If Walked Away Quotes & Sayings

When my generation of women walked away from the kitchen we were escorted down that path by a profiteering industry that knew a tired, vulnerable marketing target when they saw it. "Hey, ladies," it said to us, "go ahead, get liberated. We'll take care of dinner." They threw open the door and we walked into a nutritional crisis and genuinely toxic food supply. If you think toxic is an exaggeration, read the package directions for handling raw chicken from a CAFO. We came a long way, baby, into bad eating habits and collaterally impaired family dynamics. No matter what else we do or believe, food remains at the center of every culture. Ours now runs on empty calories. — Barbara Kingsolver

It took my breath away, that evening. If you've ever dreamed that you walked into your best-loved book or film or TV program, then maybe you've got some idea how it felt: things coming alive around you, strange and new and utterly familiar at the same time; the catch in your heartbeat as you move through the rooms that had such a vivid untouchable life in your mind, as your feet actually touch the carpet, as you breathe the air; the odd, secret glow of warmth as these people you've been watching for so long, from so far away, open their circle and sweep you into it. — Tana French

I go, I go away, I walk, I wander, and everywhere I go I bear my shell with me, I remain at home in my room, among my books, I do not approach an inch nearer to Marrakech or Timbuktu. Even if I took a train, a boat, or a motor-bus, if I went to Morocco for my holiday, if I suddenly arrived at Marrakech, I should be always in my room, at home. And if I walked in the squares and in the sooks, if I gripped an Arab's shoulder, to feel Marrakech in his person - well, that Arab would be at Marrakech, not I : I should still be seated in my room, placid and meditative as is my chosen life, two thousand miles away from the Moroccan and his burnoose. In my room. Forever. — Jean-Paul Sartre

I had left my anger somewhere long ago. Put it down on a park bench and walked away. And yet. It had been so long, I didn't know any other way of being. One day I woke up and said to myself: It's not too late. The first days were strange. I had to practice smiling in front of the mirror. But it came back to me. It was as if a weight had been lifted. I let go, and something let go of me. — Nicole Krauss

She walked away from him with swift, sure strides, as if she knew her destination. As if it had nothing to do with him. — Courtney Milan

Her smile faded. Do you know the worst thing about it? I forgot him. Daemon was a friend, and I forgot him. That Winsol, before I was ... he gave me a silver bracelet. I don't know what happened to it. I had a picture of him. I don't know what happened to that either. And then he gave everything he had to help me, and when it was done, everyone walked away from him as if he didn't matter. — Anne Bishop

When, about fifteen years ago, I walked into Arshile's studio for the first time, the atmosphere was so beautiful that I got a little dizzy and when I came to, I was bright enough to take the hint immediately. If the bookkeepers think it necessary to make sure of where things and people came from, well then, I came from 36 Union Square ... I am glad that it is about impossible to get away from his powerful influence. — Willem De Kooning

The night passed away, and the sun rose from the ocean; my feelings became calmer, if it may be called calmness when the violence of rage sinks into the depths of despair. I left the house, the horrid scene of the last night's contention, and walked on the beach of the sea, which I almost regarded as an insuperable barrier between me and my fellow creatures. — Mary Shelley

Misner walked away from the pulpit, to the rear wall of the church. There he stretched, reaching up until he was able to unhook the cross that hung there. He carried it then, past the empty choir stall, past the organ where Kate sat, the chair where Pulliam was, on to the podium and held it before him for all to see - if only they would ... Without this sign, the believer's life was confined to praising God and taking the hits. The praise was credit; the hits were interest due on a debt that could never be paid ... But with it, in the religion in which this sign was paramount and foundational, well, life was a whole other matter. — Toni Morrison

They both walked to the center of the room. Jonas put his tunic back on. 'Goodbye, sir,' he said. 'Thank you for my first day.'
The old man nodded to him. He looked drained, and a little sad.
'Sir?' Jonas said shyly.
'Yes? Do you have a question?'
'It's just that I don't know your name. I thought you were The Receiver, but you say that now I'm The Receiver. So I don't know what to call you.'
The man had sat back down in the comfortable upholstered chair. He moved his shoulders around as if to ease away an aching sensation. He seemed terribly weary.
'Call me The Giver,' he told Jonas. — Lois Lowry

This isn't coffee," I accused immediately as the rich smell of chocolate met my nose, making me almost want to groan. Okay, I totally wanted to groan. Just not in front of him. Fine, I absolutely wanted to groan in front of him. But in a private setting with his hands and mouth all over me.

"Figured you needed a pick-me-up."

"You told me you wouldn't give me something like this again. Not even if I begged," I reminded him.

