H Standing Desk Quotes & Sayings

You can't go back. Can't fix what broke. But you can go forward. And every step matters. Every one makes a difference." She pushed away from the desk, cupped his face in her hands. "From where I'm standing, you're the best step I ever took. — J.D. Robb

In the days that follow, he begins to remember things about Moushumi, images that come to him without warning while he is sitting at his desk at work, or during a meeting, or drifting off to sleep, or standing in the mornings under the shower. They are scenes he has carried within him, buried but intact, scenes he has never thought about or had reason to conjure up until now. — Jhumpa Lahiri

He worked at a plain, tall desk at which he wrote standing up or perched on a high stool, — David McCullough

A genuine writer will always have stronger opinions or say, if not, they won't be a writer. — Tim I. Gurung

Tyler said she was good, but she was having sex with him, so his vote didn't count — Jaci Burton

His favorites were the arm curl machine and the abdominal machine, where he would lift hard for long minutes and then fight a few last painful crunches.Not that I made a habit of standing there and staring at him as he worked out.That would be creepy.I watched him on the surveillance cameras behind the reception desk. — Jennifer Echols

Do you really think he was flirting with me?"
"Let's see. He gave you candy you hate - I saw your face - and a CD of songs ... " He looks at the CD. "All of these are, like, twenty years old at least. Figures. Oh, and he groped your face. Sounds like true love to me. — Elizabeth Scott

I folded my hands back on my desk, and as I did, I saw Paul's slanted handwriting standing out against my blocky, square printing on my skin. He'd managed to find room to squeeze in the words females hurt my brain on my left hand. I raised an eyebrow at him and he gave me a look like, well it's true, isn't it? — Maggie Stiefvater

Set flush in the wall behind the desk was a steel door. It was knobless, and along one edge were three brass keyholes spaced a few inches apart. Rube brought out a key ring, selected a key, then walked around the desk, inserted the key in the topmost lock, and turned it. From his watch pocket he took a single key, pushed it into the middle keyhole, and turned. The guard stood waiting beside him, and now the guard inserted a key in the bottom keyhole, turned it and pulled the door open with the key. Rube removed his two keys and gestured me in through the open door before him. He followed, and the door swung solidly shut behind us. I heard the multiple click of the locks engaging, and we were standing in a space hardly larger than a big closet, dimly lighted by an overhead bulb in a wire cage. Then I saw that we were at the top of a circular metal staircase. — Jack Finney

Standing directly in front of my desk, he peers down at me as I slowly raise my head, meeting his focused eyes. Suddenly, I can't feel my lips — Kelly Stevenson

And it has to do with having no inventory or stockpiles on the shelf, but items arrive as you need to build your product. What that means is that it's much more difficult to actually find stockpiles of already built weapons. — Mitchell Reiss

Dinnertime!" It was Isabelle, standing framed in the door of the library. She still had the spoon in her hand, though her hair had escaped from its bun and was straggling down her neck. "Sorry if I'm interrupting," she added, as an afterthought.
"Dear God," said Jace, "the dread hour is nigh."
Hodge looked alarmed. "I - I - I had a very filling breakfast," he stammered. "I mean lunch. A filling lunch. I couldn't possibly eat - "
"I threw out the soup," Isabelle said. "And ordered Chinese from that place downtown."
Jace unhitched himself from the desk and stretched. "Great. I'm starved."
"I might be able to eat a bite," admitted Hodge meekly. — Cassandra Clare

Uh, Miss Carlson," I said, standing at her desk after everybody else had gone on to their next class, "somebody told me you went to that guy's funeral the one the highway patrol shot."
"Yes," SHe said. "I did."
She didn't look like she was mad at me about it. She had real long eyelashes. I bet she was good-looking when she was young.
"Was he a relative or something?" That was what I was afraid of.
"No. Not even a friend really." She paused, like she was hunting for the right words. Finally she said, "I read a book once that ended with the words 'the incommunicable past' You can only share the past with someone who's shared it with you. So I can't explain to you what Mark was to me, exactly. I knew him a long time ago. — S.E. Hinton

But they would have been amazed if he had the words to describe it - how delicate it had been, how it reached almost three quarters of the way from the top of the desk to the ceiling, a lacy construct of jacks and deuces and kings and tens and Big Akers, a red and black configuration of paper diamonds standing in defiance of a world spinning through a universe of incoherent motions and forces; a tower that seemed to 'Cimi's amazed eyes to be a ringing denial of all the unfair paradoxes of life. — Stephen King

