So She Quoth

Spitzweg, “The Bookworm”

There are some things I read or hear said that for some inexplicable reason, certainly not by design, stick in my head. Not only that, when I think of one, I seem naturally to think of the other. Or here’s a different scenario: during the course of a day or a week, I randomly encounter different texts by totally dissimilar authors and yet their ideas fall along the same lines and “fit” together in a startling way. Such unsought moments are blissful pools of mystery to a bookworm like me.

So when talented and industrious Meredith of Meredith’s Musings (thank you!) threw out the Three-Day Quote Challenge with a metaphorically gilded invitation, imagine if you can the glee I felt at the thought of compressing three quotes from immortal writers whose vastly differing voices chime together in the same vein while still playing by the rules!  Check it out for yourself and allay any qualms you may have:

I – Post your favorite quotes or your own quotes for three (3) posts in a row.
 II – Thank the person who nominated you.
 III – Pass it on to three (3) other bloggers per quote, each time you post them.
 IIIb – Or pass it to nine (9) bloggers if you choose to post all the quotes together, in the same post.

Well, I’m bending that last rule just a tad and throwing out an invitation to all the creative writers of fiction out there – including but not limited to – Wallie of Wallie’s Wentletrap, John of The Artistic Christian, Joyce of Reflections, Colin of Sublime Terror, Draliman of Draliman on Life, and Jessica of A Little Person in God’s Vast Creation –  with just one ammendation: the quotes you select must be from a work of fiction! Please feel free to ignore this and all the rules if it so suits you. I have no cudgel to hold over you.

And now to commence with the task at hand. My three quotes (mark how they fall together most serendipitously, she quoth) are from the following hall of famers:


From William Shakespeare’s Cymbeline:
Jachimo (a villain) to Imogen (but really to himself in wonder):
What, are men mad? Hath nature given them eyes
To see this vaulted arch, and the rich crop
Of sea and land, which can distinguish ‘twixt
The fiery orbs above, and the twinn’d stones
Upon the number’d beach, and can we not
Partition make with spectacles so precious
‘Twixt fair and foul?

From Jane Austen’s Persuasion:
Mrs. Smith hesitated a little here. “Oh! those things are too common. When one lives in the world, a man or a woman’s marrying for money is too common to strike one as it ought. I was very young, and associated only with the young and we were a thoughtless, gay set, without any strict rules of conduct. We lived for enjoyment. I think differently now; time and sickness and sorrow, have given me other notions; but at that period, I must own I saw nothing reprehensible in what Mr. Eliot was doing. ‘To do the best for himself’ passed as a duty.”

From Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment:
Razumikhin: Because you know what irks me the most about it? Not that they’re lying: lying can always be forgiven: lying is a fine thing, because it leads to the truth. No what irks me the most is that they lie and they worship their own lies.

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