Quotes by Canadian Authors - Page 32

The greatest discovery of the 21st century will be the discovery that Man was not meant to live at the speed of light.
Marshall McLuhan
Well, that's not true. I need to work for a living.”“No, that's not true. You think you need to work like this because that's what you've been told. That is merely an idea put into your head. In actuality, you can walk away any time you want.
Dylan Callens
I've told you two things : First, you're much more insignificant than you ever imagined and second, the future is miserable. But you should be happy, because we may live in a universe without purpose but that means the purpose in our lives is the purpose we create. And we should consider ourselves fortunate to have evolved in this place in the middle of nowhere and evolved a consciousness so we can understand the universe from the earliest moments of the big bang to the far future. So instead of being depressed, you should enjoy your brief moment in the sun.
Lawrence M. Krauss
Oh what force on earth could be weaker than the feeble strength of one" like me remembering the way it could have been. Help me with this barricade. No surrender. No defeat. A spectre's haunting Albert Street. I am your pamphleteer.
John K. Samson
Rejoice, for bad things are about to happen.
Ryan Sohmer
A revolution is taking place within her, as though a lifetime's experience could be outdistanced in the span of a conversation.
A.S.A. Harrison
I surrender to the Monster. What pleasure at last to give way to the strongest force in oneself.
Barry Webster
My name,” I whispered in her ear, and she shivered with pleasure. “Say my name again. Not in anger, or disgust, but as you did just now. As if I am the only man in the world who can satisfy you.~Liam C.
J.J. McAvoy
...it's merely writing, but you have to adjust your ear – I speak quietly – I sob – I whisper...
John Geddes
...is the writer a prophet or priest - does he show the truth or serve the truth?...
John Geddes
...some writers closet themselves - I write wherever I am because that's where life is happening ...
John Geddes
...it's good to know wave and particle alpha code, but more than that, the writer must go to the heart of life ...
John Geddes
...if you want your own distinctive voice, you first have to become someone...
John Geddes
...my writing is a wild mustang - more thunderous than a lightning storm -and all my skill which I call art, is devoted to simply staying on...
John Geddes
...a deadline should not prevent you from writing, but writing will help prevent you from missing your deadline. Then write a word. Then remind yourself of that again. And then write another and hey, look at you! You’re spitting in that deadline’s eye.
Courtney Summers
If the passage absolutely demands cursing, be moderate. A little of it goes a long way. I've seen beginning writers pepper curse words through sentence after sentence.'If you don't -blanking- get your -blanking-blank-blank- in to this house this -blanking- minute, I'm going to -blank- your -blank- and nail it to the -blanking- door.'Two things happen when I read this junk: I get bored and I get angry. I didn't pick up your book to read garbage. If this is as clever as you can be, I don't want to read your prose. In life if you met someone who spoke like this, you'd want to flee. Then why put this stuff on the page?As near as I can determine, this abomination occurs because a writer is corrupted by the awful -blanking- dialog that movies inflict on us these days. It's also a sign of insecurity. The writer wonders if the dialog is strong enough and decides a lot of -blanking-blank- will do the trick.Someone might object that this kind of dialog is realistic in certain situations--intense scenes involving policemen or soldiers for example. I can only reply that in my research I spend considerable time with policemen and soldiers. Few of them curse any more than a normal person would. This garbage isn't realistic. It merely draws attention to itself and holds back the story. Use it sparingly.
David Morrell
Make time to write every day. The writing muscle is like any other muscle; the more you exercise it, the stronger it becomes.
Judy Penz Sheluk
I shall be as brief as I can, for it is not by piling up detail that I hope to achieve my picture, but by putting the emphasis where I think it belongs.
Robertson Davies
Don’t expect the puppets of your mind to become the people of your story. If they are not realities in your own mind, there is no mysterious alchemy in ink and paper that will turn wooden figures into flesh and blood.
