Lorenz Hart (1895–1943) lyricist
Bewitched http://www.thepeaches.com/music/composers/rodgershart/Bewitched.htm (1940)
Hi!
Source: Rhymes and Verses: Collected Poems for Young People
Lorenz Hart (1895–1943) lyricist
Bewitched http://www.thepeaches.com/music/composers/rodgershart/Bewitched.htm (1940)
John Constable (1776–1837) English Romantic painter
Letter to Rev. John Fisher (3 November 1823), from John Constable's Correspondence, ed. R.B. Beckett (Ipswich, Suffolk Records Society, 1962-1970), part 6, pp. 142-143
1820s
David Foster Wallace book Infinite Jest
Source: Infinite Jest (1996)
Context: These worst mornings with cold floors and hot windows and merciless light—the soul’s certainty that the day will have to be not traversed but sort of climbed, vertically, and then that going to sleep again at the end of it will be like falling, again, off something tall and sheer.
“I think the slain care little if they sleep or rise again.”
trans. https://archive.org/stream/agamemnonofaesch015545mbp/agamemnonofaesch015545mbp#page/n38/mode/1up Gilbert Murray <br class="br">Oresteia (458 BC), Agamemnon
Daniel Negreanu (1974) Canadian poker player
“Kid Poker – Vegan Daniel Negeanu Dominates the Card Scene,” interview with Sophie Jackson of PokerListings.com, reported in VeganLifeMag.com (7 August 2016) https://www.veganlifemag.com/daniel-negeanu-vegan-poker/.
Morris West (1916–1999) Australian writer
Niccoló Tolentino in Ch. 1
Masterclass (1988)
“When you have been burned by fire once, you don't leap into the flames again.”
Jodi Picoult (1966) Author
Source: Between the Lines
“God's creatures who cried themselves to sleep stirred to cry again.”
Thomas Harris The Silence of the Lambs
Source: The Silence of the Lambs
“He stirred again, halfway between sleep and wakefulness, and he was not alone.”
Clifford D. Simak Highway of Eternity
Highway of Eternity (1986)
Context: He stirred again, halfway between sleep and wakefulness, and he was not alone. Across the fire from him sat, or seemed to sit, a man wrapped in some all-enveloping covering that might have been a cloak, wearing on his head a conical hat that dropped down so far it hid his face. Beside him sat the wolf — the wolf, for Boone was certain that it was the same wolf with which he'd found himself sitting nose to nose when he had wakened the night before. The wolf was smiling at him, and he had never known that a wolf could smile.
He stared at the hat. Who are you? What is this about?
He spoke in his mind, talking to himself, not really to the hat. He had not spoken aloud for fear of startling the wolf.
The Hat replied. It is about the brotherhood of life. Who I am is of no consequence. I am only here to act as an interpreter.
An interpreter for whom?
For the wolf and you.
But the wolf does not talk.
No, he does not talk. But he thinks. He is greatly pleased and puzzled.
Puzzled I can understand. But pleased?
He feels a sameness with you. He senses something in you that reminds him of himself. He puzzles what you are.
In time to come, said Boone, he will be one with us. He will become a dog.
If he knew that, said The Hat, it would not impress him. He thinks now to be one with you. An equal. A dog is not your equal...