Flew Up Quotes & Sayings

The world is what it is; men who are nothing, who allow themselves to become nothing, have no place in it ...
It wasn't only the sand drifts and the mud and the narrow, winding, broken roads up in the mountains. There was all that business at the frontier posts, all that haggling in the forest outside wooden huts that flew strange flags. I had to talk myself and my Peugeot past the men with guns
just to drive through bush and more bush. And then I had to talk even harder, and shed a few more bank notes and give away more of my tinned food, to get myself
and the Peugeot
out of the places I had talked us into.
Some of these palavers could take half a day ... — V.S. Naipaul

Then he removed his spectacles, and everyone in the bar gasped. He took off his hat, and with a violent gesture tore at his whiskers and bandages. For a moment they resisted him. A flash of horrible anticipation passed through the bar. "Oh, my Gard!" said some one. Then off they came. It was worse than anything. Mrs. Hall, standing open-mouthed and horror-struck, shrieked at what she saw, and made for the door of the house. Everyone began to move. They were prepared for scars, disfigurements, tangible horrors, but nothing! The bandages and false hair flew across the passage into the bar, making a hobbledehoy jump to avoid them. Everyone tumbled on everyone else down the steps. For the man who stood there shouting some incoherent explanation, was a solid gesticulating figure up to the coat-collar of him, and then - nothingness, no visible thing at all! — H.G.Wells

As he yanked the cushions off the sofa, the tube of Vaseline flew onto the floor. Both Carter and Martin stared at it for a moment, then Martin blushed, snatching it up. "I have dry skin. — Marshall Thornton

Sometimes work was just what you clocked into while you were falling in love. Sometimes sex was just something you did while you weren't at work. Drugs were something you did sometimes when you couldn't deal with one of those things, or with yourself. The City was so expensive and so grueling sometimes that it was easy to be unsure why you were there. Many were there to make money, money that could largely only be made there, in the long spiny arms of industries that could never grow anywhere else or anywhere smaller. Some people just liked it, its loudness and crowdedness and surprises. Some started there for a reason and then couldn't imagine being anywhere else, but maybe lost track of that reason along the way. Some people had a plan. Some were just chancing it. Either way the months flew by, and over the years you came up with something or you came up with not much. — Choire Sicha

A breeze flew through, picking up some leaves and swirling them around, the sound like fluttering pages in a quiet library. — Sarah Addison Allen

My arms flew up of thier own accord knoking my bag down. I grabbed hold of the desk to keep myself from falling down. — Wendy Mass

He picked her up and tossed her on the bed.
They had a hell of a time.
But afterward, after she had gone back to her own room, depression came to him and what had seemed like such a hell of a time became distasteful, even a little disgusting. It was the depression of surfeit, the tail of selfindulgence's kit. You flew high, wide, and handsome, imposing on the breeze that might have wafted you along indefinitely; and then it was gone, and down, down, down you went. — Jim Thompson

Another fairy flew up, carrying a spear and wearing a helmet and not much else. I thought about asking why he had armor on his head and not his balls, but I didn't think that was proper etiquette while being held prisoner by the Dark Woods fairies. — T.J. Klune

With that, Quincy brought the bowie knife down on Moon's cuffed hand and chopped off four fingers which flew up before my eyes like chips from a log. Moon screamed and a rifle ball shattered the lantern in front of me and struck Quincy in the neck, causing hot blood to spurt on my face. My thought was: I am better out of this. — Charles Portis

They have come across an aspect of product performance about a brand that is startlingly impressive: that a Land Rover is designed to be able to drive 4,000 miles continually off-road, for example; that the airline I flew in on this morning had a masseuse on the plane that gave me a neck massage when I woke up; or that an ice cream that was forced upon me last night contained preposterously large chunks of Toffee Chocolate Fudge. — Adam Morgan

It's them!" screamed Hermione.
Tonks landed in a long skid that sent earth and pebbles everywhere.
"Remus!" Tonks cried as she staggered off the broom into Lupin's arms. His face was set and white: He seemed unable to speak. Ron tripped dazedly toward Harry and Hermione.
"You're okay," he mumbled, before Hermione flew at him and hugged him tightly.
"I thought--I thought--"
"'M all right," said Ron, patting her on the back. "'M fine."
"Ron was great," said Tonks warmly, relinquishing her hold on Lupin. "Wonderful. Stunned one of the Death Eaters, straight to the head, and when you're aiming at a moving target from a flying broom--"
"You did?" said Hermione, gazing up at Ron with her arms still around his neck.
"Always the tone of surprise," he said a little grumpily, breaking free. — J.K. Rowling

I can't stop watching 'Pan Am.' When I was growing up, my father worked as an engineer in Turkey, and we always flew Pan Am. The stewardesses were so glamorous! When they gave me a set of those golden wings, I felt very grown-up. Not only is the show's plot full of mystery and infidelity, they get the period details just right. — Gayle King

A belligerent samurai, an old Japanese tale goes, once challenged a Zen master to explain the concept of heaven and hell. The monk replied with scorn, "You're nothing but a lout - I can't waste my time with the likes of you!"
His very honor attacked, the samurai flew into a rage and, pulling his sword from its scabbard, yelled "I could kill you for your impertinence."
"That," the monk calmly replied, "is hell."
Startled at seeing the truth in what the master pointed out about the fury that had him in its grip, the samurai calmed down, sheathed his sword, and bowed, thanking the monk for the insight.
"And that,"said the monk "is heaven."
The sudden awakening of the samurai to his own agitated state illustrates the crucial difference between being caught up in a feeling and becoming aware that you are being swept away by it. Socrates's injunction "Know thyself" speaks to the keystone of emotional intelligence: awareness of one's own feelings as they occur. — Daniel Goleman

