I Miss Back Then Quotes & Sayings

I felt so insufferably alone. I remembered Miss Myra Turnbull telling us once that this desperate need we have to belong to someone goes back to our earliest forebears, the lowest form of animal life, the amoeba, each individual particle of which has to be joined to other particles to make a whole. Then — Madeleine L'Engle

You gotta find a life outside this office," he threw out a hand then pinned his eyes on me. "You gotta find a man."
My back snapped straight. "Tack, really - "
He didn't miss my response. He just misinterpreted it.
"Don't go woman on me and tell me you don't need a man to complete you. It's bullshit. Woman looks like you, goddamn waste. But a woman who has the love you got to give, that's not a waste. That's a crying shame."
I closed my mouth because that was sweet.
Then I opened it to remind him, "Uh, FYI, I can't go woman on you since I am a woman, so going woman is redundant. — Kristen Ashley

I miss that time. The cities back then, just after the forests died, were full of wonders, and you'd stumble on them
these princes of the air on common rooftops
the rivers that burst through the city streets so they ran like canals
the rabbits in parking garages
the deer foaling, nestled in Dumpsters like a Nativity. — M T Anderson

I'm Free "

Don't grieve for me, for now I'm free.
I'm following the path God laid for me.
I took God's hand when I heard the call;

I turned my back and left it all.
I could not stay another day

To laugh, to love, to work or play.

Tasks left undone must stay that way,
I found that place at the close of day.
If my parting has left a void,

Then fill it with remembered joy.

A friendship shared, a laugh, a kiss.
Ah, yes, these things, I too, will miss.
Be not burdened with times of sorrow,

I wish you the sunshine of tomorrow.
My life's been full, I savored much,

Good friends, good times, a loved one's touch.
Perhaps my time seemed all too brief;

don't lengthen it now with undue grief.
Lift up your heart and share with me,
God wanted me now, God set me free. — Harold S. Kushner

Someone asked me the other day if I missed my ex?
I didn't understand the question, because what's there to miss.. He lost someone who could have loved him forever, but I lost someone who never did ... So the only thing I miss, was the part of me I changed ; in order, for him to love more. How was I so blinded back then ... I don't miss him, I missed me. — Nikki Rowe

His eyes were above hers, and she saw that the golden-hazel irises were rimmed with black. "Miss Hathaway ... you're quite certain fate had no hand in our meeting tonight?"
She couldn't seem to breathe properly. "Qu-quite certain."
His head bent low. "And in all likelihood we'll never meet again?"
"Never." He was too large, too close. Nervously Amelia tried to marshal her thoughts, but they scattered like spilled matchsticks ... and then he set fire to them as his breath touched her cheek.
"I hope you're right. God help me if I should ever have to face the consequences."
"Of what?" Her voice was faint.
"This." His hand slid to the back of her neck and his mouth covered hers. — Lisa Kleypas

I'll miss you as well." He glanced at her breasts. "So much."
She laughed. "Hurry back to me then. — Laurann Dohner

Clearing his throat, he rumbled, "Miss Darling, a word if you please."
"Sesquipedalian," she said, keeping her back towards him.
The strange response momentarily stunned him. "Pardon?"
Turning around, she leaned against the counter and grinned at him, "You asked for a word and I gave you one. It means 'many syllabled' and while it's exceedingly pretentious it is a lot of fun to say. Sesquipedalian; it tangles up the tongue and then just falls right off.
"Or perhaps you would prefer a different word?" she continued guilelessly and he was completely charmed by her. "Tittle, which is the little dot over i's and j's; or Ornithopter, an aircraft that flies by flapping its wings; Tuatha De Danan Lora or Expector Patronum?"
"Now you're just making words up," he grinned, and realized he had missed talking to her. — A.C. Warneke

As the final bars of the dance were played, we bowed to the couples across from us and at our corners and then Mr. De Vries deposited me back at Aunt's side. Bowed. "Thank you ever so much, Miss Carter." "Thank you, Mr. De Vries." He stepped a bit closer. "Don't you think, since we spoke of . . . feathers and hatpins . . . that you could call me Harry?" I nodded. And as he left me at Aunt's side, I was smiling still. — Siri Mitchell

Buried him next to my cabin door, in that sunken, blissful spot where he had napped, always waiting for the next hunt: beneath the wild rose bushes. I buried him, as I had Ann, with bones and antlers and venison and dog food and a wreath of cedar and lupine. I buried him with shells, both 12- and 20-gauge, for whenever we went hunting again, and I put in extras because I knew I'd miss some shots. The bones and wings of his quarry. A whistle, a brass bell. Then the earth back in over him, and new grief in over old grief, like a mountain eroding to bury with its disintegrating sediments, disintegrating heart and body, something bright and valuable below. — Rick Bass

