Previous QuoteChris Cleave QuotesNext Quote

Image of the quote is loading... SaveSave I did not want to tell her what happened, but I had to now. I could not stop talking because now I had started my story, it wanted to be finished. We cannot choose where to start and stop. Our stories are the tellers of us. - Quote by Chris Cleave

I did not want to tell her what happened, but I had to now. I could not stop talking because now I had started my story, it wanted to be finished. We cannot choose where to start and stop. Our stories are the tellers of us.

Chris Cleave
Copy LinkCopy Link
Copy QuoteCopy Quote
Copy ImageCopy Image
Download Image of QuoteDownload Image

About The Quote

Related Authors

Related Topics

More Quotes From Chris Cleave

How well it had suited me, that absolute license to march up to evildoers and demand who, what, where, when and why?
Chris Cleave
Do those scars cover the whole of you, like the stars and the moons on your dess? I though that would be pretty too, and I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. "We must see all scars as beauty. OKay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on dying. A scar means, I survivied.
Chris Cleave
This life is a deafening roar but listen. You could hear a pin drop.
Chris Cleave
Before you bombed my boy Osama I always thought an explosion was such a quick thing but now I know better. The flash is over very fast but the fire catches hold inside you and the noise never stops…I live in an inferno where you could shiver with cold Osama. This life is a deafening roar but listen. You could hear a pin drop.
Chris Cleave
After the war of course it will be like the start of spring, which is always so brilliantly sudden. The leaves will burst back onto the trees and close the gaps between the branches and we shall be startled - shan't we? - s we are startled at the end of every winter. We shall think: oh, I had quite forgotten there were three livable seasons.
Chris Cleave
We were exiles from reality that summer. We were refugees from ourselves.
Chris Cleave
When you make a man ashamed, you make him dangerous.
Chris Cleave
...disaster, when it is quite sure of its own strength, will announce itself by hardly moving its lips...
Chris Cleave
Report Quote Report Quote Report Quote Submit Quote Submit Quote Submit Quote