我的文学网
句子首页
诗词古文
书籍摘抄
影视台词
名人名言
网络语录
用户原创
注册
登录
选择频道
文章
汉字
句子
诗词
人物
图书
词语
搜索
搜索结果
按时间
按热度
按评论
按分数
按支持量
Neither Here nor There: Travels in Europe
“I came from a place where
everyone
was friendly, where even funeral directors told you to have a nice day as you left to bury your grandmother – but I soon learned that everyone in Paris was [rude]. You would go into a bakery and be greeted by some vast slug-like creature with a look that told you you would never be friends. In halting French you would ask for a small loaf of bread. The woman would give you a long, cold stare and then put a dead beaver on the counter.
‘No, no,’ you would say, hands aflutter, ‘not a dead beaver. A loaf of
bread
.’
The slug-like creature would stare at you in patent disbelief, then turn to the other customers and address them in French at much too high a speed for you to follow, but the drift of which clearly was that this person here, this
American tourist
, had come in and asked for a dead beaver and she had given him a dead beaver and now he was saying that he didn’t want a dead beaver at all, he wanted a loaf of bread. The other customers would look at you as if you had just tried to fart in their handbags, and you would have no choice but to slink away and console yourself with the thought that in another four days you would be in Brussels and probably able to eat again.”
Paris
French People
“I told Chris [Farley] and the writers, "Look. Whatever you do, the one thing to remember is: don't start from the ending [of the "van down by the river" sketch]. Start from the beginning, so that you have somewhere to go." Almost every time Chris did that sketch after I left SNL, he started by breaking the table.
It just became one of those dangerous examples of becoming addicted to the big laugh. You become addicted as a performer to that big moment, and you ask yourself, Why am I not just doing my big thing that gets the big reaction? Why am I not just standing up there and doing that?”
Writing
Climax
Performance
Snl
Comedy Writing
Sketch Comedy
“I told Chris [Farley] and the writers, "Look. Whatever you do, the one thing to remember is: don't start from the ending [of the "van down by the river" sketch]. Start from the beginning, so that you have somewhere to go." Almost every time Chris did that sketch after I left SNL, he started by breaking the table.
I just became one of those dangerous examples of becoming addicted to the big laugh. You become addicted as a performer to that big moment, and you ask yourself, Why am I not just doing my big thing that gets the big reaction? Why am I not just standing up there and doing that?”
Writing
Climax
Acting
Performing
Snl
Comedy Writing
Sketch Comedy
This Crumbling Pageant
“You’d best pray it’s the Darkness that has driven you mad, boy, because if it’s not, you’ll pay for these bruises with some of your own!” He pinned the boy to the ground with one hand braced on a shoulder and continued, “I’m not going to hurt you. Just calm down and let’s see if we can relieve you.”
The boy relaxed, calming except for his heaving chest as he fought for air.
Robin’s mind raced through his options, coming up blank.
“Cat-mint…” the boy muttered. “Tincture of angelica. Blue chalcedony, jet, bronzite, amber—do you have any on you?”
“No,” Robin said, confused.
The boy moaned. “Trifolium, then. There’s bound to be trifolium…” The boy’s head fell back into the dirt.
“Trifolium? I don’t know…”
“Clover,” the boy ordered, scorn dripping from his voice. “I’m speaking of clover.”
Robin paced along the road looking for a clump of clover, unsure whether to laugh or snarl.
“Do you at least know your Greek sigils?” the boy muttered weakly. “The banishing sigil performed with clover…”
Greek, he thought resentfully rubbing his jaw. “I know sigils,” he said, amending silently, if I can remember the Greek ones from the schoolroom.
If he got the scamp past this spell of poisoning, he was going to thrash him. And where had he got into such Darkness in the first place?
Burroughs, Patricia. This Crumbling Pageant (The Fury Triad Book 1) (pp. 23-24). Story Spring Publishing, LLC. Kindle Edition.”
