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SHERWOOD ANDERSON:

"Out of her defeats has been born a new quality in woman. I have a name for it.

I call it Tandy.

I made up the name when I was a true dreamer and before my body became vile. It is the quality of being strong to be loved. It is something men need from women, and they do not get." The stranger arose and stood before Tom Hard. His body rocked back and forth and he seemed about to fall, but instead he dropped to his knees on the sidewalk and raised the hands of the little girl to his drunken lips. He kissed them ecstatically. "Be Tandy, little one," he pleaded. "Dare to be strong and courageous. That is the road. Venture anything. Be brave enough to dare to be loved. Be something more than man or woman. Be Tandy." - Winesburg, Ohio

RAY BRADBURY

"He turned the corner. The autumn leaves blew over the moonlit pavement in such a way as to make the girl who was moving there seem fixed to a sliding walk, letting the motion of the wind and the leaves carry her foward. Her head was half bent to watch her shoes stir the circling leaves. Her face was slender and milk-white, and in it was a kind of gentile hunger that touched over everything with tireless curiosity. It was a look, almost of pale suprise; the dark eyes were so fixed to the world that no move escaped them. Her dress was white and it whispered. He almost thought he heard the motion of her hands as she walked, and the infinitely small sound now, the white stir of her face turning when she discovered she was a moment away from a man who stood in the middle of the pavement waiting. The trees overhead made a great sound of letting down their rain. The girl stopped and looked as if she might pull back in suprise, but instead stood regarding Montag with eyes so dark and shining and alive that he felt he had said something quite wonderful. But he knew his mouth had only moved to say hello, and then when she seemed hypnotized by the salamander on his arm and hte phoenix disc on his chest, he spoke again." Fahrenheit 451

OSCAR WILDE:

"Yes, we are overcharged for everything nowadays. I suppose that the real tragedy of the poor is they can afford nothing but self denial. beautiful sins, like beautiful things, are the privilege of the rich.

'Oh! i should fancy in remorse, in suffering in . . . well, the conciousness of degradation.' Lord Henry shrugged his shoulder. 'My dear fellow, mediaval art is charming, but mediaval emotions are out of date. One can use them in fiction, of course. But then the only things that one can use in fiction, of course, are the things that one has ceased to use in fact. Believe me, no civilized man ever regrets a pleasure, and no uncivilized man ever knows what a pleasure is.'

'I know what pleasrue is," cried Dorian Gray. 'it is to adore someone. that is certainly better than being adored.' he answered, toying with some fruits. 'being adored is a nuisnance. Women treat us just as humanity treats the gods. They worship us, and are always bothering us to do something for them. I should have said that whatever they ask for they had first given to us,' murmured the lad gravely. 'they create love in our natures. they have a right to demand it back.'

'that is quite true, Dorian,' cried Hallward.

'nothing is ever quiet true,' said Lord Henry.

'this is,' interrupted Dorian. 'You must admit, Harry, that women give to men the very gold of their lives.'

'possibly,' he sighed, 'but they invariably want it back in such very small change. that is the worry, women, as some witty Frenchman once put it, inspire us with the desire to do masterpieces and always prevent us from carrying them out.'

'Harry, you are dreadful! I dont know why I like you so much.'

'You will always like me, Dorian," he replied. 'will you have some coffee, you fellows? Waiter, bring cofee, and fine champagne, and some cigarettes. No, dont mind the cigarettes - I have some. Basil, I cant allow you to smoke cigars. you must have a cigarette. a cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure. it is exquisite, and it leaves one unsatified. what more can one want? Yes, Dorian, you always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.'

'what nonsense you talk, Harry!' cried the lad, taking a light from a fire-breathing silver dragon that the waiter had placed on the table. ' let us go down to the theatre. when sibyl comes on the stage you will have a new ideal of life. she will represent something to you that you have never known.'

'I have known everything,' said Lord Henry, with a tired look in his eyes, 'but i am always ready for a new emotion. I am afraid, however, that for me at any rate, there is no such thing. Still, your wonderful girl may thrill me. I love acting. It is so much more real than life. Let us go. Dorian." - The Picture of Dorian Grey

I love books. You love books, too. . .if you read all that. .. rockymchair

"It was a face in which two terribly liquid eyes drowned. A face in which these eyes, swimming in delirium, could find no shore, no respite, no rescue. And seeing that there was nothing to touch which was not reprehensible, the eyes, bright with despair, swam in place, sustained themselves at the surface of a turmoil of flesh, refused to sink, give in, and vanish. There was a spark of the last hope that, by swiveling this way or that, they might sight some peripheral rescue, some touch of self-beauty, some revelation that all was not as bad as it seemed. So the eyes floated, anchored in a red-hot lava of destroyed flesh, in a meltdown of genetics from which no soul, however brave, might survive. While all the while, the nostrils inhaled themselves and the wound of mouth cried Havoc, silently, and exhaled." - BRADBURY