A Quote by Jeroen Brouwers

On who the flies landed without being chased away by that person, was on her way to death - this was one of the unmistakeable signs. From that time on, I think, dates my obsession with flies. In times of peace, when we all lied still, I made sure to sneak close up to my mother, watching very carefully that no fly would land on her, - I waved my hat over her body, flies don't like wind and movement.
Time, still as he flies, adds increase to her truth, and gives to her mind what he steals from her youth.
Like a feather in a dust storm, with no direction The Raven flies through life, helpless and omitted Until night declares and the wind expires. Then it flies to the land of stones and etchings And becomes an Ember, breaking away
The good writers touch life often. The mediocre ones run a quick hand over her. The bad ones rape her and leave her for the flies.
A woman is like your shadow; follow her, she flies; fly from her, she follows.
Would you mind getting off that fly paper and giving the flies a chance?" "Ahhh, you can't trick me! Flies don't read papers!
I don't know what's wrong with me. When I was a girl they had this aviary in one of my foster homes and I'd go in when no one was looking and put out watermelon rinds to feed the flies. There were all these flies that would have starved if I hadn't, and I'm not even wild about flies. They say it makes you a gentler person if you don't eat meat. But wasn't Hitler a vegetarian?
Drosophila,” I said, remembering the word. “What?” Lily asked. “Why do girls always fall for guys with the at ention span of drosophila?” “What?” “Fruit flies. Guys with the attention span of fruit flies.” “Because they’re hot?” “This,” I told her, “is not the time for being truthful.
The sickness of the mother runs on through the girl, leaving her small and helpless. Liquor flies through her brain with the force of a gun, leaving her running in circles.
This is something I haven't told many people, because it's embarrassing. We always used to catch flies with our hands. I was the only one who could catch 'em. One-handed, two-handed. I actually studied flies. I'd watch 'em. How do you catch flies? They fly up. If I can catch that, I can catch anything.
Flies? Flies? Poor puny things. Who wants to eat flies?
Hats change everything. September knew this with all her being, deep in the place where she knew her own name, and that her mother would still love her even though she hadn’t waved goodbye. For one day her father had put on a hat with golden things on it and suddenly he hadn’t been her father anymore, he had been a soldier, and he had left. Hats have power. Hats can change you into someone else.
Time flies. Time flies faster every year. Time flies whether you're having fun or not, whether you're living your life big or small, whether you surround yourself with fear or laughter.
I like football. It's fun winning the ball from someone. It's fun shooting at goal. It's fun hitting a ball over 60 metres that arrives. It's like in golf: if you hit a ball, and it flies and flies and flies, you enjoy it.
Time flies apace-we would fain believe that everything flies forward with it.
Marco knows he does not have the time to push her away, so he pulls her close, burying his face in her hair, his bowler hat torn from his head by the wind...."Trust me," Celia whispers in his ear, and he stops fighting it, forgetting everything but her.
Our primeval Mother Earth is an organism that no science in the world can rationalize. Everything on her that crawls and flies is dependent upon Her and all must hopelessly perish if that Earth dies that feeds us.
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