northerner. You can tell because there aren't any cheese straws on the snack table. — Mary Jane Hathaway

Don't do that. Don't make any part of this about me not wanting you, because you know that's bullshit," I warned him. "Okay." "I will be all over you if that's what you want." "Yes," he croaked out. "That's what I fuckin' want." I lunged at him, hugging him tight, crushing him against me as I pressed my lips to his ear. "I love you, Ian Doyle. Only you, and every time you go away it fuckin' kills me. I don't ever want to us to be apart. — Mary Calmes

Presentation was the name of the Catholic church [my mother's family] attended, and this is what I love about the Irish: My mother became known as the second prettiest girl at Presentation parish. "Why was that okay?" I once asked her. "Oh, because everybody knew Mary Griffin was the most beautiful girl at Presentation," she replied. My mom was happy to be on the D-list! Just like I'm not trying to be Brooke Shields, she wasn't trying to be Mary Griffin. — Kathy Griffin

People make films about all kinds of relationships, but they won't do these extremely intense platonic love affairs that happen between young girls. In a way they are more intense than anything else you ever have, and that's what I wanted to make a film about, though it was in the context of a horror film. — Mary Harron

I think we fall in love and become adults and become citizens in a way by writing stories about ourselves. — Mary Karr

Think of the many, many stories about God choosing people. There are Moses, Abraham, and Sarah; there are David, Jeremiah, Gideon, Samuel, Jonah, and Isaiah. There is Israel itself. Much later there are Peter and Paul, and, most especially, Mary.
God is always choosing people. First impressions aside, God is not primarily choosing them for a role or a task, although it might appear that way. God is really choosing them to be God's self in this world, each in a unique situation. If they allow themselves to experience being chosen, being a beloved, being somehow God's presence in the world, they invariably communicate that same chosenness to others. And thus the Mystery passes on from age to age. Yes, we do have roles and tasks in this world, but finally they are all the same - to uniquely be divine love in a way that no one else can or will. — Richard Rohr

That's what's so gorgeous about humanity. It doesn't matter how bleak our daily lives are, we still fight for the light. I think that's our divinity. We lean into love, even in the most hideous circumstances. We manage to hope. — Mary Karr

I felt my mouth go dry, my throat constrict. What possible interpretation could Peter place on those words, other than that they were about him? - that the entire song was about him? — Jennifer Paynter

She had not told her mother about Denys, but she had a suspicion that Mrs. Shannon knew all about it nevertheless. It was unlike her not to want to satisfy her curiosity when she came upon her daughter sobbing in various parts of the house. She had asked no questions; she had simply donned the role of the heavily understanding mother, and had done a lot of shoulder-patting and given Mary an expensive evening dress from the shop. Mary had no idea how she knew, but was certain that if she had not known she would never have rested until she did. — Monica Dickens

This profusion of questions, exclamations, and tales is the new version of the Society. Its members are spread all over the world, but they are joined by their love of books, of talking about books, and of their fellow readers. We are transformed each time we pass a book along, each time we ask a question about it. — Mary Ann Shaffer

Ricco will take care of you," he said. "Ricco thinks you are beautiful-he blushes when your name is mentioned."
Ricco took their order and blushed when he put a glass of wine in front of Lauren. Mary's eyes twinkled, but when he left she looked directly at Lauren and said without preamble, "Would you like to talk about Nick?"
Lauren choked on her wine. "Please,let's not ruin a lovely lunch. I already know more than enough about him."
"What,for example?" Mary persisted gently.
"I know that he's an egotistical, arrogant, bad-tempered, dictatorial tyrant!"
"And you love him." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.
"Yes," Lauren said angrily.
Mary was struggling obviously to hide her amusement at Lauren's tone. "I was certain that you did. I also suspect that he loves you. — Judith McNaught

You can love a person without loving everything about that person. — Mary Higgins Clark

