H.W. Charles Quotes
I know that some nightin some bedroomsoonmy fingers willriftthroughsoft cleanhairsongs such as no radioplaysall sadness, grinninginto flow.
Oh, miss Haversham said I, there have been sore mistakes and my life has been a blind and thankless one, and I want forgiveness and direction far too much to be bitter with you.
For certain, neither of them sees a happy Present, as the gate opens and closes, and one goes in, and the other goes away.
Once in a rare lifetime have you ever been in a roomful of people who only helped you when you looked at them, listened to them. this was one of those magic times. I knew it.
Modernity kills ghostly romance("The Undying Thing")
I could never acceptlife as it was, I could never gobbledown all itspoisonsbu there were parts, tenuous magic partsopen for theasking.
I have remembered Who wept for a parting between the living and the dead.
... Any Christian spirit working kindly in its little sphere, whatever it may be, will find its mortal life too short for its vast means of usefulness!
Remember how strong we are in our happiness and how weak he is in his misery!
She had wild eyes, slightly insane. She also carried an overload of compassion that was real enough and which obviously cost her something.
The air was filled with phantoms... and... the misery with them all was, clearly, that they sought to interfere, for good, in human matters, and had lost the power forever.
Wish me everything that you can wish for the woman you dearly love, and I have as good as got it, John. I have better than got it, John.
there's no clarity.there was never meant to be clarity.
sometimes all we need to be able to continue aloneare the deadrattling the wallsthat close us in.
Let us take heed how we laugh without reason, lest we cry with it.
It is necessary to look forward to a harvest, however distant that may be, when some fruit will be reaped, some good effected.
for meobedience to another is the decayof self
He cross-examined his very wine when he had nothing else at hand.
A moral being is one who is capable of reflecting on his past actions and their motives—of approving of some and disapproving of others.
He was too well accustomed to suffering, and had suffered too much where he was, to bewail the prospect of change very severely.
Why does a man destroy himself or what destroys him? I would have to judge that suicide is mostly the tool of the thinking man. The right to suicide should be the same as the right to love.
There is nothing that teaches you more than regrouping after failure and moving on. Yet most people are stricken with fear. They fear failure so much that they fail.
To surround anything, however monstrous or ridiculous, with an air of mystery, is to invest it with a secret charm, and power of attraction which to the crowd is irresistible.
When the Attorney-General ceased, a buzz arose in the court as if a cloud of great blue-flies were swarming about the prisoner, in anticipation of what he was soon to become.
...and who must have had something real about her, or she could not have existed, but it certainly was not her hair, or her teeth, or her figure, or her complexion.
I'm a devil at a quick mistake, and when I make one it takes the form of Lead.
When I get down to my last dime I'll just walk over to skid row.""There are some real weirdos down there.""They're everywhere.
Poor people have been voting for big government liberalism for 50 years... and they are still poor.
The centuries are sprinkled with rare magicwith divine creatureswho help us get past the common and extraordinary ills that beset us
the grace is being able to like rock music, symphony music, jazz …anything that contains the original energy ofjoy.
the people are the biggesthorror show on earth, have been forcenturies.
Whatsume'er the failings on his part, Remember reader he were that good in his hart.
beware women grownoldwho were neveranything butyoung
and love is a word usedtoo much andmuchtoo soon.
regret is mostly caused by not havingdone anything.
sometimes it's hard to knowwhat todo.
I found the best thingI could dowas just to type awayat my own workand let the dyingdieas they always have.
one doesn't even think ofthe liverand if the liverdoesn't think ofus, that'sfine.
when I drive the freeways I see the soul of humanity ofmy city and it's ugly, ugly, ugly: the living have choked theheartaway.
I didn't know who tobelievebutone thing I doknow: when a man islivingmany claim relationshipsthat are hardlysoand after he dies, well, then it's everybody'sparty.
He wouldn't hear of anybody's paying taxes, though he was very patriotic.