Colleen McCullough Quotes

От свободно падащите черни къдрави коси и поразително сините очи до изящните ръце и крака отец Ралф беше действително съвършен. Не, изключено беше да не си дава сметка за това. И все пак държанието му й подсказваше, че той е над всички тези неща и че никога не е робувал и няма да робува на външността си. Той без угризение би я използвал, ако трябва, за да постигне целта си, но не като че ли жертва нещо скъпо, а по-скоро с презрение към хората, над които тази външност имаше влияние.

Belief doesn't rest on proof or existence...it rests on faith...without faith there is nothing

Beware the Greeks when they bear gifts.

There is a legend about a bird that sings just once in its life, more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth. From the moment it leaves the nest it searches for a thorn tree and does not rest until it has found one. Then, singing among the savage branches, it impales itself upon the longest, sharpest spine. Dying, it rises above its own agony to out-carol the lark and the nightingale. One superlative song, existence the price. But the whole world stills to listen, and God in His heaven smiles. For the best is only bought at the cost of the great pain. … Or so says the legend.

distinguished his garb from that of his sons, Sextus and Gaius, who wore ordinary shoes,

" И ето пак: посреща лошото с вдигната глава, поема новия удар- без вик, без сълзи, без протест. Само леко трепва, сякаш да намести товар, за да може по- добре да го носи. И затаи дъх, без дори да въздъхне. "-
Колийн Маккълоу, Птиците умират сами

What could death be for him but the entrance into everlasting life? For the rest of us, the passage is not so easy.

There are no ambitions noble enough to justify breaking someone's heart.

Cerība ir visnežēlīgākā pavadone, un reizēm otram vislabāk var palīdzēt, nogalinot viņā bezcerīgu cerību.

Khi có một người có hai bàn tay như thế thì ai cũng biết ngay đó là một người lương thiện.

Yet there's something ominous about turning sixty-five. Suddenly old age is not a phenomenon which will occur; it has occurred.

There is a legend about a bird which sings only once in it's life, more beautifully than any other creature on the face of the earth. From the moment it leaves it's nest, it searches for a thorn tree, and does not rest until it has found one. Then, it impales it's breast on the longest, sharpest thorn. But as it is dying, it rises above it's own agony to outsing the Lark and the Nightingale. The Thornbird pays it's life for that one song, and the whole world stills to listen, and God in his heaven smiles, as it's best is brought only at the cost of great pain; Driven to the thorn with no knowledge of the dying to come. But when we press the thorn to our breast, we know, we understand.... and still, we do it.

It's not worth getting upset about, Mrs. Dominic. Down in the city they don't know how the other half lives, and they can afford the luxury of doting on their animals as if they were children. Out here it's different. You'll never see man, woman or child in need of help go ignored out here, yet in the city those same people who dote on their pets will completely ignore a cry of help from a human being.

Best of all she liked his eyes, such a translucent golden brown, and so laughing.

Kovėsi jis geriau negu kada nors gyvenime, regis, buvo pasiryžęs sutelkti visą didžiulę jį lydinčią šlovę į šią vienintelę dieną. Užuot pasidavęs įprastiniam siautuliui žudyti, stengėsi, kad sektųsi mirmidonams. Kovėsi nebe kirviu, o kalaviju ir visiškai tylomis, kaip karalius, kasmet atliekantis didįjį atnašavimą dievui. Ta mintis patraukė paskui save kitą, ir aš iš karto supratau, kokia permaina jame įvykusi. Visada jis būdavo tik karalaitis, niekada nebuvo karalius. O tą dieną jis buvo karalius.