I love using my imagination. I love writing about animals. — Mary Pope Osborne

A truce to philosophy! - Life is before me, and I rush into possession. Hope, glory, love, and blameless ambition are my guides, and my soul knows no dread. What has been, though sweet, is gone; the present is good only because it is about to change, and the to come is all my own. — Mary Shelley

I love to fly. It's just you're alone, there's peace and quiet, nothing around you but clear blue sky. No one to hassle you. No one to tell you where to go or what to do. The only bad part about flying is having to come back down to the fuckin' world. — Mary Ellen Mark

After a moment, he added more seriously: 'I don't get as angry as m'father used to about things. Or maybe I', just better at hiding m'feelings.'
'I fear I'm not very good at hiding my feelings.'
He covered my hand with his own. 'That's what I like about you. I liked it from the first. You're so different from the others. — Jennifer Paynter

If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don't hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happened better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that's often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don't be afraid of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb. (Don't Hesitate) — Mary Oliver

I love reading all kinds of books. I usually have about ten books going at any one time - books about the past, the present, novels, non-fiction, poetry, mythology, religion, etc. Reading is my favorite thing to do. — Mary Pope Osborne

Appalling things can happen to children. And even a happy childhood is filled with sadnesses. Is there any other period in your life when you hate your best friend on Monday and love them again on Tuesday? But at eight, 10, 12, you don't realise you're going to die. There is always the possibility of escape. There is always somewhere else and far away, a fact I had never really appreciated until I read Gitta Sereny's profoundly unsettling Cries Unheard about child-killer Mary Bell.
At 20, 25, 30, we begin to realise that the possibilities of escape are getting fewer. We begin to picture a time when there will no longer be somewhere else and far away. We have jobs, children, partners, debts, responsibilities. And if many of these things enrich our lives immeasurably, those shrinking limits are something we all have to come to terms with.
This, I think, is the part of us to which literary fiction speaks. — Mark Haddon

nothing about love is easy. — Mary Elizabeth

Now, about Markham V. Reynolds (Junior). Your questions regarding that gentleman are very delicate, very subtle, very much like being smacked in the head with a mallet. Am I in love with him? What kind of a question is that? It's a tuba among the flutes, and I expect better of you. The first rule of snooping is to come at it sideways - when you began writing me dizzy letters about Alexander, I didn't ask if you were in love with him, I asked what his favorite animal was. And your answer told me everything I needed to know about him - how many men would admit that they loved ducks? (This brings up an important point: I don't know what Mark's favorite animal is. I doubt it's a duck.) — Mary Ann Shaffer

But I love him like crazy, you know? And when you love someone like crazy, should you stand around being scared that something might not work out, or do you do something about it and take a chance? — Mary Calmes

If people can find something that they love about themselves after going to one of my shows, then I am so addicted to that feeling. It's the most gratifying thing on earth. — Mary Lambert

The truth of it was he didn't want her. He wanted Mary Kate with every cell of his body. He missed everything about her. The feel of her sleeping at his side. Her gentle snores. Her soft brown curls tickling his nose enough to wake him from a sound sleep even on nights when he needed it most. Her smile. The smell of her. At odd moments he thought he had heard her laughter, or he'd catch a glimpse of her in the corner of an eye, but all of it was a lie, and every time it happened it was as if someone had ripped a deep wound in his chest. The pain was raw enough to make him want to take a razor to his wrist, but each time he considered acting upon the idea something stopped him, and so, he stumbled on barely alive and wishing for an end. At times he couldn't breathe, couldn't move without wanting to scream. — Stina Leicht

Something must be done about the food."
Seeing his speculative glance Clare laid down her fork and gave him a warning scowl. "Yes, I'm a good cook, but I will not have time to work in the kitchen. And don't try to convince me that a mistress also has to cook for her lover."
"I wasn't thinking of wasting your valuable time in the kitchen." He smiled mischievously. "But a mistress can do interesting thing with food. Shall I describe them?"
"No!"
"Another time, perhaps. — Mary Jo Putney

