Short Stories Quotes - Page 2

Remove the computer chipslodged in your brain before they convince youthat you’ve gone insane…Take a bite out of realityinstead of becominga reality byte.

Kitty Clairmont

The Grim Reaper isn't grim at all; he's a life-saver. He isn't grim because he isn't anything. . . . he is nothing. And nothing is a hell of a lot better than anything. So long, boys.

Jack Kerouac

I need to be a vampire," she said. "and I want one of them to make it happen. Michael will do fine. I don't care who turns me. The important thing is that if I change, I'll be a princess."I was wrong. She was really crazy.

Rachel Caine

What we are about to have here is a holy water smack down!

David Donaghe

But I want to assure you, if it’s your last day on earth, even after 2,000 years, I strongly suggest you go for the Versace leaf halter dress.

Richard Finney

I never sleep well when I'm on call.

Joshua Tuttle

It was as if my sould had left my body, floated up to the ceiling, and was watching me destroy my own career with one deliberately assaultive punch. (Dark City Lights)

Peter Hochstein

You can take the barbarian out of the tavern, but he can take the blood out of your body.

Greg X. Graves

If we're lucky, writer and reader alike, we'll finish the last line or two of a short story and then just sit for a minute, quietly. Ideally, we'll ponder what we've just written or read; maybe our hearts or intellects will have been moved off the peg just a little from where they were before. Our body temperature will have gone up, or down, by a degree. Then, breathing evenly and steadily once more, we'll collect ourselves, writers and readers alike, get up, "created of warm blood and nerves" as a Chekhov character puts it, and go on to the next thing: Life. Always life.

Raymond Carver

A novel is just a story that hasn't yet discovered a way to be brief.

George Saunders

I am a dash man and not a miler, and it is probable that I will never write a novel. So far the novels of this war have had too much of the strength, maturity and craftsmanship critics are looking for, and too little of the glorious imperfections which teeter and fall off the best minds. The men who have been in this war deserve some sort of trembling melody rendered without embarrassment or regret. I’ll watch for that book.

J.D. Salinger

Though this child came in with nothing but excess baby fat, chemical brain waves, and mother and son bodily toxins on his legs, he had a fate fit for a modern day demigod.

David Scheier

I am content when writing short stories.

Sarah Mazucci

A year earlier my parents had moved us out of the city to a split-level on Long Island, their idea of the American dream, which meant it as now an hour-and-a-half commute via the 7:06 Hicksville to Penn Station every morning. (Dark City Lights)

Jonathan Santlofer

I hated seeing these spasmodic upside-down chicken heads stretching to puncture my flesh. I imagined once that they reached my groin and pecked out my penis and my huevos and kept pecking until they got to my gut and my eyes and my brain, until I was just a pecked-out piece of human meat surrounded by thousands of nervous, dirty white chickens. I think that was about the time I fucked up a pair of chicken heads against a warehouse wall when no one was looking. Well, almost no one. Rueben was right behind me, and that's when he grinned his stupid grin. Maybe he hated the chickens as much as I did. Maybe he just knew que ya me iba también a la chingada. Maybe I was going on my first joy ride to hell and back, and it was fun to watch.

Sergio Troncoso

All stories are the sin of their weaver.

Miyuki Miyabe

So many people can now write competent stories that the short story is in danger of dying of competence.

Flannery O'Connor

On a far-flung parcel of government land situated somewhere in the vast reaches of parched American western desert sits an abandoned and long forgotten government facility known as Lost Cactus. That is what the shadowy agency ~ that operates there to this day ~ wants everyone from presidents on down to John Q. Public to believe.

John Hopkins

I hate that I got dealt shitty parents! I hate how you make me feel like scum! I hate that you’re always running away from me! And I hate that I ever fucking gave you the power to destroy me!

Adriana Law

You know, the world is all about balance. You lose something here... maybe somebody else picks it up over there.

Natasha Larry

Once when I asked you if you still loved your wife, you said, Love leaves the back door open. Later, you said, Love like a hospital gown opens at the back. And you slipped out.

