Visitings Quotes & Sayings

When someone writes a book review, they obviously already self-identify as a writer. I mean, they are. They're writers, they're critics, and they're writing about a book about a writer who's a critic. So I think it's really hard for people to distance themselves from what they're criticizing. — Chuck Klosterman

Deuce groaned. "Ma, what sort of pie was that?" He was rubbing his stomach.
"Bitter cherry. Lucy Hopewel had one at the potluck a week back, and I thought I might try it. It wasn't good?"
"It was good, Ma," Ty said, voice flat.
"Where do you get bitter cherries?" Deuce asked.
"Disgruntled trees," Ty said. He looked over his shoulder with a smirk. — Abigail Roux

God, like all highest things, Hides light in shade, And in the night his visitings To sleep and dreams are clearliest made. — Arthur Symons

Great art makes of a cosmos one simple droplet, by which the world is slaked of a thirst it never knew it had.
Aldous Richards — A.H. Richards

Unsex me here and fill me from crown to toe full of direst cruelty That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose. Macbeth — William Shakespeare

Disease is the tax which the soul pays for the body, as the tenant pays house-rent for the use of the house. — Ramakrishna

Every song I write is autobiographical and is about people, and that's one of the things that gets complicated. You have to decide where's your place as a songwriter. — Halsey

Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts! Unsex me here,
And fill me from the crown to the toe top full
Of direst cruelty; make thick my blood,
Stop up the access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances
You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
Nor Heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry Hold, hold! — William Shakespeare

The church was stuffed with mourners, of course. No one from work - I tried to keep my life and my magazine separate - but otherwise everybody Andrew and I knew was there. It was disorientating, like having the entire contents of one's address book dressed in black and exported into pews in non alphabetical order. — Chris Cleave