And two years ago this morning I woke wondering what delightful gift the new day would give me. These are the two years I thought would be filled with fun."
"Would you exchange them - now - for two years filled with fun "
"No " said Rilla slowly. "I wouldn't. It's strange - isn't it - They have been two terrible years - and yet I have a queer feeling of thankfulness for them - as if they had brought me something very precious in all their pain. I wouldn't want to go back and be the girl I was two years ago not even if I could. Not that I think I've made any wonderful progress - but I'm not quite the selfish frivolous little doll I was then. I suppose I had a soul then Miss Oliver - but I didn't know it. I know it now - and that is worth a great deal - worth all the suffering of the past few years. — L.M. Montgomery

It's always the same. When you come out of it and take a look around, the sight of wounds that you have left on the people who care for you makes you wince more than those you have inflicted on yourself. Though I am devoid of regret or remorse for almost anything I have done, if there is a corner for these feelings then it lies with that awareness. It should be enough to stop you from ever going back down there, but it seldom is. Anthony Loyd, My War Gone By, I Miss It So. — Ken Bruen

I look back on my life the way one watches a badly scripted action flick, sitting at the edge of the seat, bursting out, "No, no, don't open that door! The bad guy is in there and he'll grab you and put his hand over your mouth and tie you up and then you'll miss the train and everything will fall apart!" Except there is no bad guy in this tale. The person who jumped through the door and grabbed me and tied me up was, unfortunately, me. My double image, the evil skinny chick who hisses, Don't eat. I'm not going to let you eat. I'll let you go as soon as you're thin, I swear I will. Everything will be okay when you're thin. — Marya Hornbacher

Puck threw Ash a mocking smile. "You look like crap, Prince. Did you miss
me?"
Ash frowned, stabbing a faery that was clawing at his feet. "What are you
doing here, Goodfellow?" he asked coldly, which only caused Puck's grin to widen.
"Rescuing the princess from the Winter Court, of course." Puck looked down
as the wire-fey piled on the squealing boar, ripping and slicing. It exploded into a pile of leaves,
and they skittered back in confusion. "Though it appears I'm saving your sorry ass, as well."
"I could've handled it."
"Oh, I'm sure." Puck brandished a pair of curved daggers, the blades clear as
glass. His grin turned predatory. "Well, then, shall we get on with it? Try to keep up, Your
Highness."
"Just stay out of my way. — Julie Kagawa

Oh, I'm going to take them," said Miss Cornelia. "Of course, I was glad to, but Mary would have given me no peace till I asked them any way. The Ladies' Aid is going to clean the manse from top to bottom before the bride and groom come back, and Norman Douglas has arranged to fill the cellar with vegetables. Nobody ever saw or heard anything quite like Norman Douglas these days, believe ME. He's so tickled that he's going to marry Ellen West after wanting her all his life. If I was Ellen - but then, I'm not, and if she is satisfied I can very well be. I heard her say years ago when she was a schoolgirl that she didn't want a tame puppy for a husband. There's nothing tame about Norman, believe ME. — L.M. Montgomery

Going to miss this," he said as he kissed my cheeks, my jaw, my eyelids. "The way you taste." He set his lips to the hollow beneath my ear. "The way you smell." His hands slid up my back. "The way you feel." My breath hitched as his hips settled against mine.
Then he drew back, searching my eyes. "I wanted more for you," he said. "A white veil in your hair. Vows we could keep. — Leigh Bardugo

At least to look back over their own lives, as I have looked back over mine, for certain themes and patterns and signals that are so easy to miss when you're caught up in the process of living them. If God speaks to us at all other than through such official channels as the Bible and the church, then I think he speaks to us largely through what happens to us, so listen to what has happened to you-for the sound, above all else, of his voice. — Frederick Buechner

But you could miss me with all that, diss me then crawl back. I really wish yall would fall back, but gettin rich suppose to solve that. — Drake

Try not to let the excitement overwhelm you, but I have more good news.'
I groaned. I knew that tone of voice. 'Don't say it.'
'Vasily is back from Caryeva.'
'You could do the kind thing and drown me now.'
'And suffer alone? I think not.'
'Maybe for your birthday you can ask that he be fitted with a royal muzzle,' I suggested.
'But then we'd miss all his exciting stories about the summer auctions. You're fascinated by the breeding superiority of the Ravkan racehorse, right?'
I let out a whimper. — Leigh Bardugo

Fucking Hallmark never wrote anything for how I felt then. When Metallica and the rest of the metal community pitched in to pay for Acrassicauda, the Iraqi heavy metal band, to move to the US is the only thing that comes close. And maybe the late-breaking success of Anvil. I had a toasty heart, especially after I got called back to pick up first prize for Miss Frizz. Ah, never mind. You know what I'm saying. — Susan Juby

