Note Book Quotes Novels & Stories

whether she'd find another excuse to talk to him. Her entire day had unknowingly revolved around a single person. She let out a quiet breath. How strange? Some of the happiest memories she had carried were also the ones that had broken her the most. Her fingers instinctively reached into her bag until they brushed against the rough cloth cover of the notebook. The old bookseller's words echoed gently in her mind. "Write about yourself." She wondered what he was doing now. Perhaps he was sitting behind the same wooden counter, reading another weathered novel while the scent of ginger tea drifted through the little shop.

The little sweetheart of a lady tottered down the aisle, faced the congregation, and said, "I outlived the buggers." Memorable Quotes "Scattered showers my ass!" Noah. "I have no problem with you talking to yourself as long as it doesn't turn into an argument" Woody Allen. "If at first you don't succeed try, try again. Then quit. There's no point being a damn fool about it." W.C.Fields. "The one thing that all porn stars have in common is a dread of filming the scenes that don't involve sex" Fanny Lightfoot (Porn Movie Director) "For every human problem, there is a solution that is simple, neat, and wrong." H. L. Mencken

Introduction: Twist of Fate CANDICE "It always seems impossible until it's done." This quotation from Nelson Mandela rang in my mind as I read the mail that the Admission Committee of Harvard has sent me. I was almost lost of breath, and everything was still wistful even after reading the letter for the nth time. It was as if being the Speedy Reader of the class when I was in preparatory school was not enough because I still couldn't completely digest what this letter contains for me.

I said. "Word for word," Celeste said. "Your mother had a gift for remembering conversations precisely. She always said the exact words mattered more than the general meaning." I reached out and touched the cover of the notebook carefully. Twenty four years old. Worn at the corners. The pages slightly yellowed. My mother had held this notebook. Had written in it knowing that what she was documenting might be the most important thing she ever did even if she never got to see it matter. "This changes the trial completely," I said quietly.

DAMSON •Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened. •We are reminded how short life really is, and how we are just passing through. •What we have once enjoyed deeply we can never lose. The seconds were turning into minutes, the minutes into hours and the hours into days. He groaned as he lifted himself from the chair he had previously been sitting on to make himself a cup of tea. He has been trying to come up with some quotes for his tribute but they all sounded shallow to him. He was running out of time and he still couldn't come up with anything. His eyebags were enough indication that he was not getting enough sleep and it was showing in his level of productivity.

I know that in a love like that… I’ll never feel like I’m not enough. The night crept on, wrapping the city in a silence that slowly became familiar. I remained seated by the window, letting the night breeze touch my cheek. Its sound was soft, like a whisper from nature, soothing me. There was no rush, no pressure to be strong or to smile. I picked up a notebook I hadn’t touched in ages. On the first page, my name was still written—Sienna—in ink that had begun to fade. Below it, a small quote I had written years ago: “Don’t forget, you deserve happiness too.”

The way you catalogued things you wanted to keep. He took out a pen. Turned to the back of the notebook. The last page. Blank. He wrote. Things I know at 28: He stopped. Looked at it. Then he wrote. 1. The people who choose you are worth more than the people who made you. 2. Carrying things alone doesn’t make you strong. It makes you alone. 3. Marcus was right. (He is frequently right and it is consistently inconvenient.) 4. Some things take 28 years to arrive. They still arrive.

Just to give them somewhere to go. He'd bought the notebook the same day. A Moleskine, black, the kind he'd used in college for lecture notes and never since. He'd written the first entry on the F train, coming home from the appointment: Things I have done that I am not proud of. The list had been longer than he'd expected. Longer than he'd wanted. He'd added to it over the following days, the items coming to him at odd moments—in the shower, at his desk, in the middle of the night when he woke and couldn't fall back asleep.

‘It’s all right to put on the weight of the world on your shoulders sometimes, if you know how to take it off.’ Quote by James Patterson. “Hey May, are you ready to go out tonight and party?” April glanced up from her book and grinned at her friend Trent, who had plonked down beside her. He gestured with his hand, miming drinking. May was the name she used at university.

Sometimes it came with it. The Notebook That night, Elara sat at her desk with her notebook open. She hadn’t written since the inquiry ended — too much noise inside her head, too many echoes she couldn’t untangle. But now, with the distant sound of rain guttering against the windows, she let the pen move. Today the city saw me. Not everyone believed. But they looked at me. They spoke my name without spitting it out. That’s new. That’s dangerous. That’s hope.