"Well, it's made with water, not full-fat milk and there is only a tiny bit of whipped cream," he said, casual as could be. Which was why I took a sip as he leaned across the counter toward me, not thinking anything of it. Until he went ahead and added in a voice low enough that only the two of us could hear, "And the next time you beg me for something, Maddy, it's gonna be my cock."

I nearly choked to death.

And he just casually walked away, wiping the counter. — Jessica Gadziala

Eli had shone a light into my world, he'd lit up the dark corners just by existing and even if I walked away now, I knew I'd ache for him. — E.M. Denning

IN MICHIGAN IT seemed as if spring would never come; then when it did, all too soon it was summer. One day I realized the cold was loosening its grip, and then overnight, the weather turned hot, with the sun whitening the concrete streets. As if to reward themselves for having endured such a long, harsh winter, everyone walked around wearing as little as they could get away with. — Minae Mizumura

I couldn't keep the dimensions of my car in my head. Or my own, for I kept having accidents. I cracked cups. I dropped plates. Fell over. Broke a toe on a door-jamb. I was as clumsy as I had been as a child. But when I was busy with Mabel I was never clumsy. The world with the hawk in it was insulated from harm, and in that world I was exactly aware of all the edges of my skin. Every night I slept and dreamed of creances, of lines and knots, of skeins of wool, skeins of geese flying south. And every afternoon I walked out onto the pitch with relief, because when the hawk was on my first I knew who I was, and I was never angry with her, even if I wanted to sink to my knees and weep every time she tried to fly away. — Helen Macdonald

How many men can honestly say a woman has walked their heart?" he asked. "But I can. And if you'll have me, I'd like you to stay there." Tears welled in Ceony's eyes. She didn't blink them away. Emery reached into his pocket and pulled from it a loop of white and violet paper about the width of his fist, made of dozens of tiny, crisscrossing links. Not a spell, just something crafted to be beautiful. From it hung a gold ring that glimmered rose in the sunlight. A diamond carved in the shape of a raindrop sat at its center, flanked on either side by a small emerald. The paper magician slipped the ring off the paper loop and turned it in his hands. Dropping to one knee, he said, "Ceony Maya Twill, will you marry me?" THE — Charlie N. Holmberg

If there was one thing Zoya had learned in life, it was that men always walked away from their responsibilities. — Ted Cross

Took Amanda's hand. "Sisters," she repeated. "I walked away from you years ago. I'll be damned if I let you stand alone today. — Courtney Milan

Yes, there is something in me hateful, repulsive," thought Ljewin, as he came away from the Schtscherbazkijs', and walked in the direction of his brother's lodgings. "And I don't get on with other people. Pride, they say. No, I have no pride. If I had any pride, I should not have put myself in such a position". — Leo Tolstoy

The reality is, I like imperfection. You take away from the world when you're not yourself. Whatever is unique and special about you was designed by God. And when you try to be someone else, we don't get you. Who knows what you would have contributed to the world had you just been yourself, if you had just celebrated who you are and just walked boldly? — Queen Latifah

Christianity is not about good people getting better. If anything, it is good news for bad people coping with their failure to be good. The heart of the Christian faith is Good News, not good advice, good technique, or good behavior. Too many people have walked away from the church, not because they're walking away from Jesus, but because the church has walked away from Jesus. — Tullian Tchividjian

When something like that happens, people want to try to find some dirt and make it more of a soap opera. But I think we both walked away with the door still open, if we want to do something together again. So yeah, I would call it a friendly break-up. — Scott Stapp

That taught us how to block a sword with two knives. But what if an ax man's coming at me?"
Gilan looked suspicious. "An ax man? I don't recommend trying to block an ax with two knives."
But Will wouldn't take no for an answer. "But what if he's charging at me?" Horace walked over.
Gilan looked away. "Uh ... shoot him."
Horace intervened. "Can't, his bowstring's broken."
Gilan gritted his teeth. "Run and hide."
Will kept on him. "There's a sheer cliff behind me."
Horace caught on. "There's a sheer cliff behind him, and his bowstring's broken. What should he do?"
Gilan thought for a moment. "Jump off the cliff, it'll be less messy that way. — John Flanagan

For his lunch break, Alex decided to sit outside for a smoke. There was no break room to speak of, just a backdoor that led to a neglected parking lot and an old payphone. There was an upturned crate by the door used to hold the door open or to sit on if one so desired. But Alex couldn't sit down, even though he had been standing for the past four hours, his anxious mind kept his feet moving.
He paced back and forth, smoking his cigarette with the speed of an anxious drug addict. The cool but faint breeze pushed the smoke away from him and dissipated it into nothing. He still felt angry about the run-in with Gonzalez. It had consistently poked at him like a curious sadist with a pointed stick ever since he walked away from the door slammed in his face. — J.C. Joranco

