Top Estha Quotes

Browse top 72 famous quotes and sayings about Estha by most favorite authors.

Favorite Estha Quotes

1. "White in the moon the long road lies,The moon stands blank above;White in the moon the long road liesThat leads me from my love.Still hangs the hedge without a gust,Still, still the shadows stay:My feet upon the moonlit dustPursue the ceaseless way.The world is round, so travellers tell,And straight through reach the track,Trudge on, trudge on, 'twill all be well,The way will guide one back.But ere the circle homeward hiesFar, far must it remove:White in the moon the long road liesThat leads me from my love."
Author: A.E. Housman
2. "In your hands winteris a book with cloud pagesthat snow pearls of love."
Author: Aberjhani
3. "Time to cash in your chipsput your ideas and beliefs on the table.See who has the bigger handyou or the Mystery that pervades you.Time to scrape the mind's shitoff your shoesundo the lacesthat hold your prison togetherand dangle your toes into emptiness.Once you've put everythingon the tableonce all of your currency is goneand your pockets are full of airall you've got left to gamble withis yourself.Go ahead, climb up onto the velvet topof the highest stakes table.Place yourself as the bet.Look God in the eyesand finallyfor once in your lifelose."
Author: Adyashanti
4. "And Iseult rose up where she sat apart,And with her sweet soul deepening her deep eyesCast the furs from her and subtle embroideriesThat wrapped her from the storming rain and spray,And shining like all April in one day,Hair, face, and throat dashed with the straying showers,She stood the first of all the whole world's flowers,And laughed on Tristram with her eyes, and said,"I too have heart then, I was not afraid."And answering some light courteous word of graceHe saw her clear face lighten on his faceUnwittingly, with unenamoured eyesFor the last time."
Author: Algernon Charles Swinburne
5. "I myself, from the very beginning,Seemed to myself like someone's dream or deliriumOr a reflection in someone else's mirror,Without flesh, without meaning, without a name.Already I knew the list of crimesThat I was destined to commit."
Author: Anna Akhmatova
6. "When Death, or adverse Fortune's ruthless gale,Tears our best hopes away, the wounded HeartExhausted, leans on all that can impartThe charm of Sympathy; her mutual wailHow soothing! never can her warm tears failTo balm our bleeding grief's severest smart;Nor wholly vain feign'd Pity's solemn art,Tho' we should penetrate her sable veil.Concern, e'en known to be assum'd, our painsRespecting, kinder welcome far acquiresThan cold Neglect, or Mirth that Grief profanes.Thus each faint Glow-worm of the Night conspires,Gleaming along the moss'd and darken'd lanes,To cheer the Gloom with her unreal fires."
Author: Anna Seward
7. "In those early amorphous years when memory had only just begun, when life was full of Beginnings and no Ends, and Everything was Forever, Esthappen and Rahel thought of themselves together as Me, and separately, individually, as We or Us. As though they were a rare breed of Siamese twins, physically separate, but with joint identities."
Author: Arundhati Roy
8. "Once the quietness arrived, it stayed and spread in Estha. It reached out of his head and enfolded him in its swampy arms. It rocked him to the rhythm of an ancient, fetal heartbeat. It sent its stealthy, suckered tentacles inching along the insides of his skull, hoovering the knolls and dells of his memory; dislodging old sentences, whisking them off the tip of his tongue. It stripped his thoughts of the words that described them and left them pared and naked. Unspeakable. Numb. And to an observer therefore, perhaps barely there. Slowly, over the years, Estha withdrew from the world. He grew accustomed to the uneasy octopus that lived inside him and squirted its inky tranquilizer on his past. Gradually the reason for his silence was hidden away, entombed somewhere deep in the soothing folds of the fact of it."