The accusing spirit, which flew up to heaven's chancery with the oath, blushed as he gave it in; and the recording angel as he wrote it down dropped a tear upon the word and blotted it out forever. — Laurence Sterne

I called my pilot 2 weeks before I flew and asked him, I don't want to get sick, what should I eat? He said, Peanut Butter. I said, If I eat peanut butter then I won't get sick? He said, no, but it tastes the same comin' up as it does goin' down. — Bill Engvall

Sometimes, in the course of my hopeless quest, I would pick up and dip into one of the ordinary books that lay strewn around the castle. Whenever I did, it seemed so insipid and insubstantial that I flew into a rage and hurled it at the wall after reading the first few sentences. I was spoilt for any other form of literature, and the mental torment I endured was comparable to the agony of unrequited love compounded by the withdrawal symptoms associated with a severe addiction. — Walter Moers

Suddenly pressing both hands on her heart, she fell to the ground, and the mist rose from her and melted in the air. I ran to her. But she began to writhe in such torture that I stood aghast. A moment more and her legs, hurrying from her body, sped away serpents. From her shoulders fled her arms as in terror, serpents also. Then something flew up from her like a bat, and when I looked again, she was gone. — George MacDonald

Don't lose your head, screamed the pheasant. And at the same time his voice broke in a whistling gasp and, spreading his wings, he flew up with a loud whir. Bambi watched how he flew straight up, directly between the trees, beating his wings. The dark metallic blue and greenish-brown marking son his body gleamed like gold. His long tail feathers swept proudly behind him. A short crash like thunder sounded sharply. The pheasant suddenly crumpled up in mid-flight. — Felix Salten

I'm sorry about the trouble, Karen," he said, loud and clear, so everyone could hear how reasonable he was being.
She scowled up at him, eyes narrowed. Her arm flew almost faster than I could see. The smack of flesh against flesh was loud in the silence, and a small red handprint stood out starkly on his left cheek. "You have no idea how sorry you're going to be. — Rachel Vincent

The dragon flew up and settled in the crook of Mina's hood, and quickly became invisible again.
"I don't trust that thing," Jared shot back.
"Relax, I find him quite cute. Isn't that right, Ander?" She held up a finger and felt the invisible dragon rub its face against her.
"Great, you've named it, now you're gonna want to keep it. But I'm telling you that thing better be house-trained." He turned to the bookshelf and began to pull open the book to open the hidden exit door.
Mina felt Ander leave her shoulder but didn't let Jared know he was missing. She saw Constance's teacup float mysteriously above Jared's head. She clapped her hand over her mouth to contain the laughter. A second later the cup turned over, spilling lukewarm tea on Jared's unsuspecting head.
"Oh, it better not have just peed on me!" he screamed. — Chanda Hahn

they gave him power to fly was this: They all tickled him on the shoulder, and soon he felt a funny itching in that part and then up he rose higher and higher and flew away out of the Gardens and over the house-tops. It — J.M. Barrie

Who's they?" He wanted to know. "Who, specifically, do you think is trying to murder you?"
"Every one of them," Yossarian told him.
"Every one of whom?"
"Every one of whom do you think?"
"I haven't any idea."
"Then how do you know they aren't?"
"Because ... " Clevinger sputtered, and turned speechless with frustration.
Clevinger really thought he was right, but Yossarian had proof, because strangers he didn't know shot at him with cannons every time he flew up into the air to drop bombs on them, and it wasn't funny at all. — Joseph Heller

She was breathing hard, and deep circles of red burned high on her bright cheeks; in all my life I had never seen anyone so maddeningly beautiful as she was at that moment. I stood blinking stupidly at her, the blood pounding in my veins, and my carefully rehearsed plans for a goodbye kiss forgotten, when unexpectedly she flew up and threw her arms around me. Her hoarse breath was loud in my ear and her cheek was like ice when she put it against mine a moment later; when I took her gloved hand, I felt the quick pulse of her slender wrist beneath my thumbs. — Donna Tartt

I went down to Venezuela and ended up renting a helicopter and flew with my sons to the tops of the tepuis, these freestanding jungle mesas, 'lost worlds' as it were. In fact, it's almost impossible to access them without one. So we were able to land and spend some time there. We were trapped for about six hours by clouds that came in. — Harrison Ford

Monroe had in fact preached that God was not at all such a one as ourselves, not one to be temperamentally inclined to tread ragefully upon us until our blood flew up and stained all His white raiment, but rather that He looked on both the best and worst of mankind with weary, bemused pity. — Charles Frazier

Day watched God close his eyes and push with enough force to breach him with just his head. "Ugh!" Day's mouth flew open. Dammit, God's cock head was bigger than he thought. God pressed his body into his and tilted his hips forward. Day brought his legs up higher to open himself up more to quench the fierce burning in his ass. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Breathe. God's face was buried in the crook of his neck and his body shook against him. "Jesus, Leo," God hissed. "Cash," Day said, his moans like a cry. "Almost there, sweetheart." God pushed in deeper and Day grabbed at his hips to stop him. "Ugh. Fuck, you're fucking big," Day groaned. — A.E. Via

