I Already Found Him Quotes & Sayings

The Samaritan, the foreigner, makes himself the neighbor and shows me that I have to learn to be a neighbor deep within and that I already have the answer in myself. I have to become like someone in love, someone whose heart is open to being shaken up by another's need. Then I find my neighbor, or - better - then I am found by him. — Pope Benedict XVI

It's destiny; the stars have aligned perfectly to bring us together as friends. You cannot argue with what's meant to be, once the stars have spoken, it is absolute," he uttered, all smug and knowing.
Shocked that he used the word destiny, I cocked my head and shot him a look - for the first time actually seeing Parker. He was pretty ... too pretty to be a guy; streaky blond hair - as if each streak had been strategically placed - dark eyes, pale skin, and a charming smile that dimpled in one cheek.
"Destiny has already found me, with a clearly marked path for my future," I retorted.
"Then you are doubly fortunate, to have it find you twice." Parker smiled again, his eyes eerily piercing into mine.
Parker and Danielle — Deborah Ann

Julie crossed her arms. "I'm serious. Flat Finn can't possibly go to school with her, right?"
"He already went to Brandeis so, no, he doesn't need to repeat seventh grade. Although they did make him take a bunch of tests in order to qualify out. He barely passed the oral exams, though, because the instructors found him withholding and tight-lipped. It's a terribly biased system, but at least he passed and won't have to suffer through the school's annual reenactment of the first Thanksgiving. He has a pilgrim phobia."
"Funny. Really, what's the deal with Flat Finn?"
"After an unfortunate incident involving Wile E. Coyote and an anvil, Three Dimensional Finn had to change his name. — Jessica Park

I once buggered a man unconscious. I'm lying, he was already unconscious when I found him — Tom Deacon

Thus Wendy and John and Michael found the window open for them after all, which of course was more than they deserved. They alighted on the floor, quite unashamed of themselves; and the youngest one had already forgotten his home. 'John,' he said, looking around him doubtfully, 'I think I have been here before.' 'Of course you have, you silly. There is your old bed.' 'So it is,' Michael said, but not with much conviction. 'I say,' cried John, 'the kennel!' and he dashed across to look into it. 'Perhaps Nana is inside it,' Wendy said. But John whistled. 'Hullo,' he said, 'there's a man inside it.' 'It's father!' exclaimed Wendy. — J.M. Barrie

There is a story about the life of Buddha in which a mother carries her dead son to him draped in her arms. The woman has heard that he is a holy man who can restore life. Weeping, she appeals for mercy. Gently, Buddha tells her that he can help save her son's life, but that first she has to bring him a mustard seed secured from a family that has never experienced death. Desperately she searches home after home. Many want to help, but everyone has already experienced a loss--a sister, a husband, a child. Finally the woman returns to Buddha. "What have you found?" he asks. "Where is your mustard seed and where is your son? You are not carrying him."
"I buried him," she replies — Chanrithy Him

There were some times-when things got bad-that I saw something flash across Rogerson's face, like he couldn't believe what he'd done. Like he'd just woken up and found himself standing over me, fist still clenched, looking down in disbelief at the place on my shoulder/arm/stomach/back/leg where he'd just hit me. I wondered if he was thinking of his father, and the marks he'd left behind. And even as I felt the spot with my own fingers, knowing already what the bruise would look like, I felt sorry for him, like for that one second he was just as scared as I was. It was so strange. Sorry for him. — Sarah Dessen

It seems," the undead Tiste Edur said, "my Hounds have found new . . . pets."
"Saw his head off, Cotillion," Shadowthrone said. "I hate him already. — Steven Erikson

Although, since days when we had been at school together, I had been seeing him on and off - very much on and off - for more than twenty years by this time, I found when I worked under him there were still comparatively unfamiliar sides to Widmerpool. Like most persons viewed through the eyes of a subordinate, his nature was to be appreciated with keener insight from below. This new angle of observation revealed, for example, how difficult he was to work with, particularly on account of a secretiveness that derived from perpetual fear, almost obsession, that tasks completed by himself might be attributed to the work of someone else. On that first morning at Division, Widmerpool spoke at length of his own methods. He was already sitting at his table when I arrived in the room. Removing his spectacles, he began to polish them vigorously, assuming at the same time a manner of hearty military geniality. — Anthony Powell

