Talisham Quotes & Sayings

Stay safe. I want to see you again when all this is done. — Marie Lu

Life's waters flow from darkness, Search the darkness, don't run from it. — Rumi

A photograph permits a first viewing, and then an individual reflection. It solicits participation, and encourages individuality in interpretation. Television is an autarchy, a dictatorship. — Oliviero Toscani

After my baccalaureate, I signed up for acting lessons; there followed some inglorious years, during which I grew nastier and nastier and, as a consequence, more and more caustic; thanks to this, success finally arrived - on a scale that surprised me. — Michel Houellebecq

In world mythology, there are countless examples of tragic characters whose greatest strength is also the source of their undoing. But the ancient Greeks and Romans also held the view that acceptance is the beginning of wisdom. — Simon Van Booy

I am a homebody, something that lends itself to my profession. — Patrick DeWitt

Right and wrong can be like bloody snakes: so tangled that you can't tell which is which until you've shot them both, and then it's too late. — M. L. Stedman - The Light Between Oceans

The love of individual freedom has stood in the way of the appreciation of social obligations. — Goparaju Ramachandra Rao

No parent ought to punish a child except with a view to the child's good. And in order to do good to a child through his punishment, a parent must religiously refrain from punishing him while angry. — Henry Clay Trumbull

Of your friend, I can find no trace," said the man. "He seems to have been eaten by one of the thin hairless apes from the Okanti isles; all it does is screech at me. What became of the last leech to take a look at him?" "We left him in Talisham," said Jean. "I'm afraid my friend's attitude moved him to bring an early end to his own sea voyage." "Well, I might have done the same. I waive my fee, in profound sympathy. Keep your silver - you shall need it for wine. Or poison. — Scott Lynch

Dreamt by a Man in a Field

I am thinking of the dead
Who are still with us.
They are not like us, they are
Young and beautiful,
On their way in the rain
To meet their lovers.
On their way with their dark umbrellas,
Always laughing, so quick,
Like limbs flying back
In a boat before night,
So constant,
Like the glass floats
The fisherman use in Japan.
But for them there is no moon,
For us the same news
We do not receive. — Frank Stanford