88 Quotes by Beryl Markham

To an eagle or to an owl or to a rabbit, man must seem a masterful and yet a forlorn animal; he has but two friends. In his almost universal unpopularity he points out, with pride, that these two are the dog and the horse. He believes, with an innocence peculiar to himself, that they are equally proud of this alleged confraternity. He says, 'Look at my two noble friends -- they are dumb, but they are loyal.' I have for years suspected that they are only tolerant.

We fly, but we have not 'conquered' the air. Nature presides in all her dignity, permitting us the study and the use of such of her forces as we may understand. It is when we presume to intimacy, having been granted only tolerance, that the harsh stick fall across our impudent knuckles and we rub the pain, staring upward, startled by our ignorance.

And still it was gone. Seeing it again could not be living it again. You can always rediscover an old path and wander over it, but the best you can do then is to say, "Ah, yes, I know this turning!" -- or remind yourself that, while you remember that unforgettable valley, the valley no longer remembers you.

Missugused tavalised asjad võivad alguse saada kahe inimese kohtumisest ühel kõrgendiku maalapil? Kuidas saab muuta elu kulgu kõigest ühe tolmusel teel lausutud sõnaga, kui too tee ise on kõigest kui nõelaga veetud kriips, üürike ajas ja nõrguke Aafrika mägedest krobelisel koorel? Kuhu mujale kui tuulde võiks too sõna õigupoolest lennata?

You can live a lifetime and, at the end of it, know more about other people than you know about yourself.

(On Baron von Blixen:)Six feet of amiable Swede and, to my knowledge, the toughest, most durable White Hunter ever to snicker at the fanfare of safari or to shoot a charging buffalo between the eyes while debating whether his sundown drink will be gin or whisky.

The way to find a needle in a haystack is to sit down.

(This place) presumed to be a town then, but was hardly more than a word under a tin roof.

(This town) doesn't look like anything; it isn't anything. Its five tin-roofed huts cling to the skinny tracks of the Uganda Railway like parasites on a vine.