Hide Their Heads Quotes & Sayings

It is not enough to be nice; you have to be good. We are attracted by nice people; but only on the assumption that their niceness is a sign of goodness. — Roger Scruton

Tourism is the great soporific. It's a huge confidence trick, and gives people the dangerous idea that there's something interesting in their lives. It's musical chairs in reverse ... All the upgrades in existence lead to the same airports and resort hotels, the same pina colada bullshit. The tourists smile at their tans and their shiny teeth and think they're happy. But the suntans hide who they really are
salary slaves, with heads full of American rubbish. Travel is the last fantasy the 2oth Century left us, the delusion that going somewhere helps you reinvent yourself. — J.G. Ballard

Could he, by some miracle, keep this going? Could they hide here until the war ends? Until the armies finish marching back and forth above their heads, until all they have to do is push open the door and shift some stones aside and the house has become a ruin beside the sea? Until he can hold her fingers in his palms and lead her out into the sunshine? He would walk anywhere to make it happen, bear anything; in a year or three years or ten, France and Germany would not mean what they meant now; they could leave the house and walk to a tourists' restaurant and order a simple meal together and eat it in silence, the comfortable kind of silence lovers are supposed to share. — Anthony Doerr

It didn't seem the right time to tell him where the worst monsters hide. They conceal themselves cleverly inside our heads and wait for the moments we're at our most vulnerable - bedtime, or when we're sick or anxious. — Helen Brown

It is never prudent to bury our heads in the sand when in distress or faced with adversity; to place our hands over our eyes in a feeble attempt to hide from the inevitable. — Carlos Wallace

Here's what I think. We all want someone to build a fort with. We want somebody to swap crayons with and play hide-and-seek with and live out imaginary stories with. We start out getting that from our family. Then we get it from our friends. And then, for whatever reasons, we get it in our heads that we need to get that feeling- that intimacy- from a single someone else. We call if growing up. But really, when you take sex out of it, what we want is a companion. And we make that so damn hard to find. — David Levithan

Do not allow yourself to be full of hate, princess. Hate is a heavy thing. It weighs us down, chaining us in a dark place. You focus on your love. If you want to be free of this heavy darkness you feel, focus on your love. Love is a chariot with a skeleton key to the chains which hate can wrap around you. To love is to be free. — H.D. Gordon

Space is an inspirational concept that allows you to dream big. — Peter Diamandis

We deny more than we confess. We hide more than we reveal. We assume because it makes us feel exposed if we have to ask. It's easier to say "I feel nothing" than to admit "I feel something." It takes no courage to say, "I hate you" but it takes a great deal of moxie to declare its opposite. Masks are elaborate and everyone has one. It takes a while to get to know people. This doesn't make them special, it makes them like everyone else. Sometimes our hearts scream yes while our heads say run; and only one can be obeyed. — Donna Lynn Hope

Danilo's was the kind of place where many drinking men come to hide, be it from their wives, in-laws, their jobs or life in general. it was where men and women can come to drink poison as if it was the only form of medicine available to remedy the migraine headache called life. The lighting dim and secluded, mostly covering the tables, counters and the door to the bathroom. The walls were decorated in decades of memories, favorite sports teams and other miscellaneous decor that was typical of small bars such as this one. It was too dark to tell what they were from a distance.
There was a thick layer of smoke hovering in the air around the ceiling lights, the place was smothered in it but was strongest above everyone's heads. The smell was the classic stale bar odor of cigarettes and cheap cigars. — J.C. Joranco

The system that keeps cosmic beings in a bullshit frame of mind of what existence is to make money off them, use them for their own sick games, perpetuate religions and fear, keeping them small in their heads when they are the divine and we are one force of creative love light mind in a universe of co-creation, cosmic experience, self-expression who should be completely sustained by the cosmos without these power-pigs who kill bodies with chemicals and enslave minds and hide the truths of the universe from them and deal with aliens. — Giuseppe Andrews

I used to see whatever future I wanted but now I don't see anything — Colleen Hoover

But on that night, Dad staggered in, eyes eerily lit.
The corners of his mouth foaming spit.
His demons planned an overnight stay.
Mom motioned to take the girls away,
hide them in their rooms, safe in their beds.
We closed the doors, covered our heads,
as if blankets could mute the sounds of his blows
or we could silence her screams beneath her pillows.
I hugged the littlest ones close to my chest,
till the beat of my heart lulled them to rest.
Only then did I let myself cry.
Only then did I let myself wonder why
Mom didn't fight back, didn't defend,
didn't confess to family or friend.
Had Dad's demons claimed her soul?
Or was this, as well, another woman's role? — Ellen Hopkins