Thank you again," Wax said to her. "I still can't believe you snuck a gun into the party."
"It's only appropriate," Steris said, "that you would make a smuggler out of me."
"Just as you try to make a gentleman out of me."
"You're already a gentleman," Steris said.
Wax looked down at her as she held to him while trying to stare in every direction at once. He suddenly found something burning in him, like a metal. A protectiveness for this woman in his arms, so full of logic and yet so full of wonder at the same time. And a powerful affection.
So he let himself kiss her. She was surprised by it, but melted into the embrace. They started to drift sideways and arc downward as he lost his balance on his anchors, but he held on to the kiss, letting them slip back down into the churning mists. — Brandon Sanderson

Ah, I found you." Came a voice behind me. My heart skipped a beat as a smile spread across my face. How do I already know his voice?
'My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words of thy tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound.' I remembered the line from Romeo and Juliet. I could not forget Ariston's voice if I tried. At the sound, all thoughts of the odd occurrence faded.
I turned around to see Ariston Crete walking towards me. I realized when I saw him that there was a part of my mind that had wondered if he was real, if I had not only imagined his beauty, but clearly I had not. Somehow, he is real, right down to his ancient eyes. It felt just as indescribable to look into his eyes as it had before. — Jasmine Dubroff

We met because Chad was in one of my classes, and I was looking for someone to write music with. I knew that he wrote his own music, and he seemed nice, so I found out he was going to be in a practice room, practicing his trumpet. He'd already said he was too busy to hang out or hear any new people or work on any music, so I stalked him. — Ian Axel

Many authors also attacked the widespread corruption among lawyers. In general, justice was recognized as being so unjust that, as Montaigne complained, ordinary people avoided it rather than seeking it out. He cited a local incident in which a group of peasants found a man lying stabbed and bleeding on a path. He begged them to give him water and help him to his feet, but they ran off, not daring to touch him in case they were held responsible for the attack. Montaigne had the job of talking to them after they were tracked down. "What could I say to them?" he wrote. They were right to be afraid. In another case he mentions, a gang of killers confessed to a murder for which someone had already been tried and was about to be executed. Surely this ought to mean a stay of execution? No, decided the court: that would set a dangerous precedent for overturning judgments. — Sarah Bakewell

Hunted what?" Shea held her breath, afraid of what he might say.
"Beautiful women, little one, and I was the one who found you after all." His white teeth gleamed at her, a definite leer.
"Don't put me off like that." She had already taken advantage, sliding easily into his mind and picking out the pictures of danger and revulsion. Fear even. Not so much of their adversary, but of themselves turning into the very thing they sought to destroy.
Jacques, unprepared for her entrance into his mind, had been confident he could keep the grimmer side of their existence watered down for her. Shea had always been reluctant to enter his mind; it hadn't occurred to him that she would do so whenever she wanted.
His expression was so rueful that Shea burst out laughing. "Where I grew up, that's called being caught with your pants down."
He looked down at his body, glistening with the rain. His grin was self-mocking, his black eyes amused. "Literally. — Christine Feehan

She studied him. Then the sword burst to mist, vaporizing. She lowered her arm. "I don't have time for you. A storm is coming, a terrible storm. It will bring the Voidbringers to - " "Already here." "Damnation. We need to find Urithiru and - " "Already found." She hesitated. "The Knights - " "Refounded," Wit said. "In part by your apprentice who, I might add, is exactly seventy-seven percent more agreeable than you are. I took a poll." "You're lying." "Okay, so it was a rather informal poll. But the ugly lizard-crab-thing gave you really poor marks for - — Brandon Sanderson

Day One, Morning The Dempsey Penthouse, New York On the morning the ships came, Meyer Dempsey found himself preoccupied with drugs, sex, and business. It would have been hard to believe that just six days later, only one of the three would seem to matter. "You're not listening to me, Heather," he said into the phone. "I'm going to be in LA from Friday to Tuesday. I've already booked time with the studio on Monday. The whole reason I'm coming early is - " Heather cut him off, probably to feed her need for a zinger more than a reply that couldn't wait. Heather was always "on," never really able to take a break and just be a person for once. It was one of the reasons they hadn't been able to stay married. It was like living with a jester. "Because you want to do the Walk — Sean Platt

