A Warden Quotes & Sayings

When Barlinnie's Prison doctor, Dr Danson, came to see Dingus, he turned in disgust at the state Dingus was left to lie in. Doctor Danson refused to treat him as he knew Dingus's injuries were life threatening, he told the top warden that Dingus would need to be rushed to Glasgow Royal Infirmary for emergency surgery. The screws in the seg block refused to listen to the doctor, they pushed and manhandled their own doctor out of Dingus's cell and threatened him with a severe beating if he made anything public about Dingus's injuries. — Stephen Richards

Strange things began to happen that made Holmes's claims about being the devil seem almost plausible. Detective Geyer became seriously ill. The warden of Moyamensing prison committed suicide. The jury foreman was electrocuted in a freak accident. The priest who delivered Holmes's last rites was found dead on the grounds of his church of mysterious causes. The father of Emeline Cigrand was grotesquely burned in a boiler explosion. And a fire destroyed the office of District Attorney George Graham, leaving only a photograph of Holmes unscathed. — Erik Larson

If a warden sees cigarette litter being thrown from a car, they will take the number and trace the owner to send them a fine. — Andrew Jackson

Queen Jeyne would be safest behind the high, strong walls of Riverrun, with the Blackfish to protect her. Robb had even created him a new title, Warden of the Southern Marches. — George R R Martin

God isn't asking you to fight the devil. He is asking you to simply uphold or sustain the victory won by
Jesus at Calvary and enforce his authority over the devil. You're like the traffic warden who raises his hand and the vehicles stop. They don't stop because he can physically bring the
vehicles to a halt, but because he is representing and upholding the authority of the state. — Pedro Okoro

I'd blurted out the question only to keep him from noticing that I was working my hands free, but the Warden behind me, some young brown-haired surfer dude, yelled a warning. "She's getting loose!"
Narc. — Rachel Caine

Head. "We've got enough starfish," he said and then went on, "Look, Hazel, I know you've got six or seven undersized abalones in the bottom of your sack. If we get stopped by a game warden, you're going to say they're mine, on my permit - aren't you?" "Well - hell," said Hazel. "Look," Doc said kindly. "Suppose I get an order for abalones and maybe the game warden thinks I'm using my collecting permit too often. Suppose he thinks I'm eating them." "Well - hell," said Hazel. "It's like the industrial alcohol board. They've got suspicious minds. They always think I'm drinking the alcohol. They think that about everyone. — John Steinbeck

A glass poured to air for the one who sits with us unseen; the patron and protector, the Crooked Warden, the Father of Necessary Pretexts.
Thanks for deep pockets poorly guarded.
Thanks for watchmen asleep at their posts.
Thanks for the city to nurture us and the night to hide us.
Thanks for friends to help us spend the loot. — Scott Lynch

Back at the compound, they had dug in a systematic order, row upon row, allowing space for the water truck. But out here there was no system. It was as if every once in a while, in a fit of frustration, the Warden would just pick a spot at random, and say, "What the hell, dig here." It was like trying to guess the winning numbers in a lottery. — Louis Sachar

I wouldn't be satisfied simply escaping from my prison of silence; I was planning to escape, free the other inmates, shoot the warden, and burn down the prison. Sometimes I get that way. It's a surprisingly useful frame of mind. — Scott Adams

He is a warden for Hells Prison. A politician shoved in the guise of a devil. He doesn't care about the Lost Souls he steals with his promises of illusion. He just wants numbers like the republicans want votes. He lives with the other Fallen and Demons in a place made especially for their kind ... The city of Sin itself. Las Vegas, Nevada.
They call it Wanton.
I call it hell. It's certainly hot enough.-Lilith — Ashley Jeffery

I have, in general, not had fun during my service as a Warden of the White Council. I have taken no enjoyment whatsoever in becoming a soldier in the war with the Vampire Courts. Doing battle with the forces of ... I was going to say evil, but I'm increasingly unsure exactly where everyone around me falls on the Jedi-Sith Index. — Jim Butcher

Except that Morgan's face was too pinched and thin to pull off the look. "Your point being?" I did my best to keep from looking nervous or impressed. Truth be told, I was both. Morgan was my Warden, assigned to me by the White Council to make sure I didn't bend or break any of the Laws of Magic. He hung about and spied on me, mostly, and usually came sniffing around after I'd cast a spell of some kind. I would be damned if I was going to let the White Council's guard dog see any fear out of me. Besides, he would — Jim Butcher