And speaking of Terms, we need to set a few ground rules here with ... this," he said, clearing his throat and gesturing at the two of them.
"With what?" Lex said.
"That," Uncle Mort replied, pointing to a suspicious-looking mark on her neck.
Lex's hand flew to her throat while Driggs shifted, uneasy.
"Why?" he asked.
"Don't 'why?' me, Romeo. You know I trust you, but Lex is still my niece. In the absence of her father, it's up to me to do everything in my power to complicate and interfere with her budding love life."
Lex frowned. "Hey- — Gina Damico

I figured we could just be friends, you know?" His voice was low and throaty as he added, "No harm in that, right?" He shook his head as he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes before running them up through his hair. His eyes flew open, but they were bleary and unfocused. "But every time I talk to you, I like you more and more, and every time I see you ... . it's so fucking hard, Leah. — Priscilla Glenn

One foggy night I was walking the dogs down the lane and heard the geese, very close overhead, calling, calling, their marvellous strange cry, as they flew by. I think that is what our own best prayer must sound like when we send it up to heaven. — Madeleine L'Engle

For suddenly above him far and faint his song was taken up, and a voice answering called to him. Maedhros it was that sang amid his torment. But Fingon climbed to the foot of the precipice where his kinsman hung; and then he could go no farther, and he wept when he saw the cruel device of Morgoth. Maedhros therefore, being in anguish without hope, begged Fingon to shoot him with his bow; and Fingon strung an arrow, and bent his bow. And seeing no better hope he cried to Manwe, saying: 'O King to whom birds are dear, speed now this feathered shaft, and recall some pity for the Noldor in their need!' ... Now, even as Fingon bent his bow, there flew down from the high airs Thorondor, King of Eagles, mightiest of all birds that have ever been, whose outstretched wings spanned thirty fathoms; and staying Fingon's hand he took him up, and bore him to the face of the rock where Maethros hung. — J.R.R. Tolkien

[Note: Brahma originally had five heads. He and Vishnu were once contesting each other's superiority. Just then a huge column of light appeared in front of them and they wondered what it was. They agreed that he who found either end of the column earlier would be the greater of the two. Vishnu became a boar and sought the bottom; Brahma became a swan and flew up towards the top. Vishnu returned disappointed. Brahma at the point of despair came across a falling screwpine flower. He stopped its descent and asked from where it was coming. All that it knew was that it was falling from space and nothing more. Brahma persuaded it to bear false witness and claimed superiority over his rival. Siva was enraged, snipped off that head which spoke the lie, and declared himself as the column of light.] — Sri Dattatreya

First smile!! An unseasonal little shower of rain fell here, and a lot of butterflies drowned, so we put them in the sun and they came back to life, and flew up and then Agaat SMILED! — Marlene Van Niekerk

They gulped, those stupid birds; they ate from the bag and they swallowed with glee. And they choked on giant mouthfuls of my shit. My shit! Oh, the looks on their faces! The stunned silence. The indignation! The shaking of heads, and then they flew off en masse to the neighbour up the street with the dribbling fountain so they could wash their beaks. — Garth Stein

The [bowling] ball flew out jerkily, sailed about four feet, hit the lane with a loud crack, and then promptly entered the gutter. Roman walked up beside me, and we silently watched the ball complete its journey.
'Are you always that rough with balls?' he asked finally.
'Most men don't complain. — Richelle Mead

You can dance.
You can make me laugh.
You've got x-ray eyes.

You know how to sing.
You're a diplomat.
You've got it all.
Everybody loves you.

You can charm the birds out of the sky, But I, I've got
one thing.

You always know just what to say
And when to go,
But I've got one thing.

You can see in the dark,
But I've got one thing:
I loved you better.

Last night I woke up,
Saw this angel.
He flew in my window.
And he said,
Girl, pretty proud of yourself, huh?" And I looked around and said,
Who me?"
And he said, "The higher you fly, the faster you fall."

He said, "Send it up.
Watch it rise.
See it fall,
Gravity's rainbow.
Send it up.
Watch it rise.
See it fall,
Gravity's Angel. — Laurie Anderson

The Nix, she said, was a spirit of the water who flew up and down the coastline looking for children, especially adventurous children out walking alone. When it found one, the Nix would appear to the child as a large white horse. Unsaddled, but friendly and tame. It bowed down as low as a horse was able, so the kid could leap onto it. At — Nathan Hill

A Thunderstorm In Town
She wore a 'terra-cotta' dress,
And we stayed, because of the pelting storm,
Within the hansom's dry recess,
Though the horse had stopped; yea, motionless
We sat on, snug and warm.
Then the downpour ceased, to my sharp sad pain,
And the glass that had screened our forms before
Flew up, and out she sprang to her door:
I should have kissed her if the rain
Had lasted a minute more. — Thomas Hardy

Her spirit flew out into the night
And the sky reached down
And drew her up,
And she was filled with light ...
And she is happy. — Audrey Niffenegger

Basically, my parents messed up because it was the Sixties, and they both had affairs, but they had a great love for each other. I saw that when my father flew over from Los Angeles when he knew my mother was going to die. — Saffron Aldridge

When I was very young, most of my childhood heroes wore capes, flew through the air, or picked up buildings with one arm. They were spectacular and got a lot of attention. But as I grew, my heroes changed, so that now I can honestly say that anyone who does anything to help a child is a hero to me. — Fred Rogers