Author: Arundhati Roy
9. "I'm trained as an architect; writing is like architecture. In buildings, there are design motifs that occur again and again, that repeat -- patterns, curves. These motifs help us feel comfortable in a physical space. And the same works in writing, I've found. For me, the way words, punctuation and paragraphs fall on the page is important as well -- the graphic design of the language. That was why the words and thoughts of Estha and Rahel, the twins, were so playful on the page ... I was being creative with their design. Words were broken apart, and then sometimes fused together. "Later" became "Lay. Ter." "An owl" became "A Nowl." "Sour metal smell" became "sourmetal smell."Repetition I love, and used because it made me feel safe. Repeated words and phrases have a rocking feeling, like a lullaby. They help take away the shock of the plot -- death, lives destroyed or the horror of the settings -- a crazy, chaotic, emotional house, the sinister movie theater."
Author: Arundhati Roy
10. "Anyway, now she thinks of Estha and Rahel as Them, because, separately, the two of them are no longer what They were or ever thought They would be.Ever.Their lives have a size and a shape now. Estha has his and Rahel hers.Edges, Borders, Boundaries, Brinks and Limits have appeared like a team of trolls on their separate horizons. Short creatures with long shadows, patrolling the Blurry End. Gentle half-moons have gathered under their eyes and they are as old as Ammu was when she died."
Author: Arundhati Roy
11. "Et tu, Caesar? Then fall, Caesar.Et tu, Estha? Then fall, Estha."
Author: Arundhati Roy
12. "I was suddenly made aware of another world of beauty and mystery such as I had never imagined to exist, except in poetry. It was as though I had begun to see and smell and hear for the first time. The world appeared to me as Wordsworth describes with "the glory and freshness of a dream." The sight of a wild rosegrowing on a hedge, the scent of lime-tree blossoms caught suddenly as I rode down a hill on a bicycle, came to me like visitations from another world. But it was not only my sensesthat were awakened. I experienced an overwhelming emotionin the presence of nature, especially at evening. It began to have a kind of sacramental character for me. I approached it with a sense of almost religious awe and , in a hush that comes before sunset, I felt again the presence of an almost unfathomable mystery. The song of the birds, the shape of the trees, the colors of the sunset, were so many signs of the presence, which seemed to be drawing me to itself."
Author: Bede Griffiths
13. "I noticed early that pompous people have actually less a high opinion of themselvesthan a desire to create such an opinion in others."
Author: Ben Hecht
14. "…(my father) would say nothing,And I could not find a silenceAmong the one hundred Chinese silencesThat would fit the one he createdEven though I was the one Who had just made up the businessOf the one hundred Chinese silences-The Silence of the Night Boat. And the Silence of the Lotus, Cousin to the Silence of the Temple BellOnly deeper and softer…"
Author: Billy Collins
15. "In other languages,you are beautiful- mort, muerto- I wishI spoke moon, I wish the bottom of the oceanwere sitting in that chair playing cardsand noticing how famous you areon my cell phone- picture of your eyesguarding your nose and the fireyou set by walking, picture of dawngetting up early to enthrall your skin- what I hateabout stars is they're not those candlesthat make a joke of cake, that you blow onand they die and come back, and youyou're not those candles either, how often I realizeI'm not breathing, to be like youor just afraid to move at all, a lungor finger, is it time alreadyfor inventory, a mountain, I have threeof those, a bag of hair, box of ashes, if youwere a cigarette I'd be cancer, if youwere a leaf, you were a leaf, every leaf, as faras this tree can say."
Author: Bob Hicok
16. "To my son Dylan.I've written this book for you.It's a guide for how not to live your life.I'm sending it out into the world in the hopesthat someday it will find you.Even if I never do.All my love,Dad"
Author: Carolee Dean
17. "Godlike the man whosits at her side, whowatches and catchesthat laughterwhich (softly) tears meto tatters: nothing is left of me, each timeI see her..."
Author: Catullus
18. "Und das Leben ist nun einmal nichts weiter als eine Abfolge von Momenten, und Momente ändern sich ständig, genau wie unsere Gedanken, negative wie positive. Und obgleich es in der menschlichen Natur liegt, sie festhalten zu wollen, ist es - wie viele andere natürliche Dinge auch - vollkommen sinnlos. Es ist sinnlos, sich an einen Gedanken zu klammern, denn Gedanken sind wie Gäste oder Schönwetterfreunde. Sie kommen und gehen, und selbst diejenigen, die lange brauchen, um sich vollständig zu entwickeln, können im Handumdrehen wieder verschwinden. Momente sind kostbar; manchmal verweilen sie, manchmal sind sie flüchtig wie der Wind, und doch kann in einem einzigen Moment so viel geschehen. Mann kann seine Meinung ändern, man kann ein Leben retten - und man kann sich sogar verlieben."