Before us stretched a corridor of meat, great torsos of meadow animals strung in glistening flayed exhibitions, heads with limp exhausted comic-book tongues dangling at too sharp an angle, heads with dull-eyed slaughter-greeting looks, heads smiling and winking, perhaps the subtlest camouflage this severed coyness, heads piled in pyramids like park cannonballs, some of them cruelly facing a sausage display of their missing extremities, a thick and thin suspended rain of sausages, a storm of jellied blood, and further down the corridor no recognizable animal shapes but chunks of their bodies, shaped not by hide or muscle but by cleaver, knife and appetite. — Leonard Cohen

It is a common failing-and one that I have myself suffered from-to fall in love with a hypothesis and to be unwilling to take no for an answer. A love affair with a pet hypothesis can waste years of precious time. There is very often no finally decisive yes, though quite often there can be a decisive no. — Peter Medawar

If the techs are on it we're fine, but Briamiv and his buddy could fuck up a full stop at the end of a sentence. — China Mieville

I use things that people want to hide in their heads. War, religion, sex; things we all think about, but don't bring to the forefront. But I do and I force them to watch it — Alexander McQueen

Thanks a lot, Allie."
I grimaced not for the first time at the realization that he couldn't remember my name, then I decided I was definitely over the guy. "You're welcome, Bart."
"Brad."
"Kate."
"Huh?"
I wanted to laugh. "I'm Kate. — Rachel Hawthorne

So I make no effort to hide my pain. I don't ever put it all on display like this - but for today and all the rest of the days of the trial, I must. My every flinch, every flicker of pain, will be
magnified a hundred times over, then dissected by the pundits and talking heads. But I'm told it's necessary; the world needs to see me vulnerable and wounded. I cannot appear not to care or to lack remorse, but that removes a crucial component of my self- defense mechanism and leaves me bleeding for all the world to see. I suppose that's rather the point. — Ann Aguirre

But what is it to me whether my chance is slight or great? I mean, must I consider this when I love? No - no reckoning; one loves because one loves. Then we keep our heads clear, and do not cloud our minds, nor do we hide our feelings, nor smother the fire and light, but simply say: Thank God, I love. — Vincent Van Gogh

Oh! where do fairies hide their heads, When snow lies on the hills, When frost has spoiled their mossy beds, And crystallized their rills? — Thomas Haynes Bayly

The essence of intelligence was to know when, or if, to expose even the heart's deep need for instruction. — Colum McCann

What matters here are the works - finally without them his life would be uninteresting. What matters, that is, are the astonishing things that he left behind. If we can get the life in relation to the works, then it can take off. — Stephen Greenblatt

History is often best told from the ground, out of a car window or in someone's kitchen, not through some huge production mechanism or grand framing device. — Josh Fox

How many of those who are insecure seek power over others as a compensation for inadequacy and wind up bringing consequences down upon their heads and those around them? How many hide out in their lives, resist the summons to show up, or live fugitive lives, jealous, projecting onto others, and then wonder why nothing ever really feels quite right. How many proffer compliance with the other, buying peace at the price of soul, and wind up with neither? — James Hollis

The girl didn't notice that her boyfriend's head had transformed into a big microphone. So when she whispered her secrets into his ear, her words echoed trough the city. In her embarrassment, she ran out of the house to hide somewhere. And what she saw scared her: couples with microphone heads walked the streets hand in hand. What a sad new world this was, where everybody had to learn how to hold back from saying things.
Sounds of slammed doors echoued through the city. Apart from this, there was only silence. — Zoltan Komor

and spiraled toward me. — Kathy Reichs

Flint surprises me by laughing out loud, covering his mouth for a moment as though trying to hide it. "Oh my God - Relax. I'm still coherent, right?"

"Define coherent and I'll let you be," I mumble at him, annoyed.

Flint smirks. "You're cute when you fuss over me." I have to wonder if this is friend appropriate behavior.

"I am not cute." I say; feeling heat spread over my cheeks and looking away from him. "And I'm merely concerned for your safety." I trail off when I hear the noise of someone moving around above our heads.