Because I became a refugee in Macau during 1941, we had this war in Hong Kong, I fought for the government as an air raid warden for 15 days. Our government surrendered, Hong Kong Government surrendered, so I took a junk and came to Macau in 16 hours and I was a refugee, so that's why I was so much indebted to Macau. — Stanley Ho

the station, but Ruth and Marie were against the idea. What if one of the neighbors saw them all waiting for Johanna? It would only lead to prying questions. So Peter was reduced to pacing up and down in front of the door like a prison warden. Ruth and Marie left him to it. It was almost eight o'clock when they finally heard him say, "She's coming!" They all rushed outside. Johanna was as white as a sheet. She didn't wave her hand, or laugh, or call out "We've got a contract!" From the look on her face and her heavy gait, there could only be one explanation. It had all gone terribly wrong. They didn't dare look at each other. They were rooted to the spot as they watched Johanna approach. Neighbors passing by on the street watched the scene in surprise. — Petra Durst-Benning

When the warden appeared outside their cell, he ogled Regin's bared midriff. Gross. Whenever men leered at her, Regin tended to leer back. She canted her head on the floor, turning it one way, then the other. I finally understand what a dickie-do is. Your gut does stick out more than your dickie do. — Kresley Cole

You can never want too much. That's how they silence us," I said. "They told us we were lucky to be in the penal colony instead of the aether. Lucky to be murdered with NiteKind, not the noose. Lucky to be alive, even if we weren't free. They told us to stop wanting more than what they gave us, because what they gave us was more than we deserved." I picked up my jacket. "You're not a prisoner any more, Arcturus." Warden looked at me in silence. I left him in that ruined hall with the music echoing above him. — Samantha Shannon

I asked the Warden why he never left this valley, why he didn't get away from the prison and me and the ignorant young guards and the bells across the lake and all the rest of it. He had years of leave time he had never used. He said, "I would only meet more people." "You don't like any kind of people?" I said. We were talking in a sort of joshing mode, so I could ask him that. "I wish I had been born a bird instead," he said. "I wish we had all been born birds instead. — Kurt Vonnegut

I never thought I'd find someone like you. Someone who'd put up with me having a son and wanting to be part of both our lives. Why do you do it, Becca?" I ask, my heart pounding against my chest.
"Because, Josh. You and Tommy ... " She places my hand over her heart. " ... you own me in here." And even as I feel her heart beat against my palm, I wonder if she knows that she just made mine stop. — Jay McLean

Do all people have that? A face, a phrase, a landscape, an air bubble from the past suddenly floating up as if released by the head warden's child from a cell in the brain while the mind is at work on some totally different matter? Something of the sort also occurs just before falling asleep when what you think you are thinking is not at all what you think. Or two parallel passenger trains of thought, one overtaking the other. — Vladimir Nabokov

This is a very important undercover operation which you are endangering just by talking to us." He opened his jacket. "Look, I have a gun. I am Detective Inspector Me. This is my partner, Detective Her." The traffic warden frowned. "Her?" "Me," said Stephanie. "Him?" "Not me," said Skulduggery. "Her." "Me," said Stephanie. "You?" said the traffic warden. "Yes," said Stephanie. "I'm sorry, who are you?" Stephanie looked at him. "I'm Her, he's Me. Got it? Good. — Derek Landy

Crooked Warden, I will fear no darkness for the night is yours," muttered Locke, pointing the first two fingers of his left hand into the darkness. The Dagger of the Thirteenth, a thief's gesture against evil. "Your night is my cloak, my shield, my escape from those who hunt to feed the noose. I will fear no evil, for you have made the night my friend."
"Bless the Benefactor," said Jean, squeezing Locke's left forearm. "Peace and profit to his children. — Scott Lynch

Master Thorn... you have a curiously tender heart, for a thief of your appetites."
"I'm a sworn brother of the Nameless Thirteenth, the Crooked Warden, the Benefactor," said Locke. "I'm a priest. — Scott Lynch

But relevance is a matter of time and space. What matters to you can hardly be considered to be of importance to a traffic warden in a village you never even heard of on Earth. You may sit on a train, or in a car on that planet, and watch events pass that concern you not and affect you not. Yet for those involved directly they can be the most agonising moments of life. The mother who has just lost a child; the lover just deserted. You may see them by the road side but know nothing of their grief. — Tony Attwood

