I Can't Move On From Him Quotes & Sayings

As photographers, we must learn to relax our beliefs. Move on objects with your eye straight on, to the left, around on the right. Watch them grow large as they approach, group and regroup as you shift your position. Relationships gradually emerge and sometimes assert themselves with finality. And that's your picture. — Aaron Siskind

My one challenge with the support group that I'd become involved with on campus is that the people seem to spend as much time talking about their ill-begotten pasts as their promising futures. It's as if people are drawn to looking back. They can't move on until it all makes sense. Humbly submitted: It never does. — Carol Plum-Ucci

The M-1 is the best tank in the world, if you can get it to the war in time, if you have a Saddam Hussein who'll give you seven months to move your forces in. — Ralph Peters

Why are you still standing here?"
His uncle leaned back, peering out into the hallway. "I need you to come to town with me," he muttered.
"You're not on my schedule."
His uncle scowled. "I'm not what now?"
"I wrote out a schedule. You're not on it."
"Uh-huh. Can you fit me on the schedule?"
Bo grabbed the notepad off his night table and looked it over. "Well, let's see, maybe I could move-"
Grigori snatched the pad from him and tore it up, throwing the tiny pieces at Bo's head.
Bo stared at him. You don't think I made a copy? — Shelly Laurenston

One of the men gave Butch a bunch of volts with a stun gun. The Rangeman didn't move fast enough, and Butch grabbed the gun and threw it across the room.
"Hunh," Rangeman guy said.
"Yeah," I said. "Been there, done that."
"Are you sure he's human?"
"Maybe you could hook a chain to the FlexiCuffs on his ankles and drag him behind your car," I said.
"We tried that once, and Ranger didn't like it," the guy said. "You do something twice that Ranger doesn't like, and you're out of a job and damaged. — Janet Evanovich

Actually, I think you have to know that whatever advice you give, they may not take it. The priority should be on keeping the friendship rather than giving the best advice. Your best advice is usually, 'Walk away from him! Tell him you never want to see him again!' But if you are dealing with someone still in love, nothing you say can change their feelings. All you can do is be there for them and pick them up every time they get hurt. Until, that is, they are ready to move on for themselves. — Taylor Swift

Get out of your own way ... stop the paralysis by analysis ... decide what you want, create a simple plan, and get moving! — Steve Maraboli

Okay, my man, in a minute you are gonna hear a bunch of shit that's gonna knock your socks off. So, two seconds to prepare, Ivey is my best friend, outside you my only real one, as you know. What you don't know, she is not my lover. She's my friend. And I'm gay. You tell anyone, I'll shoot you and you know I'm not fucking with you about that. Deal with it. We gotta move on, like, now. — Kristen Ashley

Life is tough, then you die. The sooner you accept that and move on with your life, the better off you'll be. — Michael Murphy

It was always part of the plan to move into acting. — Aaliyah

We have to let go of fears of things we can't do anything about and move forward with clarity, focus on positives. — Jay Woodman

Oh dear, all those words again," thought Milo as he climbed into the wagon with Tock and the cabinet members. "How are you going to make it move? It doesn't have a
" "Be very quiet," advised the duke, "for it goes without saying. — Norton Juster

Also, unless you critique moralism, many irreligious people won't know the difference between moralism and what you're offering. The way to get antinomians to move away from lawlessness is to distinguish the gospel from legalism. Why? Because modern and post-modern people have been rejecting Christianity for years thinking that it was indistinguishable from moralism. Non-Christians will always automatically hear gospel presentations as appeals to become moral and religious, unless in your preaching you use the good news of grace to deconstruct legalism. Only if you show them there's a difference - that what they really rejected wasn't real Christianity at all - will they even begin to consider Christianity.2 — Tullian Tchividjian

