A Quote by Stella Gibbons

Surely she had endured enough for one evening without having to listen to intelligent conversation? — © Stella Gibbons
Surely she had endured enough for one evening without having to listen to intelligent conversation?
Why, after all, should readers never be harrowed? Surely there is enough happiness in life without having to go to books for it.
Are we, like, having a conversation?" "Did you just, like, ask me for advice and listen with an open mind? If so, then yes, I would call this a conversation
Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, “and what is the use of a book,” thought Alice, “without pictures or conversation?
I was introduced to Mr. Davy, who has rooms adjoining mine (in the Royal Institution); he is a very agreeable and intelligent young man, and we have interesting conversation in an evening; the principal failing in his character as a philosopher is that he does not smoke.
She had always told herself that she did hti job because she wanted to help others; afterall, hadn't Maurice told her once that the most important question any individual could ask was, "How might I serve?" If her response to that question had been pure, surely she would have coninued with the calling to be a nurse.... But that role hadn't been quite enough for her. She would have missed the excitement, the thrill when she embarked on the work of collecting clues to support a case.
He should have no further trouble from her, he thought in satisfaction. Surely by now she knew his dominance over her. She would submit as easily in all matters as she had in this one. He frowned then. She had submitted, hadn´t she?
Sometimes after an enjoyable family home evening, during a fervent family prayer, or when our entire family is at the dinner table on Sunday evening eating waffles and engaging in a session of lively, good-matured conversation, I quietly say to myself, 'If heaven is nothing more than this, it will be good enough for me!'
We used to call it her Cinderella complex, because often when she had agreed to go out in the evening she would be seized by panic and announce that she had nothing to wear.
People paused to listen to Denise Chávez and she had them - with gum on her shoes, she had them. She said she stepped on gum when she came up to the stage and she couldn't move, so she had to stay in one spot otherwise people would see the Chiclet.
...she had regained what I thought she had lost forever, the magical sadness which had drawn me to her, the thwarted look that had seemed to say, "Surely I was made for some other purpose than this?
I've met Theresa May, and I think she's a good person. I'm not someone who goes, 'Ooooh, boooo, the Tories,' or 'Ooooh, boo' anyone, actually. You sit down and have a sensible conversation, and she is really, really capable of having a sensible conversation.
The doctor's wife wasn't a bad woman. She was sufficiently convinced of her own importance to believe that God actually did watch everything she did and listen to everything she said, and she was too taken up with rooting out the pride she was prone to feeling in her own holiness to notice any other failings she might have had. She was a do-gooder, which means that all the ill she did, she did without realizing it.
[Eva Braun] loved [Adolf Hitler]. She would have done that had she been able to spend 10 minutes with him. She endured a lot on his behalf, there's a great deal on that subject to be said.
I did not want to be mistreated, I did not want to be deprived of a seat that I had paid for. It was just time… there was opportunity for me to take a stand to express the way I felt about being treated in that manner. I had not planned to get arrested. I had plenty to do without having to end up in jail. But when I had to face that decision, I didn't hesitate to do so because I felt that we had endured that too long. The more we gave in, the more we complied with that kind of treatment, the more oppressive it became.
It's very difficult to have a conversation about yourself when you're the granddaughter of Audrey Hepburn, as it was difficult for me to have a conversation about something without, 'What was she like? What was she really like?'
Writing is what's important to me, and anything that helps me do that - or enhances and prolongs and deepens and sometimes intensifies argument and conversation - is worth it to me. [It is] impossible for me to imagine having my life without going to those parties, without having those late nights, without that second bottle.
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