Quotes On Shooting An Elephant

#1. You just want me to hold you until you fall asleep?"
I didn't answer.
He shifted to look straight into my eyes. "I should say no to prove a point," he said, his eyebrows pulling together. "But I would hate myself later if I said no and you never asked me again.

Jamie McGuire

#2. And it is a great thing to die in your own bed, though it is better still to die in your boots.

George Orwell

#3. He wears a mask, and his face grows to fit it.

George Orwell

#4. I don't know how many lions and leopards I've shot. I've shot two elephants, which was enough - never again. It's a melancholy and moving thing to hunt an elephant. It's like shooting an old man.

Wilbur Smith

#5. Sometimes you have to know when to let hope go.

Jennifer L. Armentrout

#6. I think I write very good songs. But I don't know if anybody could record my songs with as much fervor. They sound good sung by me, and they especially sound good with my band.

Art Alexakis

#7. Old age likes indecency. It's a sign of life.

Mason Cooley

#8. Art has this long history, predating even language, of expressing nonverbal information.

Betty Edwards

#9. I thought of my father and felt a deep sorrow that he should no longer be alive, and that I could not go to him and tell him that I had been awarded the Nobel Prize. I knew that no one would have been happier than he to hear this.

Selma Lagerlof

#10. My anger with him had grown as the hours had passed. I'd convinced myself when he came to get me i would really give him a piece of my mind. Of course - it's easy to be brave when the object of your fear isn't holding your sore nipples hostage. ~ Livvie

C.J. Roberts

#11. They plunged into an enormous and eager conversation, first about books, then about shooting, in which the girl seemed to have an interest and about which she persuaded Flory to talk. She was quite thrilled when he described the murder of an elephant which he had perpetrated some years earlier.

George Orwell

#12. I am like a gray thing, he thought. Bustling along with the currents of air that tumble me, that roll me, like a gray puffball, on and on.

Philip K. Dick