Author: Cecelia Ahern
19. "First, anyone who seriously intends to become a philosophermust "once in his life" withdraw into himself and attempt,within himself, to overthrow and build anew all the sciencesthat, up to then, he has been accepting. Philosophy wisdom(sagesse) is the philosophizer's quite personal affair. It mustarise as His wisdom, as his self-acquired knowledge tendingtoward universality, a knowledge for which he can answer fromthe beginning, and at each step, by virtue of his own absoluteinsights."
Author: Edmund Husserl
20. "Unlike we are, unlike, O princely Heart!Unlike our uses and our destinies...Thou, bethink thee, artA guest for queens to social pageantries,With gages from a hundred brighter eyesThan tears even can make mine...What hast though to do With looking from the lattice-lights at me,A poor, tired, wandering singer..."
Author: Elizabeth Barrett Browning
21. "Poem to My Sex at Fifty-OneWhen I wash myself in the showerand afterward, as I am dryingwith the terrycloth towel,I love the feelof my vulva, the plump outer lipsand the neat inner onesthat fit together trimlyas hands in prayer. I liketo feel the slick crevice and the slightswelling that beginswith just this casual handling.So eager, willing as a puppy. When I was young I couldnot have imagined thisas I looked at women like me,my waist thickened like pudding,my rear end that once rode highas a kite, now hanging like asweater left out in the rain,skin drooping, not just the dewlapsor pennants that flutterunder the arms, but all over,loosening from the bone like boiledchicken. And it will onlyget worse. But that fleshyplum is always cheerful. And new.A taut globe shiningin an old fruit tree."
Author: Ellen Bass
22. "I think I was enchantedWhen first a sombre Girl —I read that Foreign Lady** —The Dark — felt beautiful —And whether it was noon at night —Or only Heaven — at Noon —For very Lunacy of LightI had not power to tell —The Bees — became as Butterflies —The Butterflies — as Swans —Approached — and spurned the narrow Grass —And just the meanest TunesThat Nature murmured to herselfTo keep herself in Cheer —I took for Giants — practisingTitanic Opera —The Days — to Mighty Metres stept —The Homeliest — adornedAs if unto a Jubilee'Twere suddenly confirmed —I could not have defined the change —Conversion of the MindLike Sanctifying in the Soul —Is witnessed — not explained —'Twas a Divine Insanity —The Danger to be SaneShould I again experience —'Tis Antidote to turn —To Tomes of solid Witchcraft —Magicians be asleep —But Magic — hath an ElementLike Deity — to keep —"
Author: Emily Dickinson
23. "I'm not a fool, I knew from the beginningwhat couldn't happen. What couldn't happendidn't. The enterprise is abandoned.But half our life is dreams, delirium, everything that underliesthat feedsthat keeps alive the illusion of sanity, semi-sanity, we allowothers to see. The half of me that feeds the restis in mourning. Mourns. Each time we mustmourn, we fear this is the final mourning, this timemourning never will lift."
Author: Frank Bidart
24. "Let thy chief terror be of thine own soul:There, 'mid the throng of hurrying desiresThat trample on the dead to seize their spoil,Lurks vengeance, footless, irresistibleAs exhalations laden with slow death,And o'er the fairest troop of captured joysBreathes pallid pestilence."
Author: George Eliot
25. "Has Westhaven taken to gossiping?""He has not, but like most men, you assume the only communications of significance pass between the males of the species."
Author: Grace Burrowes
26. "Sweet as the tender fragrance that survives,When martyred flowers breathe out their little lives,Sweet as a song that once consoled our pain,But never will be sung to us again,Is they remembrance. Now the hour of restHath come to thee. Sleep, darling: it is best."