Joan Connor

Death, is a beautiful conclusion to these short stories, that which we have so interestingly entitled, lives.

Kiar

Even if this spring the dappled leaves should shelter our minds from the moon's pale echo we would still remember how once they were sheltered by our skulls only from the day's sun and the night's stars and never from what we feared and what we remembered

Dan Davin

She had come to understand that American parenting was a juggling of anxieties, and that it came with having too much food: a sated belly gave Americans time to worry that their child might have a rare disease that they had just read about, made them think they had the right to protect their child from disappointment and want and failure. A sated belly gave Americans the luxury of praising themselves for being good parents, as if caring for one's child was the exception rather than the rule.

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Becky was a weed. Nobody ever wanted them taking over the bigger, prettier plants. People went to all extremes to make them go away. They sprayed poison, pulled until the roots gave way. They felt only like their garden was complete when every tendril was extirpated. This was how she felt from birth.

Ruth McLeod-Kearns

You can't kill an idea the way they try to. You can keep it down awhile, but sooner or later it'll come out. Now what you've got to understand is that the wheel's not evil. Never mind what the scared men all tell you. no discovery is good or evil until men make it that way." -The Wheel, John Wtndham

John Wyndham

Bentley is a good bee with a shaky sense of direction and an appetite for mayhem. Just don't call him a drone. He hates that.

John Hopkins

Lost Cactus is simply an urban myth.

John Hopkins

Will Cato's alien buddies come en masse and invade Earth? He's not sure but he'll try to keep humanity in the loop.

John Hopkins

Lost Cactus is a cornucopia of sights, sounds and inhabitants completely foreign to a little squirrel like Sammy, but attempting to set him straight will only complicate matters.

John Hopkins

Ty is green but never with envy. Best of all, he's usually available to help move a heavy piece of furniture.

John Hopkins

I live in different worlds. One world where I perform my duty as a part of society. My favorite is my world. The writing's world.

Ria Tumimomor

He'd wanted to mend her just like his mother had mended his favorite teddy bear when his arm had come loose after too much play. He offered her his pudding cup instead.

Brooke Warra

What your mind sees when you close your eyes marks the entrance to an endless universe: your imagination.

Stephen Helmes

The day had begun like any other ordinary day for Barnabas Crackle. That is to say, as extra-ordinarily as his days typically began, which were the usual for our faithful protagonist.

Brooke Warra

Hanging from every corner, above every window, standing on every shelf and tabletop, were dozens of handmade birdcages. Nomi had crafted them all, mostly out of old fishing twine, scraps of nets, and chicken wire. Woven in between the bars of the cages were bits of seashells, crab shells, pebbles, and driftwood she had scavenged along the beach. In a pinch she had made a few out of old clothes hangers she had scissored apart and woven together with strips of a negligee or shirt. Each one was personal, each one was unique, each one was a story

Brooke Warra

I been starin' at the back a Jimmy Nelson's head for four grades now and I been noticin' how his blond hair curls against the skin on his neck and the birthmark shaped like a half-moon I wanna press my fingernail into.

Brooke Warra

Spooky Twisties:All things Spooky, here beginThey lay and wait, in books within.They sometimes pass, in open space.Then leave and go, without a trace.Some appear on the spot.Some we know, others not.Sometimes we are afraid to say,“leave us now”, or beg to stay.At times they leave a sign beyond,A gentle breeze, or note from song.Be not afraid, to read story’s close.For in the dark, your spirit goes.

Terri Bertha

On the outside, I 'm a husband and a father to three sons. I end to keep quiet and stay to myself. That way I stay out of trouble as much as possible. Some people say I'm almost too quiet but it's like that saying goes, it's the quiet ones you have to watch out for...

Ron Chapman

It’s a case of mistaken identity. It’s one big mistake. You weren’t even in the country when it happened.”Maja in the short story 'Metro' by Steen Langstrup

Steen Langstrup

Just tell yourself they're only stories. Pamela K. Kinney (Spectre Nightmares and Visitations)

Pamela K. Kinney

A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser. It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong.

