Memoirs Quotes

“For a moment, or a second, the pinched expressions of the cynical, world-weary, throat-cutting, miserable bastards we've all had to become disappears, when we're confronted with something as simple as a plate of food.”
― Anthony Bourdain, Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly

“he couldn't entice me with his pills, hookers, guns or war mission”
― Edward Williams, Framed & Hunted: A True Story of Occult Persecution

“In terms of size, mammals are an anomaly, as the vast majority of the world's existing species are snail-sized or smaller. It's almost as if, regardless of your kingdom, the smaller your size & the earlier your place on the tree of life, the more critical is your niche on Earth: snails & worms create soil, & blue-green algae create oxygen; mammals seem comparatively dispensable, the result of the random path of evolution over a luxurious amount of time.”
― Elisabeth Tova Bailey, The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating

“My mom absolutely LOVED all things English, so it’s not too surprising that she loved English tea parties. When she and I traveled—which was frequently—we often found ourselves in locations (Vancouver, Ottawa, London, Bath, Cardiff, to name a few) where we could take advantage of that lovely English custom of “taking tea.” So, for a special surprise party, I invited a dozen of Mom’s Gainesville friends to “take tea” with us. Even though it was December, it was warm enough to use the screen porch and the deck. That’s the “Florida advantage!”
― Mallory M. O'Connor, The Kitchen and the Studio: A Memoir of Food and Art

“You can’t just come out and say what you have to say. That’s what people do on airplanes, when a man plops down next to you in the aisle seat of your flight to New York, spills peanuts all over the place (back when the cheapskate airlines at least gave you peanuts), and tells you about what his boss did to him the day before. You know how your eyes glaze over when you hear a story like that? That’s because of the way he’s telling his story. You need a good way to tell your story.”
― Adair Lara, Naked, Drunk, and Writing: Writing Essays and Memoirs for Love and for Money

“Almost every family has their own Christmas traditions (if, indeed, they celebrate Christmas) and we certainly had several. First, the house was thoroughly cleaned and decorated with wreaths and paper chains and, of course, the Christmas tree with all its sparkling lights and ornaments. The cardboard nativity scene had to be carefully assembled and placed on the mantle. And there was the advent wreath with its little windows to be opened each morning. And then there were the Christmas cookies. About a week before the holiday, Mom would bake several batches of the cookies and I invited all my friends to come and help decorate them. It was an “all-afternoon” event. We gathered around our big round dining table with bowls of colored icing and assorted additions—red hot candies, coconut flakes, sugar “glitter,” chocolate chips, and any other little bits we could think of. Then, the decorating began!”
― Mallory M. O'Connor, The Kitchen and the Studio: A Memoir of Food and Art

“When Mr. William Faraday sat down to write his memoirs after fifty-eight years of blameless inactivity he found the work of inscribing the history of his life almost as tedious as living it had been, and so, possessing a natural invention coupled with a gift for locating the easier path, he began to prevaricate a little upon the second page, working his way up to downright lying on the sixth and subsequent folios.”
― Margery Allingham, Dancers in Mourning

“I asked Bill what career path he thought I should take, and he replied, “Live the artist’s life.” For years I pondered over his advice. What did it mean to “live the artist’s life?” I finally came to realize that there were no written codes, no hard and fast rules. You didn’t have to starve in a garret or drink yourself to death or cut off your ear. You didn’t even have to literally “make art” physically. The art was your life—your values, your outlook, your passions, your point of view. It was the things you cherished, whether they were people or places or ideas.”
― Mallory M. O'Connor, The Kitchen and the Studio: A Memoir of Food and Art

“If there’s an eighth wonder of the world, I would suggest lavender. Not only is it beautiful to the eye and heavenly to the nose, it also is said to have antiseptic and anti-inflammatory properties and research suggests it may be useful in treating anxiety, insomnia, and depression. And it’s a wonderful addition to—ta-da—COOKIES! Mom always kept a large wooden wine barrel filled with lavender next to the back porch so she could grab a handful of lavender flowers whenever the mood struck her. She made lavender sachets to hang in the closets and added lavender to her rose potpourri. We regularly had lavender lemonade or lavender muffins and often some lavender flowers were identifiable in a lamb stew or as a garnish for steaks. All part of our Mediterranean lifestyle.”
― Mallory M. O'Connor

“So, it wasn’t until I was living in Mexico that I first started enjoying chocolate mousse. See, there was this restaurant called La Lorraine that became a favorite of ours when John and I were living in Mexico City in 1964–65. The restaurant was in a beautiful old colonial period house with a large courtyard, red tile floors, and a big black and white portrait of Charles de Gaulle on the wall. The proprietor was a hefty French woman with grey hair swept up in a bun. She always welcomed us warmly and called us mes enfants, “my children.” Her restaurant was very popular with the folks from the German and French embassies located nearby. She wasn’t too keen on the locals. I think she took to us because I practiced my French on her and you know how the French are about their language! At the end of each evening (yeah, we often closed the joint) madame was usually seated at the table next to the kitchen counting up the evening’s receipts. Across from her at the table sat a large French poodle, wearing a napkin bib and enjoying a bowl of onion soup. Ah, those were the days… Oh, and her mousse au chocolate was to DIE for!”
― Mallory M. O'Connor, The Kitchen and the Studio: A Memoir of Food and Art