Author: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
27. "Sit in reverie and watch the changing color of the wavesthat break upon the idle seashore of the mind."
Author: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
28. "Ja, man muß seinen Traum finden, dann wird der Weg leicht. Aber es gibt keinen immerwährenden Traum, jeden löst ein neuer ab, und keinen darf man festhalten wollen."
Author: Hermann Hesse
29. "Just Walking Around" What name do I have for you?Certainly there is no name for youIn the sense that the stars have namesThat somehow fit them. Just walking around,An object of curiosity to some,But you are too preoccupiedBy the secret smudge in the back of your soulTo say much and wander around,Smiling to yourself and others.It gets to be kind of lonelyBut at the same time off-putting.Counterproductive, as you realize once againThat the longest way is the most efficient way,The one that looped among islands, andYou always seemed to be traveling in a circle.And now that the end is nearThe segments of the trip swing open like an orange.There is light in there and mystery and food.Come see it.Come not for me but it.But if I am still there, grant that we may see each other."
Author: John Ashbery
30. "No sooner had I stepp'd into these pleasuresThan I began to think of rhymes and measures:The air that floated by me seem'd to say'Write! thou wilt never have a better day."
Author: John Keats
31. "Closer of lovely eyes to lovely dreams,Lover of loneliness, and wandering,Of upcast eye, and tender pondering!Thee must I praise above all other gloriesThat smile us on to tell delightful stories."
Author: John Keats
32. "To pray you open your whole selfTo sky, to earth, to sun, to moonTo one whole voice that is youAnd know there is moreThat you can't see, can't hearCan't know except in momentsSteadly growing, and in languagesThat aren't always sound but otherCircles of motion.Like eagle that Sunday morningOver Salt River. Circled in blue skyIn wind, swept our hearts cleanWith sacred wings.We see you, see ourselves and knowThat we must take the utmost careAnd kindness in all things.Breathe in, knowing we are made ofAll this, and breathe, knowingWe are truly blessed because weWere born, and die soon within aTrue circle of motion,Like eagle rounding out the morningInside us.We pray that it will be doneIn beauty.In beauty."
Author: Joy Harjo
33. "Sick of this StateOf that Stateless StatesThat moves at this rateThat Knocks at the GateAnd Yearns for the remains Of the brave new fate."
Author: Khalid Chaouch
34. "Bring me all of your dreams,You dreamer,Bring me all yourHeart melodiesThat I may wrap themIn a blue cloud-clothAway from the too-rough fingersOf the world."
Author: Langston Hughes
35. "I feel the flutteringof dragonflies—summer creaturesthat have no use for words."
Author: Larissa Nash
36. "On the beach, at dawn:Four small stones clearlyHugging each other.How many kinds of loveMight there be in the world,And how many formations might they makeAnd who am I everTo imagine I could knowSuch a marvelous business?When the sun brokeIt poured willingly its lightOver the stonesThat did not move, not at all,Just as, to its always generous term,It shed its light on me,My own body that loves, Equally, to hug another body."
Author: Mary Oliver
37. "Poetry and Poem in my opinionIs like relentlessly running onPick up lines and punch linesThat ends in Rhymes."
Author: Mr.Yoso
38. "Take from my palms, to soothe your heart,a little honey, a little sun,in obedience to Persephone's bees.You can't untie a boat that was never moored,nor hear a shadow in its furs,nor move through thick life without fear.For us, all that's left is kissestattered as the little beesthat die when they leave the hive.Deep in the transparent night they're still humming,at home in the dark wood on the mountain,in the mint and lungwort and the past.But lay to your heart my rough gift,this unlovely dry necklace of dead beesthat once made a sun out of honey."
Author: Osip Mandelstam
39. "Leaning into the afternoons I cast my sad netstowards your oceanic eyes.There in the highest blaze my solitude lengthens and flames,its arms turning like a drowning man's.I send out red signals across your absent eyesthat smell like the sea or the beach by a lighthouse.You keep only darkness, my distant female,from your regard sometimes the coast of dread emerges.Leaning into the afternoons I fling my sad netsto that sea that is thrashed by your oceanic eyes.The birds of night peck at the first starsthat flash like my soul when I love you.The night gallops on its shadowy mareshedding blue tassels over the land."