Edgar Allan Poe

She's as old as the hills, evil as a snake, all malevolence and magic and death.

Neil Gaiman

The short story, I should point out, is perforce a labor of love in today's literary world; there's precious little economic incentive to write one...

Lawrence Block

All his senses screamed in warning, the very air reeking of forbidden magic, but duty call him forward.

Karen Azinger

An optimist and a gentleman, I like that in my men.

Karen Azinger

It would be one hell of an addition to someone's scrapbook. (Dark City Lights)

Bill Bernico

I have this uncanny knack of falling for the most irrelevant men,my love story would be comprising of short stories.

Pushpa Rana

Why is it so hard? It's hard because it matters, I think.

Mina Holmes

She resents the chipped paint of the table and the dingy closet they call a dressing room. (Dark City Lights)

Annette Meyers

This town of churches and dreams; this town I thought I would lose myself in, with its backward ways and winding roads leading to nowhere; but, I found myself instead. -Magic in the Backyard (excerpt from American Honey)

Kellie Elmore

I held Angie Luna in that room for hours, and I remember the different times we made love like epochs in a civilization, each movement and every touch, apex upon abyss. In the luxury of our bed, we tried every position and every angle. I explored the curves on her body and delighted in seeing the freedom of her ecstasy. Her desperate whispers and pleas. I told her I loved her, and she said she loved me too. We lay in bed with our limbs entangled, in a pacific silence that reminded me of existing on a beach just for the sake of such an existence. I couldn't imagine the world ever becoming better, and for some strange reason the thought slipped into my head that I had suddenly grown to be an old man because I could only hope to repeat, but never improve on, a night like this. I finally took her home sometime when the interstate was empty, and the bridges seemed to lead to nowhere, for they were desolate too.

Sergio Troncoso

Poems are surmountable. They have rhymes and rhythms to help you make meaning. They're short enough. . . to read and reread until you've made some sense of them. Short stories are a different ballgame. You read them and understand the words completely. You know what happens in each sentence. You follow the dialogue and action. at the end, you know exactly what's happened. And also you have no idea.

Laurie Frankel

I'm looking for something new to believe in that isn't the way people yearn at night in the city.

Constance Renfrow

If the world explore all my dark fantasy, will change for the better”.

Alexandar Tomov

Quote from “FUTURE GONE”:“…I set the house on fire. It’s dark outside. The fire tears down the darkness. I turn my back to the place and leave, not knowing where. And suddenly I understand…All dreams are dead now”.

Alexandar Tomov

She pulls me further down. More trapped souls reach out to us, dressed in clothes from decades past. The girl ignores them as we descend along the timeline – decade by decade – towards the birth of the island.

Julie Koh

Never forget,' says Sugar Daddy, 'we are a nation built on sugar. It is our history and it is the source of our prosperity, now and in the future.'This is true. Our entire nation sits on reclaimed land made from sugar. Ours is an island that rose out of the sea, built on a hard core of toffee.

Julie Koh

Inside the room there sat a rocker, which she sat on, and which had rocked her while she sipped the beer, because in spite of herself she had become so giddy to have so quickly relieved her heart that she allowed herself to lean backwards while in the rocker, which had made it possible for the rocker to rock her, although it was not her intention to be so rocked. Also there stood an ironing board with a still hot iron on it that was burning a yellow shift, and there was, among several items that were not as noticeable to the woman, and yet were noticeable enough to at least bear mention, a fake man."I hope you don't mind me asking," said the woman who lived in the room, but then while in her chair she nodded off.

Justin Dobbs

Quote from “FUTURE GONE”: "…I wonder what actually this hospital is, why I am in it and who I am. I have no time to find out. I die, with my arms stretched towards the spotlights.Then whiteness.My body is still there somewhere…Buried in the extremely bright lights of empty hope".

Alexandar Tomov

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Short Stories Quotes - Page 2

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