Bookmarked Thoughts is a weekly meme presenting my thoughts on a specific topic or image. If you would like to join in please let me know in the comments below.
What is about about some passages in novels that you want to bookmark them, highlight them and keep them forever nestled by your heart. The ones that you are constantly quoting until they are are part of you; the ones that becomes your mottos and guides.
I believe the sign of a good writer are the number of passages you want to tear from the pages and savour forever, for long after the plot and characters fade from memory it is the quotations that remain.
The medium of the story told by books is words so it is of the utmost importance that those words be both beautiful and powerful; be able to show the story and impart a message.
Some of my favourite quotations are:
“I like to imagine that the world is one big machine. You know, machines never have any extra parts. They have the exact number and type of parts they need. So I figure if the entire world is a big machine, I have to be here for some reason. And that means you have to be here for some reason, too.”
– The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick
“The answer is never the answer. What’s really interesting is the mystery. If you seek the mystery instead of the answer, you’ll always be seeking. I’ve never seen anybody really find the answer. They think they have, so they stop thinking. But the job is to seek mystery, evoke mystery, plant a garden in which strange plants grow and mysteries bloom. The need for mystery is greater than the need for an answer.”
– Ken Kesey
“There is a story, always ahead of you. Barely existing. Only gradually do you attach yourself to it and feed it. You discover the carapace that will contain and test your character. You will find in this way the path of your life.”
– The Cat’s Table by Michael Ondaatje
“Perhaps that is our doom, our human curse, to never really know one another. We erect edifices in our minds about the flimsy framework of word and deed, mere totems of the true person, who, like the gods to whom the temples were built, remains hidden. We understand our own construct; we know our own theory; we love our own fabrication. Still . . . does the artifice of our affection make our love any less real?”
– The Monstrumologist by Rick Yancey