He reminded me of the Viking god Thor, if Thor had been a reclusive federal game warden from Texas with excellent manners. — Penny Reid

Who killed this man [Patrick Sonnier]?
Nobody.
Everybody can argue that he or she was just doing a job - the governor, the warden, the head of the Department of Corrections, the district attorney, the judge, the jury, the Pardon Board, the witnesses to the execution. Nobody feels personally responsible for the death of this man. (p. 101) — Helen Prejean

The warden always seems to know which book to bring. When the sun is gunslinger blue, the warden brings a western. When rain slates against the towers and the world has gone hopeless with gray, it is Bible stories. When the halls ring with the cries of riot and the bars of my own cell rattle with pain, the warden drops a soft book on the floor, solace in its pages: the collected poems of Walt Whitman. And oh, my favorites, like the tastes of childhood. Every few months the warden passes me The White Dawn, and for a few precious days I traverse the open heavens on hard-packed moonlit snow and see the blue splashing arctic lights, and I fill my belly with frozen seal meat and laugh with my Inuit friends. — Rene Denfeld

God loves violence. You understand that, don't you?" "No," Teddy said, "I don't." The warden walked a few steps forward and turned to face Teddy. "Why else would there be so much of it? It's in us. It comes out of us. It is what we do more naturally than we breathe. We wage war. We burn sacrifices. We pillage and tear at the flesh of our brothers. We fill great fields with our stinking dead. And why? To show Him that we've learned from His example. — Dennis Lehane

If one yearns to see the face of the Divine, one must break out of the aquarium, escape the fish farm, to go swim up wild cataracts, dive in deep fjords. One must explore the labyrinth of the reef, the shadows of the lily pads. How limiting, how insulting to think of God as a benevolent warden, an absentee hatchery manager who imprisons us in the 'comfort' of artificial pools, where intermediaries sprinkle our restrictive waters with sanitized flakes of processed nutriment. — Tom Robbins

Because this is a prison, and there's a prison warden pretending to read a book, just to make others think she's an intelligent woman. — Paulo Coelho

A man may have the best of causes, the best of talents, and the best of tempers; he may write as well as Addison, or as strongly as Junius; but even with all this he cannot successfully answer, when attacked by The Jupiter. In such matters it is omnipotent. What the Czar is in Russia, or the mob in America, that The Jupiter is in England. Answer such an article! No, warden; whatever you do, don't do that. — Anthony Trollope

Yo, warden. When do we eat around here? I'm hypoglycemic, plus I've got a hernia. And rabies simplex D. Basically, I need a ton of pills or my arms will fall off. — Kathy Reichs

She'd grown up hearing about epic battles between Guardians and demons, of legendary Wardens and their brave fight to keep the nocturnis at bay. To her, it all had the air of fairy tales, history through the lens of the Brothers Grimm. She listened to the tales the same way she listened to Beowulf, and had the same expectation of ever featuring in one of those famous battles as of facing Grendel's mother in a Scandinavian swamp.
Yet here she was, not just fighting the forces of evil but somehow tied to her very own Guardian, acting for all intents and purposes like the Warden she had once dreamed of becoming. — Christine Warren

What does that word mean?" Cassidy asked. Her voice was soft, sexy. Mind-blowing. "Querida, or whatever you said? I don't speak Spanish."
"It's a term of endearment. An Anglo might say darling or honey."
"What was the other one you used? Me ha?
"Mi ja. Short for mi hija. It's what you say to someone you care about."
She smiled. "When you say that you sound
I don't know
affectionate."
"Maybe I like cats," Diego said.
Cassidy rested her hand on his chest, and her smile widened. "Meow. — Jennifer Ashley

Warden wore his comparatively new tan suit of Forstmann tropical worsted with the saddle-stitched lapels that had cost him $120 tourist prices, and that he saved for great occasions. But all the way into town he was furious with himself for coming. His hand hurt him and was swollen fatly and that also was her fault. He wished furiously he had stayed with Pete and the guys, forgetting how miserable he had been with them. He wished furiously he had left her and the rest of these middle-class society women to the gigolos who were neurotic enough themselves to be able to understand them. He wished furiously a lot of things. Once he even wished furiously he was dead and in hell. He knew then that he was in love.

