Towerish Quotes & Sayings

Terminological infelicities have a way of breeding conceptual confusion. — Donald Davidson

You know that if I were reincarnated, I'd want to come back a buzzard. Nothing hates him or envies him or wants him or needs him. He is never bothered or in danger, and he can eat anything. — William Faulkner

Ben was in his truck, window down, idling at the curb, dark lenses hiding his eyes from her, looking effortlessly big and badass.
The way she wished she felt. — Jill Shalvis

I don't understand why you're so obsessed with figuring out everything that happens here, like we have to unravel every mystery. — John Green

The masses have yet to realize that generating your own electricity is a potentially hazardous activity to engage in. — Steven Magee

She said, "What would you do if you left?" "I'm not sure. Get a doctorate maybe. I know some people who work in think tanks. I'd want to talk to them. Sound them out." She gave him a sour look. The term made her unhappy - think tank - and he didn't blame her. Passive, mild, middle-aged, ivory-towerish. People rustling papers in redoubts of social strategy. Situation reports, policy alternatives, statistical surveys. He — Don DeLillo

I've been tremendously lucky. I went through things that turned out wrong, and I got myself out of them. — Stephane Hessel

The only thing left worth saving is wilderness. — Edward Abbey

It's very different to have this kid that I'm truly responsible for. — Laura Lippman

This wasn't at all what I wanted to talk about, which is this: How did the rabbits get all covered with flowers?"
"Tell them it's a secret. Tell them they don't need to know."
"Exactly," said Anna. "You're right. That's the best thing you've said tonight. They don't need to know, and I don't want to know. So there! — Tove Jansson

It wasn't any one writer or article he was worried about, but the font. The meaning embedded, at a preconscious level, by the look of the magazine; the seal, as he described it, that the typography and layout put on dialectical thought. According to Perkus, to read the New Yorker was to find that you always already agreed, not with the New Yorker but, much more dismayingly, with yourself. I tried hard to understand. Apparently here was the paranoia Susan Eldred had warned me of: the New Yorker's font was controlling, perhaps attacking, Perkus Tooth's mind. To defend himself he frequently retyped their articles and printed them out in simple Courier, an attempt to dissolve the magazine's oppressive context. — Zadie Smith

If you try to give them a scheme, most hitters will rebel. — Tony La Russa