Coyotes move within a landscape of attentiveness. I have seen their eyes in the creosote bushes and among mesquite trees. They have watched me. And all the times that I saw no eyes, that I kept walking and never knew, there were still coyotes. When I have seen them trot away, when I have stepped from the floorboard of my truck, leaned on the door, and watched them as they watched me over their shoulders, I have been aware for that moment of how much more there is. Of how I have only seen only an instant of a broad and rich life. — Craig Childs

I won't marry you."
"Of course you will," he said. "Why wouldn't you? You followed me around like a puppy dog all those years ago, which was pure misery, because I wanted nothing more than to toss you down in the straw and despoil you, and you were too damned young. Back then I had scruples. Fortunantly, nowadays I have none."
"Then why do you want to marry me?" She said, shoving her hair away from her face.
"I have no idea." He said idly. "I expect I love you. Nothing else could account for such bizarre behavior on my part. I expect the captain of the packet ship can perform a ceremony. Are you ready?"
She didn't move. She couldn't marry him, and she needed shoes, and she wasn't sure which was the most important to argue about. — Anne Stuart

I thought it might be a good move to get into a beauty contest so I tried for Miss Pennsylvania and won. I think that helped me get noticed, at least by the people of Pennsylvania. — Sharon Stone

At a certain point, you have to convince the actors that you've done the right thing. The way I work, if I can't convince them, I've got to move on. I can't coerce them or browbeat them. — Harold Ramis

And then he did rise from his wheelchair. But there was something odd about the way he did it. His blanket fell away from his legs, but the legs didn't move. His waist kept getting longer, rising above his belt. At first, I thought he was wearing very long, white velvet underwear, but as he kept rising out of the chair, taller than any man, I realized that the velvet underwear wasn't underwear; it was the front of an animal, muscle and sinew under coarse white fur. And the wheelchair wasn't a chair. It was some kind of container, an enormous box on wheels, and it must've been magic, because there's no way it could've held all of him. A leg came out, long and knobby-kneed, with a huge polished hoof. Then another front leg, then hindquarters, and then the box was empty, nothing but a metal shell with a couple of fake human legs attached. — Rick Riordan

That was the sound of a sneer."

"Was it?" Amused, aroused, he distracted her with a nibble on her bottom lip. "I can never tell the difference. And what sound is this?"

"What sound?"

He drove himself into her, one powerful and deep thrust that ripped a shocked cry from her throat.

"That one." He lowered his head, tasting the heat that rose to her flesh even as her hips arched to meet him. "And that one."

She struggled to get her breath back. "Tolerance," she managed.

"Oh, well, if that's the best we can do." He started to move back. She reared up, wrapped around him.

"I need to practice my tolerance." She skimmed the hair away from his face with her fingers, then fisted her hands. Her lips curved, met his. — J.D. Robb

Sometimes you have to move on without certain people. If they're meant to be in your life, they'll catch up. — Mandy Hale

Let your body move. It will give voice to a language that can heal. — Gina Greenlee

I let my hands brush over his chest and paid close attention to his nipples before spying the pool of semen on his belly. A need I couldn't explain went through me and I found myself pulling my aching dick from the depths of his body. I felt Dante's eyes on me as I shifted over him. I maneuvered my cock so I could rub it in his cum, drenching the crown in the cooling, sticky fluid. I gathered the rest of it as best I could with my shaft and then levered back on my heels. Dante's pretty hole was open and waiting and I didn't even think twice before pushing back inside of him. He gasped and I looked up to see him watching me with a mix of shock and wonder. He clearly hadn't been expecting the move. I thrust into him hard and then dropped my body down on his. "What you do to me," I murmured. "I can't fucking get enough of you." Dante's — Sloane Kennedy

I've always been interested in setting my stories against a big event, the importance of which my younger readers are slowly becoming aware of as they move into their teens. — Morris Gleitzman

For you to have real love, you need to be able to move past your self. — John De Ruiter

Maybe the human species has evolved too far, maybe we all move around too much, too pointlessly, and consciousness will implode upon itself. — Margaret Drabble

In this country, where workmen move about frequently and with facility, the unions suffer in their harmony and stability. It — William Graham Sumner