She was nobody here. It was not just that she had no friends and family; it was rather that she was a ghost in this room, in the streets on the way to work, on the shop floor. Nothing meant anything. The rooms in the house on Friary Street belonged to her, she thought; when she moved in them she was really there. In the town, if she walked to the shop or to the Vocational School, the air, the light, the ground, it was all solid and part of her, even if she met no one familiar. Nothing here was part of her. It was false, empty, she thought. She closed her eyes and tried to think, as she had done so many times in her life, of something she was looking forward to, but there was nothing. Not the slightest thing. Not even Sunday. Nothing maybe except sleep, and she was not even certain she was looking forward to sleep. In any case, she could not sleep yet, since it was not yet nine o'clock. There was nothing she could do. It was as though she had been locked away. — Colm Toibin

If I had eyes in the back of my head, I would have told you you looked good as I walked away. — Jack Johnson

If you have lived in cities and have walked in the park on a summer afternoon, you have perhaps seen, blinking in a corner of his iron cage, a huge, grotesque kind of monkey, a creature with ugly, sagging, hairless skin below his eyes and a bright purple underbody. This monkey is a true monster. In the completeness of his ugliness he achieved a kind of perverted beauty. Children stopping before the cage are fascinated, men turn away with an air of disgust, and women linger for a moment, trying perhaps to remember which one of their male acquaintances the thing in some faint way resembles. — Sherwood Anderson

Two thoughts walked into my place. The first thought said that we hadn't slept together because sex would have closed an entrance behind us and opened an exit ahead of us. The second thought told me quite clearly what to do. Maybe Takeshi's wife was right - maybe it is unsafe to base an important decision on your feelings for a person. Takeshi says the same thing often enough. Every bonk, he says, quadruples in price by the morning after. But who are Takeshi or his wife to lecture anybody? If not love, then what? I looked at the time. Three o'clock. She was how many thousand kilometers and one time zone away. I could leave some money to cover the cost of the call. "Good timing," Tomoyo answered, like I was calling from the cigarette machine around the corner. "I'm unpacking." "Missing me?" "A tiny little bit, maybe." "Liar! You don't sound surprised to hear me." I could hear the smile in her voice. "I'm not. When are you coming? — David Mitchell

But now she could not bear the way she sounded. She was not a person anyone could love.
...
And thus fled to her room. There she wept, bitterly, an ugly sound punctuated by great gulps. She could not stop herself. She could hear his footsteps in the passage outside. He walked up and down, up and down.
'Come in,' she prayed. 'Oh dearest, do come in.'
But he did not come in. He would not come in. This was the man she had practically contracted to give away her fortune to. He offered to marry her as a favour and then he would not even come into her room.
Later, she could smell him make himself a sweet pancake for his lunch. She thought this a childish thing to eat, and selfish, too. If he were a gentleman he would now come to her room and save her from the prison her foolishness had made for her. He did not come. She heard him pacing in his room. — Peter Carey

Once Monica appeared wearing a borderline unprofessional dress, a bit too short, if you asked me. I could only think, Who does she think she is? She was straphanging around George Stephanopoulos, and I shooed her like a stray cat. She hissed another lame excuse. I was fed up with her games, but at this moment the president arrived, easily catching her sight (or scent - I don't know which). They made small talk. She walked away. Her mission was complete; she had caught the president's wandering eye. She turned back to ensure she had his attention - and flipped up her black-and-white print dress to reveal her blue thong. — Gary J. Byrne

When I was in power, I found that experts can't be trusted. For this simple reason: unlike tyrants, they are under no delusion that a country, a people is their body. Under this delusion a tyrant takes everything personally. An expert takes nothing personally. Nothing is ever precisely his fault. If a bridge collapses, or a war miscarries, he has already walked away. He still has his expertise. Also,
people imagine that because a thing is big, it has had a great deal of intelligent thought given to it. This is not true. A big idea is even more apt to be wrong than a small one, because the scale is inorganic. The Great Wall, for instance, is extremely stupid. The two biggest phenomena in the world right now are Maoism and American television, and both are extremely stupid. — John Updike

At night frantic men walked boldly to hen roosts and carried off the squawking chickens. If they were shot at, they did not run, but splashed sullenly away; and if they were hit, they sank tiredly in the mud. — John Steinbeck

