Daresay Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
i-daresay-something-will-happen-between-now-91-to-make-your-fortunes-look-up-hilary-mantel
by-all-means-continue-destroying-my-possessions-i-daresay-i-have-too-many-jk-rowling
i-daresay-anything-can-be-made-holy-by-being-sincerely-worshipped-iris-murdoch
i-daresay-i-was-worst-bed-partner-in-five-continents
i-daresay-one-good-concert-justifies-a-week-of-satisfaction-at-home
i-daresay-one-profits-more-by-mistakes-one-makes-off-ones-own-bat-than-by-doing-right-thing-on-somebodys-else-advice-w-somerset-maugham
but-i-daresay-lass-cant-think-in-straight-line-wout-her-tea-sit-for-minute-the-laird-will-wait-patricia-strefling
ive-made-122-movies-i-daresay-theres-picture-mine-showing-somewhere-in-world-every-day
and-i-shall-find-some-girl-perhaps-and-a-better-one-than-you-with-eyes-as-wise-but-kindlier-and-lips-as-soft-but-true-and-i-daresay-she-will-do
miss-fitt-you-know-curiosity-gets-men-killed-i-grinned-then-i-daresay-its-good-im-woman-susan-dennard
are-you-really-going-to-see-lewis-one-few-people-its-worth-getting-excited-over-i-think-i-know-he-is-good-poet-i-daresay-he-never-heard-me-but-i-wish-you-would-tell-him-that-his-
jack-yes-but-said-yourself-that-severe-chill-was-not-hereditary-algernon-it-usent-to-be-i-know-but-i-daresay-it-is-now-science-is-always-making-wonderful-improvements-in-things-o
during-many-single-week-i-daresay-more-money-is-spent-in-new-york-upon-useless-evil-things-than-would-suffice-to-run-kingdom-denmark-for-year-h-l-mencken
mathematics-has-threefold-purpose-it-must-provide-instrument-for-study-nature-but-this-is-not-all-it-has-philosophical-purpose-i-daresay-henri-poincare
all-i-daresay-at-this-point-is-pray-on-it-pray-hard-then-wait-listen-for-gods-answer-ive-learned-in-my-years-living-not-to-be-impatient-for-answers-when-i-pray-they-dont-come-lic
deserves-it-i-daresay-he-does-many-that-live-deserve-death-and-some-that-die-deserve-life-can-you-give-it-to-them-then-do-not-be-too-eager-to-deal-out-death-in-judgement-for-even
but-suppose-it-was-truth-double-strong-it-were-no-truth-to-me-if-i-couldna-take-it-in-i-daresay-theres-truth-in-yon-latin-book-on-your-shelves-but-its-gibberish-no-truth-to-me-un
i-gather-were-old-friends-by-my-standards-i-daresay-you-measure-your-friends-by-years-you-have-known-them-but-youre-wrong-friendship-is-not-measured-in-years-amanda-hemingway
i-daresay-that-gradual-decomposition-scripture-its-dissolution-in-more-more-specialized-negative-criticism-is-result-its-alienation-from-eucharist-practically-from-church-herself
You behold in me, Stephen said with grim displeasure, a horrible example of free thought. He walked on, waiting to be spoken to, trailing his ashplant by his side. Its ferrule followed lightly on the path, squealing at his heels. My familiar, after me, calling, Steeeeeeeeeeeephen! A wavering line along the path. They will walk on it tonight, coming here in the dark. He wants that key. It is mine. I paid the rent. Now I eat his salt bread. Give him the key too. All. He will ask for it. That was in his eyes. -After all, Haines began... Stephen turned and saw that the cold gaze which had measured him was not all unkind. -After all, I should think you are able to free yourself. You are your own master, it seems to me. -I am a servant of two masters, Stephen said, an English and an Italian. -Italian? Haines said. A crazy queen, old and jealous. Kneel down before me. -And a third, Stephen said, there is who wants me for odd jobs. -Italian? Haines said again. What do you mean? -The imperial British state, Stephen answered, his colour rising, and the holy Roman catholic and apostolic church. -I can quite understand that, he said calmly. An Irishman must think like that, I daresay. We feel in England that we have treated you rather unfairly. It seems history is to blame. The proud potent titles clanged over Stephen's memory the triumph of their brazen bells: ET UNAM SANCTAM CATHOLICAM ET APOSTOLICAM ECCLESIAM: the slow growth and change of rite and dogma like his own rare thoughts, a chemistry of stars.

