Hitting Back Quotes & Sayings

Marcus couldn't believe it. Dead. A dead duck. OK, he'd been trying to hit it on the head with a piece of sandwich, but he tried to do all sorts of things, and none of them had ever happened before. He'd tried to get the highest score on the Stargazer machine in the kabab shop on Hornsey road - nothing. He'd tried to read Nicky's thoughts by staring at the back of his head every maths lesson for a week - nothing. It really annoyed him that the only thing he'd ever achieved through trying was something he hadn't really wanted to do that much in the first place. And anyway, since when did hitting a bird with a sandwich ever kill it? People spend half their lives throwing things at the ducks in Regent's Park. How come he managed to pick a duck that pathetic? — Nick Hornby

She got fired?" Confusion laced Gavin's voice. "When?"
"This morning," Dante muttered.
"Why?" Gavin asked. "What did she do?"
"Me," Dante said.
"Oh." A moment of silence passed before Gavin broke out into laughter. "Ah man, really? She lost her job for fucking around with you?"
"I don't see why that's so funny."
"Because," Gavin said, "you're the worst consolation prize ever."
Dante shot right back up, and Matty barely had enough time to move out of the way before the bottle of water hurled by him, hitting Gavin in the chest. — J.M. Darhower

The ground went out from under her. She sucked in a breath, flailing for balance. Arms came around her waist from behind, jerking her back, keeping her feet in the air.
She fought, feeling his chest at her back, but he was too strong.
"Damn it," he said, his voice strained. "Do you want to go in the water?"
That forced her still. Red and white lights still hung in the distance, warring with the stars. Now that she wasn't running the sound of waves hitting the rocks was unmistakable.
And right in front of her.
"The water?" she said numbly.
He put her feet on the ground, but he didn't let her go. "Yeah. Water. Did you miss the part where I said we're parked on a peninsula? — Brigid Kemmerer

Forgiveness means it finally becomes unimportant that you hit back. You're done. It doesn't necessarily mean that you want to have lunch with the person. If you keep hitting back, you stay trapped in the nightmare ... — Anne Lamott

I hit her. I'm not one for hitting women . . . or anyone else for that matter. In fact I'm not one for hitting anything liable to hit back, but given the choice between a hefty man and a slightly built woman I'll punch out the woman every time. — Mark Lawrence

Life is one long series of punches to the gut. You either learn how to duck, or you figure out how to hit back. I've been hitting back so long, at this point I've got a mean left hook and more than my fair share of scars. — Julie Johnson

Now I know that strange things happen to your body when it meets the snow at 100 mph, no matter what the position. In the twinkling of hitting the snow I regained a proper respect for speed. If you are inattentive, as well as somewhat stupid, you may breed a contempt for big speeds, forgetting respect through the grace of being atop your skis each run. No one on his back at 100 mph will ever after have contempt for speed. — Dick Dorworth

I always loved hitting a low fade to a back-right pin with the wind howling from the right. Not many guys could get it close in that situation, because they kept it low by just putting the ball back in their stance. You see, playing the ball back turns you into a one-trick pony - you can only hit hooks. — Lee Trevino

returned, smiling back. "Where's Rhonda?" Dean asked when she was four steps from the bottom and Dusty's head turned her dad's way. "Bedroom," she muttered, hitting the bottom of the — Kristen Ashley

Babies are the worst roommates. They're unemployed. They don't pay rent. They keep insane hours. Their hygiene is horrible. If you had a roommate that did any of the things babies do, you'd ask them to move out. "Do you remember what happened last night? Today you're all smiles, but last night you were hitting the bottle really hard. Then you started screaming, and you threw up on me. Then you passed out and wet yourself. I went into the other room to get you some dry clothes, I came back, and you were all over my wife's breasts! Right in front of me, her husband! Dude, you gotta move out. — Jim Gaffigan

In a flash, he was on his feet, running towards Michaels. But the hotshot cop had fired three perfect shots, strategically hitting both rear tires and taking out the back window. A sniper. The truck swerved in the street and hit the guardrail hard. Judge — A.E. Via

Stupid deer," I said, embarrassed about being startled. "We need a ladder."
"I think they're easier to shoot with a rifle."
"I'm not talking about the deer," I said, hitting Milo on the back of his shoulder. "We need a ladder to look over the wall."
"Or a catapult," Milo said seriously. — Obert Skye

