107 Quotes & Sayings By Carla H Krueger

Nothing in her life makes sense. All she craves is for the pieces of the puzzle to fit together again. She is sure one day it will happen. She just doesn’t know when. She can’t fight injustice alone— for that, she needs her friends. Carla H. Krueger

One day, I decided I was going to write books forever. Carla H. Krueger

You have to know your own mind inside out before you can know the minds of others. Carla H. Krueger

The fear of not being remembered is a dangerous thing. Carla H. Krueger

I’m proud to be a writer. I’m doing the job all my heroes did. Carla H. Krueger

One man’s fight is another man’s freedom. Carla H. Krueger

Reality was dawning on him and he hated reality. If you were him, so would you. Carla H. Krueger

No matter what the good boys tell you, criminality is not a level playing field. Carla H. Krueger

I have a very addictive personality. If it isn’t women, it’s money. If it isn’t money, it’s speeding. And if it isn’t speeding, it’s women. I also like expensive video consoles where I can punch, kick, screw, shoot and drive legally all night anywhere I fucking well want to. Carla H. Krueger

Katie soon learned there was a problem with hope. Carla H. Krueger

First time I ever put pen to paper, I had one goal — to build something no one had ever thought of before. Carla H. Krueger

Writing is just building a new world — one character, one place, one maniac at a time. Carla H. Krueger

Dawn cackles as she guides me through the all-glass porch. Thinner, paler Reina shuffles about behind Dawn, watching as I slip my boots off. Although she tries to hide her hands, her fingers flicker nervously. I place my boots neatly on the floor of the porch beside the other pairs in the shadows under the coats. Music drifts through to us from a distant room — it’s the Beach Boys’ California Dreamin’. Dawn looks at me and I smile — they’ve put the record on for me. Dawn nods along happily. ‘Hear you’re a surfer boy! ’ she says and she mimics riding a wave. Carla H. Krueger

Writing is a solitary existence, especially if you forget to chat to your friends — sorry, I meant characters. Carla H. Krueger

Blank walls are a shared canvas and we're all artists. Carla H. Krueger

Bea stared at the pencils as if they were enemies. Carla H. Krueger

Books are readable drugs. Carla H. Krueger

Prayer is better than pills. Carla H. Krueger

Life isn't over until you're dead. Another ultra-positive, ultra-motivational tweet to improve your day. You're welcome. Carla H. Krueger

The breeze around them seemed to drop — dead — like a door to the best things had just closed. Carla H. Krueger

He had become the sky around the sun — alive, but not really there. Carla H. Krueger

Beyond the boundaries of herself, her parents and the enclosing garden walls, were open fields and other waiting places she still knew nothing of — lies of the land, perhaps. What Katie did know is that out there in the lonely nowhere was a special quietness, free of the sounds of daytime birds or foxes at night — and that it was a quietness she might like to listen to one day. Carla H. Krueger

On some days she was able to see both sun and moon at the same time. Like feuding cousins, they hung in two corners of the vast world-ceiling refusing to look at one another. The moon was always harder to spot and more faded, but it was there if you looked, as many things were. Carla H. Krueger

Trap yourself inside your own brain, switch off the light, block all the escape routes, then turn your back on everything you know to be reality and try and survive there. Try. Living. Nowhere. Carla H. Krueger

Nearly two years of dates. Still no question. Her mother and father want to set a proper date. Still no question. Her friends keep asking, when, Natasha? When? But she still hasn’t been asked The Question. It’s enjoyable to be the one with all the secrets, but in her honest mind — the hidden part that’s always sleeping — the secrets he keeps about when and if give her a feeling inside she’s never really understood completely — a sensation she had as a child when she got to the end of a fairytale where never-ending love and happiness were all but expected and wondered whether there might be…. one last page. . Carla H. Krueger

He remembers how someone — he forgets who — once said in a sarcastic tone, “Isn’t she just Little Miss Sweetness and Light?” — and it was a statement that put him off proposing. It made him seriously reassess his options. He didn’t want to be with someone others saw as overly-moral because he has flaws, he has weaknesses. How would his mistakes compare to her virtuousness? She used to dislike the competitiveness at work, the way she claimed she could never really make friends with anyone because everything was always so fake and cut-throat and he used to berate her for it, used to tell her to accept it, to realise the truth about life and relationships — but she wouldn’t take it. She was always thinking too hard about everything, always questioning her motives. Surely, if he’d married her, she’d have started questioning his. Carla H. Krueger

