“When you keep searching for ways to change your situation for the better, you stand a chance of finding them. When you stop searching, assuming they can’t be found, you guarantee they won’t.”
“A time for every occupation under heaven. A time for giving birth, a time for dying; a time for planting, a time for uprooting what has been planted; a time for tears, a time for laughter; a time for mourning, a time for dancing; a time for searching, a time for losing; a time for loving, a time for hating...”
“I go about the world, obedient to the god, and search and make enquiry into the wisdom of any one, whether citizen or stranger, who appears to be wise; and if he is not wise, then in vindication of the oracle I show him that he is not wise; and my occupation quite absorbs me, and I have no time to give either to any public matter of interest or to any concern of my own, but I am in utter poverty by reason of my devotion to the god.”
“The trouble with trying to find a brown-covered book among brown leaves and brown water at the bottom of a ditch of brown earth in the brown, well, grayish light of dawn, was that you couldn’t.”
“How happy we would be if we could find the treasure of which the Gospel speaks; all else would be as nothing. As it is boundless, the more you search for it the greater the riches you will find; let us search unceasingly and let us not stop until we have found it.”
“I will hunt you down. I will scour the streets of Los Angeles for you. Search every street in the Republic if I have to. I will trick you and deceive you, lie, cheat and steal to find you, tempt you out of your hiding place, and chase you until you have nowhere else to run. I make you this promise: your life is mine.”
“Where did all those feelings go? People spend their whole lives looking for love. Poems and songs and entire novels are written about it. But how can you trust something that can end as suddenly as it begins?”
“I was a terrible believer in things, but I was also a terrible nonbeliever in things. I was as searching as I was skeptical. I didn’t know where to put my faith, or if there was such a place, or even what the word faith meant, in all of it’s complexity. Everything seemed to be possibly potent and possibly fake.”
“You’re an interesting species. An interesting mix. You’re capable of such beautiful dreams, and such horrible nightmares. You feel so lost, so cut off, so alone, only you’re not. See, in all our searching, the only thing we’ve found that makes the emptiness bearable, is each other.”
“You know what goes on in this world. They don’t understand. They don’t see that long after their laughter subsides, in search of the next cheap thrill, their victims are still hearing the taunts in their heads. A cacophony of degrading noise, poisoning perception.”
“Too many people believe that everything must be pleasurable in life, which makes them constantly search for distractions and short-circuits the learning process.”
The narration shifts throughout the book alternating between J.J. in his search for the county’s lost time and the wanderings of the new policeman in Kinvara, Garda Larry O’Dwyer. Like J.J. (and most of Kinvara it seems), the new policeman has a love for music.
“I looked into her eyes, and saw my own staring back, the same peculiar shade, pale grey, flecked with yellow, rimmed with black. Now I knew the nature of her debt. It had weighed on her conscience for fourteen years. I was looking into the eyes of mother and I knew that I would never see her again.”
“She was all that I knew, all that was dear. I’d loved her and she’d loved me. Now I was alone in the world. How would I do without her? My thoughts echoed the landlady: What would become of me?”
Meet the feisty Clarice Bean and sympathize with her search for just a little peace and quiet amidst a family many of us will recognize only too well. The witty text and jazzy illustrations capture the wonderful wacky chaos of a large extended family from the hilarious vantage point of one of its youngest members.
But one day the Duck wants to stir instead, and then there is a horrible squabble, and he leaves the cabin in a huff. It isn’t long before the Cat and the Squirrel start to worry about him and begin a search for their friend.
“Inez thought [the Baby] must be searching for a name, since Mrs. da Souza would not give it one. Mrs. da Souza considered it a waste to name a child before knowing whether it would survive.”
“They searched among the pews, looking under the seats, lifting hassocks, moving piles of hymn-books, creeping about and popping up in unexpected places. Reverend Timms did find something, but it was not Sarah-Ann. It was a lady’s glove.”
“They searched everywhere. They lifted cushions, they looked under chairs and behind chairs, they peered behind the television set and amongst the coats that hung on the back of the door, they even moved the sideboard out from the wall to see if Sarah-Ann had slipped down the back. It was no good, they didn’t find Katy’s doll but Mrs. Thompson did find a knife down the side of the chair.”
Did you come from the other side? You know, from Mexico? So begins the friendship between Prietita and Joaquin, the young boy who, with his mother, has crossed the Rio Grande River to Texas in search of a new life.
Alexander, who can’t have pets in his city apartment, has Felix, a stuffed dog, with whom he talks and laughs. One day Alex fails to return at the expected time, and Felix goes out in search of his owner, accidentally ripping his side on the way.
“Like a great glaring eye, then, the light searched about.
It flashed past the trees down the steep rocky bluff
And it searched high and low, but not quite high enough.”
“Among the boulders piled up high there is no sign of Little My. They searched and search but find no trace. The bitter wind whips Mymble’s face. Moomintroll feels extremely glum. He wants his home, his bed, his mum. Where is the warm and sunny day?”
“The Wizard has been searching for the stone for more than 100 years, but the forces of evil are closing in, determined to possess and destroy its special power.”
“Hallo, Eeyore,” he said, “what are you looking for?”
“Small, of course,” said Eeyore. “Haven’t you any brain?”
“Oh, but didn’t I tell you?” said Rabbit. “Small was found two days ago.”
There was a moment’s silence.
“Ha-ha,” said Eeyore bitterly. “Merriment and what-not. Don’t apologize. It’s just what would happen.”
“Well, the point is, have you seen a Spotted or Herbaceous Backson in the Forest, at all?”
“No,” said Pooh. “Not a—no,” said Pooh. “I saw Tigger just now.”
“That’s no good.”
“No,” said Pooh. “I thought it wasn’t.”
“Well,” said Pooh, “we keep looking for Home and not finding it, so I thought that if we looked for this Pit, we’d be sure not to find it, which would be a Good Thing, because then we might find something that we weren’t looking for, which might be just what we were looking for, really.”
“I don’t see much sense in that,” said Rabbit.
“No,” said Pooh humbly, “there isn’t. But there was going to be when I began it. It’s just that something happened to it on the way.”
“But, as for me, I come to the inquest with other senses than they possess. I shall seek this man, as I have sought truth in books; as I have sought gold in alchemy. There is a sympathy that will make me conscious of him. I shall see him tremble. I shall feel myself shudder, suddenly and unawares. Sooner or later, he must needs be mine!”