You've come all the way from London just for a joke, then?" I asked. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"No, no, my reason is of much greater importance. The entire city is in chaos. Buildings collapsing, streets flooding, the population plague-stricken, the Thames ablaze. But it was when an orphan boy I rescued from the rubble asked me, with his dying breath, 'Why did this all have to happen, sir? Why did Miss Wyndham leave?' that I solemnly promised to bring you back and restore peace. — Tarun Shanker

I always dreamed 'bout ridin' the big wheel," Mick added, looking down at his shoes with a plaintive expression. "But me mom needs all the money I c'n make." He glanced around at the others and then back at me. Those big brown eyes - with long black lashes that were going to make him a real heartbreaker in a few years - were all the more effective because they were still brimming with tears from the ear twist. "But it's okay, Miss Kate. I don' wanna make no trouble for you. — Rysa Walker

I miss you, mourn for you, and walk the streets alone- often at night, beside, I fall asleep in tears, for your dear face, yet not one word comes back to me. If it is finished, tell me, and I will raise the lid to my box of Phantoms, and lay one more love in; but if it lives and beats still, still lives and beats for me, then say so, and I will strike the strings to one more strain of happiness before I die. — Emily Dickinson

He arched a brow. "Miss Lahey, are you flirting with me?"
"Well, hot stuff, if you have to ask, I'm not doing it right."
His laughter rumbled low, slithering heat underneath my skin. I pulled him to me, backing him against the table, risking a literal firestorm as his lips laid upon mine with a burning promise of
"That's how babies are made!"
I reeled back and knocked over a chair. "Aunt M!"
"Sex kills!"
"M, seriously." Mom walked into the kitchen and rolled her eyes.
My aunt patted her belly. "It killed my waistline." Then she cackled.
Who was the banshee now?
"Ayden and Rory sitting in a tree," Selena sing-songed, "making b-a-b-b-y-n-g."
"Mom!"
"Selena," Mom admonished. "That's not the right spelling. — A&E Kirk

Suspicion prickled at Ravenna. "Who is to say you are not the murderer, and now that you know I have useful information you won't dispatch me too?"
"None but me."
She glanced into the darkness where the butler had disappeared, then back at the tall, dark man who had subdued her quite effectively in a stable the previous night. "This is the part where you pull out the bloodstained dagger, isn't it?"
"Why wouldn't I have done it earlier, before Monsieur Brazil knew of your involvement?"
"No doubt you only thought of it at this moment."
"It seems I am carelessly shortsighted."
"It does."
"Miss Caulfield?"
"You are not the murderer?"
"Go to bed."

-Ravenna & Vitor — Katharine Ashe

One thing I like about the 1950s is that kids were hip without any sense of irony about it. They were dressing in fifties cool-cat clothing with complete sincerity. Nobody wanted to be"retro"back then. With the Depression still fresh in everybody's mind, did anyone in the 1950s dress up as the Joad family from The Grapes of Wrath, and go to Dust Bowl-themed parties because they thought it was cool? Probably not. In the past, the past was something you wanted to forget about rather than romanticize. I really miss those days. — Frank Conniff

Don't you miss having a man? Don't you want to get married?"
He [Patrick Sonnier] is simple and direct. I'm simple and direct back.
I tell him that even as a young woman I didn't want to marry one man and have one family, I always wanted a wider arena for my love. But intimacy means a lot to me, I tell him. "I have close friends - men and women. I couldn't make it without intimacy."
"Yeah?" he says.
"Yeah," I say. "But there's a costly side to celibacy, too, a deep loneliness sometimes. There are moments, especially on Sunday afternoons, when I smell the smoke in the neighborhood from family barbecues, and feel like a fool not to have pursued a "normal" life. But, then, I've figured out that loneliness is part of everyone's life, part of being human - the private, solitary part of us that no one else can touch." (p. 127) — Helen Prejean

Miss Sedley was almost as flurried at the act of defiance as Miss Jemima had been; for, consider, it was but one minute that she had left school, and the impressions of six years are not got over in that space of time. Nay, with some persons those awes and terrors of youth last for ever and ever. I know, for instance, an old gentleman of sixty-eight, who said to me one morning at breakfast, with a very agitated countenance, 'I dreamed last night that I was flogged by Dr Raine.' Fancy had carried him back five-and-fifty years in the course of that evening. Dr Raine and his rod were just as awful to him in his heart then, at sixty-eight, as they had been at thirteen. If the Doctor, with a large birch, had appeared bodily to him, even at the age of threescore and eight, and had said in awful voice, 'Boy, take down your pants ... ' Well, well ... — William Makepeace Thackeray