Author: Pablo Neruda
40. "His tired gaze - from passing endless bars -has turned into a vacant stare which nothing holds.to him there seem to be a thousand bars,and out beyond these bars exists no world.his supple gait, the smoothness of strong stridesthat gently turn in ever smaller circlesperform a dance of strength, centered deep withina will, stunned, but untamed, indomitable.but sometimes the curtains of his eyelids part,the pupils of his eyes dilate as imagesof past encounters enter while through his limbsa tension strains in silenceonly to cease to be, to die within his heart.[the panther]"
Author: Rainer Maria Rilke
41. "What were good and evil, really, but stupid categories? Stupid categoriesthat restricted people and punished or rewarded them based on how they responded to their own natures, natures they really didn't have any way to control."
Author: Richelle Mead
42. "The thought of youbeing with someone else isliterally killing me.And you couldn't care less. BecauseI am just one of the writhing bodiesthat ruined your bed sheets."
Author: Sade Andria Zabala
43. "Sure, we thought the acresThat we tilled were sacred,But how could we have knownThat wheat can haunt like ghosts"
Author: Sherman Alexie
44. "December stillness, teach me through your treesThat loom along the west, one with the land,The veiled evangel of your mysteries.While nightfall, sad and spacious, on the downDeepens, and dusk embues me where I stand,With grave diminishings of green and brown,Speak, roofless Nature, your instinctive words;And let me learn your secret from the sky,Following a flock of steadfast-journeying birdsIn lone remote migration beating by.December stillness, crossed by twilight roads,Teach me to travel far and bear my loads."
Author: Siegfried Sassoon
45. "And I flat out refuseto have one of those livesthat I wouldn't even wantto read about."
Author: Sonya Sones
46. "Some days I wake upand all I feelare the fracturesin the flesh that coversthe only meI've ever known.Some days,it's those exact fissuresthat let the lighthiding inside mepour outand coverin goldeveryonethat found enough beautyin the cracksto standclose."
Author: Tyler Knott Gregson
47. "The Scholars"Bald heads forgetful of their sins,Old, learned, respectable bald headsEdit and annotate the linesThat young men, tossing on their beds,Rhymed out in love's despairTo flatter beauty's ignorant ear.They'll cough in the ink to the world's end;Wear out the carpet with their shoesEarning respect; have no strange friend;If they have sinned nobody knows.Lord, what would they sayShould their Catullus walk that way?"
Author: W.B. Yeats
48. "She says, "But in contentment I still feelThe need for imperishable bliss."Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her,Alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreamsAnd our desires.Is there no change of death in paradise?Does ripe fruit never fall? or do the boughsHang always heavy in that perfect sky,Unchanging, yet so like our perishing earth,With rivers like our own that seek for seasThey never find, the same receding shoresThat never touch with inarticulate pang?"
Author: Wallace Stevens
49. "Put on what weary negligence you please,You and your fellows; I'll have it come to question:If he dislike it, let him to our sister,Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one,Not to be over-ruled. Idle old man,That still would manage those authoritiesThat he hath given away! Now, by my life,Old fools are babes again; and must be usedWith cheques as flatteries,--when they are seen abused.Remember what I tell you."
Author: William Shakespeare
50. "TIMON Commend me to them,And tell them that, to ease them of their griefs,Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses,Their pangs of love, with other incident throesThat nature's fragile vessel doth sustainIn life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them:I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath.First Senator I like this well; he will return again.TIMON I have a tree, which grows here in my close,That mine own use invites me to cut down,And shortly must I fell it: tell my friends,Tell Athens, in the sequence of degreeFrom high to low throughout, that whoso pleaseTo stop affliction, let him take his haste,Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe,And hang himself. I pray you, do my greeting."
Author: William Shakespeare

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Secrets can kill the innocent and enchant the guilty."
Author: Alexis Hurley

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