Leslie Gordon Barnard
Ten good lines out of four hundred, Emily—comparatively good, that is—and all the rest balderdash—balderdash, Emily.""I—suppose so," said Emily faintly.Her eyes brimmed with tears—her lips quivered. She could not help it. Pride was hopelessly submerged in the bitterness of her disappointment. She felt exactly like a candle that somebody had blown out."What are you crying for? demanded Mr. Carpenter.Emily blinked away tears and tried to laugh."I—I'm sorry—you think it's no good—" she said.Mr. Carpenter gave the desk a mighty thump."No good! Didn't I tell you there were ten good lines? Jade, for ten righteous men Sodom had been spared.""Do you mean—that—after all—" The candle was being relighted again."Of course, I mean. If at thirteen you can write ten good lines, at twenty you'll write ten times ten—if the gods are kind. Stop messing over months, though—and don't imagine you're a genius, either, if you have written ten decent lines. I think there's something trying to speak through you—but you'll have to make yourself a fit instrument for it. You've got to work hard and sacrifice—by gad, girl, you've chosen a jealous goddess. And she never lets her votaries go—not even when she shuts her ears forever to their plea.
L.M. Montgomery
The only way to the top is killing and greed. Okay, I’m kidding. But killing helps.
Douglas Coupland
Son, let me tell you a little something about the environment… you can try to fix it up all you want, but it’s a waste of time. Sooner or later we’ll all be doomed… slaughtered by terrorists, baked in the heat of the sun, nuked until our shadows glow… greed is good. We don’t exist to help other people, we exist to grow the hell up, have kids, get old and die, while consuming all we can. Nothing comes after. There’s no wrath, no day of reckoning… we just go. POOF! We have no reason to aspire to change the world, son. We’ll thrive by feeding off of whatever’s available. How else do you think we ended up rich? You don’t get ahead by being nice, Thomas.
Rebecca McNutt
At every turn, while he was investigating the background for his study of Thomas Nashe, he would encounter the Church — what Chesterton called (another book title) The Thing. It was everywhere. At one point, he later told me (and he was never very specific just when that point occurred), he decided that the thing had to be sorted out or he couldn't rest. Either it ws true, or it wasn't. Either the entire matter was true, all of it, exactly as the Church claimed, or it was the biggest hoax ever perpetrated on a gullible mankind. With that choice clearly delineated, he set out to find which was the case. What came next was not more study, but testing.The matter had to be tested — on its own terms: that is, by prayer. He told me that the principal prayer that he used was not some long or complex formula, but simply, "Lord, please, send me a sign." He reported that, almost immediately, not one but a deluge of signs arrived. And they continued to arrive unabated for a long time. As to just what the signs consisted in and what happened next, well, some things must remain private. The reader may deduce the rest from the fact of his conversion. ...-- Eric McLuhan, introduction
Marshall McLuhan
I never came into the church as a person who was being taught. I came in on my knees. That is the only way in. When people start praying they need truths; that’s all. You don’t come into the Church by ideas and concepts, and you cannot leave by mere disagreement. It has to be a loss of faith, a loss of participation. You can tell when people leave the Church: they have quit praying.Actively relating to the Church's prayer and sacraments is not done through ideas. Any Catholic today who has an intellectual disagreement with the Church has an illusion. You cannot have an intellectual disagreement with the Church: that's meaningless. The Church is not an intellectual institution. It is a superhuman institution.
Marshall McLuhan
I barrel into his arms, my mouth connecting with his. Seizing him. Feeling him. Loving him.
K.A. Tucker
What the hell do I have to do to get your attention? Do I need to get up there?” I throw an arm toward the stage. His eyes swell for just a second, in shock. He reaches forward to hold my hands, but he catches himself in time and instead folds them across his chest. “Believe me, you have my full attention.