- From Here to Eternity ; James Jones. — James Jones

You must be Warden Ramirez."
This is the part where I got nervous. Ramirez loved women. Ramirez never shut up about women. Well, he never shut up about anything in general, but he'd go on and on about various conquests and feats of sexual athleticism and
"A virgin?" Lara blurted. Lara blurted. She turned her head to me, grey eyes several shades paler than they had been, and very wide. "Really, Harry, I'm not sure what to say. Is he a present? — Jim Butcher

One of the strangest events, however, happened in the first year of Elizabeth (1558), when dyed Sir Thomas Cheney, Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports, of whom it is reported for a certain, that his pulse did beat more than three quarters of an hour after he was dead, as strongly as if he had been still alive. — William Shakespeare

And here, above the valley of Yarrow, Lord Culter and his brother and twenty men from Midculter in their wedding finery with, thank God, half armour beneath, waited to intercept the English army on its plundering march, with two shepherds, twelve arquebuses, some pikes, some marline twine, a leather pail of powder, shot, matches, some makeshift colours, and eight hundred rusted helmets from the Warden's storehouse at Talla. — Dorothy Dunnett

To me, Hell isn't a place; it's a state of mind. It is a psychological self-imprisonment in which fear is the warden. It is a result of not living in alignment with your goals, dreams, and purpose. It is to find yourself in the endless emotional agony of, What if? — Steve Maraboli

It wasn't the execution per se; except for the warden's bizarre blue shirt, it had seemed as prosaic as getting a tetanus shot or a shingles vaccination. That was actually the horror of it. Something — Stephen King

Aw honey. Today's as important as forever." Grandpa Joe in "Shave and a Haircut" Flash Warden and Other Stories — Eileen Granfors

I spent the day with the pigeons, on a bench in Trafalgar Square, my bag of belongings huddled to my chest in case someone thought of taking them, and a pile of breadcrumbs at my feet. I let the pigeons congregate around me ... Eventually a local warden came up to me and said , "Sir, we ask people not to feed the pigeons," with such an expression of civic determination that I pretense not to understand English. Instead, I listed my way through various "eh?" sounds until, having exhausted his two words of French and three of Spanish, he concluded that since I was neither nationality, I wasn't worth the bother. — Kate Griffin

California, still a magical vanity fair. — Eileen Granfors

Harlan was not a particularly religious man, and had always poured scorn on those whom he termed "God-botherers" - Christian, Jew, or Muslim, he had no time for any of them - but he was, in his way, a deeply spiritual being, worshipping a god whose name was whispered by leaves and praised in birdsong. He had been a warden with the Maine Forest Service for forty years, — John Connolly

This was not a simple case of taking an otherwise normal, well-balanced, rational human being, putting him in a bad situation, and suddenly he turns bad," he said. "I faked it." He explained. The first night was boring. Everyone was just sitting around. "I thought, Someone is spending a lot of money to put this thing on and they're not getting any results. So I thought I'd get some action going." He had just seen the Paul Newman prison movie Cool Hand Luke, in which a sadistic southern prison warden played by Strother Martin persecutes the inmates. So Dave decided to channel him. — Jon Ronson

I have been speaking to you all of your life. In the gurgle of a tide pool, I breathed myself into you. I drew you down from the trees and I lifted you onto your feet. I freed your hands to become your tools so that you would cradle me in my old age, but you have turned on me. My strongest warrior for life, you have been transformed into an insatiable messenger of death. Only a few of my children are still listening when I howl to them, crying in the night, sending the oceans in great surges to cleanse my land -- to cleanse, and to warn you who no longer listen. I WILL BE HEARD. — Sarah Warden

Madness is a matter of perspective, little dreamer. — Samantha Shannon

Nasty thing, a crossbow. How many men you kill with that?"
"Nine." His father counted for at least that many, surely. Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, Shield of Lannisport, Hand of the King, husband, brother, father, father, father. — George R R Martin

Chained in a cell, got my own private hell. Preacher crucifies me, warden wants to fry me. — Alice Cooper

Morrell, ever a true comrade, too had a splendid brain. In fact, and I who am about to die have the right to say it without incurring the charge of immodesty, the three best minds in San Quentin from the Warden down were the three that rotted there together in solitary. And here at the end of my days, reviewing all that I have known of life, I am compelled to the conclusion that strong minds are never docile. The stupid men, the fearful men, the men ungifted with passionate rightness and fearless championship - these are the men who make model prisoners. I thank all gods that Jake Oppenheimer, Ed Morrell, and I were not model prisoners. — Jack London