Flint chuckles and says, "I think you're cute. — Melissa Simmons

Dad staggered in, eyes eerily lit.
The corners of his mouth foaming spit.
His demons planned an overnight stay.
Mom motioned to take the girls away.
hide them in their rooms, safe in their beds.
We closed the doors, covered our heads,
as if the blankets could mute the sounds of his blows
or we could silence her screams behind out pillows.
I hugged the littlest ones close to my chest,
till the beat of my heart lulled them to rest.
Only then did I let myself cry.
Only then did I let myself wonder why
Mom didn't fight back, didn't defend,
didn't confess to family or friend.
Had Dad's demons claimed her soul?
Or was this, as well, a woman's role? — Ellen Hopkins

His chest, heaving harder this time. His words, almost gasping this time. "You destroy me."
I am falling to pieces in his arms.
My fists are full of unlucky pennies and my heart is a jukebox demanding a few nickels and my head is flipping quarters heads or tails heads or tails heads or tails heads or tails
"Juliette," he says, and he mouths the name, barely speaking at all, and he's pouring molten lava into my limbs and I never even knew I could melt straight to death.
"I want you," he says. He says "I want all of you. I want you inside and out and catching your breath and aching for me like I ache for you." He says it like it's a lit cigarette lodged in his throat, like he wants to dip me in warm honey and he says "It's never been a secret. I've never tried to hide that from you. I've never pretended I wanted anything less. — Tahereh Mafi

To trust yourself, to be yourself, to become yourself is neither narcissistic nor prideful. It is mature faith. It is discovering who you were meant to be as the fullest expression of honoring the One who created you. — Kyndall Rae Rothaus

We may trust God with our past as heartily as with our future. It will not hurt us so long as we do not try to hide things, so long as we are ready to bow our heads in hearty shame where it is fit we should be ashamed. For to be ashamed is a holy and blessed thing. Shame is a thing to shame only those who want to appear, not those who want to be. Shame is to shame those who want to pass their examination, not those who would get into the heart of things ... . To be humbly ashamed is to be plunged in the cleansing bath of truth. — George MacDonald

First of all, don't ever let them try to define that word "happiness" for themselves. They can't and that's precisely what we never want them to realize. Keep it a vague bright mist hovering about their heads. Locate it securely at the end of implausible rainbows. Hide it snugly in some corner of their thoughts they rarely visit. — Geoffrey Wood

So, I created these creatures called The Frightened Ones which in the film you see do have mask like kind of heads and they run beneath the ground to hide. Which is what in fact we did during the war. — Gerald Scarfe

I love being a struggling artist; it makes me feel very alive. — Jonathan Evison

Our turn," Joan whispers.
She sparks to life a small sphere of light, maybe the size of a globe, right above the audience's heads. And then she breathes life into it, slowly expanding it, like she's blowing up the world's most brilliant, glimmering balloon.
I whisper beside her, "Incredible." Because despite how dangerous magic can be - how it's been used to hide murders, cover up robberies, send people spiraling into the throes of addiction - there's just no denying that it is. — Lee Kelly

Teens want to read something that isn't a lie; we adults wish we could put our heads under the blankets and hide from the scary story we're writing for our kids. — Paolo Bacigalupi

Each day, we're making sandcastles I know will be washed away. I long for something solid, lasting, strong between us. — Glennon Doyle Melton

Now that's an Okay that really means Okay, not that Okay that women use that means everything but Okay. — Laurell K. Hamilton

The happiest field in all the harvest is the field of sunflowers at their peak. Drinking the rays and dancing in the breeze. The saddest field is the same field, six weeks later. Drunk on the sun and burnt with shame, they drop their heads to hide their mane. — R.S. Barrington

Occasionally the poster pictures a pair of cyclists; and then one grasps the fact how much superior for purposes of flirtation is the modern bicycle to the old-fashioned parlour or the played-out garden gate. He and she mount their bicycles, being careful, of course, that such are of the right make. After that they have nothing to think about but the old sweet tale. Down shady lanes, through busy towns on market days, merrily roll the wheels of the "Bermondsey Company's Bottom Bracket Britain's Best," or of the "Camberwell Company's Jointless Eureka." They need no pedalling; they require no guiding. Give them their heads, and tell them what time you want to get home, and that is all they ask. While Edwin leans from his saddle to whisper the dear old nothings in Angelina's ear, while Angelina's face, to hide its blushes, is turned towards the horizon at the back, the magic bicycles pursue their even course. — Jerome K. Jerome