I miss the outline of your body pressed to mine and the feel of your breath on my neck when you sleep. I miss the sound of your voice. I need you. I have to go soon, but I will be back for you. I promise you. Then, I will show you that there is still beauty in the world
not a future full of despair. I promise you, I will. — Amy A. Bartol

The Vicar and Miss Marcy had managed to by-pass the suffering that comes to most people - he by his religion, she by her kindness to others. And it came to me that if one does that, one is liable to miss too much along with the suffering - perhaps, in a way, life itself. Is that why Miss Marcy seems so young for her age - why the Vicar, in spite of all his cleverness, has that look of an elderly baby? I said aloud: 'I don't want to miss *anything.*' And then misery came rushing back like a river that has been dammed up. I tried to open my heart to it, to welcome it as a part of my life's experience, and at first that made it easier to bear. Then it got worse than ever before - it was physical as well as mental, my heart and ribs and shoulders and chest, even my arms, ached. — Dodie Smith

The worst is missing them, you know? And knowing they won't be back again. Just knowing that. Sometimes you forget and it's as though they're on vacation or something and you think, gee, I wish they'd call. You miss them. You forget they're really gone. You forget the past six months even happened. Isn't that weird? Isn't that crazy? Then you catch yourself . . . and it's real again. — Jack Ketchum

Well, hell yeah! I'm gonna kick your ass, too!"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Not this time you're not. I have a new superpower."
He laughed. "And what's that? Harsh language?"
I leaned over to kiss his neck once, and then ran my tongue up to his ear, kissing his earlobe. He froze in place.
"Distraction," I breathed into his ear.
He grabbed my arms and flipped me onto my back. "You're going to miss another class. — Jamie McGuire

But a part of me wants to fling the cloak off and put Elias's back on. I know I'm acting the fool, but somehow Elias's cloak made me feel good. Perhaps because more than reminding me of him, it reminded me of who I was around him. Braver. Stronger. Flawed, certainly, but unafraid. I miss that girl. That Laia. That version of myself that burned brightest when Elias Veturius was near. The Laia who made mistakes. The Laia whose mistakes led to needless death. How could I forget? I thank Keenan quietly and stuff the old cloak in my bag. Then I pull the new one closer and tell myself that it's warmer. — Sabaa Tahir

He leaned his head to me, his neck so close to my lips, I felt the heat coming off his skin. His breath was warm against my ear. His voice was a ragged snarl. "I miss you."
This wasn't happening.
"I worry about you." He dipped his head and looked into my eyes. "I worry something stupid will happen and I won't be there and you'll be gone. I worry we won't ever get a chance and it's driving me out of my skull."
No, no, no, no ...
We stared at each other. The tiny space between us felt too hot. Muscles bulged on his naked frame. He looked feral.
Mad gold eyes stared into mine. "Do you miss me, Kate?"
I closed my eyes trying to shut him out. I could lie then we would be back to square one. Nothing would be resolved. I'd still be alone, hating him and wanting him.
He grabbed my shoulders and shook me once. "Do you miss me?"
I took the plunge. "Yes. — Ilona Andrews

Miss Cecily," she gasped, and then her eyes went toWill. She clapped a hand over her mouth, turned, and bolted back into the house.
"Oh, dear," said Tessa.
"I have that effect on women," Will said. — Cassandra Clare

I'm lying on Cash's chest, tracing his tattoo.
"What does this mean?" I whisper.
"It's the Chinese symbol for awesome," he teases lightly.
I giggle. "If it's not, which I imagine it isn't, then it should be."
"Are you paying me a compliment? I just want to be sure, so I don't miss it."
I slap his ribs. "You make it sound like I'm mean and horrible because I don't throw myself at your feet."
"You don't have to throw yourself at my feet. Although if you want to, I'm sure I can think of something for you to do while you're down there."
I look up at him and he's waggling his eyebrows again.
"I'm sure you could." Shaking my head, I settle back onto his chest and resume tracing the ink shapes. "Seriously, what do they mean?"
Cash is quiet for so long I begin to think he's not going to answer me. But then he finally speaks.
"It's a collage of things that remind me of my family. — M. Leighton

So where were we?"
"I was stepping back," he says, "and you were chastising me for it."
I chuckle. "Ah yes. So, shall I take matters into my own hands, or do you have the proper tool for the job?" I kiss his palm and then glance down at the lump in his towel.
"Well, miss." His voice has a slight southern twang. "A skilled lawman knows how to choose the right tool for the job, and that - " He motions with his head, " - is not the one I plan to use right now. Sorry to disappoint."
"I hate it when you get cocky. — D.L. Orton

I hope you're at peace. I hope you... I hope you're in heaven, and you fell in love with someone who treats you better than I ever did, and that they're fucking your brains out and then fucking your brains back in after that on a daily basis. I'll always miss you, Lucille. I'm sorry I named a fucking baseball bat after you. — Robert Kirkman

