Realistic Fiction Quotes

“And even if somebody else has it much worse, that doesn't really change the fact that you have what you have. Good and bad.”
― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

“After endless cajoling, rationalizing, ego stroking, and outright begging—all to no avail—Isa decided that what Marco didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.”
― Margarita Barresi, A Delicate Marriage

“Why don’t you put up a stand by the road.” I blurted out.”
― R. Gerry Fabian, Just Out Of Reach

“So you want to know all about me, Who
I am
What chance meeting of brush and canvas painted
the face
you see? what made me despise the girl
in the mirror
enough to transform her, turn her into a stranger,
only not.”
― Ellen Hopkins, Crank

“Why is it that when you don't want to think about something, you can't stop thinking about it?”
― Stella Lennon, Invisible I

“Every morning when I wake up, I don’t think I’m going to make it. Or maybe I think that I don’t want to make it. I’m heavy with what I did the night before and I’m heavy with everything inside me and sometimes it is just too goddamn much to carry around.”
― Kathleen Glasgow, The Glass Girl

“Sometimes it feels like I live in a pinball machine and I’m the scratched-up ball, being knocked from one nook to the next, lights blaring, bells ringing. I can never stop the game because I am the game.”
― Kathleen Glasgow, The Glass Girl

“It had not seemed to matter that Rose was only eight years old.
"More than eight," said Rose. "Nearly nine."
"Darling Rose, even almost nearly nine-year-old's don't fall in love," said forgetful Caddy.
Caddy tried very hard to comfort Rose when Tom had left. It was not an easy job. It was like trying to comfort a small, unhappy tiger.
"Who said anything about falling in love?" growled Rose crossly. "Falling! Falling is by accident! I didn't fall in anything!"
"Oh. Right. Sorry, Posy Rose."
"And I am definitely not in love!”
― Hilary McKay, Permanent Rose

“I winked and locked my arm in Carter's, and we stood there, watching Dean stroll away.

"You know the guy's never gonna give up," Carter nudged me, letting out a sigh.

"We'd have really pretty babies, huh?"

"Yup. They'd be rad little Brangelinas, running around tearing the place up."

"Yeah, you're right. My rejection is such a disservice to the world...”
― Rachael Wade, Preservation

“You’ve perfected a mask of powder and black eyeliner and a face for people to look at on the outside and maybe it’s not really who you are on the inside, but who wants to see that? That part is too much and not enough. That part is all hollows and a gray, dying heart.”
― Kathleen Glasgow, The Glass Girl

“If she did see, I hoped she' be amazed. Amazed and thankful, because without even asking, she'd received a genuine autograph from a genuine girl from Atlanta. Not just any girl, but a girl who was, frankly, a pretty big deal. A girl who was me.”
― Lauren Myracle, Ten

“Hey Kate, you coming to our show Friday night?" He leaned in close and touched my shoulder. "The guys would love to see you there."

"Yes. Yes, the guys would indeed." Carter rolled his eyes and smirked. I held back my grin, well aware that he was laughing inwardly at the same thing I was. When Dean spoke of 'the guys,' he mostly meant himself.

With a body like a Ken doll and hair like Meredith's McDreamy, I couldn't figure out for the life of me what he wanted with me.”
― Rachael Wade, Preservation

“You’ll see that person who took your heart and cleaved it in half and stuffed it in their mouth and swallowed and you want it back and you think you’ll never get it and who can live like that?”
― Kathleen Glasgow, The Glass Girl

“I'm sorry, Hen. I still have feelings for you. It's just that my band needs a real bass player now. We're not a joke band anymore. Okay, sweetie?'
That was how Petra Dostoyevsky fired me.”
― Daniel Ehrenhaft, Friend Is Not a Verb

“Your poetry--it doesn't deserve to be locked away, hidden from the rest of the world. And neither do you.”
― Tessa Emily Hall, Unwritten Melody

“Love's beauty is in its simplicity and authenticity.”
― Rendi Ansyah, Beyond the Bouquet: A Symphony of Love in Fifty Movements

“An exciting minute-by-minute story of the English Civil War … from the soldier’s point of view … the historical accuracy is fantastic … the storyline and writing style tremendously exciting.”
― Historical Novels Review

“Charles Cordell, a former soldier, writes with bravura confidence.”
― The Times

“The gun stood on its platform, staring out over the breastwork of earth and timber, out across the steep valley to the hill beyond; a flat-topped hill, a great field of wheat laid over it, ripening and shimmering in the late afternoon sun; a cornfield filled with an army, a Cornish army, a superstitious, idolatrous army; an army of half-wild, barbarous heathens; a cornfield and an army to be cut down; a sacrifice to be reaped. 'For they have sown the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind.”
― Charles Cordell, The Keys of Hell and Death

“Only the poor remained, those who had no money and nowhere else to go. Another governor, more merchants and soldiers would come to take the place of those that left. But the poor always stayed. They always stayed put. And they always stayed poor.”
― Charles Cordell, The Keys of Hell and Death