I am a poem, or I am a pattern, or a race of people whose world was swallowed by the sea. — Neil Gaiman

The Gerat Bald Swamp Hedgehog of Billericay displays, in courtship, his single prickle and does impressions of Holiday Inn desk clerks. Since this means him standing motionless for enormous periods of time he is often eaten in full display by The Great Bald Swamp Hedgehog Eater. — Mike Harding

Two uniformed trolls were standing in front of Sergeant Colon's high desk, with a slightly smaller troll between them. This troll was wearing a slightly downcast expression. It was also wearing a tutu and had a small pair of gauzed wings glued to its back.
" - happen to know that trolls don't have any tradition of a Tooth Fairy," Colon was saying. "Especially not one called' - he looked down - "Clinkerbell. So how about we just call it breaking and entering without a Thieves' Guild license?"
"Is racial prejudice, not letting trolls have a Tooth Fairy," Clinkerbell muttered.
One of the troll guards upended a sack on the desk. Various items of silverwear cascaded over the paperwork.
"And this is what you found under their pillows, was it?" said Colon.
"Bless dere little hearts," said Clinkerbell. — Terry Pratchett

I write at a standing desk, which has helped me be much more productive and solved some back problems, but mostly all my quirky habits have to do with procrastination and avoidance rather than with work. I'm slowly trying to stamp those out. — Paolo Bacigalupi

The Queue consists entirely of fragments of ochered' dialogue, a linguistic vernacular anchored by the long-suffering word stoyat' (to stand). You stood? Yes, stood. Three hours. Got damaged ones. Wrong size. Here's what the line wasn't: a gray inert nowhere. Imagine instead an all-Soviet public square, a hurly-burly where comrades traded gossip and insults, caught up with news left out of the newspapers, got into fistfights, or enacted comradely feats. In the thirties the NKVD had informers in queues to assess public moods, hurrying the intelligence straight to Stalin's brooding desk. Lines shaped opinions and bred ad hoc communities: citizens from all walks of life standing, united by probably the only truly collective authentic Soviet emotions: yearning and discontent (not to forget the unifying hostility toward war veterans and pregnant women, honored comrades allowed to get goods without a wait). — Anya Von Bremzen

We boast of our system of education, but why stop at schoolmasters and schoolhouses? We are all schoolmasters, and our schoolhouse is the universe. To attend chiefly to the desk or schoolhouse while we neglect the scenery in which it is placed is absurd. If we do not look out we shall find our find schoolhouse standing in a cow-yard at last. — Henry David Thoreau

Lynnette and me were wondering that, if it's alright with ya, since it's Thursday night, ya know, 'thirsty Thursday,' and we're kinda invited to this party, well we thought that maybe ya could close the library without us tonight, eh?" Autumn asks, standing in front of the circulation desk where I sit with a worn copy of poetry. She can't help playing with her long brown hair, nervously pulling strands from the back while straightening it out. At the same time, she is casting glances at Lynette who is watching us from the racks of current journals. I don't glance up at Autumn because I don't need — Amy A. Bartol

One of the class leaders was working on the front desk in a Disney resort at the time of the incident. The housekeeper had encountered something very rare. She knocked on the door and, having gotten no response from any guests inside the room, opened it to reveal a cow standing between the beds and the TV. If you think that's funny, then it gets better: this room was on the second floor, and whoever put the cow there had to get it onto Disney property and past all the cast members working at the resort, before taking it to the second floor. The moral of the story: EXPECT EVERYTHING. — Ema Hutton

One sits the whole day at the desk and appetite is standing next to me. 'Away with you', I say. But Comrade Appetite does not budge from the spot. — Leonid I. Brezhnev

Lin says the sensation of standing in the middle of these unsettling effects is a distilled version of how he feels throughout the show: "I am staying in my lane and doing what I'm supposed to do while everyone is doing what they do at the height of their abilities, and if I move to the left or right, I'll get hit with a desk. — Lin-Manuel Miranda

I try to get seven hours of sleep every night; I always walk or bike to work; I make a point to eat well and take my vitamins; I drink tons of water; and I always spend a portion of my day at a standing desk. — Jessica Scorpio