We saw Uncle Jack every Christmas, and every Christmas he yelled across the street for Miss Maudie to come marry him. Miss Mauide would yell back, "Call a little louder, Jack Finch, and they'll hear you the post office, I haven't heard you yet!" Jem and I thought this a strange way to ask for a lady's hand in marriage, but then again Uncle Jack was rather strange. — Harper Lee

God chose to deliberately venture into and intentionally occupy depths far below and infinitely beyond that which any human has ever descended, and then to raise Himself back up to glory from those horridly dark places. And I pray that we never miss the fact that Christmas is God's invitation for us to join Him in the rising. — Craig D. Lounsbrough

I suppose you mean to scandalize society by announcing your betrothal to Miss Butterfield tonight."
"Of course," Oliver said, without a trace of irritation. "Unless you'd rather do it yourself. I'm more than happy to hand the office over to you, Gran. Maria and I will just nod and smile while you get all the glory for making the match."
Mercy. Talk about throwing down the gauntlet.
Mrs. Plumtree's mouth fell open. Then snapped shut. When she spoke again, her voice sounded strained, though Maria could have sworn she caught a gleam in the elderly lady's eye. "Perhaps I will. God knows you won't do it properly."
"Go ahead." His eyes said, I dare you.
There was a trace of smugness on his face now, as if he knew he was on the verge of winning.
A tense quiet fell over the carriage. Clearly Mrs. Plumtree and Oliver were each waiting for the other to back down. — Sabrina Jeffries

I don't want Tiamat to go back," said Jeremy sullenly. "I want her to stay here with me."
Miss Priest laughed. It was not a horrible laugh at all. "What a terrible idea!" she said. "Why do you want her to stay?"
Because I love her. I don't want to lose her."
Miss Priest reached out and took his chin in her hand. She looked into his eyes. "You silly boy," she said. "Nothing you love is lost. Not really. Things, people - they always go away, sooner or later. You can't hold them, any more than you can hold moonlight. But if they've touched you, if they're inside you, then they're still yours. The only things you ever really have are the ones you hold inside your heart. — Bruce Coville

If God had wanted somebody with St. Francis's consistently winning personality for the job in the New Testament, he'd've picked him, you can be sure. As it was, he picked the best, the smartest, the most loving, the least sentimental the most unimitative master he could possibly have picked. And when you miss seeing that, I swear to you, you're missing the whole point of the Jesus Prayer. The Jesus Prayer has one aim, and one aim only. To endow the person who says it with Christ-consciousness. Not to set up some little cozy, holier-than-thou trysting place with some sticky, adorable divine personage who'll take you in his arms and relieve you of all your duties and make all your nasty weltschmerzen and Professor Tuppers go away and never come back. And by God, if you have intelligence enough to see that - and you do - and yet you refuse to see it, then you're misusing the prayer, you're using it to ask for a world full of dolls and saints and no Professor Tuppers. — J.D. Salinger

Doesn't it blow your mind that God thought of you? You were not a random birth. You were created in the mind of God. He named you and then wrote your name on the palm of His hands. He has counted every hair on your head and collected every tear you have cried ~ that is how precious you are to Him. Remember, this is a soul dance and our partner, our Father, is waltzing us back home. When we stumble ~ we learn how to get up. When we fall off the cliff ~ we learn how to fly. Remember if you're afraid of stumbling you will never get to fall, you will never fly, and oh I tell you, you don't want to miss that adventure, by the way, they are all adventures. So, stumble my child, skin your knees and elbows, let go, let God and when you come to the edge of that cliff....Fall.... — Aleece Walz

Hey, we're your friends. We wouldn't miss it." "But ... " She stopped herself. "What is it?" I asked. "The prophecy?" "I'm sure it's fine," she said in a small voice. "What was the last line?" Then she did something that really surprised me. She blinked back tears and put out her arms. I stepped forward and hugged her. Butterflies started turning my stomach into a mosh pit. "Hey, it's ... it's okay. — Rick Riordan

Last night I dreamed about her," he said. "She had this shawl wrapped around her shoulders with tassels hanging off it, and her hair was long like old times. She said, 'Red, I want to learn every step of you, and dance till the end of the night.' " He stopped speaking. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose. Denny and Stem stood with a screen balanced between them and looked at each other helplessly.