K.A. Tucker
And then he asked me how I felt about you.”Now I put real effort into wrestling out of his choke hold, eventually succeeding. I pull back and stare at Shane, horrified. “He didn’t.”“He did.” His expression is carefully blank, dark eyes fathomless.“And…you said…”“I said…”“That you’re in awe of me?”“Uh-huh.”“That you admire my work ethic?”“Yep.”“And envy my wicked sense of humor?”“No.”“My fabulous legs?”“Meh.”“You lie!
Julianna Keyes
Elise?" He looked at her with a pleading, puppy-dog expression in his eyes."Yes?""I love you.
Nicky Charles
...leaning down for a quick peck on Jeff's lips, and then he starts squirming and rearranging and manhandling until somehow they end up with Dan in the middle, Jeff stretched out on his left side, Evan on his right. Dan isn't really sure how that happened, and he's not at all confident that it's a good idea.
Kate Sherwood
My dearest Mary,Both my words and my conduct at our last meeting were ungentlemanly - born of haste and high emotion, rather than friendship and good judgement - and yet I cannot find it within me to apologize. I am glad I kissed you; glad to have revelled in your scent, your taste, the touch of your hands; glad, even, to have quarrelled with you because during those moments of anger, I was in your presence.Mary, you are the most singular woman I know: intelligent, brave and honest, and I crave your friendship. I confess to only the haziest notion of what I ask, having never been friends with a woman before. My friendships are male and conventional; pleasant and without distinction. But a friendship with you would be a bright, new, rare thing - if you would do me the honour.I expect that what I ask is impossible. But it is sweet to dream, Mary, and thus I tender one last, insolent, unapologetic request: write to me only if you can say yes.Yours,James
Y.S. Lee
You're my rain, Eric. You've been keeping me safe before I even knew you.
Melyssa Winchester
Coach told me once, when I was too busy screwing around to pay attention that the only way he could get through to me, make me hear him was to spell everything out. I wanted you to hear me.
Melyssa Winchester
Because I don’t want to give you any reason to be mad at me. I don’t want to give you a reason to hate me because, as much as I might have have begged you to do that, you’re the single most important thing in the world to me, Charlie Chase. You’ve become my world. And how do I live in a world where you don’t exist?
Nicole Williams
There are two ways to taste things in life: the sweet way and the bitter way.
Rawi Hage
Any time I get to spend with you alone, away from school and the pressures of classes and stuff I’ve gotta do, is you spoiling me. Seriously, Mikey. All I need is you.
Melyssa Winchester
Let's make beautiful music together, Emery Carmichael.
Melyssa Winchester
My fourteen-year-old sister Lara is a brat. Unfortunately, no one sees it but me. To everyone else, she’s adorable. She’s tiny and blonde and sweet and as helpless as a kitten. Chloe reminded me of Lara, at first. The difference, as I discovered, is that Chloe really is as sweet as she seems and she isn’t as helpless as she looks.
Kelley Armstrong
Well, it’s too late. I’m already attached. And you won’t know if it will last unless you really, really try, right?”“What is that supposed to mean?”“Well, Charlie said I could live with them. And you too. She really likes you. She said she’s never had a mother, and she asked me if I would mind sharing mine. I told her I wouldn’t if she didn’t mind sharing her father.
Lacey Silks
You must never leave me Sweetness. I will never leave you.
Jen Wylie
Sweet is highly overrated." So is responsible, loyal, and every other adjective you'd find scrawled in my yearbook.
