Entryway Quotes & Sayings

A lot of time, with stories, I'll start out with a title and try to dream myself into the story that it evokes - a kind of subconscious exercise in which I'm trawling for some kind of entryway into fiction. — Dan Chaon

Yes. He. Was. Just. Here. Spreading his goodwill and love all around Max's entryway. It's a wonder there aren't cherubs flying around sprinkling rose petals and rainbows erupting through the windows, an aftermath of his delightful visit. — Kristen Ashley

Adrenaline pumped through her body as she stopped in the cabin entryway, just a few inches from Scott. His intense expression made her nervous - he looked suspicious. Was she coming on too strong? Flirting was not her specialty. She'd always been much more comfortable using scalpels and microscopes than smiles and sauntering strides. Scott's — Kass Morgan

Look. Folks. It's simple. If you have poor taste in decorating, don't go nuts in the entryway. Wait until your guests are inside before you spring something unusual on them. — James Lileks

Information about time cannot be imparted in a straightforward way. Like furniture, it has to be tipped and tilted to get it through the door. If the past is a solid oak buffet whose legs must be unscrewed and whose drawers must be removed before, in an altered state, it can be upended into the entryway of our minds, then the future is a king-size waterbed that hardly stands a chance, especially if it needs to be brought up in an elevator.
Those billions who persist in perceiving time as the pursuit of the future are continually buying waterbeds that will never make it beyond the front porch or the lobby. And if man's mission is to reside in the fullness of the present, then he's got no space for the waterbed, anyhow, not even if he could lower it through a skylight. — Tom Robbins

There was no part of this house that felt inviting. Paul's cold, calculating hand could be seen behind every choice. The concrete on the entryway floor was polished to a dark mirror straight out of Snow White. The spiral stairs looked like a robot's asshole. The endless white walls made Lydia feel like she was trapped inside a straightjacket. The sooner she was out of here the better. — Karin Slaughter

Hey Charlotte," Julianne yelled. "Hell must have frozen over!" And then in a quieter voice she added, "Charlotte was hoping it would."
"What?" Colton asked.
I sprinted the rest of the way to the door. As I rounded the corner I saw both Wesley and Colton in the entryway. Julianne stood in front of them transfixed, staring up at Colton with adoring eyes.
"Julianne, it's time for you to go to your room," I said. "Right now."
"Do you really know the devil?" she asked Colton. "Have you ever been to hell?"
"Sometimes I think I have," he answered, glaring at me. — Janette Rallison

Abby took the box, and then tugged on my hand until we were in the entryway. It smelled like a combination of cleaner, candles, and kids. It smelled like home. — Jamie McGuire

When I stepped into the brown-tiled entryway of the Kentwood Public Library, the sunlight flowing down on me from the high windows, I felt a sense of importance. It gratified me to be in a place devoted to books and quiet; I was filled with a sense of hope. Reading to me was fundamental, as fundamental as food. And nothing could be more satisfying than reading a good book while eating a good meal of mi soup, french fries, and a thin cut of steak. I plowed through books as fast as possible in order to read them again. — Bich Minh Nguyen

But here's the thing I've learned about leaving- you can't really go back. I don't know what to do with Cooley Ridge anymore, and Cooley Ridge doesn't know what to do with me, either. The distance only increases with the years. Most times, if I tried to shift it back into focus...all I'd see was a caricature of it in my mind: a miniature town set up on entryway tables around the holidays, everything frozen in time. — Megan Miranda

Andrew just shrugged, and I fiddled with the napkin in my lap while glancing idly around the restaurant. The obligatory mirrors hung on the walls, and there was one of those fountains with fake lily pads in the entryway. The restaurant was also lit like a mine shaft. I've never understood why dim lighting is supposed to be so romantic. Night vision belongs into a Paris Hilton sex tape - not in a restaurant that could potentially poison me with peanut sauce. — Alicia Thompson

So, whose man parts are you setting on fire?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow....
"No one. I was just telling Belle about how I need to lose my virginity."
Aaaaand, that did it. He froze, his arm dropping from Belle's shoulders as he took a not very subtle step toward the entryway. "I need to get the door."
She picked up her tulip-shaped glass, fighting a grin. "I didn't hear the doorbell. — Katie Reus

Do you ... still believe?'
'Our very presence here, a Polynesian goddess sitting next to a Zulu thunder god, listening to the song of a Greek siren, should be proof enough that religions can and do coexist.' He looked back at the cross over the entryway. 'And I still do not know. — Karsten Knight

This time Magnus answered it, his voice booming through the tiny entryway. "WHO DARES DISTURB MY REST?"
Jace looked almost nervous. "Jace Wayland. Remember? I'm from the Clave."
"Oh, yes." Magnus seemed to have perked up. "Are you the one with the blue eyes?"
"He means Alec," Clary said helpfully.
"No. My eyes are usually described as golden," Jace told the intercom. "And luminous."
"Oh, you're that one." Magnus sounded disappointed. If Clary hadn't been so upset, she would have laughed. "I suppose you'd better come up. — Cassandra Clare

Alec took a deep breath and let it out. Well, he'd come this far; he might as well go on. The bare lightbulb hanging overhead cast sweeping shadows as he reached forward and pressed the buzzer.
A moment later a voice echoed through the stairwell. "WHO CALLS UPON THE HIGH WARLOCK?"
"Er," Alec said. "It's me. I mean, Alec. Alec Lightwood."
There was a sort of silence, as if even the hallway itself were surprised. Then a ping, and the second door opened, letting him out onto the stairwell. He headed up the rickety stairs into the darkness, which smelled like pizza and dust. The second floor landing was bright, the door at the far end open. Magnus Bane was leaning in the entryway. — Cassandra Clare

Wow! So how Solomon's ushers dressed mattered? How the building was built mattered? How the greeters greeted mattered? How the entryway was organized mattered? You better believe it! To this queen, they were all evidence that validated the reality of God at work in Solomon's temple. Notice it says she "had seen all the wisdom of Solomon." How do you "see" wisdom? Every aspect of the temple and its people were managed and trained to create this impression. She was convinced before she even heard Solomon speak. She goes on . . . How the entryway was organized mattered? To this queen, they were all evidence that validated the reality of God at work in Solomon's temple. "However I did not believe the words until — Richard L. Reising

In the cave's innermost entryway, a band of four stood tall and thick, shouldered and heavily weaponed.
Members of the Brotherhood.
He knew this quartet by name: Ahgony, Throe, Murhder, Tohrture. — J.R. Ward