The weather isn't what you think it is. Not by a long shot.
Weather Warden Joanne Baldwin in Ill Wind — Rachel Caine

Common wisdom affirms against the drinking of whiskey during daylight hours, and while I can see the merits of the argument, it is not one to which I hold. True, a few fingers of liquor, or even a wide-stretched palm, degrades your ability to cope with the world's troubles, miseries and horrors; but it also makes you less concerned about them, and since the world is certain to throw more at you than you can handle regardless, I think it a more than equitable transaction. People call me the Warden.
People call me a lot of things, but the Warden is the only one you could say inside a church. — Daniel Polansky

God is not a celestial prison warden jangling the keys on a bunch of lifers
he's a shepherd seeking for sheep, a woman searching for coins, a father waiting for his son. — Clarence Jordan

And it was understood that Scottish Borderers did not take kindly to outside Wardens. The oustanding example was the unfortunate Frenchman, Anthony Darcy, the Sieur de la Bastie, who in 1516 was ill-advised enough to accept the Wardenry of all the Scottish Marches, with particular responsibility in the east. This was Hume country, and they regarded Darcy with "horrid resentment". He seems to have been a brave, honest and conscientious Warden, which no doubt rendered him all the more odious. The outcome was that the Humes finally caught up with him near Duns, cut off his head, and took it home in triumph, tied by its long locks to a saddle-bow. — George MacDonald Fraser

I met a girl with raven dark hair and eyes the color of emeralds ... — Jay McLean

I did not have all the answers. I did not know if I'd deserved God's grace or wrath, or what would become of me if I ever fled this town.
But I did know how to shoot a gun. - Skylla Warden — Rachael Wade

While writing is like a joyful release, editing is a prison where the bars are my former intentions and the abusive warden my own neuroticism. — Tiffany Madison

your God is the only warden of a prison where the only prisoner is your God. — Jose Saramago

Bubble gum on a turd, Madison! You're a tutti-frutti enforcer. I am a warden. Trust me, I know what I'm doing. — Rebecca Chastain

Not just power," Garrett said, growing excited. "Unimaginable power. According to his prophecies, you will recruit a warrior, a scholar, a prophet, gatekeeper, a warden, and a couple of other figures Dr. von Holstein is still working on. — Darynda Jones

What's the point in answering, Warden? It's obvious that you've already tried and convicted me. If I tell you I am involved, you will believe me guilty. If I tell you I am not involved, you will believe me guilty. The only thing I can do is deny you your precious moral justification. She lifted a hand to her lips and pantomimed turning a key and throwing it away. — Jim Butcher

Individuals get caught up in the policy of their country. In prison, for instance, a warden or officer is not promoted if he doesn't follow the policy of the government - though he himself does not believe in that policy. — Nelson Mandela

Master, I'm afraid. I am, truly. This place scares me. At home, I know who I am, what to do. I'm the Warden's daughter, I know where I stand. But this is a dangerous place, full of pitfalls. All my life, I've known it was waiting for me, but now I'm not sure I can face it. They'll want to absorb me, make me one of them, and I won't change. I won't! I want to stay me."
Jared sighed and she saw his dark gaze was fixed on the veiled window.
"Claudia, you're the bravest person I know. And no one will change you. You will rule here, though it won't be easy ... — Catherine Fisher

She held up three hangers inside a vinyl garment bag and hooked them sideways on the coatrack to unzip. "Raw silk. Vintage. Sort of a purple-black."
"Aubergine," he declared and cracked the opening wider.
"I love a man who can make colors sound dirty." She grinned.
"Cross-dyed." He wondered if Trip had helped pick this out, if he'd seen her model it and convinced her to splurge. "Great suit."
"I gotta stand next to J.R. Ward. Feel me?" She fluttered her short nails at him. "Baby, I went and bought a pair of Givenchy boots I cannot even afford because the Warden is gonna be there in full effect, and you know what that means!"
He didn't really, but he got the gist. "So you want nighttime for daytime."
"Extra vampy, hold the trampy. Like, more Lust For Dracula than Breaking Dawn." Rina squeezed her shoulders together to amp her cleavage. "If I'm hauling the girls out, no way can I do sparkly anorexia. — Damon Suede