James Joyce
you-behold-in-me-stephen-said-with-grim-displeasure-horrible-example-free-thought-he-walked-on-waiting-to-be-spoken-to-trailing-his-ashplant-by-his-side-its-ferrule-followed-ligh
go-on-my-dear-urges-snake-take-one-hear-it-pluck-me-its-saying-that-big-shiny-red-one-pluck-me-pluck-me-now-pluck-me-hard-you-know-you-want-to-but-god-quotes-eve-putting-out-feel
IT is not impossible that among the English readers of this book there may be one who in 1915 and 1916 was in one of those trenches that were woven like a web among the ruins of Monchy-au-Bois. In that case he had opposite him at that time the 73rd Hanoverian Fusiliers, who wear as their distinctive badge a brassard with ' Gibraltar ' inscribed on it in gold, in memory of the defence of that fortress under General Elliot; for this, besides Waterloo, has its place in the regiment's history. At the time I refer to I was a nineteen-year-old lieutenant in command of a platoon, and my part of the line was easily recognizable from the English side by a row of tall shell-stripped trees that rose from the ruins of Monchy. My left flank was bounded by the sunken road leading to Berles-au-Bois, which was in the hands of the English ; my right was marked by a sap running out from our lines, one that helped us many a time to make our presence felt by means of bombs and rifle-grenades. I daresay this reader remembers, too, the white tom-cat, lamed in one foot by a stray bullet, who had his headquarters in No-man's-land. He used often to pay me a visit at night in my dugout. This creature, the sole living being that was on visiting terms with both sides, always made on me an impression of extreme mystery. This charm of mystery which lay over all that belonged to the other side, to that danger zone full of unseen figures, is one of the strongest impressions that the war has left with me. At that time, before the battle of the Somme, which opened a new chapter in the history of the war, the struggle had not taken on that grim and mathematical aspect which cast over its landscapes a deeper and deeper gloom. There was more rest for the soldier than in the later years when he was thrown into one murderous battle after another ; and so it is that many of those days come back to my memory now with a light on them that is almost peaceful.

Ernst Je¼nger
it-is-not-impossible-that-among-english-readers-this-book-there-may-be-one-who-in-1915-1916-was-in-one-those-trenches-that-were-woven-like-web-among-ruins-monchyaubois-in-that-ca
I will not mention the name (and what bits of it I happen to give here appear in decorous disguise) of that man, that Franco-Hungarian writer... I would rather not dwell upon him at all, but I cannot help it- he is surging up from under my pen. Today one does not hear much about him; and this is good, for it proves that I was right in resisting his evil spell, right in experiencing a creepy chill down my spine whenever this or that new book of his touched my hand. The fame of his likes circulates briskly but soon grows heavy and stale; and as for history it will limit his life story to the dash between two dates. Lean and arrogant, with some poisonous pun ever ready to fork out and quiver at you, and with a strange look of expectancy in his dull brown veiled eyes, this false wag had, I daresay, an irresistible effect on small rodents. Having mastered the art of verbal invention to perfection, he particularly prided himself on being a weaver of words, a title he valued higher than that of a writer; personally, I never could understand what was the good of thinking up books, of penning things that had not really happened in some way or other; and I remember once saying to him as I braved the mockery of his encouraging nods that, were I a writer, I should allow only my heart to have imagination, and for the rest rely upon memory, that long-drawn sunset shadow of one's personal truth. I had known his books before I knew him; a faint disgust was already replacing the aesthetic pleasure which I had suffered his first novel to give me. At the beginning of his career, it had been possible perhaps to distinguish some human landscape, some old garden, some dream- familiar disposition of trees through the stained glass of his prodigious prose... but with every new book the tints grew still more dense, the gules and purpure still more ominous; and today one can no longer see anything at all through that blazoned, ghastly rich glass, and it seems that were one to break it, nothing but a perfectly black void would face one's shivering soul. But how dangerous he was in his prime, what venom he squirted, with what whips he lashed when provoked! The tornado of his passing satire left a barren waste where felled oaks lay in a row, and the dust still twisted, and the unfortunate author of some adverse review, howling with pain, spun like a top in the dust.

Vladimir Nabokov
i-will-not-mention-name-what-bits-it-i-happen-to-give-here-appear-in-decorous-disguise-that-man-that-francohungarian-writer-i-would-rather-not-dwell-upon-him-at-all-but-i-cannot-
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