Later that day when I passed the Admin lieutenant and the Sargeant standing by the Desk, I said casually, "I'm leaving too, Sarge."
"Okay," he said, and I kept on walking. — Edward Conlon

If you don't have anything to say, your photographs aren't going to say much. — Gordon Parks

My dad was in the military. It was difficult sometimes, because he would have to be away a lot, and we would have to move around a lot. Trying to adapt to new schools and new places can be really tough. — Nolan Gould

we have a Gene-IE to grant us wishes," he said. Darlene brushed past in her white coat. To my surprise, Eliza was at the computer desk behind the lab door and looked up at me. "You took your time," she said with a glint in her green eyes. "Leaving us to do all the work." I had an overwhelming urge to hug her, which I didn't fight. She responded very tightly, then slowly broke away. "What are you doing standing — James Patterson

Howdy, ma'am. You always talk to yourself?
Velia glanced up into bright eyes, as blue as the flame on a cigarette lighter, belonging to a man standing in front of her desk wearing a cowboy hat tipped back on his head. — Mary J. McCoy-Dressel

You do not see the painting in the attic
The maggots on skin that tear.
The beauty is a trick.
Narcissus - promise naught but air...' ~ Dorian Gray — Stella Coulson

A blanket of herring clouds was rolling in from the east. — John Steinbeck

Whether you reed or rite, accustom yourselves to stand at a high desk — Noah Webster

He loved me," she said, her voice leaden. "It is so easy to take love for granted when one has always had it. I knew he loved me as I loved him, but I did not realize perhaps how much until all love was removed. — Mary Balogh

There's already a marriage clock, a career clock, a biological clock. Sometimes being a woman feels like standing in the lobby of a hotel, looking at the dials depicting every time zone in the world behind the front desk - except they all apply to you, and all at once. — Sloane Crosley

The wind shook some blossoms from the trees, and the heavy lilac blooms, with their clustering stars, moved to and fro in the languid air. A grasshopper began to chirp by the wall, and like a blue thread a long, thin dragonfly floated past on its brown gauze wings. Lord Henry felt as if he could hear Basil Hallward's heart beating, and wondered what was coming. — Oscar Wilde

Standing behind the desk,checking out an appointment book,is Mr.Asshole himself,Vincent. — Laura Wright

You're like Jesus," Susie said, more positively now that she had said the words out loud. "He doesn't like it when people be bad either. An' He doesn't like to send them away - out of heaven. But it would spoil heaven for everybody else if He let bad people in there." Wynn said nothing, but his eyes looked misty as he reached out to tousle the little black head on his way to the bedroom for his slippers. — Janette Oke

I will never forget the bright September day, standing at my desk in the White House, when my young assistant said that a plane had hit the World Trade Center - and then a second one - and a third, the Pentagon. — Condoleezza Rice

I should have gone to college and gone into real estate and got myself an aquarium, that's what I should have done. — Jeffrey Dahmer

The real point is, the anarchist view is not to just get rid of the state and then that's it. It's not replace the state with nothing. It's not that nobody should be protecting anyone's rights. The anarchist view is that the services that are provided by the state should be provided, but they should be provided by somebody else. Namely, they should be provided by businesses for profit. — Anonymous

You'll have to pardon me," the magus said. "But with your country at war I can't see how any of it really matters."
Standing up, Eugenides pulled the papers from the magus's hands. "It matters, because I can't do anything, anymore, for this country, and it matters," he yelled as he threw the papers back to his desk, "because I only have one hand and it isn't even the right one!" Turning, he picked an inkpot off the desk and threw it to shatter on the door of his wardrobe, spraying black ink across the pale wood and onto the wall. Black drops like rain stained the sheets of his bed.
...
Eddis sighed. "Will you sit down and stop shouting?" she asked.
"I'll stop shouting. I won't sit down. I might need to throw more inkpots. — Megan Whalen Turner

I smiled, leaning over the desk and used the sweetest tone I could muster. "In my spare time I flay open bodies of the deceased. Two of whom were victims of Leather Apron. The scent that hung in the room would drop a man to his knees, and I aided my uncle during the postmortems while standing in gelled blood." I sat back in my chair, the leather squeaking its own disapproval. "Whatever you have to show us won't be too much for my stomach to handle, I assure you. — Kerri Maniscalco