Good God, that felt amazing."
"Hitting me?"
"Yes," I said, glaring back at him breifly. — Courtney Allison Moulton

The positions I played, every play, I was making contact, not like that Deion Sanders. He couldn't tackle my wife. He's back there dancing out there instead of hitting. — Chuck Bednarik

Rina!" I shouted, but the radio was up loud -something sad and gooey- and she didn't hear me. I hit the horn, twice, startling the minivan with a Pro-Choice sticker in front of me, which quickly changed lanes. We kept cruising neck and neck, with Rina full-out brawling now, singing along with the radio, tears running down her face, completely oblivious to both me and the speed limit. I reached under my seat and searched around until I came up with an empty plastic Coke bottle, which I then hurled at her windshield. she jerked back from the wheel as it bounced off, then whipped her around, eyes wide, and finally saw me.
"Shit!" she screamed, hitting the automatic window control to open the one nearest me. "What the hell are you doing? — Sarah Dessen

A lot of hitters stay away from the plate, some are close up, some are forward, some are back. The thing about hitting is this: You have to know the strike zone. That's the most important thing. Hit strikes and put the bat on the ball. — Stan Musial

I was thinking about hitting races and stuff, but it's just, I think it's more of the era of when I was a kid and it just brings back memories. I gotta just chill and live in the past. — Matt Skiba

He'd actually hit me! It didn't matter that hitting me wasn't really like hitting a regular girl and I'd be completely healed in a matter of hours. I was still a freaking girl, and he damned well knew it. I'd just have to hit him back. With a lead pipe. Or an eighteen-wheeler. — Darynda Jones

Be yourself one hundred and one thousand percent. Everybody man, from the sides to the back to the middle to the sides, you might not even know people, but if you rock with Lil B music and respect me from the core, you should know that based means you have someone you can trust, because we all have a common courtesy. It's about having empathy now. What I mean is really caring and paying attention to somebody else's feeling. You gotta have empathy and know we all on this common vibe. It's all peace. It's saying, hey, you know what, you can hit me and I'm not hitting you back. And that takes a very big person to do that. — Brandon McCartney

Embrace the anxiety of confronting your emotions because it's often the emotional hitting of rock bottom that ignites our resolve to get back to the top. — Sam Owen

No.
Chaol thought he had not heard it, the word that cleaved through the air just before the guard's sword did.
One blow from that mighty sword.
That was all it took to sever Sorscha's head.
The scream that erupted out of Dorian was the worst sound that Chaol had ever heard.
Worse even than the wet, heavy thud of her head hitting the red marble.
Aedion began roaring - roaring and cursing at the king, thrashing against his chains, but the guards hauled him away, and Chaol was too stunned to do anything other than watch the rest of Sorscha's body topple to the ground. And then Dorian, still screaming, was scrambling through the blood toward it - toward her head, as if he could put it back.
As if he could piece her together. — Sarah J. Maas

A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon;
The kid that handles the music-box was hitting a jag-time tune;
Back of the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew,
And watching his luck was his light-o'-love, the lady that's known as Lou.
When out of the night, which was fifty below, and into the din and the glare,
There stumbled a miner fresh from the creeks, dog-dirty, and loaded for bear.
He looked like a man with a foot in the grave and scarcely the strength of a louse,
Yet he tilted a poke of dust on the bar, and he called for drinks for the house.
There was none could place the stranger's face, though we searched ourselves for a clue;
But we drank his health, and the last to drink was Dangerous Dan McGrew. — Robert W. Service

You're the only one in control over your golf ball. It's not like tennis: you're hitting a shot and somebody's hitting it back at you. — Lee Westwood

He [Ted Williams] was only a 23-year-old kid when he batted .406 in 1941, but then the season ended and our country came under attack at Pearl Harbor - and by 1943 he was a Marine fighter pilot serving overseas who cheated death on several documented occasions. He came back in 1946, and he won his first career MVP after hitting 38 home runs. — Tucker Elliot

Come on! Don't hold back," Christian said.
"I'm not, " Lissa protested.
"You are too! I've seen you knock on a door harder than you're hitting me. "
"That's a ridiculous metaphor. "
"And, " he added, "you aren't aiming for my face. "
"I don't want to leave a mark!"
"Well, at the rate we're going, there's no danger of that, " he muttered — Richelle Mead