Time is not an enemy as such, but a missing person, sending cryptic postcards from the past. Carla H. Krueger

Youngsters deserve no opinions. Carla H. Krueger

Most people assume I write at night because of the kind of books I write, but I can shut out the light with my mind. Carla H. Krueger

Some ancient oversight had nearly taken his sight, but this sad fuck was already blind inside. Carla H. Krueger

Please, never tell me what 'horror erotica' is. Real #art is being lost in a bizarre swamp of over-processed, sexually exploitative garbage. Carla H. Krueger

I became a physicist to understand the world, then I became a writer to try and change it. Carla H. Krueger

For no real reason — well, perhaps because of the seriousness under the trees or Nader’s hair, which was very messy and covered in little grass seeds — Katie began to giggle. She knew it was wrong, yet it was also natural. She covered her mouth with both hands, but Nader was already pale with revulsion. He turned and marched away into unwanted sunlight, leaving her to wonder why bad things happened and why no good person prevented them. . Carla H. Krueger

A silence absorbed them both — a lack of sound so potent it blackened the place with something richer than hate. Carla H. Krueger

The only difference between writers and people who don't write is that writers aren't afraid to display their demons. Carla H. Krueger

She heard him speak, but did not recognise the problem in his voice — only later did she realise it was that thing he’d been concealing — known as guilt. Carla H. Krueger

I always feel anxious if anyone’s close to uncovering my secrets. Carla H. Krueger

Too old for dolls. Too ill for tablets. Carla H. Krueger

The fear of silence is a fear everyone should overcome. Carla H. Krueger

Shush — it’s silent time again. Carla H. Krueger

I’ve always thought that the best moments can come from the worst times. Carla H. Krueger

We are all the sum of a million moments in our lives. Carla H. Krueger

She was not alone in her respect for him. Because he is more than a boss to people. He’s a religion for non-believers. Carla H. Krueger

Self-belief is not self-centred. We can only fight effectively for others if we already believe in ourselves. Carla H. Krueger

I want to question societal norms, encourage people to think in new ways. Carla H. Krueger

Reading and writing dangerous books lets me be who I can't be and say what I can't say in everyday life. Carla H. Krueger

There is just too much cruelty, selfishness and corruption in the world not to want to crush the poisonous will of those who cause it by writing about it as powerfully as I can. Carla H. Krueger

Without pride, man becomes a parasite — and there are already too many parasites. Carla H. Krueger

Shame comes in different doses. Carla H. Krueger

It’s late and most of the clerks are at home in their beds, dreaming of swimming in pools filled with real money. Carla H. Krueger

Don’t mock my suggestions, Ridley — one day in the near future, they might just save your life.” Maxwell D. Kalist. Carla H. Krueger

Men circle like bees around honey, buzzing to communicate their sexual despair. Carla H. Krueger

Only men with intelligence, confidence and absolutely no empathy at all can progress upstairs. Carla H. Krueger

Every time I so much as blink you get an erection. Carla H. Krueger

To Kalist, Baumauer’s just a timber bridge in need of a good hot fire. Carla H. Krueger

He’s in a side room alone with her and it’s far too fucking hot. Carla H. Krueger

You are a more powerful person than you might have ever imagined.” Maxwell D. Kalist. Carla H. Krueger

Are there not times, Ridley, when you yourself wish only to hear the best in people — and not to be dragged downwards into the underworld we all regularly inhabit? Carla H. Krueger

I’m warning you because you’re young and vulnerable. He’s a dirty, lying, conniving piece of shit and he’s dangerous.” Gottfried Baumauer. Carla H. Krueger

Maxwell D. Kalist is a receiving teller at a city bank, Orwell and Finch, where he runs an efficient department of twenty two clerks and twelve junior clerks. He carries a leather-bound vade mecum everywhere with him — a handbook of the most widely contravened banking rules. He works humourlessly (on the surface of it) in a private, perfectly square office on the third floor of a restored grain exchange midway along the Eastern flank of KvÄ›tniv’s busy, modern central plaza. Behind his oblong slate desk and black leather swivel chair is an intimidating, three-storey wall made almost entirely of bevelled, glare-reducing grey glass in art-deco style; one hundred and thirty six rectangles of gleam stacked together in a dangerously heavy collage. Carla H. Krueger