His dreamscape sent a tongue of fire across my flowers — Samantha Shannon

Move along," Hines said. "Last room down."
I spotted a fish tank halfway down the aisle. Dug into my pocket.
"Hi," I whispered. "Distraction in five. Four. Three ... "
I broke off as we neared the tank.
Hi spun. "Yo, warden. When do we eat around here? I'm hypoglycemic, plus I've got a hernia. And rabies simplex D. Basically, I need a ton of pills or my arms will fall off."
"Boy, you're on my last nerve."
As Hines glared at Hiram, I palmed the flash drive and dumped it into the fish tank. The yellow-and-black rectangle tumbled to the bottom.
So long, friend. Let's hope Shelton's email went through.
"It's a cultural thing," Hi was saying. "I think you're being very insensitive."
Hines snorted. "Do you want me to cuff you?"
"Kinda."
"Hi." I nodded. — Kathy Reichs

As WArden Lawes once said of convicts, no man can be called a failure until he has tried something he really likes, and fails at it. — Sydney J. Harris

We sat on the dusty floor like that for what felt like hours, our legs intertwined in the kneeling position. Like the demon and the angel reaching for one another on Jet's arm, I felt half of everything. Half pure, half used. Locked in a dark, beautiful embrace. One I wouldn't wish on anyone yet one I wouldn't ever reverse if given the chance.
Not when it had the power to save a life. - Skylla Warden — Rachael Wade

A few years after you disappeared, a postal worker named Ben Carver was sentenced to death for murdering six young men. (He is a homosexual, which, according to Huckleberry, means he is not attracted to murdering young women.) Rumors have it that Carver cannibalized some of his victims, but there was never a trial, so the more salacious details were not made public. I found Carver's name in the sheriff's file ten months ago, the fifth anniversary of your disappearance. The letter was written on Georgia Department of Corrections stationery and signed by the warden. He was informing the sheriff that Ben Carver, a death row inmate, had mentioned to one of the prison guards that he might have some information pertaining to your disappearance. — Karin Slaughter

He wears his pain on his sleeves, and hides his joys in his heart, because he's so damn terrified of losing them. And maybe that's why you clash sometimes, because you're the opposite, Becca. You only share your joy, while you hide your pain. And, maybe, if you can both find a way to balance that, you'll find the coast. — Jay McLean

I'm a golfaholic, no question about that. Counseling wouldn't help me. They'd have to put me in prison, and then I'd talk the warden into building a hole or two and teach him how to play. — Lee Trevino

I thought that you would be frozen in awe when you found the sequence, when you heard a bird's song repeating my Morse code, my cry for help, my S.O.S, when you saw the same numbers in the petals of a flower and the structure of a pine cone, when you saw with your own eyes the interconnectedness of all things.
But I was wrong.
You searched for a male god, a creator, an intelligent designer, or you banished the beauty and mystery of the world beneath the cold concrete grave of closed-eye skepticism. The few of you who could still hear my music felt tortured and misunderstood; you reached out for any conspiracy theory large enough to explain your alienated despair, your sense that the Earth was dying and no one cared.
But listen to me -- you are not alone. Run your fingers through the grass and grab it in your fists, feel my pulse echoing through your blood. You. Are. Not. Alone. And I -- I am not dead yet. — Sarah Warden

- Bill - that was it; Bill, the Chauffeur. That was his name. He was a wretched, primitive man, wholly devoid of the finer instincts and chivalrous promptings of a cultured soul. No, there is no absolute justice, for to him fell that wonder of womanhood, Vesta Van Warden. The grievous-ness of this you will never understand, my grandsons; for you are yourselves primitive little savages, unaware of aught else but savagery. Why — Jack London

He (The warden) was painfully afraid of a disagreement with any person in any subject ... he felt horror at the thought of being made the subject of common gossip and public criticism. — Anthony Trollope

In a face, look for the main light and the main shadow; the rest will come naturally - it's often not important. And then you must cultivate your memory, because Nature will only provide you with references. Nature is like a warden in a lunatic asylum. It stops you from becoming banal. — Edouard Manet