I have tried to write Paradise
Do not move
Let the wind speak
that is paradise.
Let the Gods forgive what I
have made
Let those I love try to forgive
what I have made. — Ezra Pound

Where will you and Corr be?" I ask. Sean presses two fingers along the edge of the counter sweeping crumbs into a pile. I notice that his fingers are permanently dirt-stained like mine. He says," Right next to you and Dove." I stare at him. "You can't risk not winning. Not because of me." Sean doesn't lift his eye from the counter. "We make our move when you make yours. You on the inside, me on the outside. Corr can come from the middle of the pack; he's done it before. It's one side you don't have to worry about. — Maggie Stiefvater

I always think of each night as a song. Or each moment as a song. But now I'm seeing we don't live in a single song. We move from song to song, from lyric to lyric, from chord to chord. There is no ending here. It's an infinite playlist. — David Levithan

Reaching out, I grab his hand and intertwine my fingers with his. And I move into his space until we're not even an inch from each other. Laying my forehead on his chest, I take a deep breath and feel his whole body relax, as if tension is rolling off his body in waves.
I was always the kid who loved the smell of gasoline.
His free hand comes up, and his fingers slip through my hair before his hand settles between my shoulder blades.
"Ben," I say into his shirt.
"Janelle," he whispers back, and I can feel his mouth against my hair. I can feel him smile. — Elizabeth Norris

She watched his throat move, and then, he reached out and touched her face. "You sure are pretty," he said. "It's the stone," she replied immediately. Her skin felt warm; his fingertip touched just the very edge of her mouth. "It's flattering." Adam gently pulled the stone out of her hand and a set it on the floorboards between them. Through his ingers he threaded one of the flyaway hairs by her cheek. "My mother used to say, 'Don't throw compliments away, so long as they're free." HIs face was very earnest. "That one wasn't mean tho cost you anything, Blue." Blue plucked at the hem on her dress, but she didn't look away from him. "I don't know what to say when you say things like that." "You can tell me if you want me to keep saying them." She was torn by the desire to encourage him and the fear of where it would lead. "I like when you say things like that." Adam asked, "But what?" "I didn't say but." "You meant to. I heard it. — Maggie Stiefvater

Stu stops munching, looks up at me from under his shaggy hair.
"So, can you read?" He slides a section toward me.
I cock my head toward the paper. The letters are small, blurry drawings. The alphabet might as well be Chinese or Arabic. Strange that I can't read or speak, though I still have language inside my head. Words are a consolation, but not a tool.
"Guess not. You want me to read stuff out loud to you?"
I would, but not right now. If I wanted to show interest in the newspaper I could cross the table and rub against his shoulder. Instead I gaze at him over the bowl of milk.
"It's so weird," he says in a hesitant voice. "You don't look like a cat. When you stare at me, you look like Eliza."
That's the nicest thing he could have said. With a happy lightness to my step I move between the bowls, over his napkin ring and spoon, until I stand on the edge of the table and nip at his prickly chin. This is my way of saying: Hi, there. I like you. — Simone Martel

It was dusk when I drove back into downtown Detroit. I was annoyed by how much traffic there was at that hour of the day. Being a guy with two good legs who doesn't mind ankling, I hadn't realized the car situation had gotten so bad in the city. I almost had two smack-ups with people who refused to yield to me. Then I bumped someone from behind, intentionally, at the new flashing traffic light on Jefferson. The guy in the car had refused to move - he just sat there waiting because the light was red. After I bumped him (not that hard), the squirt hopped out of his car red in the face, and I must admit the sight of him gave me my first laugh in two days. He said, "Can't you see it's a red light?" I told him a red light is just a suggestion. Then I pressed the gas lightly and started pushing his car further out into the intersection whilst he stood there in disbelief. "Better get back in, your car is leaving without you," I said. — W.K. Berger