Jeanne Ryan
The Janus Guard will also be out that night,” he said, one hand reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “Just as we have been and will be for every night of the Nine.”“Good.”“Speaking of which—Kelley…” Sonny seemed suddenly exhausted. He turned his face to the west, and she could see the fatigue etched into the lines and planes of his face. “It’s getting late. You need to leave the park. Please. Don’t argue with me this time. Just go. The sun will set soon, and I have to go to work.”He squared his shoulders as though he expected her to put up a fight. She did—a little—but only out of actual concern for him. “Shouldn’t you be taking it easy? I mean, you try to hide it with the whole tough-guy-swagger thing and all, but I saw the bandages. You’re really hurt. Aren’t you?”“It’s not so bad.”“Wow. You are a terrible liar.”He frowned fiercely at her.“You also look like you haven’t slept in a week.” She took a tentative step toward him and put a hand on his chest, looking up into his silver-gray eyes. He put his hand over the top of hers, and she could feel the rhythm of his heart beating under her palm, through his shirt and the bandages.“I’m fine.”“Are you sure?”With his other hand, Sonny reached up and brushed a stray auburn curl out of her eyes.“I’m sure.”He smiled down at her, and she felt her insides melt a little. His whole face changed when he smiled. It was like the sun coming out.“But,” he continued, “I’ll be even better if you are safe at home and I don’t have to worry about you for tonight.”“I can take care of myself, Sonny Flannery,” she bristled, halfheartedly.“Please?” He turned up the wattage on his smile.“I…okay.” She felt her own lips turn up in a shy, answering smile. “I’ll be good. This once.”“That’s my girl.”Kelley was silent. Those three words of Sonny’s had managed to render her utterly speechless.
Lesley Livingston
Nothing is more difficult than to understand the dead, I've found; but nothing is more dangerous than to ignore them.
Margaret Atwood
There’s no getting better, Storm. This is it.” There’s no coming back from the dead.
K.A. Tucker
The mist enveloped her form. She was lifted into it, then instantly dropped. Swiftly, the mist retreated to the window.It was gone. The old woman lay flat on her back, eyes open and staring; her mouth open, too, unprettily.That was the over-all effect - the utter lack of anything beautiful.("The Witch")
A.E. van Vogt
But tears don't bring back the dead. I learned that.
Moira Young
What’s the difference between being dead, and just not knowing you’re alive?
Peter Watts
Darlin’, you can’t tell me your ex wasn’t adventurous and not expect me to see it as a challenge.
Leah Braemel
Oh God, I’ve unleashed a monster, haven’t I?”“Nope. Just a red-blooded man, darlin’.
Leah Braemel
There weren't any promises of a future life together, either, but he didn't need to live like a monk anymore. Two years was more than enough time for soul-searching and penance. As long as Laney was close enough to touch, to breath in, to taste like his goddamn last meal, he would take whatever she offered and not ask any questions about what it might cost him when she inevitably left.
Zoe York
She'd just had the best sex of her life, with an ex-boyfriend she'd spent the last decade pretending didn't exist, in his adorable half-finished, renovating-by-himself one room schoolhouse. Unsettled wouldn't even begin to describe how Laney should be feeling, and it didn't matter, because how she actually felt was pretty damn good.
Zoe York
Her body didn’t give a damn that he was all wrong for her, it wanted him anyway. Badly. Either oblivious of or not wanting to encourage the attraction between them, Wade looked down at his mug as though he wasn’t comfortable holding her gaze at such close range, and took a sip. As he swallowed, one side of his mouth curved up and he let out an appreciative groan that seemed to reverberate right through her, heating her blood. Startled, she drank in the almost dreamy expression on his angular face and imagined that same look right after he’d enjoyed an intensely satisfying orgasm. Erin couldn’t be positive, but if his reaction to a simple cup of coffee made him groan like that, she was pretty sure it had been a while since he’d had one of those, too. And man, the idea of being the one to end his dry spell was way too freaking hot for her own good.