Those fake blue eyes stared back, mocking me. At least the tears didn't show. Thank God. Instead, they ducked back into my eyelids as I tucked my sadness back into my core ... The more my mind flew off in one direction, the more my sanity shattered into pieces that no one could sweep up and glue back together. — Kenya Wright

My legion!" Stanley said. "I have achieved an even greater level of mastery! Behold!" He held up his beer mug and pointed the open end toward a nearby palm tree. "Mulciber!" he yelled.
Nothing happened. He shook the beer mug, and held it out once more. "Mulciber!" Once again he intoned the word, but with a slightly different emphasis. Again nothing happened.
"Damn. Mulciber! Mulciber! Mulciber!" Suddenly a large ball of fire erupted from the end of the beer mug, nearly singed Stanley's eyebrows, and flew up into the sky in a large, fiery arc, eventually plunging with a sizzle into the lake. — Abramelin Keldor

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace, Where never the lark, nor even eagle flew- And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod The high, untrespassed sanctity of space, Put out my hand and touched the face of God. — Dizzy Gillespie

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky. So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, with the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too. — Clement Clarke Moore

Certain movies like 'Wag The Dog,' we used improv on every scene that we did. Pretty much, we would shoot from the script and then some stuff that we came up with in rehearsal, and then we'd have at least one or two takes where we completely went off the script and just flew by the seat of our pants. — Denis Leary

After the week at the Fillmore we flew down to L.A. to hang out and pick up whatever gigs we could. We did a gig in Santa Barbara on July 1st and then the next night we opened for Sam & Dave at the Whisky ... — Mitch Mitchell

living, we cover vast territories; imagine your life drawn on a map - a scribble where you grew up, each bus trip traced between school and home, or a clean line across the sea to a place you flew once. think of the time and things we accumulate, all the while growing more conscious of losing and leaving — Julia Kasdorf

Divided, cut up by borders, frontiers, fences and prohibitions, our wretched planet flew on, spinning into the icy emptiness of space, toward the sharp pinpoints of those stars --and nowhere on its surface was there a place where someone was not keeping someone else behind bars; where one lot of prisoners, helped by other prisoners, was not guarding a third set of prisoners --and themselves-- against the risk of taking an undesirable, lethally dangerous gulp of the bright blue air of freedom. — Georgi Vladimov

She was the first to discover that wood, gone green with decay, can be made, at some expense, into little boxes; she went into the question of funguses; she painted on china; emblazoned heraldic arms, and, attaching whistles to the tails of pigeons, produced wonderful effects "as of an aerial orchestra" when they flew through the air. To the Duchess of Somerset belongs the credit of investigating the proper way of cooking guinea pigs; but Lady Dorothy was one of the first to serve up a dish of these little creatures at luncheon in Charles Street. — Virginia Woolf

Very well. He'd lighten up. As a matter of fact, he felt as light as the bubbly froth that flew from the lips of the waves. Whatever else his long, unprecedented life might have been, it had been fun. Fun! If others should find that appraisal shallow, frivolous, so be it. To him, it seemed now to largely have been some form of play. And he vowed that in the future he would strive to keep that sense of play more in mind, for he'd grown convinced that play
more than piety, more than charity or vigilance
was what allowed human beings to transcend evil. — Tom Robbins

A nurse's aid threw the contents of a patient's water glass out a window, the mass of water hitting the ground dislodging a pebble which rolled across the angled pavement and fell with a click on a stone culvert in the ditch below, startling a squirrel having at some sort of nut right there on the concrete pipe, causing the squirrel to run up the nearest tree, in doing which it disturbed a slender brittle branch and surprised a few nervous morning birds, of of which, preparatory to flight released a black-and-white glob of droppings, which glob fell neatly on the windshield of the tiny car of one Lenore Beadsman, just as she pulled into a parking space. Lenore got out of the car while birds flew away, making sounds. — David Foster Wallace

I'm so exhausted with worry, I go to bed early that day. But hours later, I'm still awake. I can't seem to fall asleep. Not without him by my side. When did I become so addicted to Jake? Why do I crave his company? Since forever, my conscience responds. After my father's death, I went off the deep end because he was not there. I sought the BDSM lifestyle, not because I yearned for it, but because I wanted the pain. If Jake had been there, somehow I could have muddled through the aftermath of my father's funeral without looking for someone to tie me up and administer punishment. I wanted to be beaten as an outlet for my agony. Not that it made any difference. Even after I flew to Brazil, the pain was still there. It still is. And I know why. Because he's not by my side. As much as I want him to be here with me, he never signed on to babysit me for life. — Magda Alexander

The crumpled butcherpaper mountains lay in sharp shadowfold under the long blue dusk and in the middle distance the glazed bed of a dry lake lay shimmering like the mare imbrium and herds of deer were moving north in the last of the twilight, harried over the plain by wolves who were themselves the color of the desert floor. Glanton sat his horse and looked long out upon this scene. Sparse on the mesa the dry weeds lashed in the wind like the earth's long echo of lance and spear in old encounters forever unrecorded. All the sky seemed troubled and night came quickly over the evening land and small gray birds flew crying softly after the fled sun. He chucked up the horse. He passed and so passed all into the problematical destruction of darkness. — Cormac McCarthy