I was snagged around the midriff and thrown back to the bed, my head hitting the pillows, and Vance Crowe rolled his body over mine. I stilled and looked up into his dark, lushy-lashed eyes.
"Oh my God," I breathed.
"Mornin'," he said to me, like we woke up next to each other every day.
"Oh my God," I breathed again.
His hair was not in a ponytail but falling down around his face and shoulders and, I kid you not, he looked like a Native American Warrior God.
"Do I have your attention?" he asked. — Kristen Ashley

I don't like seeing you hit."
"Well, to be quite honest, I don't like being hit unless it's by you." As soon as it was out of my mouth, I realized what I had said. "That sounded all sorts of wrong."
"Insanely so, actually."
"To be clear," I said to any overhearing ears, "I hit him back
"
"Hard."
"It's a very give-and-take, non-abuse type hitting situation ... "
The sides of Liam's mouth folded up like an accordion. "You should probably stop now."
"I'm trying. My mouth keeps moving of its own accord. — Tammy Blackwell

If I wanted to punish myself, I'd keep looking at your face."
"Isn't my face in half the pictures taped to your bunk wall?"
"Maybe I keep them there to scare away the devil."
"Just show him your feet," he said, going for her weak spot. She had adorable toes, but she hated that her second one was longer than the first. "He'll run screaming back to hell with his forked tail between his legs."
"Keep talking and I'll send you there to meet him."
"I'll say hello to your demon-spawn mother while I'm there."
"Try not to wet yourself like you did at the palace."
"Hey!" He drew back an inch. That was hitting below the belt. "I was only four when that happened, and your mom was legitimately scary. — Melissa Landers

What on earth is that?"
"My wedding crown."
"You're getting married?" Bran asked and he looked even more amused than Mithala, as if he had not had this much fun in a long, long time. Shea debated hitting him.
"Not if I can help it," she said, "I don't think Rook would approve the groom."
Rook turned to give her a stern look. "If he lives under the water, I most certainly will not. I'm not prejudiced, normaly, but I don't wish to have a fish as a son-in-law. It would ruin the holidays, what with him dripping water al over the floor." There was a moment of startled silence, then Bran, Mithala, and Shea burst into laughter. Galen was glaring at them al. "Fools, this is not the time for jest."
Bran choked back his laughter for a moment."Sir elf, if now is not the time, then there will never be one; running over dry land from the wrath of fishes is nothing but a jest."
"Mercenaries," Galen spat with disgust, leaping onto his mare. — Kaiya Hart

You're touching me," I chided him.
He caressed my back, sliding his hand down, hitting every sensitive point I hadn't even known I had. "No, this is touching you. That was just accidental contact."
"Oh? Good to know. If you touch me again and I break your arm off, you can be sure it will be completely accidental. — Ilona Andrews

Clean," Peter said.
"Can I get a water bottle or something to clean his hands?" I scanned the crowd. He drew my attention back to him with a pull of my hand.
"No," Peter said. "I'm ... clean."
I had missed who Peter was until that very moment ...
I broke. It wasn't a visible fracture. I didn't sob or explode into anguish. I didn't give in to my vomitus urge that came from the burst of self-loathing. But I shattered nonetheless.
"Well, you look filthy," I said, hitting redial on his phone and jamming it to my ear. — Dani Alexander

If you've got a stick hitting a drum and you're programming it on a computer, it's more interesting than a sample playing back - it's something in the air, that's the magical ingredient. — Aphex Twin

The cash held by US companies are hitting all time records. Companies are using some of this money to buy back their own stock at record rates. When a company is doing this it is saying to it's investors: We don't have any good ideas what to do with this, so here--maybe you do. — Geoff Colvin

Here is a fact
that should help you fight
a bit stronger
Things that don't
actually kill you outright
make you stronger.
Put up in a place
where it is easy to see
the cryptic admonishment
T.T.T
When you feel how depressingly
slowly you climb
it's well to remember that
Things Take Time.
Problems worthy
of attack
prove their worth
by hitting back! — Piet Hein

The leaders I met, whatever walk of life they were from, whatever institutions they were presiding over, always referred back to the same failure something that happened to them that was personally difficult, even traumatic, something that made them feel that desperate sense of hitting bottom-as something they thought was almost a necessity. It's as if at that moment the iron entered their soul; that moment created the resilience that leaders need. — Warren G. Bennis