"Then I woke up," Red said after a minute. He stuffed the handkerchief back in his pocket. "I thought, 'This must mean I miss having her close attention, the way I've always been used to.' Then I woke up again, for real. Have either of you ever done that? Dreamed that you woke up, and then found you'd still been asleep? I woke up for real and I thought, 'Oh, boy. I see I've still got a long way to go with this.' Seems I haven't quite gotten over it, you know? — Anne Tyler

steps, deep in thought. A breeze was slightly disturbing his hair. Then, as we watched, he walked very slowly up the steps. At the top, he turned and came back down, a little faster. Turning once more, my father became still again for several seconds, contemplating the steps before him. Eventually, he climbed them a second time, very deliberately. This time he continued on across the grass until he had almost reached the summerhouse, then turned and came walking slowly back, his eyes never leaving the ground. In fact, I can describe his manner at that moment no better than the way Miss Kenton puts it in her letter; it was indeed 'as though he hoped to find some precious jewel he had dropped there'. — Kazuo Ishiguro

Here goes. See, my boyfriend and I decided to stay together for the summer, you know, even though he had to go visit some family in nowhereville. At least, that's what he told me. Anyway, everything was fine at first, because you know, we talked every night, and then boom, he just stopped calling. So I called and texted him like the good girlfriend I am, and it wasn't stalkerish, I swear, because I stopped after, like, the thirtieth time. A week goes by before he finally hits me back, and he was totally drunk and all, hey, baby, I miss you and what are you wearing, like no time had passed, and I was all, you so do not deserve to know. — Gena Showalter

Loser"
"Father directed choir. When it paused on a Sunday,
he liked to loiter out morning with the girls;
then back to our cottage, dinner cold on the table,
Mother locked in bed devouring tabloid.
You should see him, white fringe about his ears,
bald head more biased than a billiard ball
he never left a party. Mother left by herself
I threw myself from her car and broke my leg ...
Years later, he said, 'How jolly of you to have jumped.'
He forgot me, mother replaced his name, I miss him.
When I am unhappy, I try to squeeze the hour
an hour or half-hour smaller than it is;
orphaned, I wake at midnight and pray for day
the lovely ladies get me through the day — Robert Lowell

Deep Throat stamped his foot. 'A conspiracy like this ... a conspiracy investigation ... the rope has to tighten slowly around everyone's neck. You build convincingly from the outer edges in, you get ten times the evidence you need against the Hunts and the Liddys. They feel hopelessly finished - they may not talk right away, but the grip is on them. Then you move up and do the same thing at the next level. If you shoot too high and miss, the everyone feels more secure. Lawyers work this way. I'm sure smart reporters must, too. You've put the investigation back months. It puts everyone on the defensive - editors, FBI agents, everybody has to go into a crouch after this.'
Woodward swallowed hard. He deserved the lecture.
Carl Bernstein, Bob Woodward — Carl Bernstein

Yes, it's all different," he said.
"You're going to be very surprised."
But I wasn't thinking of that. I only
wanted to hold him. "Listen," he said,
"I miss that too.
And now you'll be telling stories
of my coming back
and they won't be false, and they won't be true,
but they'll be real."
And then, as he used to, he said, "Let's go!"
And we walked down the beach together. — Mary Oliver

When
When it's over, it's over, and we don't know
any of us, what happens then.
So I try not to miss anything.
I think, in my whole life, I have never missed
The full moon
or the slipper of its coming back.
Or, a kiss.
Well, yes, especially a kiss. — Mary Oliver

Wow, top five percent of your class at Northwestern. Nice!" Joel said and then looked over at me. "Bet you're glad to have someone so amazing working under you, huh?"
Chloe coughed slightly, bringing her napkin up from her lap to cover her mouth. I smiled as I quickly glanced over to her and then back to Joel. "Yes, its absolutely amazing having Miss Mills under me. She always gets the job done. — Christina Lauren

That doesn't sound invisible to me." "I'm saying it wrong, then." Lydia searched for a better way to explain. "She was always holding herself back. She was cocaptain, not captain. She could've dated the quarterback, but she dated his brother instead. She could've been top in her class, but she'd purposefully turn in a paper late or miss an assignment so she'd fall closer to the middle. She would know about Mauna Kea, but she would say Everest because winning would bring too much attention. — Karin Slaughter

I remember being a kid, and if you had to pee, well, you had to hold it until the commercial break. Then you rushed, and hopefully, if you're going to the kitchen for a snack, you'll be back before so you don't miss a line. If your sister sneezed or was talking over a line, there was no way of knowing what that line was or what the joke was. — America Ferrera

His quick eyes seemed to miss nothing, and she couldn't hide the
motion of her fingers squeezing the fabric of her skirts. His gaze rose back to her face, lingering on her
lips, then meeting her eyes. Even giving away her nerves with the telltale sign of her pinched fingers, she
refused to look away.
"Andreas, I think I've fallen in love."
"Roman." There was a wealth of unspoken meaning in that one word, so darkly uttered. But Roman's
too-beautiful mouth crooked, head cocked, eyes watching. — Anne Mallory