Can you make it past me, thief-catcher?" Mat called, careful not to take his eyes off the man waiting for him with blade poised to strike. Sandar had insisted irritably on "thief-catcher," not "thief-taker," though Mat could not see any difference.
"I cannot," Sandar called from behind him. "If you move to let me by, you will lose room to swing that oar you call a staff, and he will spit you like a grunt."
Like a what? "Well, think of something, Tairen. This ragamuffin is grating my nerves."
The man in the gold-striped coat sneered. "You will be honored to die on the blade of the High Lord Darlin, peasant, if I allow it so." It was the first time he had deigned to speak. "Instead, I think I will have the pair of you hung by the heels, and watch while the skin is stripped from your bodies - "
"I do not think I'd like that," Mat said. — Robert Jordan

What the hell is going on?" I demand, craning my neck to look at Jeanine. "We agreed-cooperation in exchange for results! We agreed--"
"This is entirely separate from our agreement," says Jeanine, glancing at her watch. "This is not about you, Beatrice."
The door opens again.
Tobias walks in--limps in--flanked by Dauntless traitors. His face is bruised and there's a cut above his eyebrow. He does not move with his usual care; he's holding himself perfectly straight. He must be injured. I try not to think about how he got that way.
"What is this?" he says, his voice rough and creaky.
From screaming, probably.
My throat feels swollen.
"Tris," he says, and he lurches toward me, but the Dauntless traitors are too quick. They grab him before he can move more than a few steps. "Tris, are you okay?"
"Yeah," I say. "Are you?"
He nods. I don't believe him. — Veronica Roth

Mel? Mel, I love you. Mel, come back . Mel, Mel, Mel."
It's Jared's voice, trying to call me back the way Wanda called back the Healer's host, the way she taught Kyle to call to Jodi.
I can answer him. I can speak now. I can feel my tongue in my mouth, ready to move into whatever shape I ask it to. I can feel the air in my lungs, ready to push out the words. If I want this.
"Mel, I love you, I love you."
This is Wanda's gift to me, paid for with her silver blood. Jared and I, put back together again as if she'd never lived. As if she hadn't saved us both.
If I accept this gift, I profit from her death. I kill her again. I take her sacrifice and make it murder.
"Mel, please? Open your eyes."
I feel his hand on my face, cradling my cheek. I feel his lips burn against my forehead, but I don't want them, not at this price.
Or do I? — Stephenie Meyer

I love you." My admission took me by surprise. I didn't see him move. He embraced me again, crushing me in a spinning hug. The room twirled around us at a dizzying speed, and I didn't attempt to focus on it. Instead, I looked down at Clay's face. He wore a huge smile. I grinned back and noted his canines were normal for the first time ever. "Oh!" I squirmed to get down, excited at the size of his teeth. He grudgingly released me. "Please can we get rid of the beard?" Yes, I hopped from foot to foot like a kid begging for cotton candy. I wanted to see him just once without facial hair. If he wanted to grow it back, I wouldn't mind. I'd fallen in love with him as he was, after all. He nodded, laughing at me. "And — Melissa Haag

I think we need to find a way to provide people with a reason that the average man on the street can grasp and embrace, that would cause him to move away from the centuries-old idea of the individual and individualism, and move toward a different concept of what it means to be human in a collective society. Unless he has that reason, unless he has a fundamental reason to do that, it's going to be very difficult to cause him to make that shift, in my view. — Neale Donald Walsch

I know you are new at this dating thing, but people don't usually insult their girlfriend and ask them to move in with them in the same sentence," I inform him, chewing my bottom lip to suppress my smile.

"Well, sometimes the said girlfriend needs to lighten up." He grins. Even drunk, he's charming as hell.

"Well, then said boyfriend needs to stop being a jerk," I say to retaliate.