Britt-Marie feels Fredrik's hateful stare at her back as she and Vega follow her down the corridor, so she slows and walks behind Vega, to stop his stares hitting the girl. — Fredrik Backman

A boomerang returns back to the person who throws it.
But first, while moving in a circle, it hits its target.
So does gossip. — Vera Nazarian

Problems worthy of attacks, prove their worth by hitting back — Adam Smith

With shorter clubs, your ball position should be just back of middle, to really promote hitting the ball first on a downward strike. — Ernie Els

Lightning struck five feet away.
Becca screamed.
Then lightning hit the other end of the bridge, almost directly
hitting the Guide.
Chris froze.
Another bolt, five feet off. The man darted back, away from
the bridge, fighting to keep his footing in the wind.
Another bolt. And another. Lightning rained from the sky,
targeting their enemy.
The Guide ran.
"Yeah," growled a voice from behind them. "Watch that fucker run now. — Brigid Kemmerer

So what are you doing next Friday night?"
"What have you got in mind?"
"We could try hitting each other with cars," she suggested cheerfully.
"Did that last weekend with Jase," he said with mock regret.
"Go to the zoo and throw ourselves to the lions?" she fired back quickly, desperate to keep him focused on her rather than his caved-in chest.
"The Romans sort of wore that one out. Got anything original?"
"I'll think of something," she warned him.
"Can't wait! — Josephine Angelini

I wish people would stop hitting Po," whispered Bitterblue.
"Well," Giddon said. "Yes. I'm hoping Skye is following my model. Punch Po; go on a long trip; feel better; come back and make up. — Kristin Cashore

We have to be more careful," she said. "I don't have the time or energy for a broken heart." He felt a squeeze in his chest. "I wasn't planning to break your heart, Kate." Her eyes fell to the floor before rising back to his. "Nobody ever does." A fist tightened in his gut as he watched her retreat. He stood there for a long time, her words hitting hard, sinking deep. She'd been let down by a lot of people, and his name wasn't going to be added to the list. — Denise Hunter

Once they were sitting at the kitchen table opposite each other. To his right and to her left was a window. Furious at something he drew his right hand across his body and lashed out. Half way there at full speed he realized it was a window he would be hitting and breaked. For a fraction of a second hid open palm touched the glass, beginning simultaneously to draw back. The window scarred and crumpled slowly two floors down. His hand miraculously uncut. It had acted exactly like a whip violating the target and still free, retreating from the outline of a star. She was delighted by the performance. Surprised he examined his fingers. [p.16] — Michael Ondaatje

I was an only, and often lonely, child. After they'd had me, my parents, who'd met back in Pakistan when they were both around forty, had decided against tempting fate a second time. I remember how I would eye with envy all the kids in our neighborhood, in my school, who had a little brother or sister. How bewildered I was by the way some of them treated each other, oblivious to their own good luck. They acted like wild dogs. Pinching, hitting, pushing, betraying one another any way they could think of. Laughing about it too. They wouldn't speak to one another. I didn't understand. Me, I spent most of my early years craving a sibling. — Khaled Hosseini

Fuck," I groan, my voice gritty, my eyes closing as I tilt my head back. Her hand is warm, her skin velvety soft, but her touch is firm as she strokes, hitting just the right places to set me off. Her thumb massages the sweet spot on the underside of my cock, the sensitive outer ridges of the head, right where those nerve endings are bundled.
Jesus, this woman knows her anatomy.
A+
Top marks.
Summa cum laude.
Valedictorian of her motherfucking class. — J.M. Darhower

She looked at Mad Rogan. "What did you do?"
Mad Rogan opened his mouth.
She turned to me. "What did he do?"
"He got hit by a car," I said.
The woman pivoted back to Mad Rogan. "Why in the world would you do a stupid thing like that?"
Mad Rogan opened his mouth again to say something.
"Don't you have an army of badasses to keep this exact thing from happening?"
"I..."
The woman turned to me. "What kind of car was it?"
"An armored Escalade," I said.
"Well, at least it was a nice car." She turned to Mad Rogan. "Who would want to ruin their nice car by hitting you with it?"
Mad Rogan sucked in a slow breath and let it out.
"Got you in the ribs, huh?" The woman waved. "Load both of them up."
"I can..." Mad Rogan started.
She pointed to a stretcher. "Down."
Mad Rogan lay down on the stretcher. — Ilona Andrews