No one likes sarcasm, Miss Cain. I've merely delayed my exit to promise you something. You took my straight razor, li'l darlin'. That I view as an unforgivable offense. So when the time comes, when you have served your purpose, I swear to you I'm gonna kill you for free." And with that, Billy-Ray Sanguine disappeared into the ground. Then he popped his head back up. "Or at least half price." And he was gone again. — Derek Landy

Still have your passport?"
I feel my coat once more. "Got it."
"Good." And then his hand is inside my pocket.My heart spazzes,but he doesn't notice.He pulls out my passport and flicks it open.
WAIT.WHY DOES HE HAVE MY PASSPORT?
His eyebrows shoot up.I try to snatch it back,but he holds it out of my reach. "Why are your eyes crossed?" He laughs. "Have you had some kind of ocular surgery I don't know about?"
"Give it back?" Another grab and miss, and I change tactics and lunge for his coat instead. I snag his passport.
"NO!"
I open it up,and it's ... baby St. Clair. "Dude.How old is this picture?"
He slings my passport at me and snatches his back. "I was in middle school. — Stephanie Perkins

"Oh, but I love them so. There." Margo stepped back, then nodded in satisfaction. "I didn't have much to work with, but ... " "Keep it up, Miss D Cup," Kate grumbled, then looked down and goggled. "Jesus, where did they come from?" "Amazing, isn't it? In the right harness, those puppies just rise." "I have breasts." Stunned, Kate patted the swell rising above black satin and lace. "And cleavage." "It's all a matter of proper positioning and making the most of what we have. Even when it's next to nothing." "Shut up." Grinning, Kate slicked her hands down her torso. "Look, Ma. I'm a girl."
... Her friend was sitting in an elegant Queen Anne chair wearing a black bustier with matching lacy garter belt and sheer black stockings. "Why, Kate, you look so ... different." "I have tits," she stated and rose. "Margo gave them to me." — Nora Roberts

Not able to stop it, I felt a small smile tilt up the corners of my mouth. "Noted. Althought I must protest that you keep forcing unwanted kisses on me."
"It's the only way to get one. Unwanted indeed." He raised a knowing eyebrow at me. Arrogant Knave. I shook my head, feeling sad and happy all at the same time. "Why do you persist, Wolfe?"
His grin was slow and wicked as he stood back from me, allowing my body and mind to breathe again. "Strategy."
"Strategy?"
He cocked his eyebrow. "At first I thought imposed isolation would make you miss me-"
"Why you arro-"
"-But then I realised that it's being near me you can't resist. And there are only so many kisses you'll take before you give in to me completely, Rogan. — Samantha Young

I think we should speak more of my suggestions, Miss Chatsworth.' He tilted his head and looked at the door, then dismissed it and whoever might be behind it. 'Unless you enjoy the spread of ugly rumors?'
'Blackmail?' She twisted her lips ... 'How bourgeois.'
'Actually, blackmail heartens back to the best of kings. — Anne Mallory

So what made you think he was a ghost?" Maggie interrupted.

"The next time I saw him it was five years later, and he hadn't aged at all. Then a few years passed, and I saw him again. He looked exactly the same, same blue jeans and white shirt, same everything right down to the 50s hair do with the duck butt in the back. Pardon the language, Miss Honeycutt." Gus gave a sheepish grin. "I just didn't know what else to call it.

"I'm well aware of what a duck's butt is Gus," Aunt Irene said primly.

"A duck's butt?" Shad hooted. Rising from his seat he squatted down and waddled around the table, shaking his skinny butt wildly. "That's what this move is called, Maggie, a duck's butt."

"Shadrach, sit down." Gus smiled to soften the reprimand.

Maggie tried not to laugh and ended up snorting instead. Aunt Irene looked at her sharply, and Maggie quickly changed the subject. — Amy Harmon

She unwrapped the lamb chops from their white butcher paper and peeled a few potatoes and opened a can of peas. Her father came in with the newspaper under his arm and then swatted her on the hip with it as he went to the table to sit down. And then Jimmy came in still wearing his overcoat to say, "What's this? What's this?" And then told their father with his hands on his hips that George was taking "our miss here" out to dinner. And her father lowered the paper and smiled at her - his round, florid face and his sparse white hair which he no longer bothered to slick down with water or tonic, being mostly housebound and hardly out of his slippers all week long - and only began to pout a little, Jimmy too, when she set the plate of lamb chops and the mint jelly and the mashed potatoes and peas in their bowls on the table and then pulled off her apron and said, "I'm just going to take a shower." "Be sure to put it back," Jimmy said — Alice McDermott