He laughs and moves from the chair over to my bed. "I am trying not to be a jerk, I really am. Sometimes I can't help it." He sits on the edge of the bed. "I'm really, really good at it! — Anna Todd

She jumped. "You walk like a cat!"
"I am a cat, sweetheart." He wanted to tease her again, so he let a low growl rumble up from his chest. "See?"
Streaks of vibrant color stained her cheeks once more. But she didn't back down. "Are you planning to move?"
"No." He drew in a deep breath, fighting the urge to nuzzle at her throat. "You smell good. Can I taste you?" It was a half-serious question. "Just a little?"
"Mr. Quinn!" She took a step around him and headed off.
But he'd already caught the tart bite of arousal in her scent. Satisfied, he followed, on his best behavior now. It wouldn't do to scare Annie away. Not when he planned to keep her. — Nalini Singh

He was really, Lily Briscoe thought, in spite of his eyes, but then look at his nose, look at his hands, the most uncharming human being she had ever met. Then why did she mind what he said? Women can't write, women can't paint - what did that matter coming from him, since clearly it was not true to him but for some reason helpful to him, and that was why he said it? Why did her whole being bow, like corn under a wind, and erect itself again from this abasement only with a great and rather painful effort? She must make it once more. There's the sprig on the table-cloth; there's my painting; I must move the tree to the middle; that matters - nothing else. Could she not hold fast to that, she asked herself, and not lose her temper, and not argue; and if she wanted revenge take it by laughing at him? — Virginia Woolf

What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" Day snapped each word this time.

"You're not the only one that can track your lover," God said smugly while holding up his phone with the application still open.

Day's mouth fell open and the shade of red he turned was priceless. He decided to get rid of their excess company and take Day back with him. God looked at Day's date and put on his best run-for-your-life face and spat menacingly. "Leave. Now."

"No," Day spoke before his date could move. "You don't have to go anywhere, Mick."

God looked back to Day and spoke in a harsh growl without moving his eyes from his partner's. "Mick, I say leave now. He says to stay. Whatever will you do?"

Mick turned and ran so fast his image turned into a blur.
"That takes care of that," God said.

Day pushed God out of his space and turned to walk away without another word. — A.E. Via

The words "I should have done this back then" are a curse. Whenever they come up, they tangle around your heart and keep you from moving. They bring up all the baggage you carry and dull your emotions. From this point on is a domain where your emotions can't be dull... "I want to get faster", "I want to beat him", "This is fun"... "I want to move forward". You need to have only pure feelings like that, if you want to reach that domain! — Wataru Watanabe

I had Sophie in my arms when Eric came in. He went straight to Delia and kissed her on the mouth, then bent his forehead against hers for a moment, as if whatever he was thinking may be transferred by osmosis. Then Eric turned, his eyes locking on his daughter. "You can hold her," Delia prompted.
But Eric didn't make any move to take Sophie from me. I took a step toward him, and saw what Delia must have overlooked
Eric's hands were shaking so hard that he had buried him in his coat pockets.
I pushed the baby against his chest, so that he'd have no choice but to grab hold. "It's okay," I said under my breath-To Eric? To Sophie? To myself?-and as I transferred this tiny prize to Eric's arms, I held long longer than I had to. I made damn sure he was steady, before I let go. — Jodi Picoult

What else? I also believe that if someone comes up behind you on the freeway and flashes their lights to get you to move into the slow lane, they deserve whatever punishment you dole out to them. I promptly slow down and drive at the same speed as the car beside me so that I can punish Speed Racer for his impertinence.
Actually, it's not the impertinence I'm punishing him for, it's that he let other people know what he wanted.
Speed Racer, my friend, never ever let people know what you want. Because if you do, you might as well send them engraved invitations saying, Hi, this is what I want you to prevent me from ever having. — Douglas Coupland

I've been keeping an eye on Henry throughout the fight. I glanced at him just as he stepped onto the mat.
"Alpha," he called. "I chal - "
He never got the whole word out - because I drew my foster father's SIG and shot him in the throat before he could.
For a split second everyone stared at him, as if they couldn't figure out where all that blood had come from.
"Stop the bleeding." I said. Though I made no move to do it myself. The rat could die for all I cared. "That was a lead bullet. He'll be fine." But he wouldn't be talking - or challenging Adam - for a while. "When he's stable put him in the holding cell where he can't do any more harm."
Adam looked at me. "Trust you to bring a gun into a fist fight." He said with every evidence of admiration. Then he looked at his pack. Our pack. "What she said." He told them. — Patricia Briggs

