Quotes on Scrap

The great advantage of being a writer is that you can spy on people. You're there, listening to every word, but part of you is observing. Everything is useful to a writer, you see - every scrap, even the longest and most boring of luncheon parties.

SCRAP-BOOK, n. A book that is commonly edited by a fool. Many persons of some small distinction compile scrap-books containing whatever they happen to read about themselves or employ others to collect.

We are formed by little scraps of wisdom.

The man who lets a leader prescribe his course is a wreck being towed to the scrap heap.

Through love scraps of copper are turned to gold.

If by losing the spirit of prayer, you mean losing the heavenly sensations of deep devotion, I am afraid that does not matter a scrap.

What is meant by reality? It would seem to be something very erratic, very undependable - now to be found in a dusty road, now in a scrap of newspaper in the street, now a daffodil in the sun. It lights up a group in a room and stamps some casual saying

That's it then. Cancel the kitchen scraps for lepers and orphans, no more merciful beheadings, and call off Christmas.

They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps.

Stop looking outside for scraps of pleasure or fulfillment, for validation, security, or love - you have a treasure within that is infinitely greater than anything the world can offer.

Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back _x000D_ _x000D_ Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, _x000D_ _x000D_ A great-sized monster of ingratitudes: _x000D_ _x000D_ Those scraps are good deeds past, which are devour'd _x000D_ _x000D_ As fast as they are made, forgot as soon as done.

My brain hums with scraps of poetry and madness.

Now, helpless in the hollow of An unarmorial age, a trough Of smoke in slow suspended skeins Above their scrap of history, Only an attitude remains: Time has transfigured them into Untruth. The stone finality They hardly meant has come to be Their final blazon, and to prove Our almost-instinct almost true: What will survive of us is love.

It is possible to be truly mad and to still exist upon scraps of life.

My head was a magpie's nest lined with such bright scraps of information.

Sure I loved him - too much. And he loved me, only not enough. I just want someone who thinks I'm number one in his life. I'm not willing to accept emotional scraps anymore.