I’m a bit late, but here’s the last of the QuoteCards in the Salinger/Catcher series, and a lighthearted one at that:

“Who wants flowers when they’re dead? NOBODY.”
– J. D. Salinger

More on the blog (rycariad.co.uk) and let me know if you have a favourite quotes to share 🙂

The promised cheeky ‘Catcher in the Rye’ quote for Thursday…!

“If you had a million years to do it in, you couldn’t rub out even half the “Fuck you” signs in the world. It’s impossible.”
— J. D. Salinger

Let me know if you have a favourite quotes to share 🙂

Ps. I particularly like this next one, but too long for a card:

“That’s the whole trouble. You can’t ever find a place that’s nice and peaceful, because there isn’t any. You may think there is, but once you get there, when you’re not looking, somebody’ll sneak up and write “Fuck you” right under your nose. Try it sometime. I think, even, if I ever die, and they stick me in a cemetery, and I have a tombstone and all, it’ll say “Holden Caulfield” on it, and then what year I was born and what year I died, and then right under that it’ll say “Fuck you.” I’m positive, in fact.”
— J. D. Salinger

A second ‘Catcher in the Rye’ quote today, with a more lighthearted/cheeky quote by the good man coming tomorrow…

“The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.”
— J. D. Salinger

More on the blog (rycariad.co.uk) and let me know if you have a favourite quotes to share 🙂

I’ve missed two days of QuoteCards (boohoo, I hear you say), so here’s a Tuesday quote for you, this time from Tinkerbell, in J. M. Barrie’s Peter Pan…

‘You know that place between sleep and awake, that place where you still remember dreaming? That’s where I’ll always love you. That’s where I’ll be waiting.’

— J. M. Barrie
I’d love to see what your favourite quote is – just let me know what it is in Ask Me Anything!

Survival

Some mornings you wake up

and you’re not sure how you’re here

but you’re here,

with your morning breath
smothered in sea salt,

with so much sand in your bed

you could build an army of castles.


On these days

your skin smells of survival,

and if you quiet your mind enough

you can still hear your lungs

choking with every crash of a wave.

But you are not in water

anymore.

And, look at you:

when the ocean chewed you up,

when she broke your bones,

you taught yourself other ways to swim to shore.

Look at you:

you have survived what scientists

haven’t even discovered yet;

things that have not been named.

Look at you:
you are the result

of holding on even

when you were too tired to.

And have you ever seen anything
so beautiful?