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But no, we cross, crisscross, and recross our old tracks like figure skaters.
David Mitchell
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David Mitchell
Age: 55
Born: 1969
Born: January 12
Actor
Composer
Linguist
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
Text Writer
Translator
Writer
Clarkfield
Minnesota
David Stephen Mitchell
David Henry Mitchell
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Skaters
Skater
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Crosses
Track
More quotes by David Mitchell
Torturous advances won over generations can be lost by a single stroke of a myopic president's pen or a vainglorious general's sword.
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Don't remember summer even saying goodbye.
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Lunatics are writers whose works write them.
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I'm from a time and place where bigheadedness was a really savage crime, and you'd get cut down for it by your peers and parents.
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The song instantly insisted it'd never existed.
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Human hunger birthed the Civlize, but human hunger killed it too.
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I rarely ever put my head above the rampart and see where this big lumbering behemoth called 'global literature' is going.
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. . .my dreams are the single unpredictable factor in my zoned days and nights. Nobody allots them, or censors them. Dreams are all I have ever truly owned.
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I recently bought a cat, but took it back a day later because our personalities clashed.
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The most malicious god is the god of the counted chicken.
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We are both busy people, so let's cut the small talk.
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Probably is a word with an emergency ejector seat.
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What is poker? A card game where abler liars take money off less able liars.
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Do, said Louisa finally, whatever you can't not do.
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I believe there is another world waiting for us. A better world. And I'll be waiting for you there.
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I'm a novelist, that's how I make my livelihood, and I concentrate on the novels.
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The mind has a mind of its own. It shows us pictures. Pictures of the past and the might-one-day-be. This mind's mind exerts its own will, too, and has its own voice.
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How vulgar, this hankering after immortality, how vain, how false. Composers are merely scribblers of cave paintings. One writes music because winter is eternal and because, if one didn't, the wolves and blizzards would be at one's throat all the sooner.
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Assured her I've never loved anyone except myself and have no intention of starting now.
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Memories are their own descendents masquerading as the ancestors of the present.
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