I had always heard rumors of her, Nanook thought, she who can control the wind, the water, the earth, and fire ... she who can talk to time. But those were old myths of a woman who lived many thousands of years ago, the first daughter of the Earth. There is a prophecy that she will return again, during the end times -- every religion has someone like that, someone to wait for and put your faith in, but my culture had mostly covered up her existence. We had a god of the sea, a god of the land, a god of the air, a god of fire, but no one who could control all of the elements. We spoke, only in whispers, of the ancient bloodline -- the descendents of the Great Mother. Too many superstitious minds, too many men concerned only with their own power and position, had heard these whispers in the past and taken gruesome steps to erase the descendents. The lineage was said to be broken, the blood of the Great Mother spilled for the last time. — Sarah Warden

The water near me stirred and then a Sharkface rose up out of it as if on an elevator, slow, his mouth tilted up into a small smile. He stood there on the water perhaps five feet away from me. His eyeless face looked smug.
"Warden," he said.
"Asshat," I replied. — Jim Butcher

When the news of the Scottish find reached Kaniere, forty or fifty miners who had been toiling there for weeks for poor returns decided to cut their losses, buy new licences and make for Kokatahi. In the time that it took them to get to the warden's office at Hokitika and back, the Scottish strike had been talked up into a 'homeward bounder': a discovery so huge that it would change men's lives at a stroke and enable them to return home as rich men. They came up the river in pairs and groups. They — Rose Tremain

The newcomer stood well over six feet, as tall as any Warden. His hair was dark, the color of obsidian, and it reflected blue in the dim light. Lazy locks slipped over his forehead and curled just below his ears. Brows arched over golden eyes and his cheekbones were broad and high. He was attractive. Very attractive. Mind-bendingly beautiful, actually, but the sardonic twist to his full lips chilled his beauty. The black T-shirt stretched across his chest and flat stomach. A huge tattoo of a snake curled around his forearm, the tail disappearing under his sleeve and the diamond-shaped head rested on the top of his hand. He looked my age. Total crush material - if it wasn't for the fact that he had no soul. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

He'd seen this babe before
her many counterparts, that is. He knew her kin, distant and near. All her mamas, sisters, aunts, cousins and what have you. And he knew the name was Lowdown with a capital L. He wasn't at all surprised to find her in a setup like this. Not after encountering her as a warden's sister-in-law, the assistant treasurer of a country bank, and a supervisor of paroles. This babe got around. She was the original square-plug-in-a-round-hole kid. But she never changed any. She had that good old Lowdown blood in her, and the right guy could bring it out. — Jim Thompson

With any word, there are subconscious associations, which simply means that certain words make you think of certain things, even if you don't want to. The word 'cake,' for example, might remind you of your birthday, and the words 'prison warden' might remind you of someone you haven't seen in a very long time. The word 'Beatrice' reminds me of a volunteer organization that was swarming with corruption, and the word 'midnight' reminds me that I must keep writing this chapter very quickly or else I will probably drown. — Lemony Snicket

Morning, ma'am. I'm looking for Tommy Mason. Is he around?" Polite and professional, that was Senior Agent Broussard.
"Lord, what's that no-good sonofabitch done now? Wait, you ain't a cop; you're a game warden. "What'd he do, run over a fish? — Susannah Sandlin

My kid wants to be a prison warden when he grows up so he can put thumb tacks on the electric chairs. — Rodney Dangerfield

In order for prisons to truly serve the public, the people who run them would do well to aspire to the words of Thomas Mott Osborne, the storied warden of New York's Sing Sing Prison in the early part of the twentieth century, who vowed, 'We will turn this prison from a scrap heap into a repair shop. — Piper Kerman

Such kings can destroy a world, just as easily as they can build one. — Sarah Warden

With headlines like "Marry Now or Never," the specter of marriage loomed. It was a constant fear, a threat, a reminder. But Sylvia wasn't baited by those pretty tales of line and hook: the bride-white cake, the prime rib and steak, marriage- that bleak fable- with Husband cast as warden, the future dead clear and blighted. — Elizabeth Winder

I became chairman of the inmates committee. Got into a lot of trouble. Was accused of fomenting a riot. Was accused of plotting to kill the warden. — Clifford Irving

I took four years off after 'In the Cut' because I wanted to see who I'd be without work. I even tried being a hermit in the wilderness in New Zealand. I stayed in a warden's hut two-and-a-half hours off the Routeburn Track through the fjords on the South Island. It was early winter, so there was no electricity or running water. — Jane Campion