Death Quote by Anne Fadiman

“A sonnet might look dinky, but it was somehow big enough to accommodate love, war, death, and O.J. Simpson. You could fit the whole world in there if you shoved hard enough.” quote by Anne Fadiman — Download Open image

““A sonnet might look dinky, but it was somehow big enough to accommodate love, war, death, and O.J. Simpson. You could fit the whole world in there if you shoved hard enough.””

Anne Fadiman

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Death Love Sonnet Sonnets War Whole world

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“He simply could not imagine a time when being a Jew, or even a half Jew, was not a disability.”

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“When he looked back at the menu as an old man, it brought back everything; the food, the wine, the private dining room, the pride he took in being able to pay for such a dinner, the convergence of his life as a writer and his life as an oenophile, the conviviality that grew as the night continued and everyone…

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“His books commingled democratically, united under the all-inclusive flag of Literature. Some were vertical, some horizontal, and some actually placed behind others. Mine were…

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“her father had built from ax-hewn planks thatched with bamboo and grass. The floor was dirt, but it was clean. Her mother, Foua, sprinkled…

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Some day, as soon as a book is printed it will be simultaneously put into digital form. That will be a wonderful research tool, but it will never substitute for holding the book. I feel certain that at least within my lifetime, everyone will still be going to the bookstore and buying printed books. Thank God I'll die before I…

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“we expect a wine of quality to demand something from us.”

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“Going through a dead parent's memorabilia is a hazardous undertaking; there is a fine line between pleasure and pain.”

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“He was constantly, pathologically, insanely busy. That’s how he afforded the wine.”

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...the reader who plucks a book from her shelf only once is as deprived as the listener who, after attending a single performance of…

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“Benjamin Franklin wrote that he would like to be embalmed in a cask of Madeira”

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“It was beautiful. He thought he had never seen anything so beautiful in all his life; that, having seen it, he could die content, knowing that he would never see anything so beautiful again. He wished he could have seen it for longer. More, he wished he could have taken it apart, studied it all the way down to its…

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“What did you see?” she asked gently. His brow furrowed, as if he could not understand the question. Then his eyes turned to the paper on which he'd been writing. They went to the quill that he seemed surprised to see in his hand. When he turned to look at her again, fresh tears spilled from Michel de Nostredame's eyes.…

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