One night, walking along 8th Street in the East Village, I saw some adolescent boys, out too late and unattended. They were playing an arcade video game set up on the sidewalk, piloting a digital spacecraft through starlit infinity, blasting everything in their path to bits. Now and then, the machine would let out a robotic shout of encouragement: You're doing great! So the urchins flew on through the make-believe nothingness, destroying whatever they saw, hypnotized by the mechanical praise that stood in for the human voice of love. That, it seemed to me, was postmodernism in a nutshell. It ignored the full spiritual reality of life all around it in order to blow things apart inside a man-made box that only looked like infinity. You're doing great, intellectuals! You're doing great. Much — Andrew Klavan

Don't!" Lillian yelled, and put up her arms when Shane pulled back the bat.
"Hell," Shane spat in disgust. "I can't hit a girl. Here, Claire. You hit her." He tossed her the bat. Claire grabbed it and came to a clumsy batting stance, wishing she'd paid more attention in phys ed. Lillian screamed again and ran into the open doorway of Eve's room. Eve, coming up the stairs, screamed, too, for different reasons.
"Hey! That's my room, bitch!" And she flew in to grab Lillian by the hair, swing her around, and throw her out into the hall, then shoved her toward the stairs. "Michael! This one needs to go out! — Rachel Caine

Feathers," he says.

They ask this question at least once a week. He gives the same answer. Even over such a short time - two months, three? He's lost count - they've accumulated a stock of lore, of conjecture about him: Snowman was once a bird but he's forgotten how to fly and the rest of his feathers fell out, and so he is cold and he needs a second skin, and he has to wrap himself up. No: he's cold because he eats fish, and fish are cold. No: he wraps himself up because he's missing his man thing, and he doesn't want us to see. That's why he won't go swimming. Snowman has wrinkles because he once lived underwater and it wrinkled up his skin. Snowman is sad because the others like him flew away over the sea, and now he is all alone. — Margaret Atwood

There was another pause, and Gansey realized she'd hung up. He leaned back against the fridge, eyes closed, guilty, comforted, wild, contained. In twenty-four hours, he'd be waiting for this again.
You know better you know better you know better
"What the hell, man?" Ronan said.
Gansey's eyes flew open just as Ronan hit the lights. He stood in the doorway, headphones looped around his neck, Chainsaw hulking like a tender thug on his shoulder. Ronan's eyes found the phone by Gansey's leg, but he didn't ask, and Gansey didn't say anything. Ronan would hear a lie in a second, and the truth wasn't an option. Jealousy had ruined Ronan for the first several months of Adam's introduction into their group; this would hurt him more than that. — Maggie Stiefvater

JAMES HALE sat at a side-street noodle-stall. The stall was set-up underneath the shade of a row of fruit trees. He watched a pair of pigeons courting beneath a fig tree. The male's tail feathers were pushed up in self-promotion and his plumage was arrogantly puffed up. He danced his elaborate dance of love. The female didn't look impressed. She turned her back to him. Birds were like gangster rappers, Hale thought. They sang songs about how tough they were and how many other birds they'd nested. They were egomaniacs with inferiority complexes. Posers in a leafy street. The bastards flew at the first sign of danger. They couldn't make it on the ground. Hale hated birds with their merry chirps and their flimsy nests. Tweet. Tweet. Fucking. Tweet. The only thing Hale admired about them was the fact that they could fly. That would be cool. Right now, flying would be good. — James A. Newman

Climbing up on Solsbury Hill
I could see the city light
Wind was blowing, time stood still
Eagle flew out of the night
He was something to observe
Came in close, I heard a voice
Standing stretching every nerve
I had to listen, had no choice — Peter Gabriel

I sat belonely

I sat belonely down a tree,
humbled fat and small.
A little lady sing to me
I couldn't see at all.

I'm looking up and at the sky,
to find such wondrous voice.
Puzzly puzzle, wonder why,
I hear but have no choice.

'Speak up, come forth, you ravel me',
I potty menthol shout.
'I know you hiddy by this tree'.
But still she won't come out.

Such softly singing lulled me sleep,
an hour or two or so
I wakeny slow and took a peep
and still no lady show.

Then suddy on a little twig
I thought I see a sight,
A tiny little tiny pig,
that sing with all it's might.

'I thought you were a lady'.
I giggle, - well I may,
To my suprise the lady,
got up - and flew away. — John Lennon

Pain lanced through his neck. He gasped and his eyes flew open; Simon was sitting up on him, staring down with wide eyes, his hand across his own mouth. Simon's wounds were gone, though fresh blood stained the front of his shirt.
Jace could feel the pain of his bruised shoulders again, the slash across his wrist, his punctured throat. He could no longer hear his heart beating, but he knew it was slamming away inside his chest.
Simon took his hand away from his mouth. The fangs were gone. "I could have killed you," he said. There was a sort of pleading in his voice.
"I would have let you," said Jace. — Cassandra Clare

... by treating nature as exterior and inferior to humans we saw no harm to ourselves in polluting the soil, the plants, the air and the water. We did not notice the effect of our pollution on whatever walked over it, ran across it, climbed up it, flew through it, or swam in it.