Kaylea Cross
I got your flowers. They’re beautiful, thank you.” A gorgeous riot of Gerber daisies and lilies in a rainbow of reds, pinks, yellows and oranges. “Welcome. Bet Duncan loved sending one of his guys out to pick them up for me.” She could hear the smile in his voice, imagined the devilish twinkle in his eyes. “Oh, he did. Said it’s probably the first time in the history of WITSEC that a U.S. Marshal delivered flowers to one of their witnesses.” A low chuckle. “Well, this was a special circumstance, so they helped me out.” “I loved the card you sent with them the best though.” Proud of you. Give ‘em hell tomorrow. He’d signed it Nathan rather than Nate, which had made her smile. “I had no idea you were romantic,” she continued. “All these interesting things I’m learning about you.” She hadn’t been able to wipe the silly smile off her face after one of the security team members had knocked on her door and handed them to her with a goofy smile and a, “special delivery”. “Baby, you haven’t seen anything yet. When the trial’s done you’re gonna get all the romance you can handle, and then some.” “Really?” Now that was something for a girl to look forward to, and it sure as hell did the trick in taking her mind off her worries. “Well I’m all intrigued, because it’s been forever since I was romanced. What do you have in mind? Candlelit dinners? Going to the movies? Long walks? Lazy afternoon picnics?” “Not gonna give away my hand this early on, but I’ll take those into consideration.” “And what’s the key to your heart, by the way? I mean, other than the thing I did to you this morning.” “What thing is that? Refresh my memory,” he said, a teasing note in his voice. She smiled, enjoying the light banter. It felt good to let her worry about tomorrow go and focus on what she had to look forward to when this was all done. Being with him again, seeing her family, getting back to her life. A life that would hopefully include Nathan in a romantic capacity. “Waking you up with my mouth.” He gave a low groan. “I loved every second of it. But think simpler.” Simpler than sex? For a guy like him? “Food, then. I bet you’re a sucker for a home-cooked meal. Am I right?” He chuckled. “That works too, but it’s still not the key.” “Then what?” “You.” She blinked, her heart squeezing at the conviction behind his answer. “Me?” “Yeah, just you. And maybe bacon,” he added, a smile in his voice. He was so freaking adorable. “So you’re saying if I made and served you a BLT, you’d be putty in my hands?” Seemed hard to imagine, but okay. A masculine rumble filled her ears. “God, yeah.” She couldn’t help the sappy smile that spread across her face. “Wow, you are easy. And I can definitely arrange that.” “I can hardly wait. Will you serve it to me naked? Or maybe wearing just a frilly little apron and heels?” She smothered a laugh, but a clear image of her doing just that popped into her head, serving him the sandwich in that sexy outfit while watching his eyes go all heated. “Depends on how good you are.” “Oh, baby, I’ll be so good to you, you have no idea.
Kaylea Cross
She looked at his outstretched hand, seeing it for what it was. A challenge. An invitation. A promise. They could never be just a "fling." A fling was something you didn't put your heart into.
J.K. Coi
He liked confidence in a woman. And intelligence. And apparently he liked sass, all wrapped up in a straight-laced, tight-lipped bodyguard.
J.K. Coi
He was struck dumb by her brilliant blue eyes. Eyes that could drag a man out of the darkest hole and into the light.
J.K. Coi
Jack, please,” she whispered, even though she had no idea what it is she was begging for.“You want sex, I’ll give you sex.” His low, deep voice embodied control, and did the strangest things to her body. “But before I put my cock inside you, I want to touch and taste every inch of you.
Cathryn Fox
His eyes darkened as they moved from her face, to her breasts, to the tingling spot between her legs.She writhed beneath him, and he fell over her. “You want this?” he asked, his voice rumbling against the shell of her ear.Her entire body throbbed. “Yes.”“You want my mouth on you?”Heat flooded her, and her dry throat made it almost impossible to answer. “I do.” Oh God, she did. She really did.“Where?”“Everywhere,” she whispered.
Cathryn Fox
But in life, a tragedy is not one long scream. It includes everything that led up to it. Hour after trivial hour, day after day, year after year, and then the sudden moment: the knife stab, the shell burst, the plummet of the car from a bridge.
Margaret Atwood
Blessed be they whose lives do not taste of evilbut if some god shakes your houseruin arrivesruin does not leaveit comes tolling over the generationsit comes rolling the black night salt up from the ocean floorand all your thrashed coasts groan
Anne Carson
The quotation falsely attributed to Stalin, 'One death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic,' gets the numbers wrong but captures a real fact about human psychology. (p. 220)
Steven Pinker