Dark Magic
Bluestocking Girl
Girl Masquerading As Boy
Honourbound
“Fate comes for you, no matter where you go.”
The Black Library
On Fate
Team Pursuit
“As she screams her words, she slaps me like the worldchampion surf lifesaver she is, with full hip rotation and follow-through. Magnificent core strength. Textbook technique. Open hand to cheekbone, cheek, and jaw. Nope, she couldn’t have hit me better. Ten out of ten, say the judges. The crowd cheers. Deuce, no make that game to Chelsea. The nose—that’s where I feel it. It’s just like at the beach when a dumping wave strikes with the power of Aquaman, causing salt water to dance, prance, and gurgle in and out of the nostrils. I feel the pressure of that slap like that wave is holding me down for seconds and seconds. I see this weird combination of circling stars. Under pressure such as this, my core values are wobbling. I could whack her right across the chops. I’m livid. That’s how I feel. In my eyes, she’s a piece of shit right at this point. A fake. A liar. A fucking pretender. I always knew she was hiding something. She was always too damn good to be true. That’s why she does so much for the community: because she’s rotten to the core. No. I fucking love her way more than I can cope with. Jerome Kremers, book 2, TEAM PURSUIT.”
Australian Sport
Longitude: The True Story of a Lone Genius Who Solved the Greatest Scientific Problem of His Time
“With his marine clocks, John Harrison tested the waters of space-time. He succeeded, against all odds, in using the fourth—temporal—dimension to link points on the three-dimensional globe. He wrested the world’s whereabouts from the stars, and locked the secret in a pocket watch.”
Longitude
Longitude Act
John Harrison
Marine Chronometer
Marine Clock
“My home is you. Wherever you are is where I belong, the only place I belong.”
New Adult
Contemporary Romance
Na
Aurora Rose Reynolds
How To Catch An Alpha
Catching Him
Citizens of Peace: Beyond the Savagery of Sovereignty
“Time is memory - where there is memory, there is time, where there is no memory, there is no time.”
Time
Psychology
Memory
Time Quotes
Neuropsychology
Brainy Quotes
Human Mind
Neuroscience
Pearls Of Wisdom
Human Memory
Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors
“From what I just heard, my greatest fault is that I dare to take pride in my work, in knowing I'm excellent at it." The brown paper crumpled tighter in her hands. "How is that snobbery?"
"Of course being excellent at your work and knowing it isn't snobbery. But believing that you are somehow unique in excelling at your work while looking down on what others do- that's the snobbish part. Especially given the life you were born into."
She paled at that. "I'm not going to apologize for the life I was born into. Which, by the way, I have never taken for granted or misused for one moment. Tell me, if I were a man, would you see my confidence in my work and my pride in where I come from as arrogance?"
"This gets better and better. As you pointed out, so disdainfully, I cook for a living. Nurturing people, nourishing them holds incredible meaning to me. You cannot pull the gender-role card on me. Plus, I have a vested interest in you being good at your work. My issue is with how you think it absolves you from treating those around you with consideration and respect. Cooking for a living is something I happen to be incredibly proud of."
"As you should be. You're amazing at it." That of all things made her voice crack. She threw a look of such longing at the two empty bowls on the table that despite his anger, pride swelled inside him.
It was followed by a sense of hypocrisy that he pushed away. "Yes, I am, and I don't appreciate when someone treats me like a servant for doing it.”
Prejudice
Arrogance
Snobbery
Pride In Work
Dj Caine
Trisha And Dj
Trisha Raje
Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors
“This might baffle you, but despite not being a
physician
, I do have some pride. Although most certainly not enough to withstand the kind of beating you're capable of dealing it. The kind of beating you've repeatedly dealt it from the first time we've met. You're right, I value honesty, so I'll tell you that I make it a practice not to find women who insult me at every opportunity attractive."