Mary got pregnant from a kid named Tom
Who said he was in love
He said 'Don't worry about a thing, baby doll
I'm the man you've been dreaming of,'
But three months later
He said he won't date her or return her call
And she sweared 'God damn, if I find that man
I'm cutting off his balls,'
And then she heads for the clinic
And she gets some static walking through the doors
They call her a killer, and they call her a sinner
And they call her a whore

God forbid you ever had to walk a mile in her shoes
Cause then you really might know what it's like to have to choose — Everlast

All Jesus' pictures are falsifications; they cannot be about the real Jesus. This real man must have been totally different, because we know he enjoyed drinking - it is impossible to think of a person who enjoys drinking and not laughing. He enjoyed women - it is difficult to think of a man who enjoys women and not laughing. He was friendly, almost in love, with a prostitute, Mary Magdalene. It is difficult to move with a prostitute - he was not moving with a Catholic monk, not with a priest, not with the Pope ... with a prostitute! These were the condemnations against him. — Rajneesh

Peter.' It was the first time I had used his name. 'You heard me sing tonight, did you not?'
'Yes, love.'
The endearment took my breath away - made me forget what I meant to say. I stood there with but one thought: He must care about me. — Jennifer Paynter

What about justice," he asked, "and charity, and resignation, and courage, and everything which makes the human soul to live!" Religion, he continued, "is a spirit, a movement of the heart. You make of it a power, a society, an exterior force, something which struggles with other powers and other societies. To love God and one's fellow man, is it necessary to have so much materiality?"42 — Mary McAuliffe

When I love, I love with everything within me."
Seeing him with his child, this was obvious. Did he mean ... yes, he meant exactly what he said, and it was like he wanted her to know it went much deeper than only with his child. That whatever he loved, he loved with everything inside of him. "I sense that about you, Tristan. Your actions and words are heartfelt. — Mary J. McCoy-Dressel

Now that I think about it, maybe he is a werewolf. I can picture him lunging over the moors in hot pursuit of his prey, and I'm certain that he wouldn't think twice about eating an innocent bystander. I'll watch him closely at the next full moon. He's asked me to go dancing tomorrow
perhaps I should wear a high collar. Oh, that's vampires, isn't it? I think I am a little giddy. (After meeting Mr. Markham V. Reynolds, Jr.) — Mary Ann Shaffer

He felt so tired, so weary of holding on with an iron grip to something he knew was slipping away.
"You can't make someone love you," he said.
Her hand stilled for a moment, the dirty tissue between her fingers. "True."
"Even if you love them so much you'd do anything, anything, for them." The truth of his words sank in. Speaking about it wasn't helping. It felt worse, like probing an open wound.
"Even if," his grandmasaid, nodding.
"Sometimes they pick another person to love when you've been right in front of them the whole time."
"It does happen." Her voice was soft.
"And then there's nothing left but to keep going as you were, pretending you never felt anything more than . . ."
"Friendship?" Her eyes met his and there was the faintest glimmer of tears.
"But I don't think I can have even that, anymore. — Mary Jane Hathaway

I love the idea of a woman being able to discover the idea of power this way, on such a scale. And I don't know about that, what it means - well, I guess I'd better, or my part's in trouble. — Mary McDonnell

Some lines you just don't cross. Not in my business."
"Your business?" Georgia rolled her eyes. "You mean the private detective business? I wasn't aware you guys had such ironclad rules about making out with clients." She ignored the choking sound he made. "Seriously, have you even seen The Maltese Falcon?"
Darius' face heated. "This isn't some movie, Ms. Clare. You're not Mary Astor, and I'm sure as hell no Humphrey Bogart. Here in the real world, there are rules. — Laura Oliva

Mary Fisher lives in a High Tower, on the edge of the sea: she writes a great deal about the nature of love. She tells lies. — Faye Weldon