Burns immediately left the class, and going into the small inner room where the books were kept, returned in half a minute, carrying in her hand a bundle of twigs tied together at one end. This ominous tool she presented to Miss Scatcherd with a respectful curtesy; then she quietly, and without being told, unloosed her pinafore, and the teacher instantly and sharply inflicted on her neck a dozen strokes with the bunch of twigs. Not a tear rose to Burns' eye; and, while I paused from my sewing, because my fingers quivered at this spectacle with a sentiment of unavailing and impotent anger, not a feature of her pensive face altered its ordinary expression. "Hardened girl!" exclaimed Miss Scatcherd; "nothing can correct you of your slatternly habits: carry the rod away." Burns obeyed: I looked at her narrowly as she emerged from the book-closet; she was just putting back her handkerchief into her pocket, and the trace of a tear glistened on her thin cheek. — Charlotte Bronte

If you sell me a horse that throws a shoe, or starts to limp, or spooks at shadows, I will miss a valuable opportunity. A quite unrecoverable opportunity. If that happens, I will not come back and demand a
refund. I will not petition the constable. I will walk back to Imre this very night and set fire to your house.
Then, when you run out the front door in your nightshirt and stockle-cap, I will kill you, cook you, and
eat you. Right there on your lawn while all your neighbors watch. — Patrick Rothfuss

She leaned in and hugged me. "I know. Thanks. I love you, too. And for the record, Cheyenne and Landon are soul mates and if they don't end up together, I want you to find a poltergeist to haunt the Easton Heights writers."
She pulled back, smiling at me, then reaching out to ruffle Lend's hair. "Take care of each other, you two obnoxious kids."
Then, throwing her shoulders back and staring straight forward, she walked through the gate. I watched, dreading seeing her turn into dust or something, but gasped in relief and joy as her ruined, unnaturally preserved body blossomed into something new, something strong and proud and undeniably alive.
She turned back, just once, and although she was nearly unrecognizable, I could see our Arianna in her smile that managed to maintain its trademark ironic twist.
"I'm going to miss her," I said.
"What?" Lend shouted.
"I said, I'm going to miss her!"
"I can't hear you! I'm going to miss her! — Kiersten White

We'll earn it all back today," I say, and we both plow into our plates. Even cold, it's one of the things I've ever tasted. I abandon my fork and scrape up the last dabs of gravy with my fingers. "I can feel Effie trinket shuddering at my manners."
"Hey, Effie, watch this!" says Peeta. He tosses his fork over his shoulder and literally licks his plate his plate clean with his tongue making loud, satisfied sounds. Then he blows a kiss to her in general, and calls, "We miss you, Effie!"
I cover his hand with my mouth. But I am laughing.
"Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave."
He grabs my hand away."What do I care. I've got you to protect me now," says Peeta, pulling me to him.
"Come on," I say in exasperation, extricating myself from his grasp but not before he gets another kiss. — Suzanne Collins

This is going to make such a great story: How I nursed a pirate back to health and my love saved him," Miss Ohio said with a contented sigh. "And then we can have our own reality show about our relationship."
- "Beauty Queens — Libba Bray

Gathering her courage, she swallowed past the lump in her throat and held his gaze. It wasn't how she'd envisioned telling him, but she couldn't let him go without saying the words. "I'm falling in love with you."
The smile died, his amused expression dissolving into shock. "What?"
"Yeah. So you have to come back so I can finish the job."
A jumble of emotions swirled in the blue depths of his eyes as he stared at her. Then he broke into a wide smile and brought a hand up to cradle her cheek. "I'm coming back, sweetheart. I wouldn't miss that chance for the world. — Kaylea Cross

I won't let this happen! I'll - " Her shrill voice cut off, although her mouth kept moving. I turned to Reth, who raised an eyebrow at me from his seat on the ground.
"I am not going to miss humanity," he said.
I laughed. "Humanity's not going to miss you, either."
Raquel smiled, then motioned to the werewolves, who were only too happy to come and bodily haul away a now rapidly flailing Anne-Whatever Whatever.
"Will she get her voice back when you leave?" I asked Reth.
"I may have accidently made that permanent."
"Well darn. Too late now! — Kiersten White

Miss Taylor says kids that are colored can't go to my school cause they're not smart enough." I come round the counter then. Lift her chin up and smooth back her funny-looking hair. "You think I'm dumb?" "No," she whispers hard, like she means it so much. She look sorry she said it. "What that tell you about Miss Taylor, then?" She blink, like she listening good. "Means Miss Taylor ain't right all the time," I say. She hug me around my neck, say, "You're righter than Miss Taylor." I tear up then. My cup is spilling over. Those is new words to me. — Kathyrn Stockett

The thing to do,' I said as we gained the lane that leads to Beech Green and Fairacre, 'is to get absolutely everything in the summer and lock it in a cupboard. Then order every scrap of food from a shop the week before Christmas and sit back and enjoy watching everyone else go mad. I've been meaning to do it for years. — Miss Read