Color flooded her cheeks and traveled down her neck. Finally, she stepped away from him, too, and found the back of a chair to clutch. She looked entirely devastated. Had no one ever denied her anything? He hated the hurt in her eyes. But it was done now.
"How is telling you I'm attracted to you an insult?"
He pressed the back of his hand into his forehead. It made him feel like a drama queen in some sort of musical farce. Which this had to be. "Telling me how unworthy I am of your attraction, that's the insulting part. And, no, that's not all it is. Even if you hadn't told me at every opportunity how inferior to you I am... all I do is cook... every assumption you've made about me is insulting. Culinary school is definitely college. And Le Cordon Bleu is one of the most competitive institutions in the world. The fact that that's so wholly incomprehensible to you... that's the insulting part. And it wasn't thrown in my overly privileged lap either. I had to work my bottom off to make it in."
Ammaji had sold her dowry jewels to pay for his application, something her family would have thrown her out on the street for had they found out.
Trisha squared her shoulders, the devastation draining fast from her face, leaving behind the self-possession he was so much more used to. And the speed with which she gathered herself shook something inside him. "I might not do what you see as
important work
, but I work hard at being a decent human being, and I would need anyone I'm with to be that first and foremost. Even if I didn't find snobbery in general incredibly unattractive, I would never go anywhere near a person as self-absorbed and arrogant as you, Dr. Raje. I would have to be insane to subject myself to your view of me and the world."
"Wow." She was panting, or maybe it was him. He couldn't be sure.
"You wanted honesty. I'm sorry if I hurt you."
She cleared her throat. "I'm surprised you think someone as... as... self-absorbed and arrogant as me is even capable of being hurt.”
Prejudice
Hardworking
Truth Bomb
Insulting
Roasted
Dj Caine
Trisha And Dj
Trisha Raje
Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors
“A beast of a yellow Porsche stood to one side of the sweeping driveway. "You don't own that thing, do you?" Where was the adorable pink Beetle?
"No, I just stole it to drive you to the city in the style to which you're accustomed."
She turned around and glared at him. "Don't be tasteless. That's not what I meant.”
Dj Caine
Trisha And Dj
Trisha Raje
The Sunrise's Commandment
“In ourselves we carry echoes of every good or stupid ideas imparted in us, each in turn bouncing against each other and against us. The important thing is to recognize them for what they are and flush out the stupid ones into the abyss of insignificance where they belong; we are all capable of acting stupid, but the question is are we willing to continue to do so?”
Self Reliance
Self Improvement
Self Help
Self Realization
Behavior
Self Restraint
Responsibility Quotes
Behavioral Change
Conscience And Ethics
The Monsters We Deserve
“Orwell's vision of our terrible future was that world - the world in which books are banned or burned. Yet it is not the most terrifying world I can think of. I think instead of Huxley [...] I think of his Brave New World. His vision was the more terrible, especially now because it appears to be rapidly coming true, whereas the world of 1984 did not. What is Huxley's horrific vision? It is a world where there is no need for books to be banned, because no one can be bothered to read one.”
Books
Reading
Brave New World
1984
Banned Books
The Monsters We Deserve
Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors
“She didn't say it. But it was there in her eyes. Right there with that uncontainable arrogance when it came to her work. This was only about the surgery to her.
He thought about backing away, but he was sick of backing away from fights. So sick of it. "And doing your job well is sending her home where she can't be monitored, where she can't be treated? For what? To teach her a lesson? Put her in a corner until she comes around to where you need her to be? So you can prove your
skill
?"
She took a step back, but she didn't look away. "I don't need to prove my skill. But you seem to need to find someone to blame. Maybe you should try stepping up instead, and try finding a solution?"
Once again, was she bloody joking? He'd been stepping up and finding solutions for problems since he was twelve years old. Feeding his family, putting a roof over their heads. Real problems, not challenges he sought out to prove his skill. "I'm not blaming you for what's happened to Emma. Hell, I couldn't appreciate your
skill
more. But pardon me for wondering if this is about Emma at all for you, or if it's only about what you can accomplish."