Now we notice that harming other constituents of our planetary system brings harm to ourselves. — Betty Jean Craige

Are you not afraid of death?'
I am not in the least afraid! ... I would rather die than drink that bitter medicine.'
At that moment the door of the room flew open, and four rabbits as black as ink entered carrying on their shoulders a little bier.
What do you want with me?' cried Pinocchio, sitting up in bed in a great fright.
We are come to take you,' said the biggest rabbit.
To take me? ... But I am not yet dead! ... '
No, not yet: but you have only a few minutes to live, as you have refused the medicine that would have cured you of the fever.'
Oh, Fairy, Fairy!' the puppet then began to scream, 'give me the tumbler at once ... be quick, for pity's sake, for I will not die
no ... I will not die ... — Carlo Collodi

One time I dropped a fly ball in Milwaukee and, after the game, the writers asked me what happened. I told them, 'Well, I was looking up and a UFO flew right across. It was weird. I never saw anything like that in my life.' Man, I was only joking and they wrote it up and put it in the paper. — Jesse Barfield

Words played an important part in my growing up. Not only the written word ... but words that flew through the air: jokes, riddles, puns. — James Howe

Corran: "I thought Commander Antilles was in that TIE. I mean it had to be someone as good as him to get you three"
Nawara: "Apparently he is that good"
Rhysati: "He flew circles around me"
Ooryl: "At least you saw him. He caught Ooryl as Ooryl fixed on his wingman. Ooryl is free hydrogen in simspace. That man is very good."
Corran: "Sure, but who is he?"
Rhysati: "What difference does it make who he is?"
Corran: "Rhys, he shot up three of our best pilots, had me dead in space, and he says he's a bit RUSTY! — Michael A. Stackpole

Did you hear the one about the funeral procession?

Well, this funeral procession was goin' up the hill to the church and the back door of the hearse flew open and out shoots the casket and, blametty blam, down the hill it goes through the intersection with horns blowin' and people dodgin' out of the way, and it runs on down the street and jumps up on the sidewalk and busts in through the pharmacy door and shoots down the aisle to the druggist and the lid pops up and this guy sits up and says: 'Got anything to stop this coffin? — Jan Karon

He inhaled sharply. "I'm glad to have you back."

I nodded, swallowing thickly. "I'm glad to be back."

"Hell, we all can agree on that." Luke picked up a donut. "There's nothing creepier than having a psychotic Apollyon caged in the basement."

"Ha," I said.

Luke winked and then tossed the donut to me. I caught it. Sugar flew everywhere.

"Or waiting for her to break loose and run amuck," Deacon added as I took a bite. He glanced across the table. "Or waiting for someone, no names mentioned, to not listen to us and go say hi."

Olivia's cheeks reddened as she stood. She approached slowly, waited for me to finish chewing. I started to apologize. "I'm really sorry - "

She socked me in the stomach. Hard. I doubled over, gasping for air. "Gods. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I hit him as hard as I could. His hands were full of my belongings, and every time I punched him he dropped something. I slugged him and my camera popped out; I hit him again and there was my money belt; another punch and my shorts flew up in the air. — Peter Hessler

The cycle hit the beach and spun out. Emma went into a rolling crouch as she flew free of it, keeping her elbows in, pushing the air hard out of her lungs. She turned her head as she hit the sand, slapping her palms down to roll herself forward, absorbing the impact of the fall through her arms and shoulders, her knees folding up into her chest. The stars wheeled crazily overhead as she spun, sucking in her breath as her body slowed its rolling. She came to a stop on her back, her hair and clothes full of sand and her ears full of the sound of the wildly crashing ocean ... — Cassandra Clare

I've been out there 3 days and I got shot at 3 times,
Felt like every bullet hit me when they flew out each 9.
I'll be happy when I wake up and I have a free mind. — Lil Herb

To harden the earth the rocks took charge: instantly they grew wings: the rocks that soared: the survivors flew up the lightning bolt, screamed in the night, a watermark, a violet sword, a meteor. The succulent sky had not only clouds, not only space smelling of oxygen, but an earthly stone flashing here and there changed into a dove, changed into a bell, into immensity, into a piercing wind: into a phosphorescent arrow, into salt of the sky. — Pablo Neruda

Tomas turned the key and switched on the ceiling light. Teraza saw two beds pushed together, one of them flanked by a bedside table and a lamp. Up out of the lampshade, startled by the overhead light, flew a large nocturnal butterfly that began circling the room. The strains of the piano and violin rose up weakly from below. — Milan Kundera

A strong hand suddenly grasped my arm above the elbow. My eyes flew open in surprise. It was that hateful, arrogant man from earlier, standing a few steps below me. He looked at me with a strange expression on his face. It almost looked like ... concern. What did he want? I tried to ask him, but the walls were falling in on me again. I closed my eyes tightly. "I think you're about to faint," a low voice said. Whose voice was it? It was too nice to belong to that man. I shook my head and said weakly, "I don't faint." And then darkness rushed up while I swooped down. We met in the middle and it swallowed me whole. — Julianne Donaldson

Democritus believed that the soul was made up of special round, smooth 'soul atoms.' When a human being died, the soul atoms flew in all directions, and could then become part of a new soul formation. — Jostein Gaarder

His name was Anderson and he had little gift for communication. Like most technicians, he had a
terror and a contempt for speculation. The inductive leap was not for him. He dug a step and pulled himself up one single step, the way a man climbs the last shoulder of a mountain. He had great contempt, born of fear, for the Hamiltons, for they all half believed they had wings - and they got some bad falls that way.
Anderson never fell, never slipped back, never flew. His steps moved slowly, slowly upward, and in the end, it is said, he found what he wanted - color film. He married Una, perhaps, because she had little humor, and this reassured him. Una wrote bleak letters without joy but also without self-pity. She was well and she hoped her family was well. — John Steinbeck

