Sherlene Dankmeyer > Sherlene's Quotes

“But when people talk about it they call it The Zombie Room.”
― R.D. Ronald, The Zombie Room

“Conservatism and passive acceptance... They can't think for themselves. Anything that's too complicated sends their heads reeling. Makes me want to puke.”
― Koushun Takami, Battle Royale

“I told her once I wasn't good at anything. She told me survival is a talent”
― Susanna Kaysen

“In the neuter austerity of that terrain all phenomena were bequeathed a strange equality and no one thing nor spider nor stone nor blade of grass could put forth claim to precedence. The very clarity of these articles belied their familiarity, for the eye predicates the whole on some feature or part and here was nothing more luminous than another and nothing more enshadowed and in the optical democracy of such landscapes all preference is made whimsical and a man and a rock become endowed with unguessed kinship.”
― Cormac McCarthy, Blood Meridian, or, the Evening Redness in the West

“Stay with me.’ His eyes shone. ‘Play with me.”
― Poppy Z. Brite, Exquisite Corpse

“The person I am in the company of my sisters has been entirely different from the person I am in the company of other people. Fearless, powerful, surprising, moved as I otherwise am only when I write.”
― Franz Kafka, Diaries, 1910-1923

“Our lips just trespassed on those inner labyrinths hidden deep within our ears, filled them with the private music of wicked words, hers in many languages, mine in the off color of my own tongue, until as our tones shifted, and our consonants spun and squealed, rattled faster, hesitated, raced harder, syllables soon melting with groans, or moans finding purchase in new words, or old words, or made-up words, until we gathered up our heat and refused to release it, enjoying too much the dark language we had suddenly stumbled upon, craved to, carved to, not a communication really but a channeling of our rumored desires, hers for all I know gone to Black Forests and wolves, mine banging back to a familiar form, that great revenant mystery I still could only hear the shape of, which in spite of our separate lusts and individual cries still continued to drive us deeper into stranger tones, our mutual desire to keep gripping the burn fueled by sound, hers screeching, mine – I didn’t hear mine – only hears, probably counter-pointing mine, a high-pitched cry, then a whisper dropping unexpectedly to practically a bark, a grunt, whatever, no sense any more, and suddenly no more curves either, just the straight away, some line crossed, where every fractured sound already spoken finally compacts into one long agonizing word, easily exceeding a hundred letters, even thunder, anticipating the inevitable letting go, when the heat is ultimately too much to bear, threatening to burn, scar, tear it all apart, yet tempting enough to hold onto for even one second more, to extend it all, if we can, as if by getting that much closer to the heat, that much more enveloped, would prove … - which when we did clutch, hold, postpone, did in fact prove too much after all, seconds too much, and impossible to refuse, so blowing all of everything apart, shivers and shakes and deep in her throat a thousand letters crashing in a long unmodulated fall, resonating deep within my cochlea and down the cochlear nerve, a last fit of fury describing in lasting detail the shape of things already come.
Too bad dark languages rarely survive.”
― Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves

“are women so much more ferocious in their violence?”
― Megan Abbott, Give Me Your Hand

“You're insane!"
"I won't argue that point.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles

“Around the outside of the room other beautiful women wearing little or nothing at all flitted between the infatuated, intoxicated men, sometimes luring them away for a private dance. The men would follow obediently, weighed down by lust and credit cards.”
― R.D. Ronald, The Zombie Room

“He felt the gun buck in his hand, saw his target fall forward, but he heard nothing. He was deaf.”
― Paul A. Barra, Strangers and Sojourners: A Big Percy Pletcher thriller

“The influence of Hinduism is all over the church and our lives beyond its stone walls: We wear saris and dhotis to church, light traditional lamps, apply sandalwood paste on our foreheads, and choose auspicious days to schedule important events. Our girls sport the round dots resembling Hollywood laser-sight spots on their foreheads, and every Christian in the south celebrates Diwali with the same fervor as any Hindu”
― Merlin Franco, Saint Richard Parker

“The need for intimacy with the Creator never left us; it was embedded in our very nature.”
― Ami Loper, Constant Companion: Your Practical Path to Real Interaction with God

“I’ll tell the Chief and he’ll squash you like the little flea-ridden castrated cock you are.”
― A.G. Russo, The Cases Nobody Wanted

“Why do you have such faith in me, Aurelia?" 
"I've told you a million times that I love you, you make me feel safe and cherished, and you care deeply for our people. Why wouldn't I have faith in you?”
― Therisa Peimer, Taming Flame

“Even though it's only a minority of men who are violent or predatory, I don't know if men realise that girls are trained our entire lives to minimise the danger from you - and blamed if we don't.”
― Sara Pascoe

“He assumed that Audun, who obviously knew whether or not he had murdered Holger, believed it was possible that Arvid’s nephew was guilty. There were two problems with this: first, of course, Raimund knew that the blood-soaked clothes came from the unsolved murder of a jeweller four years earlier, a crime that Arvid was guilty of. Secondly, Arvid had not seen the boy since that bloody night in 1505. Back then the boy had been ten years old; now he would be fourteen and probably more man than boy. Arvid wondered if he would recognise Raimund even if he saw him. Nonetheless, given the circumstances, he knew he had better be helpful, not least because he was somewhat scared of the huntsman.”
― Robert Reid, The Thief

“If I could believe in myself, why not give other improbabilities the benefit of the doubt?”
― David Sedaris, Holidays on Ice

“He knew the terrible tales of sea otters choking on polyethylene rings from beer six-packs; of swans and gulls strangled by nylon nets and fishing lines; of a green sea turtle in Hawaii dead with a pocket comb, a foot of nylon rope, and a toy truck wheel lodged in its gut. His personal worst”
― Alan Weisman, The World Without Us

“Maybe – let’s not rule it out – this will be the song that cuts clean, the one that matters, the one that sheds standard-issue romance and reveals, under its old skin, a raw blood-red devotion deeper than comfort, a desire profounder than schoolboy satisfaction, a yearning cold and immaculate and unstoppable as snow.”
― Michael Cunningham, The Snow Queen

“What if our understanding of ourselves were based not on static labels or stages but on our actions and our ability and our willingness to transform ourselves? What if we embraced the messy, evolving, surprising, out-of-control happening that is life and reckoned with its proximity and relationship to death? What if, instead of being afraid of even talking about death, we saw our lives in some ways as preparation for it? What if we were taught to ponder it and reflect on it and talk about it and enter it and rehearse it and try it on? What if our lives were precious only up to a point? What if we held them loosely and understood that there were no guarantees? So that when you got sick you weren’t a stage but in a process? And cancer, just like having your heart broken, or getting a new job, or going to school, were a teacher? What if, rather than being cast out and defined by some terminal category, you were identified as someone in the middle of a transformation that could deepen your soul, open your heart, and all the while—even if and particularly when you were dying—you would be supported by and be part of a community? And what if each of these things were what we were waiting for, moments of opening, of the deepening and the awakening of everyone around us? What if this were the point of our being here rather than acquiring and competing and consuming”
― Eve Ensler, In the Body of the World: A Memoir

“Attest:”
― Founding Fathers, The United States Constitution

“The mourner does not pity the dead . He pities himself for having lost the living .”
― Walter M. Miller Jr.