He had spent his life running, secrets spitting at his back. With the coach clocking him, Kevin took flight, his feet hitting the ground and pulling back with tremendous speed. Demons--visions of the eager hands of pretty boys with firm bodies--chased him, chipping away at the space separating them, their claws a whisper away from his flesh. He ran until he felt his lungs would give out; like a madman he ran. — Brenda Sutton Rose

Big Jason walked into the club, stared at the band beginning their sound check and quickly walked over to the bar. Lily looked up from her rinsing and smiled.
"Big Jason Gulliver, back in town. Raquel said Godzilla returned to Tokyo, I wondered how soon you'd drop by here".

"Front me a soda, Lily. How's the night club racket?" Jason barked over the noisy band.
"Guys still hitting on me, including your stupid friend King Steve", Lily shot a jet of soda pop from her beverage gun into a water glass.
Jason chortled. "He's slow on the draw. You're a fuckin' dyke but a cool fuckin' dyke. I don't even care if you sleep with my girl".
"Why thank you, Caveman", Lily smiled, handing him the soda with a cherry on top. — Andy Seven

I quit my day job the day my daughter was born. I remember flying to Cleveland and hitting a thunderstorm, which caused the plane to lose pressure, and the oxygen masks fell from the ceiling. We felt the plane dropping; the pilot was taking it down to regain cabin pressure. My heart was in my stomach. I found out after landing that her mom was in labor. I did the show and came back to New York. By the time I walked into the hospital, my daughter was being born. She was waiting for me. She's a sweet daddy's girl. She's premed. She has her own pie company. She works for Habitat for Humanity. — J. B. Smoove

And then I did something really stupid: I reached back and smacked him across the face with as much strength as I was capable of, which wasn't much, but enough to leave a red mark. The sound of my hand hitting his face seemed to echo inside the large room. "I'm not entirely human either," I hissed without flinching away from him. — D.T. Dyllin

Suddenly, the spark became a flame and his mouth was on her, her words swallowed as his hands found her waist and pushed, her feet stumbling, her back - that damn dress - hitting the counter. She tasted of sweet fucking rebellion, her tongue softening, accepting. Then both of her hands were on his chest, and her adorable, tiny knee came up hard between his legs. — Alessandra Torre

Then like a bird, he gingerly landed on a protruding rock inside the monstrous cavern. I looked up at the wet walls teaming with sea life and reeled back feeling like I was going to lose my balance when I felt him reach around and carefully lift me off. He placed me so I could stand on the rock in front of him. His strong arms wrapped tightly around me so I wouldn't fall. We stood in astonishment deafened by the noise of the waves hitting the reef all around us. The warmth of his chest radiated against me. I molded my body up against his, my heart erupting in a flutter that caused my legs to weaken.
"What do you think?" he whispered into my ear. I felt his hot breath against the side of my neck, which caused me to be light-headed as my heart raced even harder.
"Awesome," I whispered, which was all I could get out as I slinked into his chest a little bit more. — Brenda Pandos

Revenge is like waves hitting the beach, the water is drawn in and sucked back into yet another wave, pounding and smashing its shoreline! — Wes Adamson

As a child, I once suffered a bad fall that resulted in scratched palms and scraped knees. I remember how badly it stung, the cold air hitting my bleeding wounds; I felt that I couldn't stand up for the pain. Through a veil of tears, I recall a kind hand reaching for me and helping me to my feet. My knees and palms were washed clean, and I remember thinking that for the rest of my life, I wanted to help people stand back up. — Richelle E. Goodrich

It had actually been a year since I'd finally broken up with Glen. I'd moved in with him after two dates (I would have made a great lesbian) and things had gone downhill quickly. How well I remembered our last morning together. He'd woken me early one morning by hitting me in the face with his cock and demanding a before-work blowjob. Since he'd been out all night without me and the dick he'd just assaulted me with smelled of eau de lubricant, I'd refused to open my mouth. I'd given his balls a twist I hoped he was still feeling and headed back to Gran's. — Nick Pageant

Sorry!' Dave's friend yelled when he saw me. 'That was my-' But i wasn't listening as,instead,i took every bit of the anger and stress of the last few minutes and days put it behind the ball, throwing it overhead at the basket as hard as i could. It went flying, hitting the backboard and banging through the netless hoop at full speed before shooting back out and nailing Dave Wade squarely on the forehead. And just like that, he was down. — Sarah Dessen