“Hold your fire!’ screamed Edward, ‘it’s not a gun! She’s got a bloody camera! It’s not a gun! Stand down! Stand down!’
She swivelled at his shout and pointed the camera at him. They locked eyes. There was one more flash. She winked suggestively then sat down… The Harleys revved and were across the bridge in seconds.
Edward bent double, head down, hands on knees, gasping for breath. She’d actually fucking winked! He picked up her abandoned helmet. He could smell her perfume.”
― Willi Pochinov, Maskirovka

“Edward, along with The King and Sir Oleg’s other guests, was glued to the rolling news reports of little green men in London. There were endless drone shots of Buckingham Palace surrounded by foreign tanks.
Edward soon realised that the “news” items were constantly re-fuelled by speculation and counter speculation, rumour and counter rumour, real news and fake news. There was even a short piece to camera about the probable abdication of The King.”
― Willi Pochinov, Maskirovka

“Well, the truth is I’m in a bit of trouble. After that business on the bridge, I was going to be court martialled. I thought it was so bloody unfair… Well the thing is, I’ve escaped in order to clear my name.’
Oleg roared with laughter and crushed Edward’s ribs with a bear hug. ‘You! Bloody outlaw! Robin bloody Hood! How much price on your head? Maybe I claim bounty, eh?’
Shit, Oleg wasn’t taking this at all seriously. He should never have asked…
‘Of course, I help! Leave to me. One condition, you grow big beard, like oligarch… I have idea. Keep head very down. Will find you in two days. Then we hide you very deep.”
― Willi Pochinov, Maskirovka

“ Maskirovka, a pulse-pounding thriller by debut author Willi Pochinov plunges disgraced officer Edward van der Velde into a web of Russian deception, coups, and disinformation from Suffolk to the Black Sea, where truth is the ultimate casualty.

In an era where truth is a battlefield and deception reigns, Willi Pochinov’s debut novel, Maskirovka, emerges as a gripping political thriller that captures the zeitgeist of our disinformation age.

But Maskirovka is more than a thriller — it’s a meditation on trust in an age where reality itself is weaponized. As Edward grapples with his dual identities and the machinations of those around him, readers are left questioning: when nothing is as it seems, who can you believe?

For fans of espionage and political drama, this fiercely contemporary novel is a must-read, proving that even in his ninth decade, Pochinov is a formidable new voice in the genre.”
― Table Reads Magazine

“The horse’s hooves crashed out on the stone floor, echoing in the arched entrance. Ahead, the nave stretched, vast, empty, bathed in colour; the winter sun streaming through stained glass between great arches. The horse snorted, its measured steps ringing out on the flagstones and tombs.”
― Charles Cordell, Desecration: Winchester 1642

“Grenville's line of Cornishmen swayed and lurched, a low growl running through the ranks like a storm far out at sea, the boulders grinding as the waves built. And then it burst, men yelling, shaking their weapons in the air, the pikes clashing, thumping the ground, shouting, demanding, exclaiming, 'Kernow vedn keskerras!' Cornwall will march!”
― Charles Cordell, The Keys of Hell and Death

“But God knew how he missed the sea. He missed it in the sun, in the wind and the dark. He even missed the hiss of rain sweeping across it. He missed the dancing sunlight, its ever-shifting tint and hue, scudding cloud and shadow – dappled, ruffled, heaving, waves ridden by white horses, spume streaked, fierce and shrieking. He missed its limitless, open call, its ungoverned, unchecked freedom, the pull of the horizon, an unknown shore, clarity and unfathomable deep. Most of all he missed the 'mordroz': the sound of the sea, its soothing whisper, its pounding drum, its howling fury. For the sea called to him still; it was in his blood, wanted him back, sucked at his soul, clawing, smothering, dragging him down, a restless lover, a shining temptress that could never be sated.”
― Charles Cordell, The Keys of Hell and Death

“Well, Captain van der Velde, you’re so deep in the ordure, you’re standing on tip toe and it’s still up to your ear lobes. I reckon you’re the ideal man to find some answers.’
‘But I’m under mess arrest, Sir!’
‘That’s not my bloody problem is it, Captain? Now you listen to me! We don’t know how far up this thing goes. I want you to find out what the hell is going on and report back to me personally. So, get your arse of that bed and get yourself out of here any way you like. But you can’t blame me, I can’t be connected to you!’
The Brigadier shook Edward’s hand. ‘Good luck!’ The door clicked shut.”
― Willi Pochinov, Maskirovka

“Sometimes, the greatest love stories begin with a simple hello.”
― Rendi Ansyah, Beyond the Bouquet: A Symphony of Love in Fifty Movements

“Love is not about finding the perfect person but about loving an imperfect person perfectly.”
― Rendi Ansyah, Beyond the Bouquet: A Symphony of Love in Fifty Movements