The interview went well. I found him warm but not eager, friendly but slightly impersonal, and he answered all questions concerning music with an engaging straightforwardness. Nonmusical questions he either evaded with the skill of an expert, or ignored, apparently from lack of interest in the subjects broached. Already he had the gift of fielding impertinent questions by offering quotable evasions instead. For instance, I remember asking him if he was a religious person. He replied that he didn't want to talk about religion.
"Why not?" I pursued.
"Because my music is so very odd already that I see no reason to make myself sound any odder. — Philip Glass

Judd returned during the last hour of my Friday shift. Without seeing him coming as I wiped a table, I knew something was up because two large burly men flinched.
Turning, I found Judd moving fast towards me. Before I could speak, his hands cupped my face and his lips were on mine.
Murmuring at the deepening kiss, I tossed aside the wash towel and wrapped my arms around his waist. He felt like perfection.
Judd pulled away and stated to speak then his gaze focused on the two men watching us and smiling. His dark stare killed their enthusiasm and they returned to eating.
"Back less than a minute and you're already losing me tips," I teased, causing Judd to smile grudging. "You taste like peppermint."
"I slept for shit and chewing gum keeps me alert."
Caressing his lips, I couldn't stop grinning. "You're so fucking beautiful and you're mine. How did that happen?"
Judd finally gave me a great smile. "I laid eyed on you and was done for. — Bijou Hunter

All I could think was that he, too, was going to war; that he, too, was leaving Deyning, leaving my world. I'd only just found him, only just realized that the universe included someone named Tom Cuthbert and now he was about to disappear. It seemed already the war had found me. — Judith Kinghorn

She leaned down until they were eye to eye. "His wife loved him. That's no bullshit. I love you."
"That's no bullshit."
"If I found out you were screwing around on me, could I off you?" He inclined his head. "I believe I've already been informed you'd be doing the rhumba - after appropriate lessons - on my cold, dead body."
"Yeah. Yeah." It cheered her up. "Just not sure pink Jolene has the stones for that."
"Jimmy Jay was in violation of the ... which commandment is it that deals with adultery?"
"How the hell would I know, especially since I wouldn't wait for you to face your eternal punishment, should you be in said violation, before I rhumba'd my ass off."
"Such is true love."
"Bet your excellent ass. I got the vibe he might've been screwing around, but maybe I'm just a cynical so-and-so."
Pleased with her, Roarke tapped a finger over the dent in her chin. "You are, but you're my cynical so-and-so. — J.D. Robb

If I were to share Jaques' existence I would find it hard to hold my own against him, for already I found his nihilism contagious. — Simone De Beauvoir

The first blind man had begun by declaring that his wife would not be subjected to the shame of giving her body to strangers in exchange for whatever, she had no desire to do so nor would he permit it, for dignity has no price, that when someone starts making small concessions, in the end live loses all meaning. The doctor then asked him what meaning he saw in the situation in which all of them there found themselves, starving, covered in filth up to their ears, ridden with lice, eaten by bedbugs, bitten by fleas, I, too, would prefer my wife not to go, but what I want serves no purpose, ... I know that my manly pride, this thing we call male pride, if after so many humiliations, we still preserve something worthy of that name, I know that it will suffer, it already is, I cannot avoid it, but it is probably the only solution, if we want to live. — Jose Saramago

It is the voice of everyday people, rather than of a self-conscious 'artist', that we hear in Caedmon's Hymn, and in such texts as Deor's Lament (also known simply as Deor) or The Seafarer. These reflect ordinary human experience and are told in the first person. They make the reader or hearer relate directly with the narratorial 'I', and frequently contain intertextual references to religious texts. Although they express a faith in God, only Caedmon's Hymn is an overtly religious piece. Already we can notice one or two conventions creeping in; ways of writing which will be found again and again in later works. One of these is the use of the first-person speaker who narrates his experience, inviting the reader or listener to identify with him and sympathise with his feelings. — Ronald Carter

I came to Paul at quite an early age, having already studied Plato and Aristotle; and I found Paul easily their intellectual equal, though he was handling these amazing questions about God, Jesus, Israel, faith and so on. He continues to be an amazingly stimulating thinker, especially when we try to understand the flow of thought in letter after letter rather than just combing him for a few verses on 'our favourite topics', which, sadly, some Christian teachers do just as some journalists and broadcasters do! — N. T. Wright

