1936 Quotes

“A man convinced against his will
Is of the same opinion still”
― Dale Carnegie, How to Win Friends & Influence People

“How do they know what to do?" Mary Frances said. "To just rip into a building like that and expect it to stay standing."
"For the parts you want to stay standing," Tim said.
"Exactly."
"Practice," Al said. "And of course, one of them is in charge."
Mary Frances studied the tangle of men, all dressed alike, movingly easily together. "I can't tell them apart."
"Well, it's like war, I guess," Al said. "If you knew whom to blame, it'd be too easy to shoot him.”
― Ashley Warlick, The Arrangement

“Cuban-heeled stockings; not the sort of thing you could buy for another man's wife.”
― Ashley Warlick, The Arrangement

“But you've looked forward to this trip for so long."
"And now I won't have it to look forward to any longer.”
― Ashley Warlick, The Arrangement

“A woman may be as old as she feels, to herself,' she said, 'but to a man she is as old as she looks.”
― J. Jefferson Farjeon, Thirteen Guests

“The scythe went down the ranks, in cities and provinces, lopping the heads of the Party apparatuses, of intellectuals, activists. Nearly the entire Party Central Committee was killed; nearly the entire Soviet war council; nearly the entire Red Army command, starting with its head, Tukhachevsky; 35,000 officers; most Soviet ambassadors, almost the entire staffs of Pravda and Izvestia, most of the officials of the Cheka (including its head, Yagoda), most of the leaders of the Young Communist League . . . From late 1936 into 1939 the slaughter went on. The tortures and shootings that took place in the basement of the Lubyanka, headquarters of the security police, must have set a world record for one building.”
― Dan Levin, Stormy Petrel: The Life and Work of Maxim Gorky

“Every line of serious work that I have written since 1936 has been written, directly or indirectly, against totalitarianism and for democratic Socialism, as I understand it.”
― George Orwell

“I wonder if all the people who talk so glibly of time-traveling have understood what it means: namely, that past and future ages are just as real as the present. Else there would be no places to travel to. And then what keeps us from time-traveling? Only the human mind, the human consciousness, which is bound down to one tiny bit of time, the present moment. But if we could ever get outside the present moment, we would see the world in four dimensions, the fourth being time. We would see ourselves, stretching out in a continuous line from the cradle to the grave….”
― Fritz Leiber, The Dealings of Daniel Kesserich

“Foula was chosen in 1936 as the scene for Michael Powell's film The Edge of the World, which depicts the tragedy of such islands with their dwindling populations. Much amusement was caused when mainland newspapers showed banner headlines describing the 'desperate plight' of the cast, cut off by storm for three weeks on the island. To the inhabitants this was a very normal occurance.”
― Isobel Wylie Hutchison, Peak Beyond Peak: The Unpublished Scottish Journeys of Isobel Wylie Hutchison

“27 de dezembro [1936]

O presente mais lindo não é o mais caro, é o mais frágil – a caixa de cubos com os quais as mãozinhas inexpertas poderão formar um prado florido, dois cachorrinhos brincando, a galinha branca, orgulhosa dos pintainhos.

Há ainda a bola de sete cores como um arco-íris de borracha, a piorra cantadeira e o pelotão de chumbo pregado no papelão.

Paro um instante comovido – ah, a roda da vida, roda da vida rangente ou azeitada! Quando acordei, acordei general – trinta e seis soldadinhos me esperavam ao pé da cama, túnica azul, calça vermelha, baionetas em riste. As trincheiras foram abertas debaixo das begônias, as roseiras deixavam cair as pétalas sobre os heróis, todo o jardim sofreu com as batalhas delirantes, enquanto Madalena fazia comidinhas para a nova boneca e Emanuel folheava, no alpendre, o livro de gravuras de Rabier.

Deposito o último brinquedo com cuidado, não fosse despertá-las. Porejadas de suor, as crianças dormem. Na parede, como prego, dorme também o pernilongo, pesado de sangue que também é um pouco meu, apesar da incredulidade rancorosa de Mariquinhas.”
― Marques Rebelo, O Trapicheiro