I missed her smile ... the way she would roll her eyes when she thought I was being ridiculous ... the quiet way she almost tiptoed when she walked that gave her away as a ballerina ... the fact that she could probably give me a fairly decent ass-kicking if she set her mind to it. I missed it all.
I missed her. — M.A. George

The field was carpeted with the most lustrous show of wildflowers she had ever seen - flowers by the hundreds, the thousands, the millions. Purple irises. White lilies. Pink daisies. Yellow buttercups and red columbines and many others she knew no names for. A breeze had arisen; the sun had broken through the clouds. She shrugged off her pack and walked slowly forward. It was as if she were wading into a sea of pure color. The tips of her fingers brushed the petals of the flowers as she passed. They seemed to bow their heads in salutation, welcoming her into their embrace. In a trance of beauty, Amy moved among them. Corridors of golden sunshine fell over the field; far away, across the sea, a new age had begun.
Here she would make her garden. She would make her garden, and wait. — Justin Cronin

It was as if there were no names here, as if there were no words. The desert cleansed everything in its wind, wiped everything away. The men had the freedom of the open spaces in their eyes, their skin was like metal. Sunlight blazed everywhere. The ochre, yellow, gray, white sand, the fine sand shifted, showing the direction of the wind. It covered all traces, all bones. It repelled light, drove away water, life, far from a center that no one could recognize. The men knew perfectly well that the desert wanted nothing to do with them: so they walked on without stopping, following the paths that other feet had already traveled in search of something else. — Jean-Marie G. Le Clezio

Humnnn," he grunted, then laughed. "A dog bite can't hurt a nigger." "It's swelling and it hurts," I said. "If it bothers you, let me know," he said. "But I never saw a dog yet that could really hurt a nigger." He turned and walked away and the black boys gathered to watch his tall form disappear down the aisles of wet bricks. "Sonofabitch!" "He'll get his someday!" "Boy, their hearts are hard!" "Lawd, a white man'll do anything! — Richard Wright

Mallory!" Catcher's voice boomed down the stairs.
Mallory fixed her mouth into a tight line and walked me into the kitchen. "Ignore it," she advised. "Much like the bubonic plague, it'll go away if you give it enough time."
"Mallory! You weren't finished! Get back in here!"
I glanced up the stairway. "You didn't leave him handcuffed to the bed or something, did you?"
"Jesus, no." I incrementally relaxed, until she continued. "My headboard's a single piece of wood. There's nothing to handcuff him to. — Chloe Neill

A homeless man visited my store today. The few quarters that he had in his pocket he invested on books. I offered him free books, but he insisted on giving me his quarters. He walked away filled with joy as if he possessed the world's riches in his hands. In a way, he did. He left me smiling and knowing that he was wealthier than many others ... (01-21-10) — Besa Kosova

I know when I watch a film at this point, if I completely lose myself in the characters and the story and the world of the film I know that it's at least in my opinion, that was great. Otherwise I'm thinking: "Oh I know they were just doing A, B and C, right before they walked into the scene, then the camera was there, then they probably took the shot from this reverse close-up and moved it into this." When all of that drops away then I'm like: "Okay this was phenomenal, this was fantastic." I mean, any film or TV performance in general is probably good. — Gabriel Mann

I excused myself from the conversation, walked away, and stuck my hands in my jacket pockets. I had no drink. I didn't fidget. I kept my head down and headed for the door. It wasn't that far. I just had to get by some people who wouldn't suspect a thing, because I didn't know any of them. I didn't have to grab my coat because it was still on my shoulders. If Shawn saw me, I would say I was just going for air or a smoke or something. I had been trying to quit, and he knew this, so maybe going out for air was a better excuse. Sure, it was probably eleven below, but it was crowded and he'd buy it because I'd made him believe that I'm shy. I could be out in the midnight winter chill and home within an hour. It would have been safe, and I would have been warm, and no Chinook would have hit me. — Sawyer Paul

Stop him, stop this, she commanded herself. Reason floated away; she wanted him. If he walked away now, she might disintegrate into a pile of frustration as fragile as the leaves crumbling under foot.
His lips touched hers, shooting electric shock waves rippling to her toes. Then he claimed her with a torrid kiss. Passion welled up from her core, overpowering all thought except her desires. — Lisa Carlisle

A ghostly smile flickered across his face. "If you weren't so psychotic, you'd be fun to hang around."
"Funny, I feel that way about you too." He didn't say anything else, but the smile grew, and he walked away. — Richelle Mead

