Lack of genius never held anyone back. Only time wasted on resentment and daydreaming can do that.
Facts are the soil from which the story grows. Imagination is a last resort. - Dorothy Dunnett
Facts are the soil from which the story grows. Imagination is a last resort.
- Dorothy Dunnett
Music, the knife without a hilt. - Dorothy Dunnett
Music, the knife without a hilt.
And the English army, wheeling, started south at a gallop over the hill pass into Ettrick, followed by twenty men and eight hundred sheep in steel he… - Dorothy Dunnett
And the English army, wheeling, started south at a gallop over the hill pass into Ettrick, followed by twenty men and eight hundred sheep in steel he…
Lack of genius never held anyone back. Only time wasted on resentment and daydreaming can do that. - Dorothy Dunnett
And habits are hell's own substitute for good intentions. Habits are the ruin of ambition, of initiative , of imagination. They're the curse of marri… - Dorothy Dunnett
And habits are hell's own substitute for good intentions. Habits are the ruin of ambition, of initiative , of imagination. They're the curse of marri…
My son took many years to learn the simple truth. You cannot love any one person adequately until you have made friends with the rest of the human ra… - Dorothy Dunnett
My son took many years to learn the simple truth. You cannot love any one person adequately until you have made friends with the rest of the human ra…
The coast's a jungle of Moors, Turks, Jews, renegades from all over Europe, sitting in palaces built from the sale of Christian slaves. There are twe… - Dorothy Dunnett
The coast's a jungle of Moors, Turks, Jews, renegades from all over Europe, sitting in palaces built from the sale of Christian slaves. There are twe…
Today,’ said Lymond, ‘if you must know, I don’t like living at all. But that’s just immaturity boggling at the sad face of failure. Tomorrow I’ll be … - Dorothy Dunnett
Today,’ said Lymond, ‘if you must know, I don’t like living at all. But that’s just immaturity boggling at the sad face of failure. Tomorrow I’ll be …
But I despised men who accepted their fate. I shaped mine twenty times and had it broken twenty times in my hands. - Dorothy Dunnett
But I despised men who accepted their fate. I shaped mine twenty times and had it broken twenty times in my hands.
Login to join the discussion
Login to join the discussion