Glued To It Like Quotes & Sayings

Sorry, boss, I need to get a bottle of red for a table," Rodney said, like it was the most natural thing in the world to walk in the wine room and catch Kane, or anyone for that matter, making out with someone. Kane started to speak, he opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Instead, his eyes stayed glued to Avery's. "Don't worry, I'll cover for you." Rodney left almost as fast as he'd arrived. — Kindle Alexander

Love is like a teacup that every day falls to the ground and breaks to pieces. In the morning the pieces are gathered and with a little moisture and a little warmth, the pieces are glued together, and again there is a little teacup. He who is in love spends life fearing that the terrible day will come when the teacup is so broken that it can no longer mended. — Subcomandante Marcos

Remember my experiments with the RTG and having a hot bath? Same principle, but I came up with an improvement: submerge the RTG. No heat will be wasted that way. I started with a large rigid sample container (or "plastic box" to people who don't work at NASA). I ran a tube through the open top and down the inside wall. Then I coiled it in the bottom to make a spiral. I glued it in place like that and sealed the end. Using my smallest drill bit, I put dozens of little holes in the coil. The idea is for the freezing return air from the regulator to pass through the water as a bunch of little bubbles. The increased surface area will get the heat into the air better. Then I got a medium flexible sample container ("Ziploc bag") and tried to seal the RTG in it. But the RTG has an irregular shape, and I couldn't get all the air out of the bag. I can't allow any air in there. — Andy Weir

It's like before when there was a huge pile up on the highway, as soon as you got to the point in the traffic jam that you could see the accident, your eyes were glued to the window and you nearly rear ended the guy in front of you so that you can catch a peek at the victims. Sick fucks that we are, we like to witness the suffering of others and say, 'sucks to be them.' We bob our heads to the radio as we open up our engines and tear down the now cleared highway, continuing on with our lives as if we didn't just witness someone's spine being scraped off the ground. Come on, you know you've done it. Everyone has, and right now is one of those moments. — Katelin LaMontagne

A gaggle of old ladies is glued to the window at the end of the hall like children or jailbirds. They're spidery and frail, their hair as fine as mist. Most of them are a good decade younger than me, and this astounds me. Even as your body betrays you, your mind denies it.
There are five of them now, white headed old things huddled together and pointing crooked fingers at the glass. — Sara Gruen

For the record, there were no framed pictures of me around our house, and the only class portrait Dad had ever ordered was the one from Sparta Elementary in which I'd sat, knees glued together, in front of a background that looked like Yosemite, sporting pink overalls and a lazy eye. "This is classic," Dad said. "That they shamelessly send me an order form so I can pay $69.95 for prints large and small of a photo in which my daughter looks as if she just suffered a great blow to her head - it just shows you, we are simply strapped to a motorized assembly line moving through this country. We're supposed to pay out, shut up or get tossed in the rejects bin. — Marisha Pessl

Perhaps the world has always been like this, Mosca thought as she pushed her way through the crowd. Like a broken honeypot that looks whole, but just holds together because the shards are resting in place and are glued together with honey. You just need to prod it a bit, and it all starts oozing apart. — Frances Hardinge

Fred, George, Harry, and Ron were the only ones who knew that the angel on top of the tree was actually a garden gnome that had bitten Fred on the ankle as he pulled up carrots for Christmas dinner. Stupefied, painted gold, stuffed into a miniature tutu and with small wings glued to its back, it glowered down at them all, the ugliest angel Harry had ever seen, with a large bald head like a potato and rather hairy feet. — J.K. Rowling

You're one to talk about talking crap, Forester." Dunstan's voice interrupts the memory, and I can't help but feel a little grateful. "Accusing my dad of poisoning the swamp? What a bunch of bull."
"It's not bull,"I snarl. "Your dad's dumping trash into the swamp and you know it!"
Dunstan finally loses it and stands up. The boat tilts dangerously. Melanie and the twins shriek, grasping the sides like they're glued to them.
"You two sit down this minute!" Babette bellows. She's holding onto the motor for dear life. Neither of us listens.
"You wanna run that by me again?" Dunstan growls. His fingers curl into fists.
"Your. Dad. Is. Poisoning. The. Swamp." I let each word out slowly like Dunstan's a dumb little kid who needs help understanding. — Colleen Boyd

Glued them to me. It was like tearing off duct tape. With a harsh wrench, I went on my back. "Sorry," he said, though he didn't sound sorry. He finished taking off my pants and straightened. His arms slipped under my legs and around my back, collecting me in his arms. My cold, bare skin burned where it touched his warm body. The numbness of most of my skin kept — Stacey Marie Brown