Books were heavy shit. Next time he offered to move someone, he'd make sure the person was less of an intellectual. — Cat Johnson

Begin to read a book that will help you move toward your dream. — Les Brown

Moved on ... " he said. "Rusted nuts! You can do that?"
"Certainly."
"Huh. You think ... I should ... you know ... Ranette ... "
"Wayne, if ever someone should have taken a hint, it was you. Yes. Move on. Really."
"Oh, I took the hint," he said, taking a swig of sherry. "Just can't remember which jacket I left it in." He looked down at the jug. "You sure?"
"She has a girlfriend, Wayne."
"'S only a phase," he mumbled. "One what lasted fifteen years. ... — Brandon Sanderson

Wasn't it evil to wish without moving- or to move without aim? — Ayn Rand

hear you're going to be on crutches for quite a while." "Yes, well - " "Abigail has already said she's moving back home to help you." "Oh," said Madeline. "Oh." She fingered the pink petals of the flowers. "Well, I'll talk to her about it. I'll be perfectly fine. She doesn't need to look after me." "No, but I think she wants to move back home," said Nathan. "She's looking for an excuse." Madeline and Ed looked at each other. Ed shrugged. "I always thought the novelty would wear off," said Nathan. "She missed her mum. We're not her real life." "Right." "So. I should get going," said Ed. "Could you stay for a moment, mate? — Liane Moriarty

Little by little, wean yourself. This is the gist of what I have to say. From an embryo whose nourishment comes in the blood, move to an infant drinking milk, to a child on solid food, to a searcher after wisdom, to a hunter of invisible game. — Rumi

I just wanted to move out of Portland to do something. — Elliott Smith

That's the bittersweet joy of ministry. We see people healed, and then we watch them move on in victory. Sometimes, it means saying goodbye. We must learn to celebrate as our fledgling birds spread their wings and fly into freedom, even if that flight pattern takes them far away from us. — Katherine J. Walden

The water in music the oar forsakes. The air in music the wing forsakes. All things in move in music and write it. The mouse, lizard, and grasshopper sing together on the Turlock sands, sing with the morning stars. — John Muir

Now Kino lay in the cave entrance, his chin braced on his crossed arms, and he watched the blue shadow of the mountain move out across the brushy desert below until it reached the Gulf, and the long twilight of the shadow was over the land. — John Steinbeck

One man interacting creatively with others can move the world. — John W. Gardner

If you live cautiously, your friends will call you wise. You just won't move many mountains — Bill Johnson

We can make these changes if we are willing to unite and stand together. The road to a sustainable future is clear, and the technologies are ready and cost-efficient. The only thing holding us back is the lack of political will. And with the crisis at hand, this is no excuse for failing to fight for the future we want for generations to come. We must move forward fearlessly to build a mass movement with the political power necessary to create a truly sustainable energy future. We must do this - it's a matter of life and death. — Wenonah Hauter

Some people, he says, they hide themselves away from the eyes of the world. They hunker down and shiver. They find four walls high enough to put between them and everything else. Those people, to them the world is a frightful place. See, you and me, we're different. When we are called on to move, we move. It don't matter the cause or the distance. Revenge or ministration, reason or folly - it's all the same to us. — Alden Bell

The object of my relationship with Vietnam has been to heal the wounds that exist, particularly among our veterans, and to move forward with a positive relationship, ... Apparently some in the Vietnamese government don't want to do that and that's their decision. — Ho Chi Minh

One of the first exercises we did in acting class my freshman year was to stand in two rows, two lines facing each other as a class, and just make sounds and move in some completely nonsensical way out into the center of the room. Sort of make an idiot out of yourself, essentially, but to be okay with that. — Chris Parnell