“Had I left some children behind somewhere in the world?”
― Edward Williams, Framed & Hunted: A True Story of Occult Persecution

“How paltry are the traces left behind by a life, even one concentrated around those supposed things of permanence called words. We spend our time upon the earth and then disappear, and only one one-thousandth of what we were lasts. We send all those bottles out into the ocean and so few wash up on shore.”
― john darnton, Almost a Family: A Memoir

“That night we slept apart, all those unexplored continents reemerged on the atlas of your bed.”
― Rosalyn D'Mello, A Handbook For My Lover [Hardcover] Rosalyn DMello

“I am afraid I have never exist.”
― Amadeus Casaubon Garamond

“many things had changed about her, but he was pleased to discover that her basic laught was untouched, aside from an inevitable, slight change of key. She had, he thought, one of the world's great laughts!”
― Gabrielle Zevin, Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow

“Death was dressed like you, talked like you, acted like you, and was just waiting for you to make one mistake and the heavens would open, and death would rain down on you.”
― Andrew Balaam, Skuzapo: The untold story

“Whatever the case, after you see the damage a mortar round can do, the word incoming! becomes the scariest word you know.”
― Dennis Bourret

“Shortly after midnight, two huge explosions erupted somewhere in the middle of the hamlet. Some kids suggested we should run back home, but my brother stopped them, reasoning that, "It is war; you guys may get shot along the way.”
― Sam Huynh, From Saigon to Katum: Two Exchanges of War

“When you see life’s unexpected events as divine teachers, you begin to notice the blessings and the miracles hidden inside each setback.”
― Tiffany Storrs, Adaptability: A True Story About Transforming Pain Into Purpose

“I sat to take in the view. The wind blew just hard enough to push my heavy, unkept hair back. I filled my lungs with the cool air and felt roots begin to take hold. I had always been a restless person, even at this early point in life, and this was a new experience: peace. I felt as though the trees and earth of the mountain reached up into my soul and curled around it, making it whole. The inky blackness I had yet to name, the dark pit that buzzed just below my surface and corroded my thoughts, was quieted. For a moment, it was like I didn't feel it at all.

When my mom asked me what was wrong, I told her exactly how I felt as best I could.

"My home is in Georgia, but my soul is at home here.”
― Leah Myers, Thinning Blood: A Memoir of Family, Myth, and Identity

“Ideal for women across generations, this book speaks to those questioning their relationships, yearning for adventure, or seeking strength in adversity. Audrey's journey is a testament to the power of making heart-breaking yet soul-healing decisions.”
― Audrey C Amos

“You say you reject your gender. But that isn’t right. Your gender is whatever you make it. It is your sex you reject. It is your sex you recognize when you like your dress but not the way it fits. It is your sex you try to hide when you tuck your penis or tighten your corset. It is your sex you hope to alter with hormones. But your sex is your flesh. You are no poltergeist enmeshed in skin and bone and brain. You are skin and bone and brain. A war upon your flesh is a war upon yourself.”
― Shannon Thrace, 18 Months

“I poured too much of myself into you. I lost too much. Even my life before you feels suspicious. My relatives are old and I have no heirs. I counted on you to take my memories, to be their witness, to give them a home. You were family. You were an extension of me. My past seems like an illusion now, the mad fancy of someone who no longer exists.”
― Shannon Thrace, 18 Months

“Heresy is in my blood. I speak the Ineffable!”
― Shannon Thrace, 18 Months

“Çatımızın arkası ve tepesindeki esinti insaniydi. Ferahtı. Havadardı. Asla unutmamak gerekir ki çatı, “Yağmur ve güneşten korunmaya muhtaç olan” insan için bir kurtuluştur. Çatıda her zaman çıplak ayakla olurdum. Çıplak ayaklı olmak, kaybettiğim bir nimet. Ayakkabı, iniş’i inkar yolunda yürüyen insanın telaşından geriye kalan şeydir. Cennetten uzak kalışın doğurduğu hüznün temsilidir.”
― Sohrab Sepehri, Henüz Yolcuyum

“Rules of Engagement had consequences for those who fought with everything they had, far beyond the end of the war”
― Andrew Balaam, Skuzapo: The untold story

“Skuzapo label: a soldier who was not black or white but simply a vital half of one soldier”
― Andrew Balaam, Skuzapo: The untold story

“To pass yourself off as a terrorist was no easy task. The pressure was continuous, day and night, twenty-four hours a day. You were operating in a world where a slip of the tongue, a wrong item of clothing could cost you and your team their lives.”
― Andrew Balaam, Skuzapo: The untold story

“In Africa only the strong survive”
― Andrew Balaam, Skuzapo: The untold story

“Lee Maracle used to always talk about this. She explained that celebrating yourself, holding your hard work and successes up, meant that your community then had the opportunity to celebrate and hope up. That being great was a gift to your family, your community, and your ancestors.”
― Cherie Dimaline, An Anthology of Monsters: How Story Saves Us from Our Anxiety