Many strong girls have similar stories: They were socially isolated and lonely in adolescence. Smart girls are often the girls most rejected by peers. Their strength is a threat and they are punished for being different. Girls who are unattractive or who don't worry about their appearance are scorned. This isolation is often a blessing because it allows girls to develop a strong sense of self. Girls who are isolated emerge from adolescence more independent and self-sufficient than girls who have been accepted by others.
Strong girls may protect themselves by being quiet and guarded so that their rebellion is known by only a few trusted others. They may be cranky and irascible and keep critics at a distance so that only people who love them know what they are up to. They may have the knack of shrugging off the opinions of others or they may use humor to deflect the hostility that comes their way. — Mary Pipher

I just love Wisconsin. I'm a fourth-generation Wisconsinite,and my great grandparents were farmers. My grandfather delivered the mail. My mom was the first in her family to go to college. My dad started this business that becomes an international success. And I just believe very strongly in Wisconsin and who we are and the potential that this state has. And I'm really concerned about the direction that we're headed. — Mary Burke

But that is what life is all about, he said. It is about dreaming and making those dreams come true with effort and determination - and love. — Mary Balogh

Lucy gripped her chilled glass of orange and raspberry juice. When Rebecca talked about Austen, she'd mostly mentioned Mr. Darcy or Mr. Knightley. She hadn't really thought of the doe-eyed, pale-skinned heroines.
On the screen, Anne Elliot walked down a long hallway, glancing just once at covered paintings, her mouth a grim line. Lucy thought Jane Austen would start the story with the romance, or the loss of it, but instead the tale seemed to begin with Anne's home, and having to make difficult decisions. Maybe this writer from over two hundred years ago knew how everything important met at the intersection of family, home, love, and loss. This was something Lucy understood with every fiber of her being. — Mary Jane Hathaway

I love my family but my family - they're the type of people that never let you forget anything you ever did ... I was in the first grade Christmas play - I'm playing Mary. Now, during the course of the play, I dropped the baby Jesus ... They still talk about this. I go to my family reunion, and one of my cousins just had a baby. So I'm like, 'Oh, that's a cute little baby. Let me hold the baby ... ' And my aunt runs over, 'Don't you give her that baby! You know she dropped the baby Jesus!' — Wanda Sykes

We stood there, squeezing each other's hands as though trying to press through the flesh to the bones and then beyond. She kissed my cheek and neck, and I felt the joy of omnipresent love
everything around me speaking about me with affection, and Mary was listening. — Aleksandar Hemon

He is so shy, Juliet. He always has been-I don't think anybody's ever been in love with him, or him with anybody before, so he'd not know the right thing to do about it. It'd be just like him to hide away mementos and never say a word. I despair for him, I do. — Mary Ann Shaffer

It's only since it's been made impossible that it's been made so damn easy. It's got like prohibition, with bums and crooks making fortunes out of hooch, everyone who might have had a palate losing it, nobody caring how you hold your liquor, you've been smart enough if you get it at all. You can't make good wine in a bathtub in the cellar, you need sun and rain and fresh air, you need pride in a job you can tell the world about. Only you can live without drink if you have to, but you can't live without love. — Mary Renault

If I could ever be on a Missy Elliott record, I could then die. Missy Elliott, Mary J. Blige - I love hearing them interviewed, I love the way they talk about their art. They're very self-assured, they're funny, they're inviting. I love it. — Neko Case

Dachshunds have their own agenda and can be stubborn about seeing their plans through to completion. What Rosie lacked in consistency, she made up for in enthusiasm. Most of the time when I called her name, she sprinted back, her long ears cocked and flying like a little girl's pigtails. Each encounter was a glorious reunion, even if we'd been parted for only a minute or two. I had never felt so loved. — Mary Doria Russell

Ah yes.' Peter's tone was scornful. 'And they must always be paid before the poor tradesmen's bills, mustn't they?'
'They must indeed. They are debts of honour.'
'Oh, Mary.' He leant over and kissed me quickly. 'What a lot we'll have to argue about after we're married. — Jennifer Paynter

She knew all about love - that beautiful, exquisitely painful but precious journey. — Mary Hart Perry