Lorrie Gerow > Lorrie's Quotes

“Knowledge Is Power and Power Is Dangerous”
― Alexander Morpheigh, The Pythagorean

“Attached to each arm, as well as the skirt, they looked like an attempt to grow wings.
”
― Susan Rowland, The Swan Lake Murders

“I’m just a visual thinker – that’s all. Pictures instead of words. No big deal.”
― Sara Pascoe, Being a Witch, and Other Things I Didn't Ask For

“He turned and saw Becky, crying in the doorway of her house. What was he doing here? Turning back he saw flashing blue lights at the end of the road, and realised the ringing in his ears was the sound of approaching sirens.”
― R.D. Ronald, The Zombie Room

“The silence, seclusion, and sky-scraping perch atop the highest peak in the valley struck him at once as quite eerie, yet sublimely ethereal.”
― Rich DiSilvio, The Arnolfini Art Mysteries

“Our independence is still fragile. To seize power is difficult, but to preserve it is more difficult!”
― Michael G. Kramer, The Full Circle for Mick

“Gunfire doesn’t startle real Texans, particularly those from rural towns. Miranda’s children mastered pistols, shotguns, and rifles like magicians master top hats, rabbits, and playing cards. Texas bravado aside, however, fully automatic gunfire wasn’t kosher. Not even close. Mirandites cowered at the ominous sounds of hoodlums firing M-16s and AK-47s from train cars barreling through the town’s arteries on largely secluded tracks. ”
― Chad Boudreaux, Homecoming Queen: A Small-Town Political Thriller

“Do not let me hear
Of the wisdom of old men, but rather of their folly,
Their fear of fear and frenzy, their fear of possession,
Of belonging to another, or to others, or to God.
The only wisdom we can hope to acquire
Is the wisdom of humility: humility is endless.”
― T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets

“I’m cold,' Snowden said softly, 'I’m cold.'
'You’re going to be all right, kid,' Yossarian reassured him with a grin. 'You’re going to be all right.'
'I’m cold,' Snowden said again in a frail, childlike voice. 'I’m cold.'
'There, there,' Yossarian said, because he did not know what else to say. 'There, there.'
'I’m cold,' Snowden whimpered. 'I’m cold.'
'There, there. There, there.”
― Joseph Heller, Catch-22

“He lost himself in the words and images conjured in his mind and for a while forgot ... He found himself flying among stars and planets ...”
― Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Prince of Mist

“In the last week of April 2004, a handful of the Abu Ghraib photographs were broadcast on 60 minutes and published in The New Yorker, and within a couple of days they had been rebroadcast and republished pretty much everywhere on earth. Overnight, the human pyramid, the hooded man on the box, the young woman soldier with a prisoner on a leash, and the corpse packed in ice had become the defining images of the Iraq war...Never before had such primal dungeon scenes been so baldly captured on camera...But above all, it was the posing soldiers, mugging for their buddies' cameras while dominating the prisoners in trophy stances, that gave the photographs the sense of unruly and unmediated reality. The staging was part of the reality they documented. And the grins, the thumbs-up, the arms crossed over puffed-out chests—all this unseemly swagger and self-regard was the height of amateurism. These soldier-photographers stood, at once, inside and outside the events they recorded, watching themselves take part in the spectacle, and their decision not to conceal but to reveal what they were doing indicated that they were not just amateur photographers, but amateur torturers.
So the amateurism was not merely a formal dimension of the Abu Ghraib pictures. It was part of their content, part of what we saw in them, and it corresponded to an aspect of the Iraq War that troubled and baffled nearly everyone: the reckless and slapdash ineptitude with which it had been prosecuted. It was an amateur-run war, a murky and incoherent war. It was not clear why it was waged; too many reasons were given, none had held up, and the stories we invented to explain it to ourselves hardly seemed to matter, since once it was started the war had become its own engine—not a means to an end but an end in itself. What had been billed as a war of ideas and ideals had been exposed as a war of poses and posturing.”
― Philip Gourevitch, Standard Operating Procedure

“The battle roar settled to a rolling thunder, which was a single long explosion. In the regiment there was a peculiar kind of hesitation denoted in the attitudes of the men. They were worn, exhausted, having slept but little and labored much. They rolled their eyes toward the advancing battle as they stood awaiting the shock. Some shrank and flinched. They stood as men tied to stakes.”
― Stephen Crane, The Red Badge of Courage [Adaptation]