The little boy who never grew up,
He trapped the frog and kills the rat,
He flew a kite, the little boy who never grew up,
He found a dream and took it home
The little boy who never grew up,
He planted his dream deep in his heart,
The little boy who never grew up,
He watered his dream, wishing his dream to bloom,
The little boy who never grew up,
The dream died, the dream drowned,
The little boy who never grew up,
Watered his dream too much,
His dream died, the little boy cried,
The little boy who never grew up
His dream was dead; he wanted the same,
The little boy who never grew up,
He wishes his dream could take him away. — Quetzal

The moon came out from behind the cloud then, just as the door behind Kit and Ty flew open, and the Shadowhunters poured out. Several of the Centurions carried witchlights: The night lit up, and Kit saw the things coming up the road, spilling onto the grass. They clamored toward the Institute, and on the porch the Shadowhunters raised their weapons. — Cassandra Clare

My show 'The Big House' was picked up; they flew me to New York. I'm about to step on stage to announce Kevin Hart's 'The Big House.' And a hand grabs my shoulder, 'Kevin no, they just decided to cancel it.' It's a serious smack-in-the-face business, and either you can take it, or you can't. — Kevin Hart

Bonnie saw ropes hanging loose, poles falling away, tree-tops sinking beneath her. As they rose, the sun rose with them. Its warmth turned the dark skin of the fiery balloon midnight blue. They flew straight up. Above them, the sweet, clear music of the lonely pipe called to them. Then the smooth sky puckered into cloth-of-blue and drew aside. They passed straight through ... — Pauline Fisk

On the other hand, she never looked as -big- as she did at that moment.
"What?" Rose demanded, glaring up at him.
The warning signal flashed bright red in Kane's head. Telling a woman she was as big as a beach ball wouldn't win any points. How did one describe how she looked? A basketball? Volleyball? He studied her furious little face. Yeah. He was in big trouble no matter what he said. Description was out of the question. He needed diplomacy, something that flew out of the window when he was near her and she said the words like contractions. — Christine Feehan

Two weeks earlier than scheduled, she flew into Vancouver and signed on with Greenpeace.
The work was neither taxing nor truly exciting but the people she met more than compensated and she forged many new friendships. The high points were the trips they made by sea kayak, exploring the wild inlets farther up the coast. They watched bears scoop salmon from the shallows and paddled among pods of orcas, so close you could have reached out and touched them. At night they camped at the water's edge, listening to the blow of whales in the bay and the distant howls of wolves in the forest above. — Nicholas Evans

I will also talk about my experience of growing up in the former Soviet Union, where mathematics became an outpost of freedom in the face of an oppressive regime. I was denied entrance to Moscow State University because of the discriminatory policies of the Soviet Union. The doors were slammed shut in front of me. I was an outcast. But I didn't give up. I would sneak into the University to attend lectures and seminars. I would read math books on my own, sometimes late at night. And in the end, I was able to hack the system. They didn't let me in through the front door; I flew in through a window. When you are in love, who can stop you? — Edward Frenkel

Say, I was on The Craig Kilbourne Show and the next day I flew to Minneapolis. I was at the airport and a guy came up. He said, 'Dude, I saw you on TV last night.' But he did not say whether or not he thought I was good, he just confirmed that I was on television. So I turned my head away from him for about a minute, then I turned it back. I said, 'Dude, I saw you at the airport about a minute ago. And you were good.' — Mitch Hedberg

Curran snarled and hurled the rock against the mountain. The boulder flew, hit like a cannon ball, and rolled back down. Curran chased it, pulled another smaller rock out of the dirt, and smashed it against the first one.
Wow. He was really pissed.
Astamur's eyes were as big as plates.
"I can get him to put those back after he's done," I told him.
"No," Astamur said slowly. "It's fine."
Curran picked up the smaller rock with both hands and threw it onto the larger boulder. The boulder cracked and fell apart. Oops.
"Sorry we broke your rock."
Atsany took the pipe out of his mouth and said something.
"Mrrrhhhm," Astamur said.
"What did he say?"
"He said that the man must be your husband, because only someone we love very much can make us this crazy. — Ilona Andrews

Racing up the wide staircase, I barreled through the double doors and smacked right into a brick wall.
Stumbling backward, my arms flailed like a cracked-out crossing guard. My over-packed messenger bag slipped, pulling me to one side. My hair
flew it front of my face, a sheet of auburn that obscured everything as I teetered dangerously.
Oh dear God, I was going down. There was no stopping it. Visions of broken necks danced in my head. This was going to suck so
Something strong and hard went around my waist, stopping my free fall. My bag hit the floor, spilling overpriced books and pens across the shiny
floor. My pens! My glorious pens rolled everywhere. A second later I was pressed against the wall.
The wall was strangely warm.
The wall chuckled.
"Whoa," a deep voice said. "You okay, sweetheart? — J. Lynn

American airmen, when they got to the front, mostly flew in borrowed, patched-up planes provided by the Allies, leaving them in the position of being sent into the most dangerous form of combat in modern times with next to no training in generally second-rate surplus planes against vastly more experienced enemies. — Bill Bryson

I had been playing with matches and burned a small rug. I was in the process of covering up my crime when suddenly God saw me. I felt His gaze inside my head and on my hands ... I flew into a rage against so crude an indiscretion, I blasphemed ... He never looked at me again ... I had the more difficulty getting rid of Him the Holy Ghost in that He had installed Himself at the back of my head ... I collared the Holy Ghost in the cellar and threw Him out. — Jean-Paul Sartre