It's going to hurt like a motherfucker," he warned. "Of course it will." I smiled into our kiss, my lips still glued to his. "Everything with you does." He — L.J. Shen

I stand there for just a few seconds before people realize that I'm there. Their conversation peters out. I wipe my palms off on the hem of my shirt. Too many eyes, and too much silence.
Evelyn clears her throat. "Everyone, this is Tris Prior. I believe you may have heard a lot about her yesterday."
"And Christina, Uriah, and Lynn," supplies Tobias. I'm grateful for his attempt to divert everyone's attention from me, but it doesn't work.
I stand glued to the door frame for a few seconds, and then one of the factionless men--older, his wrinkled skin patterned with tattoos--speaks up.
"Aren't you supposed to be dead?"
Some of the others laugh, and I try a smile. It emerges crooked and small.
"Supposed to be," I say.
"We don't like to give Jeanine Matthews what she wants, though," Tobias says. — Veronica Roth

I could never understand what was going on in my dreams I couldn't control the happenings, it's like I just stood there glued to the ground watching everything around me move and evolve into different scenarios. I was a ghost of myself watching life unravel before my own eyes ... — JaszCab.

They were glued down, every last one of them. A packet of souls.
Was it fate?
Misfortune?
Is that what glued them down like that?
Of course not.
Let's not be stupid.
It probably had more to do with the hurled bombs, thrown down by humans hiding in the clouds. — Markus Zusak

Doyle: "What is it now, then?"
Cordelia: "Isn't java supposed to be a coffee?"
Doyle: "Ready to abandon the the Web project?"
Cordelia: "No way. We have a chance here to make contact with the millions of people out there who are glued to their computers."
Doyle: "All those millions, shunning human contact. I'll never understand it. Call me old-fashioned, if you like, but I want to interface with a face, not a hunk of plastic and glass."
Cordelia: "Climb out of the Dark Ages, Munchkin man."
Doyle: "It's leprechaun, and either way, I don't appreciate the insult. — John Passarella

One of her friends who posts from the moment she wakes up until she goes to bed at night. I don't know her, but I have friends like her, friends who miss their lives as they stay glued to their phones, letting everyone know of every thought they have and every bite they eat. I wonder if this girl ever interacts much with real friends - people who are truly present in her life. She probably never enjoys a meal, because she's too busy posting pictures of it. Too busy to enjoy her friends' quips, because she's thumb-typing every word. — Terri Blackstock

Thank you, NASA, for keeping watch and realizing that our universe will never be anything but light-years new. I want to understand that, and I am so comforted by the fact that I can't. It only proves that some things won't allow themselves to be understood. They aren't for us to know and there's rapture in that, don't you think? Are you happy there, with your eyes glued to the heavens? You know so much, like why the ocean doesn't fall out of the sky, and that there is no upside down. There is no up. — Mary-Louise Parker

It is as if the Photograph always carries its referent with itself, both affected by the same amorous or funereal immobility, at the very heart of the moving world: they are glued together, limb by limb, like the condemned man and the corpse in certain tortures; or even like those pairs of fish (sharks, I think, according to Michelet) which navigate in convoy, as though united by an eternal coitus. — Roland Barthes

The streak of bleach in my hair is as obvious as ever. Am I really going out in public like this? I push my hair backward and forward a few times - but I can't hide it. Maybe I could walk along with my hand carelessly positioned at my head, as if I'm thinking hard. I attempt a few casual, pensive poses in the mirror.
"Is your head all right?"
I swivel round in shock to see Nathaniel at the open door, wearing a plaid shirt and jeans.
"Er ... fine," I say, my hand still glued to my head. "I was just ... "
Oh, there's no point. I bring my hand down from my hair and Nathaniel regards the streak for a moment.
"It looks nice," he says. "Like a badger."
"A badger?" I say, affronted. "I don't look like a badger."
"Badgers are beautiful creatures," says Nathaniel with a shrug. "I'd rather look like a badger than a stoat. — Sophie Kinsella

Nathaniel closes his eyes and jumps, his arms glued to his sides like that fly's. He doesn't try to break his fall, just hits hard, because it hurts less than everything else. — Jodi Picoult

How she could walk out his door, that she was strong enough to break the connection his body was glued into, even when she wasn't there, had stunned him stupid. He'd always figured they'd drown together in the endlessness of their attraction. He loved her so much - it was like the devil himself was squeezing his heart. And she'd said she loved him ... Beckett Taylor #ReturntoPoughkeepsie — Debra Anastasia

from the poem Holographic Personality Disgrace:

Some people are such assholes that saying, "Look, again, I'm sorry I cut off my thumb and glued it to your baby's head because I thought you'd like him better as a unicorn" means nothing to them. — Sam Pink

I saw them. It was impossible to snitch a sample."
He grunted, lowering himself into his chair. "I didn't ask you to."
"Who said you did, but you expected me to. There are three of them in a glass case and the guard has his feet glued."
"What color are they?"
"They're not black."
"Black flowers are never black. What color are they?"
"Well." I considered. "Say you take a piece of coal. Not anthracite. Cannel coal."
"That's black."
"Wait a minute. Spread on it a thin coating of open kettle molasses. That's it."
"Pfui. You haven't the faintest notion what it would look like. Neither have I."
"I'll go buy a piece of coal and we'll try it. — Rex Stout

I've skimmed through it a dozen times, the book glued to my side the past few days, like maybe the information will sink in through osmosis. — J.M. Darhower

I'm being given a little bit of credit now as being a viable collage artist, which some people think is ridiculous. Like this guy who said, "Wait a minute: You had an art show where you just cut out pictures and then glued them back together?" And I said, "Yeah, that's pretty much what it is." There's more to it than that. It's about having the eye for detail, moving things from one environment and reassembling them into new environments ... Everyone can do it, but not everyone can do it well. — Robert Pollard

I try Dr. Pat's breathing exercises but they're not working because my entire mind is focused on keeping myself glued to the couch. I don't want to move any closer to the bathroom just in case. But I hate myself for the thought. I know it's not right or normal. I know I'm not simply some cute quirky girl like Beck says, and every moment I can't get off the couch is a moment that makes me one level crazier. That heavy, pre-crying feeling floods my sinuses and I drop my head from the weight of it. Cover my face with my hands long enough to get out a cry or two. Because there is nothing, nothing worse than not being able to undo the crazy thoughts. I ask them to leave, but they won't. I try to ignore them, but the only thing that works is giving in to them.
Torture: knowing something makes no sense, doing it anyway. — Corey Ann Haydu

(W)hy is poetry wholly an elderly taste? When I was twenty I could not for the life of me read Shakespeare for pleasure; now it lights me as I walk to think I have two acts of King John tonight, and shall next read Richard the Second. It is poetry that I want now -- long poems. I want the concentration and the romance, and the words all glued together, fused, glowing; having no time to waste any more on prose. When I was twenty I liked Eighteenth Century prose; now it's poetry I want, so I repeat like a tipsy sailor in the front of a public house. — Virginia Woolf

From this height the sleeping city seems like a child's construction, a model which has refused to be constrained by imagination. The volcanic plug might be black Plasticine, the castle balanced solidly atop it a skewed rendition of crenellated building bricks. The orange street lamps are crumpled toffee-wrappers glued to lollipop sticks. — Ian Rankin

Yeah, sure. That's what you think." She sounds a little sad when she says it. A boy hasn't looked Mitzi in the eyes for years. Their eyes stayed glued to her chest. "I'll be her boyfriend noticed you or something like that. But if that's what happened, you're done. — Meg Medina

I wanted to play ball," he stated in a way that my body got very still and my eyes, already locked to his, became glued there. "It wasn't the money. It wasn't the fame. It was the game. The goddamned game. I didn't feel like I was breathin' right if I wasn't playin' or practicin'. Felt like life was still, someone hit pause, then I'd put on my pads and jersey and walk on the field and then everything would come alive. Dad and I were Eagles fans since I could remember. Puttin' that fuckin' jersey on, Christ, Laurie ... Christ. — Kristen Ashley

You'll be fine. Just hang on to me. I won't make you let go all night if you don't want to."
She took me up on my offer. Slowly, she slipped her arm around my waist and then clung to me like she was super glued there. I tensed beneath her touch and had to fight back shivers.
"Feel free to hang on to other parts of me too." My voice came out thick because it had been stuck in my throat. "My butt's feeling pretty left out, and I don't spend so much time working out my abs and chest just to never get felt up. — Kelly Oram

Hillary showed off a new set of White House china at the mansion's 200th birthday dinner Thursday. She said she helped design it. It's thanks to her that all the White House china looks like it's been glued back together. — Argus Hamilton

As I listened to the radio tell her story, it was hard to not think education should look more like this - paint splotches and messy smocks in a cramped studio - and less like large lecture halls with passive students parked in seats for ninety minutes at a time, eyes glued to a slide presentation. — Jeff Goins