A combination of emotions flashed in her strangely colored eyes; in the end, disbelief at being contradicted shone brightest. "Do you always judge people without knowing one damn thing about them? Or is it just me?"
He almost laughed. The woman had called him the hired help without giving it one thought and she thought he judged people? He turned around and looked at the idyllic white stucco home nestled into a a row of other idyllic homes, at the Tesla parked in the driveway, at the ease with which she had worn those rumpled scrubs at Ashna's and still looked like a bombshell. He wanted to ask her what the hardest thing she'd ever been through was, but he couldn't bring himself to. "I guess that would make two of us judging each other then, wouldn't it?"
Her cheeks colored. But this back-and-forth was useless. He wasn't here to bring down mighty egos.”
Hypocritical
Dj Caine
Trisha And Dj
Trisha Raje
Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors
“The good news was that he wasn't sixteen anymore and he had this, his art. His food. And if this dinner continued to go the way it was going, if Mrs. Raje stood by her word and gave DJ the contract for her son's fund-raising dinner next month based on tonight's success... well, then they'd be fine.
Mrs. Raje had been more impressed thus far. Everything from the steamed momos to the dum biryani had turned out just so. The mayor of San Francisco had even asked to speak to DJ after tasting the California blue crab with bitter coconut cream and tucked DJ's card into his wallet.
Only dessert remained, and dessert was DJ's crowning glory, his true love. With sugar he could make love to taste buds, make adult humans sob.
The reason Mina Raje had given him, a foreigner and a newbie, a shot at tonight was his Arabica bean gelato with dark caramel. DJ had created the dessert for her after spending a week researching her. Not just her favorite restaurants, but where she shopped, how she wore her clothes, what made her laugh, even the perfume she wore and how much. The taste buds drew from who you were. How you reacted to taste as a sense was a culmination of how you processed the world, the most primal form of how you interacted with your environment.
It was DJ's greatest strength and weakness, needing to know what exact note of flavor unfurled a person. His need to find that chord and strum it was bone deep.”
Favorites
Chef
Preferences
Dj Caine
Indian Cooking
“The world takes us nowhere, except within.”
Self Discover
“You may be lonely in St. Valentine’s Day, but you must know that love is like an air, it is everywhere! You shall find it in any day and anywhere!”
St Valentines Day
The Woman in White
“Some people call that picturesque' said Sir Percival, pointing over the wide prospect with his half-finished walking-stick. 'I call it a blot on a gentleman's property. In my great-grandfather's time, the lake flowed to this place. Look at it now! It is not four feet deep anywhere, and it is all puddles and pools. I wish I could afford to drain it, and plant it all over. My bailiff (a superstitious idiot) says he is quite sure the lake has a curse on it, like the Dead Sea. What do you think, Fosco? It looks just the place for a murder, doesn't it?'
'My good Percival!' remonstrated the Count. 'What is your solid English sense thinking of? The water is too shallow to hide the body; and there is sand everywhere to print off the murderer's footsteps. It is, upon the whole, the very worst place for a murder that I ever set my eyes on.”
Wilkie Collins
Count Fosco
The Woman In White
Sir Percival Glyde
The Woman in White
“The girl ginned again, more cheerfully than ever. 'Bless you, miss! Baxter's the keeper; and when he finds strange dogs hunting about, he takes and shoots 'em. It's keeper's dooty, miss. I think that dog will die. Here's where he's been shot, ain't it? That's Baxter's doings, that is. Baxter's doings, miss, and Baxter's dooty.'
It was almost wicked enough to wish that Baxter had shot the housemaid instead of the dog.”