I'm substantially concerned about the policy directions of the space agency. We have a situation in the U.S. where the White House and Congress are at odds over what the future direction should be. They're sort of playing a game and NASA is the shuttlecock that they're hitting back and forth. — Neil Armstrong

But I have been hitting for a week now and trying to get back into some sort of routine because I need to play well at tournaments, — Kim Clijsters

Okay." She gave a quick snort when Margaret went out. "You're such a dork."
"Excuse me?"
"She was hitting on you and you're, like, oblivious."
"She wasn't hitting on me and you're not supposed to talk that way."
"Was too." Maddy slid onto a stool at the bar. "Women know these things."
"Maybe, but you don't qualify as a woman."
"I've had my period."
He'd started to drink, had to set the glass back down as he winced. "Please."
"It's a biological function. And when a female is physically able to conceive, she is, physically, a
woman."
"Fine. Great." It wasn't a debate he wanted to enter into. "Shut up." He let the wine, such as it
was, lie on his tongue. It was unsophisticated to say the least, highly acidic and oversweet thanks to
the sugar she must have adde — Nora Roberts

All the screen cowboys behaved like real gentlemen. They didn't drink, they didn't smoke. When they knocked the bad guy down, they always stood with their fists up, waiting for the heavy to get back on his feet. I decided I was going to drag the bad guy to his feet and keep hitting him. — John Wayne

Bird looked back at Pastor. *Why did you bite Jeremy?*
*Because I felt like it.*
*Is it out of your system now? Feel better now?*
*Actually, I do*
Jeremy piped in; *No big deal. He bit, I kicked; we're even*
...
No wonder horses get messed up. By the time people get around it hitting them, the horses have forgotten the whole thing. — Shelley Peterson

Harry had the best morning he'd had in a long time. He was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting him. — J.K. Rowling

I know what you're thinking," Ellis said, hitting the key remote in his hand. "It's pretty much the most stunning example of vehicular perfection
ever."
We all stood there, watching as the back door of the sky blue van slid open, revealing two rows of seats, the rear of which was stacked with
soccer balls and various pairs of cleats.
"Don't try to point out to him that it is just a minivan," Heather said, climbing into the backseat and pushing a ball onto the floor. "We've tried. — Sarah Dessen

I stabbed him," Lizzy said bluntly. "That's how he got that scar."
"Why? I'm sorry. That's personal. I shouldn't ask that." She blushed.
"It's okay." Lizzy laid a hand on the woman's arm. "I was mad at a woman for flirting with him and he tried to take the knife away from me. It was an accident."
"I'll be right back with your drinks and appetizer." She turned so fast that she ran into a bus boy with a tray of dirty glasses and he had to do some fancy footwork to keep it all from hitting the floor.
"Lying on Sunday?" Toby chuckled. "The preacher will make you deliver the benediction next week as penance."
-Lizzy, a waitress and Toby — Carolyn Brown

So, you're hitting on Clare the Fair."
"I'm not hitting on her. I'm exploring the possibility of seeing her on social terms."
"He's hitting on her," Owen said around a mouthful of chips. "You've still got that thing you had for her back in high school. Are you still writing bad song lyrics about heartbreak?"
"Suck me. And they weren't that bad."
"Yeah, they were," Ryder disagreed. "But at least now we don't have to listen to you playing your keyboard and howling them down the hall. — Nora Roberts

Iris arched her back, pushing her breast farther into Wyatt's hungry mouth. Water from the giant marble-tiled hotel shower rushed down over them, the sound of it hitting the glass door seeming loud in the enclosure. He lightly pressed down with his teeth and tugged her nipple, sending a pulsing sweep of need through her. The man was too talented with his tongue. — Katie Reus

Outside, the ocean was crashing, waves hitting sand, then pulling back to sea. I thought of everything being washed away, again and again. We make such messes in this life, both accidentally and on purpose. But wiping the surface clean doesn't really make anything neater. It just masks what is below. It's only when you really dig down deep, go underground, that you can see who you really are. — Sarah Dessen

