Bad enough to be ill, but to feel compelled to deny the very thing that, in its worst and most active state, defines you is agony indeed.
Vietnam...war...it did something to us. Or maybe not. Maybe the bad seeds were always in me, and war gave them a dark place in which to grow.
Was he, after all, really a bad man doing a brilliant impersonation of an idiot? It was hard to tell. The connections between stupidity and malice were so tangled and so dense.
An author, whether good or bad, or between both, is an animal whom every body is privileged to attack: for though all are not able to write books, all conceive themselves able to judge them.
All habits are bad habits. (...) Madness does not come by breaking out, but by giving in; by settling down in some dirty, little, self-repeating circle of ideas; by being tamed.
I have a copy of you in my brain; when you make me angry I do very bad things to you.
The work, the pride in your work, the worth of the work itself...all those things faded away to the magic-lantern shades they really were when the pain got bad enough.
She was a pretty good lover. Too bad she wasn’t pretty and good.
Aye, aye, it must be so. I've oversailed him. How, got the start? Aye, he's chasing ME now; not I, HIM--that's bad
It’s bad enough . . . when a country gets colonized, but when the people do as well! That’s the end, really, that’s the end.
In that moment I understood what they say about nostalgia, that no matter if you're thinking something good or bad, it always leaves you a little emptier afterward.
But in that moment I understood what they say about nostalgia, that no matter if you're thinking of something good or bad, it always leaves you a little emptier afterward.
Oh, well, that's not bad, I suppose. I mean, I'd prefer devastatingly sophisticated - but almost endearing is more than I could have hoped for under the circumstances.
A market economy is to economics what democracy is to government: a decent, if flawed, choice among many bad alternatives.
Well, memory can play tricks. Most people, I think, tend to remember the good rather than the bad when someone close to them dies.
MURRY: I believe in a lot of things. Santa Claus, magic, vampires, and even ghosts but I don't believe in luck. Good or bad.
You really are like him, your father." "I can't tell whether you think that's good or bad." "What does it matter? It's simply true.
He wondered where the difference was between the good guys and the bad guys if their means were all just born out of perceived necessity and their goals by the unquestioned orders they had been given.
He was still too young to know that the heart's memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good, and that thanks to this artifice we manage to endure the burden of the past.
I forgot for a second that he was my ancestral enemy, and felt bad for him; then i consoled myself that bird poop brings good luck
That was the thing about being alone, in theory or in principle. Whatever happened-good, bad, or anywhere in between-it was always, if nothing else, all your own.