Dog
Wilkie Collins
Marian Halcombe
Anne Catherick
Blackwater Park
Mrs Catherick
The Woman In White
The Zoya Factor
“Hey look,' he said, pointing out one particular 'devotee' on the surveillance monitor. 'Keep your eye on that one, I think he's maybe going to immolate himself!'
'Are you serious?' I gasped, morbidly bloodthirsty. 'Where, where, which one?'
'That one.' He pointed with the fly-swatter-cum-back-scratcher. 'Look! He's all worked up, he's in a religious frenzy, he's turned away from everybody, he's whipping out a bottle of kerosene...'
We watched the would-be immolator excitedly in silence.
'He's whipping out his pecker ...' I said in a flat voice. 'And he's pissing into the madhumalati.'
Zoravar sighed. 'They don't make devotees like they used to,' he said sadly, and tottered off.”
Humor
Zoya Solanki
Dead Toad Scrolls
“Can the act of narrative writing alter the writer’s mental alignment and will an honest chronicle and extended effort at seeking answers to a vexatious series of pending personal questions eventually place the author on an even keel? What other motive, good or evil, could possibly cause an essayist to write in such a torrid manner? With each line that I write, I beg to stop. The lines just keep tumbling out. Is there no end to this nightmarish experience of examination and reexamination? Is there no relief in sight to this modest attempt to form my storyline into an intelligible quest? Many days of writing go nowhere; blank pages replicate the blandness of life, whereas other days I sense progress towards an indiscernible and undefinable goal. If I write long enough, what will I finally discover gazing back at me?”
Memoir
Writers On Writing
Writing Process
Writers And Writing
Writers On Thinking
Self Transcendence
Memoir Writing
Writing Memoir
Narrative Writing
Dead Toad Scrolls
“A person desires more out of life than simply makeshift survival. How does a person live sensationally? Must we pursue pleasure wherever and however we can find it? Alternatively, must a person suppress or at least check some of their instinctive, beastly desires to forge a quality state of happiness? Arguably, a majority of people benefit when each person labors to control their personage. On the other hand, perchance the Ancient Romans were correct openly to embrace the notion that humankind’s base nature demands that all full-bodied persons act to satiate their rapacious lust. Perhaps various religious doctrines and philosophical grumps were correct to embrace an alternative creed that personal happiness and stable community relationships are dependent upon conditioning the masses to exercise self-discipline. Perhaps other thinkers who advocate living passionately devoted to achieving virtuous goals while resisting a path of debauchery present the most gallant argument how to live brilliantly in the face of absurdity. Perchance the test of any ethical code governing how we should live must begin by questioning whether living in accordance with the prescribed guidelines assist us achieve emotional equanimity? Does our lifestyle choice bring harmony to the mind and body? Does our personal protocol facilitate carefree immersion in daily affairs? Does our code of conduct allow us to transcend the impoverishment, corruption, and brutality of our times? Does our moral etiquette enable us to glean satisfaction in the commonplace acts of living carefully? Does our philosophical and ethical methodology allow us to strain the innermost contentment and joy from the purity of nature’s bounty?”
Happiness
Survival
Philosophy Of Life
Lifestyle
Meaningful Life
Personal Philosophy
Code Of Conduct
Personal Satisfaction
Where the Angels Lived
“Look at me. You are the first person to ask about him. Do you understand? No one has ever asked about this man, your relative, Richard. No one has called him down. No one ever printed out his name. You are responsible now. You must remember him in order to honor him.”
Fate
Remember
Holocaust
Legacy
Mission
Heritage
Jew
Yad Vashem
Where the Angels Lived
“Life without tears is like goulash without paprika.”
Life
Tears
Goodbye
Hungary
Goulash
共55569条
上一页
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
下一页
最后一页
热搜推荐
that
That
tion
Tion
Thin
Have
Thơ
very
Life
When
love
Ness
ally
them
people
Come
More
World
Real
Stan
Neve
less
Because
Though
Where
Ying
Itä
Right
Heart
Said