Quotes
Authors
Karin Fossum

"We're not really afraid to die. We're only afraid of being forgotten. We know that we'll be forgotten, and the idea is unbearable, don't you agree? As time passes we become infrequent visitors in the minds of those left behind. The ones who clear out the house & divide up the belongings. Throw away the rubbish. And forget. If we knew that every evening someone lit a candle and sat down to think â€“ thought about is if only for a few seconds â€“ then we could depart this earth in peace. No-one will light a candle for me. Who would do that?"

Source : Karin Fossum (2008). “When The Devil Holds The Candle”, p.84, Random House

Karin Fossum

#Thinking Quotes #Light Quotes #Ideas Quotes

“Journalism wishes to tell what it is that has happened everywhere as though the same things had happened for every man. Poetry wishes to say what it is like for any man to be himself in the presence of a particular occurrence as though only he were alone there.”
“Cats are smarter than dogs. You can't get eight cats to pull a sled through snow.”

Source : "Biography/ Personal Quotes". www.imdb.com.
“What could we accomplish if we knew we could not fail?”
“I want to keep acting and I want to keep working with high quality artists. I might be a bit spoiled because they're so good at what they do. I think the only way you learn is to surround yourself with people that are better than you.”
“I will devote my body and soul to the service of the people and the nation.”
“You feel like telling him you're not single in the way that he thinks you're single. After all, you have yourself.”
“While their methods differ radically, artists and physicists share the desire to investigate the ways the interlocking pieces of reality fit together. This is the common ground upon which they meet.”

Source : Leonard Shlain (1991). “Art and Physics: Parallel Visions in Space, Time, and Light”, William Morrow & Company
“There is not much talking now. A silence falls upon them all. This is no time to talk of hedges and fields, or the beauties of any country. Sadness and fear and hate, how they well up in the heart and mind, whenever one opens pages of these messengers of doom. Cry for the broken tribe, for the law and the custom that is gone. Aye, and cry aloud for the man who is dead, for the woman and children bereaved. Cry, the beloved country, these things are not yet at an end. The sun pours down on the earth, on the lovely land that man cannot enjoy. He knows only the fear of his heart.”

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