A wave of blood goes up to my head, my stomach shrinks together, as if something dangerous has just missed hitting me. It's as if I've been caught stealing, or telling a lie; or as if I've heard other people talking about me, saying bad things about me, behind my back. There's the same flush of shame, of guilt and terror, and of cold disgust with myself. But I don't know where these feelings have come from, what I've done. — Margaret Atwood

I got my deal off MySpace. I wrote to J.R. Rotem. He is big producer. He's done a lot of stuff for Rihanna, 50 Cent, Britney Spears and etc. I thought, "Yo, this guy is really talented I want to work with him." Once I sent him message he didn't reply back. I kept on sending the messages. I kept on hitting him back like eight times a day. He eventually replied back like, "Yo, I want to hear more music." — Sean Kingston

It's always the same story: It's not 'violence' until somebody hits you back. Till then, you don't notice your guys hitting the other tribe. That's just normal background noise. It takes blood, buckets of it, to get a person's attention. And not just anybody's blood--it's gotta be your own, or that of a close relative. Otherwise it's just spots on the sidewalk. — Gary Brecher

Hey, Ambs, you have a good day?"
Jake asked as i got in the car.
"actually yeah i did, right up until the very end when some slut hit on me," i answered with a shrug. Jake immediately slapped Liam around the back of the head.
"Ouch, shith, what was that for?" Liam asked, rubbing his head.
"for hitting on my little sister." Jake shrugged.
"How did you know it was me? — Kirsty Moseley

I fight, knock them out, have some sex and Monday I'm back to hitting bags and kicking ass. — Adrien Broner

If you're strutting around Beverly Hills and hitting up these big industry parties every night when you're not making movies, then it's going to eventually consume you. But for me, I live most of my life in Boston. I do things no different from the way my buddies back home do them, except when I go to work, I go to a film set. — Chris Evans

Yeah, I'm going to go back (after hitting his 500th home run, but commenting on reaching the 3,000 hit plateau) to my Punch-and-Judy days, hit the ball the other way, start bunting the ball a little bit. — Rafael Palmeiro

The Cheerful Fairy was quite short and plump in a tweed skirt and shoes so sensible they could do their own tax returns, and was pretty much like the first teacher you get at school, the one who has special training in dealing with nervous incontinence and little boys whose contribution to the wonderful world of sharing consists largely of hitting a small girl repeatedly over the head with a wooden horse. In fact, this picture was helped by the whistle on a string around her neck and a general impression that at any moment she would clap her hands. The tiny gauzy wings just visible on her back were probably just for show, but the wizards kept on staring at her shoulder. — Terry Pratchett

To hear that you're doing something that other people are enjoying, it's a fun game. It's like hitting a tennis ball over the net, and somebody hits it back. That's what it feels like with the fans. It feels like someone else is participating in my creation, and it's quite incredible. — Kristin Bauer Van Straten

They were probably hitting the town. I hoped it was hitting them back. — Lemony Snicket

He's not doing anything he shouldn't be doing, right?"
"Like what?"
"Like hitting on you."
"Ew. No, of course not. He doesn't see me that way."
Michael shook his head and went back to his coffee.
"What? You think he does?"
"Sometimes he looks at you a little ... oddly, that's all. Maybe you're right. Maybe he just wants you for your blood."
"Again, Ew! What's with you this morning?"
"Not enough coffee. — Rachel Caine

As Cal Bocock sat in the back of the Astoria patol car, he realized his earlier feeling of hitting a low point had been a false alarm. He now fully expected he would die in police custody, in the hands of those he had been pursuing all these months. — Joey Ledford

I know you want her back, kid. And I know that people saying things like 'there are plenty more fish in the sea' is only going to make you hurt more. And I could tell you all about the science of what your brain is going through right now. How it's processing a pain as intense as hitting a nerve in your tooth, but it can't find a source for that pain, so you kind of feel it everywhere. I could tell you that when you fall for someone, the bits of your brain that light up are the same as when you're hungry or thirsty. And I could tell you that when the person you love leaves you, you starve for them, you crave them, Heartbreak is a science, like love. So trust me when I say this: you're wounded right now, but you'll heal. — Krystal Sutherland

As I said in the chipping chapter, I don't want the grip end of the club moving very far. If you get the idea that you need to make a faster swing with your arms doing most of the work, the first thing that's going to happen is that the pulling action of the left arm will send your left shoulder up, tilt your spine back, away from the target, move the bottom of your swing way behind the ball, and there it is - a fat shot, or a skull from hitting it on the upswing. Think of it as a bigger pivot and you'll start to feel the chain reaction — Stan Utley