Oh God how subtle he would have to be, how cunning ... No paragraph, no phrase even of the thousands the book must contain could strike a discordant note, be less than fully imagined, an entire novel's worth of thought would have to be expended on each one. His attention had only to lapse for a moment, between preposition and object, colophon and chapter heading, for dead spots to appear like gangrene that would rot the whole. Silkworms didn't work as finely or as patiently as he must, and yet boldness was all, the large stroke, the end contained in and prophesied by the beginning, the stains of his clouds infinitely various but all signifying sunrise. Unity in diversity, all that guff. An enormous weariness flew over him. The trouble with drink, he had long known, wasn't that it started up these large things but that it belittled the awful difficulties of their execution. ("Novelty") — John Crowley

Have you ever been up in your plane at night, alone, somewhere, 20,000 feet above the ocean? ... Did you ever hear music up there? ... It's the music a man's spirit sings to his heart, when the earth's far away and there isn't any more fear. It's the high, fine, beautiful sound of an earth-bound creature who grew wings and flew up high and looked straight into the face of the future. And caught, just for an instant, the unbelievable vision of a free man in a free world. — Dalton Trumbo

Ivan Fyodorovich had long been feeling an intense hatred for him, before he even thought about him, and suddenly he became aware of him. He at once felt an irresistible desire to bring his fist down on the little peasant. Just at that moment they came abreast of each other, and the little peasant, staggering badly, suddenly lurched full force into Ivan. The latter furiously shoved him away. The little peasant flew back and crashed like a log against the frozen ground, let out just one painful groan: "O-oh!" and was still. Ivan stepped up to him. He lay flat on his back, quite motionless, unconscious. "He'll freeze!" Ivan thought, and strode off again to Smerdyakov. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Why didn't you wake me up?'
'I thought you could use the rest. Besides, you were sleeping like the dead. You even drooled,' he added. 'On my shirt.'
Clary's hand flew to her mouth. 'Sorry.'
'Its not often you get to see someone drool,' Jace observed. 'Especially with such total abandon. Mouth wide open and everything. — Cassandra Clare

Izzy," said Jace, as they neared the pond, and she jumped up and spun around. Her smile was dazzling.
"Jace!" She flew at him and hugged him. Now that was the way sisters were supposed to act, Clary thought. Not all stiff and weird and peculiar, but happy and loving. Watching Jace hug Isabelle, she tried to school her features into a happy and loving expression.
"Are you all right?" Simon asked, with some concern. "Your eyes are crossing."
"I'm fine." Clary abandoned the attempt.
"Are you sure? You looked sort of ... contorted. — Cassandra Clare

There just wasn't enough time in 2008. It had become a limited resource. Back in 1998, the days were so much more spacious. When she woke up in the morning, the day rolled out in front of her like a long hallway for her to meander down, free to linger over the best parts. Days were so stingy now. Mean slivers of time. They flew by like speeding cars. Whoosh! When she was pulling back the blankets to hop into bed each night, it felt as if only seconds ago — Liane Moriarty

Mara gave you my letter?"
"Yes."
"You must have been astonished." She had exposed her heart in that letter.
His eyebrows shot up. "'Astonished' is a mild word for it."
"But you came - so you must have read the other letters. They should have prepared you a little."
"I received no other letters. I had no idea you were in this part of the world."
She shook her head in confusion. "Then how did you know to come?"
"Yasmeen and I were in New Eden again - I have written that story for you in another letter - when a supply ship arrived carrying the rumor that Zenobia Fox was under the protection of the Kraken King. Needless to say, we abandoned New Eden and flew to Krakentown and full steam. — Meljean Brook

Cold up there, huh?" Yeah, it kind of was. "Stupid down there, huh?" Seth's brows flew up. "For one in such a precarious position, you sure don't know how to talk yourself out of it." "That's because it's hard to reason with idiots." I gave him a cheeky grin. "Why bother? — Jennifer L. Armentrout

What time do we start?" I resisted the urge to grin. "Show up at the New Living Hope Revival Church at ten tomorrow morning." His eyes flew open. "Ten? That early?" "Half the world's awake by ten, and the other half is sleeping in China. — Denise Grover Swank

It was the custom in those days for passengers leaving for America to bring balls of yarn on deck. Relatives on the pier held the loose ends. As the "Giulia" blew its horn and moved away from the dock, a few hundred strings of yarn stretched across the water. People shouted farewells, waved furiously, held up babies for last looks they wouldn't remember. Propellers churned; handkerchiefs fluttered, and, up on deck, the balls of yarn began to spin. Red, yellow, blue, green, they untangled toward the pier, slowly at first, one revolution every ten seconds, then faster and faster as the boat picked up speed. Passengers held the yarn as long as possible, maintaining the connection to faces disappearing onshore. But finally, one by one, the balls ran out. The strings of yarn flew free, rising on the breeze. — Jeffrey Eugenides

Things got out of hand. It happens."
My brows flew up. "It happens? Often? Do you just walk around and happen to end up kissing girls? Do you slip and fall on girls' mouths? If so, that's got to be an awkward life to live."
"Well ... " The quirk to his lips was mischievous and teasing, but I was so not having it. He sighed. "Tess, you're a beautiful girl and I'm a guy and - "
"Oh, shut up."
His eyes widened.
"Don't even finish what will most likely be the lamest sentence in the history of lame sentences. You're attracted to me. — J. Lynn

If prayer flew as quickly as gossip, all the saints in heaven could not keep up with it. — James R. Benn