Each day of the week, Kalist indulges himself in a different, secret ritual. On Mondays, he wears cologne. On Tuesdays, he eats meat for lunch. On Wednesdays, he places a bet after work. On Thursdays, he smokes one cigarette (but claims he’s not a smoker). On Fridays, he treats himself to his favourite pastime: horse practice — he grew up with horses and likes to try and emulate their distinctive whinnies, snorts, neighs, snuffles, sighs, grunts, fluttering nostrils, the occasional aggressive outburst and the especially beautiful nicker of a mare to her foal. And, on Saturdays, lest we forget, Maxwell D. Kalist drinks wine from a chalice. Carla H. Krueger

When a person sets out to learn from others and not to teach others he becomes a true writer. Carla H. Krueger

When I write, I try to represent the voices of people I've known who had no voice. Carla H. Krueger

All the best writers take risks, offend people often and say fuck you to the critics. Carla H. Krueger

Welcome to Sex Media, Where Fantasy Becomes Reality! Carla H. Krueger

Names can hide so much. Carla H. Krueger

This is no place for limits. Carla H. Krueger

It is not fiction. It is history. And both their histories match now. Carla H. Krueger

This is a landscape of dreams cemented in the past, of hopes gone cold, of girls and boys for rent in officially empty tower blocks, where none is truly so. Carla H. Krueger

The loudest silence is camera silence. Carla H. Krueger

Secrets are dangerous.” Gottfried Baumauer. Carla H. Krueger

Nader refused to bring her the feathery dream catcher — her asabikeshiinh — with its willow-web and invisible ‘lady spider’ apparently weaving her spells — an object Bea insisted always hung above her in bed. Carla H. Krueger

I’ll be your friend until you find a better one. Carla H. Krueger

Day after day, week after week; writing great fiction takes time, emotion, skill and effort. Carla H. Krueger

When people say, 'you're so young to be a writer, ' I always reply, 'I started young because I've got a lot to write. Carla H. Krueger

Writing is more about telling other peoples' stories than your own Carla H. Krueger

There are times when I can't believe how much ridiculous stuff happens to me and how brilliant it is to be in a position to write about it. Carla H. Krueger

Every book contains a secret — even the writer doesn't always know what it is. Carla H. Krueger

The most lies we will ever tell in our lives will be to ourselves. Carla H. Krueger

Someone asked me, 'How do you write a book?' I said, 'I live with a pen in one hand. Carla H. Krueger

Books are like rivers, meandering this way and that, but taking us on a steady, flowing course to somewhere different. Carla H. Krueger

It's better to be remembered for what you said, not what you earned. Carla H. Krueger

When I write, I write obsessively. I try to pace myself, but some fires are too hot to put out. Carla H. Krueger

I lose it when I can't write. I feel sad and confused and fucked off. Carla H. Krueger

Lyrics paved my teenage route to loving words. I take those passionate mini-stories with me everywhere. Carla H. Krueger

I’m much more than a writer — I’m someone who puts different words together in an interesting way. Carla H. Krueger

When I write, it feels like there are two little creatures that sit on each of my shoulders. One whispers, "You can do this. You've got what it takes." The other sounds like my mother-in-law. Carla H. Krueger

I’m an observer. I am fascinated by people and how their minds work (and, of course, my own). Why we are the way we are, why we do the things we do — and that interest drives my writing. I was a physicist before fiction claimed my soul, so I’m an experimenter. I’m open to different ways of thinking. I like exaggerating, making things up. I’m a very open, honest person in life and that’s the way it should be, but when it comes to fiction, I want to pour a few sharp objects into the comfort zone. Our fears are powerful, yet we’ve all got a desire to laugh and be entertained. I could have followed the same path I do now as a scientist, examining how the brain works. Ironically I get much more freedom to experiment as a writer. That’s why I love it. Carla H. Krueger

If I don't stay in and write, I feel like a prisoner. Carla H. Krueger

I live, love and loathe my characters. They stole my mind. They stole my heart. Carla H. Krueger

My best writing happens when I’m fighting to produce it. Carla H. Krueger

I do not do free e-books. I occasionally like to eat that thing you people call "food". Carla H. Krueger

I like to think I’ve written something worth reading when I cry the tears of the characters. Carla H. Krueger

People love books because they're searching for answers to deep, unconscious questions - and books get as close as it's possible to get. Carla H. Krueger

I suffered my own battles. I suffer still. Carla H. Krueger

It’s much harder to twist the charitable arm of a lottery winner compared to that of a man at his lowest ebb. It sounds like the wrong way round at first, but when you really put your nut to it, people are more frightened of losing the big shit than of having fuck all to begin with and losing a bit of that. Carla H. Krueger