I also watched boxing all the time and Tuesday Night Fights on USA and just kept hitting my heavy back in the garage. — Robbie Lawler

Hearing wulfen howl is ... well, it's horrible. The sound is glassy, hovering at the upper ranges of hearing, and it's full of paws on snow and running with the icy wind hitting the back of your throat like stares. Underneath the glassy edge is the song of flesh ripped apart, the sweetness of hot blood, and the savagery of crunching bones with sharp teeth.
The worst part is how it climbs into your brain, pressing itself like a hard sharpness into the soft folds, and drags open the doors socialization slams shut to keep the howling ravening thing down inside down and tame.
The thing on four clawed legs that lives in all of us. — Lilith Saintcrow

[When explaining over reactions to small mistakes] I get swallowed up in the moment, and I can't tell the right response from the wrong response. All I know is that I have to get out of the situation as soon as I can, so I don't drown. To get away, I'll do anything. Crying, screaming and throwing things, hitting out even ... Finally, finally, I'll calm down and come back to myself. Then I see no sign of the tsunami attack
only the wreckage I've made. And when I see that, I hate myself. I just hate myself. — Naoki Higashida

There were so many places in my time with Rogerson that I wished I could go back to, hitting the stop button at just one moment to stop everything that came after. I had so many If Onlys, but each place I thought to stop meant missing something that came later. I needed it all, in the end, to make my own story find its finish. — Sarah Dessen

This isn't over. I won't give up on you."
"I've given up on you," he said back, voice also soft. "Love fades. Mine has."
I stared at him in disbelief. All this time, he'd never phrased it like that. His protests had always been about some greater good, about the remorse he felt over being a monster of how it had scarred him from love. I've given up on you. Love fades. Mine has.
I backed up, the sting of those words hitting me as hard as if he'd slapped me. Something shifted in his features, like maybe he knew how much he'd hurt me. I didn't stick around to see. Instead, I pushed my way out of the aisle and ran out the doors in the back, afraid that if I stayed any longer, everyone in the church would see me cry. — Richelle Mead

Before I met No I thought that violence meant shouting and hitting and war and blood. Now I know that there can also be violence in silence and that it's sometimes invisible to the naked eye. There's violence in the time that conceals wounds, the relentless succession of days, the impossibility of turning back the clock. Violence is what escapes us. It's silent and hidden. Violence is what remains inexplicable, what stays forever opaque ...
My mother stands there at the living room door with her arms by her sides. And I think that there's violence in that too - in her inability to reach out to me, to make the gesture which is impossible and so forever suspended. — Delphine De Vigan

But when I thought I hit bottom, it started hitting back. — Andrea Gibson

Okay, then, if you're sure," he said again and I almost blurted, "I'd consider hitting my mother in the back of the head with a snow shovel if kissing you was in the cards." But I though that would come off as needy. — John Goode

You're going to fly a radioactive ice ball the size of the Death Star back here just as the shit is hitting the fan - then what? — Neal Stephenson

Right now, you know, it's not about the refs or anything else, it's about hitting first, getting on the run and never looking back. — Bill Walton

There was no water at my grandfather's
when I was a kid and would go for it
with two zinc buckets. Down the path,
past the cow by the foundation where
the fine people's house was before
they arranged to have it burned down.
To the neighbor's cool well. Would
come back with pails too heavy,
so my mouth pulled out of shape.
I see myself, but from the outside.
I keep trying to feel who I was,
and cannot. Hear clearly the sound
the bucket made hitting the sides
of the stone well going down,
but never the sound of me. — Jack Gilbert

Eventually, Simon shifts his position, grunting lightly, and then says, "Nice makeover."
"Are you hitting on me?" Harrison jokes.
"All I want is to be your frienemy," Simon jokes back.
"I'm not ready for commitment," Harrison says. "Too young for that. — David Estes

It's about one moment. It's about hitting the wall and having to make a choice, or take a stand, or turn around and go back. — Jason Robert Brown

She stared at him, doing her best to hold back all the tumbling mass of emotions hitting her at once. Normally she was good at that, really good, but naturally her one really good life skill deserted her, leaving everything she felt all over her face. Annoyance. Embarrassment. And let's not forget the very reluctant lust. — Jill Shalvis