Yoann Blanc Quotes & Sayings

I once asked him what came at the end of the sentence ... and he said "parole". — Bobby Heenan

From the warmth of her fondness for her horse she constructed a fragile and changeable thing that almost resembled courage. She hoped it would be enough. — Kristin Cashore

As for Vietnam, what matters is that Kennedy successfully resisted pressure to send anything more than military advisers, a stance that was a likely prelude to complete withdrawal from the conflict. There is solid evidence of his eagerness to end America's military role in that country's civil war. — Robert Dallek

Contradictions of perspective. Contrasts of light. Contrasts of form. Points of view impossible to achieve in drawing and painting. Foreshortenings with a strong distortion of the objects, with a crude handling of matter. Moments altogether new, never seen before compositions whose boldness outstrips the imagination of painters Then the creation of those instants which do not exist, contrived by means of photomontage. The negative transmits altogether new stimuli to the sentient mind and eye. — Alexander Rodchenko

There is more power in starting your story from a little concept that we call the Organizing Idea, an idea that is an active expression meant to inspire experiences, not a brand statement. — Gaston Legorburu

I was once in darkness, but now, I see a bright light on my path. — Lailah Gifty Akita

How did you lose it?" he asked. Lila frowned. "Lose what?" His weathered fingers drifted up beneath her chin. "Your eye. — V.E Schwab

The cord, a familiar voice said. Remember your lifeline, dummy!
Suddenly there was a tug in my lower back. The current pulled at me, but it wasn't carrying me away anymore. I imagined the string in my back keeping me tied to the shore.
"Hold on, Seaweed Brain." It was Annabeth's voice, much clearer now. "You're not getting away from me that easily."
The cord strengthened.
I could see Annabeth now- standing barefoot above me on the canoe lake pier. I'd fallen out of my canoe. That was it. She was reaching out her hand to haul me up, and she was trying not to laugh. She wore her orange camp T-shirt and jeans. Her hair was tucked up in her Yankees cap, which was strange because that should have made her invisible.
"You are such an idiot sometimes." She smiled. "Come on. Take my hand."
Memories came flooding back to me- sharper and more colorful. I stopped dissolving. My name was Percy Jackson. I reached up and took Annabeth's hand. — Rick Riordan

And, suddenly, I want to touch him. Not a push, or a shove, or even a friendly hug. I want to feel the creases in his skin, connect his freckles with invisible lines, brush my fingers across the inside of his wrist. — Stephanie Perkins

I think writers are the most narcissistic people. Well, I musn't say this, I like many of them, a great many of my friends are writers. — Sylvia Plath