#third

The first draught serveth for health, the second for pleasure, the third for shame, and the fourth for madness. ↗

— Anacharsis

#first #fourth #health #madness #pleasure

Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep, And yet a third of life is passed in sleep. ↗

— Lord Byron

#death #life #makes #men #passed

It is a tragedy beyond the power of language to convey when what has been imposed on women by force becomes a standard of freedom for women: and all the women say it is so. ↗

— Andrea Dworkin

#feminism #freedom #patriarchy #third-wave-feminism #tragedy

So,” sneered Fudge, recovering himself, “you intend to take on Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Dolores, and myself single-handed, do you, Dumbledore?” “Merlin’s beard, no,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “Not unless you are foolish enough to force me to.” “He will not be single-handed!” said Professor McGonagall loudly, plunging her hand inside her robes. “Oh yes he will, Minerva!” said Dumbledore sharply. “Hogwarts needs you! ↗

— J.K. Rowling

#fudge #funny #mcgonagall #third-person #funny

Jenny: But surely Lord Blakely could not abandon his estates for so long. Gareth: No. Lord Blakely could not. Not unless he had someone he could trust to run his estates in his absence. And Lord Blakely...Well, Lord Blakely did not trust anyone. Jenny: Lord Blakely is talking about himself in the third person, past tense. Its disturbing. ↗

— Courtney Milan

#romance #third-person #humor

I am thing that thinks: that is, a things that doubts,affirms, denies, understands a few things, is ignorant of many things, is willing, is unwilling, and also which imagines and has sensory perceptions. ↗

— René Descartes

#imagination

Thirdly, Death is nothing else but a change of a short and temporary for an unalterable and eternal condition. ↗

— John Pearson

#condition #death #else #eternal #nothing

The town was sunk in a kind of crystal ball; everyone seemed to be asleep (transcendentally asleep!) no matter if they were walking or sitting outside. Around five the sky clouded over and at six it began to rain. The streets cleared all at once. I had the thought that if it was as if autumn had unsheathed a claw and scratched: everything was coming apart. The tourists running on the sidewalks in search of shelter, the shopkeepers pulling tarps over the merchandise displayed in the street, the increasing number of shop windows closed until next summer. Whether I felt pity or scorn when I saw this, I don't know. Detached from any external stimulus, the only thing I could see or feel with any clarity was myself. Everything else had been bombarded by something dark; movie sets consigned to dust and oblivion, as if for good. ↗

— Roberto Bolaño

#movies

There is something demoralizing about watching two people get more and more crazy about each other, especially when you are the only extra person in the room. It's like watching Paris from an express caboose heading in the opposite direction--every second the city gets smaller and smaller, only you feel it's really you getting smaller and smaller and lonelier and lonelier, rushing away from all those lights and excitement at about a million miles an hour. ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#third-wheel #chance

One night I was standing on Third Avenue playing my guitar, when this big Irish policeman came strolling by, and stopped to listen to my singing and playing. When I was done, he politely handed me a ticket for disturbing the peace, while at the same time telling me how much he liked my voice. I wish I still had that ticket. ↗

— Frank Stallone

#big #came #disturbing #done #guitar