And the very fact of how you speak somehow influences who you are. The way you move, the way you think, it seeps into your being, and it's quite hard to really break that down entirely. — David Tennant

A typical weeknight when he was home like this:
1. Sit down and try to do homework.
2. Get interrupted by Jeffrey: "Please play with me!"
3. Ignore brother, try to do homework.
4. Get interrupted by Jeffrey: "Come ON, Steven! I'm BORED!"
5. Beg Jeffrey for five minutes of peace.
6. Get begged for five minutes of play: "Steven, you never, ever play with me - ever!"
7. Move entire homework operations center to different room.
8. Repeat steps #1-7 as directed by small drugged maniac. — Jordan Sonnenblick

When Mama starts to move across a room, people pay attention. You can never be sure she's not going to grab you by the top of the head to steady herself. And she's pretty free with that walking stick, too. — Bailey White

I believe that if you can discover something of the truth of a person, then you will start to understand, and to understand is to move towards, if not like, then at least an empathy of some kind. — Rupert Friend

What then is the difference between film and theatre? Or should one not rather ask: what are the differences? Let us be content wi th the reply that the screen has two dimensions and the stage three, that the screen presents photographs and the stage living actors. All the subtler differences stem from these. The camera can show us all sorts of things
from close-ups of insects to panoramas of prairies
which the stage cannot even suggest, and it can move from one to another with much more dexterity than any conceivable stage. The stage, on the other hand, can be revealed in the unsurpassable beauty of three-dimensional shapes, and the stage actor establishes between himself and his audience a contact real as electricity. — Eric Bentley

No one's fated or doomed to love anyone.
The accidents happen, we're not heroines,
they happen in our lives like car crashes,
books that change us, neighborhoods
we move into and come to love.
Tristan and Isolde is scarcely the story,
women at least should know the difference
between love and death. No poison cup,
no penance. Merely a notion that the tape-recorder
should have caught some ghost of us: that tape-recorder
not merely played but should have listened to us,
and could instruct those after us:
this we were, this is how we tried to love,
and these are the forces they had ranged against us,
and these are the forces we had ranged within us,
within us and against us, against us and within us. — Adrienne Rich

When Shakespeare was writing, he wasn't writing for stuff to lie on the page; it was supposed to get up and move around. — Ken Kesey

He won't say no, but who cares if he does? Do it. Hell, guys go through this every time they make a move on a woman, and none of them has died yet. In many cases, that is, of course, unfortunate, but rejection is definitely not lethal. Go get him. — Jennifer Crusie

When you want to move somebody, you have to say to yourself: 'I'm in the emotional transportation business. I gotta move them, emotionally.' — Peter Guber

Now, being in Africa, I was hungry for more of it, the changes of the seasons, the rains with no need to travel, the discomforts that you paid to make it real, the names of the trees, of the small animals, and all the birds, to know the language and have time to be in it and to move slowly. — Ernest Hemingway,

Jesus Christ!" A man could only take so much. She yelped as he snatched her up around the waist and sat her on the counter. "Sit there and don't move. Don't bat your eyes. Don't lick your lips. Don't get on your knees. And for God's sake, don't bend over." He snatched the mixer off the floor. "Where the hell do you want it? — Alannah Lynne

It was a silver watch with a matching chain and fob, and on the back was an engraving of Samaranth.
'Is it a time machine?' Jack asked. 'Will it let us travel through time?'
'I believe it will,' Ordo Maas replied. 'I've found that for every minute I watch it, I move a full minute farther into the future. — James A. Owen

Plenty of people are taught that the magic bullet of weight loss is to simply "eat less and move more." Worse, many people believe that exercise, an incredibly enjoyable and healthful behavior, must be taken to unenjoyable extremes if weight is a concern. — Yoni Freedhoff

The destiny of man is not measured by material computations. When great forces are on the move in the world, we learn we're spirits - not animals ... . There's something going on in time and space, and beyond time and space, which, whether we like it or not, spells duty. — Ronald Reagan