He found himself one night in a bar standing beside a gorgeous woman. "Would you be willing to sleep with me for $1 million?" he asked her. She looked him over. There wasn't much to see - but still, $1 million! She agreed to go back to his room. "All right then, " he said. "Would you be willing to sleep with me for $100?" "A hundred dollars!" she shot back. "What do you think I am, a prostitute?" "We've already established that. Now we're just negotiating the price. — Steven D. Levitt

Returning to her position beneath the skylight, she yanked her arm down. The end of a length of rope tumbled into the room. "Oh, Mr. Addison. I never give something for nothing."
He found that he wasn't quite ready for her to leave. "Perhaps we could negotiate."
She released the rope, approaching him with a walk that looked half Catwoman and all sexy. "I already suggested that, and you turned me down. But be careful. Somebody wants you dead. And you have no idea how close somebody like me can get, without you ever knowing," she
murmured, lifting her face to his.
Jesus. She practically gave off sparks. He could feel the hairs on his arms lifting. "I would know," he returned in the same low tone, taking a slow step closer, daring her to make the next move. If she did, he was going to touch her. He wanted to touch her, badly. The heat coming off her body was almost palpable. — Suzanne Enoch

I chanced a shy look at Sam, and found he was already staring at me. When our eyes met, we both blushed but didn't look away. His curiosity, his energy, his wonder for the world had reawakened the part of me I was so sure I'd lost.
"What now?" he asked.
I smiled. "Next stop the pyramids?"
He grinned, and impulsively I lifted my chin and kissed him. For a moment, the warmth of that kiss drove away the pain and the horrors of the last few days. I leaned into him as much as my bandages allowed, until at last I pulled my lips away and rested my forehead against his.
"The pyramids, the North Pole, the moon," Sam replied, his voice a bit hoarse. "Next stop anywhere, as long as you're there. — Jessica Khoury

Cam's proposing to Avery!"
"He's done lost his damn mind."
"What!" holding on to my crutches, I smacked him on the chest. "He hasn't lost his mind. He's found it."
Jase laughed. "I'm kidding. And I already knew."
"What?" I shrieked and slapped his chest again. "What do you mean you already knew?"
"Ouch." He rubbed the spot. "Does it disturb you that I'm kind of getting turned on right now?"
I shook my head. "Seriously?"
"Maybe?" he murmured, dipping his head and causing the ends sticking out from under the skullcap to sway. "I'm pretty erect right now to be honest."
"Oh my God ... — J. Lynn

I'm seven hundred years old, Alexander. I know when something isn't going to work. You won't even admit I exist to your parents."
Alec stared at him. "I thought you were three hundred! You're seven huundred years old?"
"Well," Magnus amended, "eight hundred. But I dont look it. Anyway, you're missing the point. The point is-"
But Alec never found out what the point was because at that moment a dozen more Iblis demons flooded into the square. He felt his jaw drop. "Damn it."
Magnus followed his gaze. the demons were already fanning out into a half circle around them, their yellow eyes glowing. "Way to change the subject, Lightwood. — Cassandra Clare

I don't know about some of these other people, particularly the ministers who served my uncle."
"Can't you get rid of them?"
Kaddar shook his head. "The country's already in turmoil. I need to keep a few of the same faces around, at least until I get their measure."
"It doesn't sound like much fun. I wish you luck with it."
"I'll need luck," Kaddar took her hand. "Daine, I found my uncle's papers. He was going to have me arrested and charged with conspiring against him - which means he planned to have me killed. I owe you my life. I know this will sound trite, but I mean it: whatever you want that I can give, even to half of my kingdom, all you need do is ask."
Daine gave him a skeptical look. "Your ministers wouldn't like the half-kingdom part."
He grinned. "Actually, they want to arrest you for crimes against the state. — Tamora Pierce

"He's already been found, like I said," Jeb answers, his attention on the hand pressed at my neck. He narrows his eyes, and with a subtle flick of his fingers, Morpheus's shadow rises from the floor and wrestles Morpheus away from me.
Growling, Morpheus shoves the dark silhouette aside, then glares at Jeb. "Amateur. Cheap parlor tricks."
Jeb gives him a vicious grin. "A pupil is only as good as his tutor." — A.G. Howard