Jessica," he began. "Just leave me alone!" He turned her around. That she only hesitated briefly before she allowed it was a very good sign, to his mind. He pulled her close, then ran his blood-caked hand over her hair as gently as he knew how. She liked that. He would have walked from Hadrian's wall to London on his hands if she'd liked that, too. Saints, what a fool love made of a normally sane man. He rested his bruised cheek against her hair. "Jess," he whispered, "it was talk you shouldn't have heard." She tried to pull away, but he tightened his arms around her. "I said things I didn't mean." "You creep, then you don't care about me at all!" "I care," he said, forcing the words from between suddenly parched lips. He was so terrified, he was shaking. If she turned and walked away now, he wasn't sure he would survive. — Lynn Kurland

Not exactly what I wanted, but you know what they say about getting what you want."
"That you should want what you have instead?" I guessed.
"No! That's ridiculous advice. Jesus, who told you that? Never mind, don't even answer that. Just forget you ever heard it. They, and by 'they' I am referring to those who know what the hell they're talking about, say that you can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes ... " He held out his hand for me to finish.
"You just might get what you need?"
He shucked me under the chin and gave me his best cocky smile. "There's hope for you yet."
He walked away from me with a determined swagger and didn't look back. — Liz Reinhardt

I remember that a couple, both tall and thin, turned away from a painting and peered over as if I might be an ex-lover or a living (and unfinished) painting that had just got news of the painter's death. I know I walked out without looking back and that I walked for a long time until I realized I wasn't crying, but that it was raining and I was soaked. That night I didn't sleep at all. — Roberto Bolano

I took the dog out for a walk tonight, and together we wandered across the meadow next door. It was a warm summer's night, dark, and moonless. There were a handful of fireflies flickering intermittently, some so close to me I could see they were burning green as they flew, and some further away, who seemed to be flashing white.
And in the sky above them a continual roil of distant summer lightning (the storm distant enough that it was silent) burned and flashed and illuminated the clouds. It seemed as if the lightning bugs were talking to the lightning, in a perfect call and response of flash and counterflash. I watched the sky and the meadow flash and flash while the dog walked ahead of me, and realised that I was perfectly happy ... — Neil Gaiman

From that unremarkable gap in dense northern forest, I could finally see clearly that if I hadn't walked away from school, through devastating beauty alone on the Pacific Crest Trail, met rattlesnakes and bears, fording frigid and remote rivers as deep as I am tall - feeling terror and the gratitude that followed the realization that I'd survived rape - I'd have remained lost, maybe for my whole life. The trail had shown me how to change.

This is the story of how my recklessness became my salvation.

I wrote it. — Aspen Matis

There's no room for failure performing [stand-up] for a black audience. If you don't get them right away it's tough winning them back even if you're doing top-notch material. If you didn't win them right when you walked out there, it's tough. — Hannibal Buress

A smile spread over Dr. Blockhead's face. 'But where are my manners?' he said. 'What a bad host I am. Let me offer you a little refreshment.'
He picked up a jar, opened it, and held it out to Scully.
'Is that what I think it is?' she asked.
'The finest assortment of living crickets money can buy,' said Dr. Blockhead. 'And all quite recently captured. If you don't believe me, read the expiration date on the label.'
'I believe you,' said Scully, still peering at the contents.
She reached in and picked out her cricket. Then she put it in her mouth and crunched down.
She smiled at Dr. Blockhead. 'Thank you so much for the treat,' she said.
Then she gave him a dazzling smile and walked away.
'That Scully,' said Mulder, shaking his head. 'She's just full of surprises. — Les Martin

The Crystal Cathedral Ministries, the assets and the buildings, would still be in the hands of the ministries if my father would have simply walked away. When I accepted the role as the next senior pastor, he had agreed to be an ambassador-at-large and raise funds for the endowment fund. He didn't do that. — Robert A. Schuller

It's braver to stay. It takes courage to stay. I am sure I speak for all the single people here when I say that I don't want to ever lack that courage. I don't want to lose my best friend and my true love, just because I wanted to
stay in control and not take a risk. Even if they walked away, even if
they ran to the other side of the world, even if I thought that I didn't have a chance in hell, I still want to know that I did everything I could
to make it happen. — Gemma Burgess

The great teachers of your Christian religion understand this. They know that Jesus was not perturbed by the crucifixion, but expected it. He could have walked away, but he did not. He could have stopped the process at any point. He had that power. Yet he did not. He allowed himself to be crucified in order that he might stand as man's eternal salvation. Look, he said, at what I can do. Look at what is true. And know that these things, and more, shall you also do. For have I not said, ye are gods? Yet you do not believe. If you cannot, then, believe in yourself, believe in me. Such was Jesus' compassion that he begged for a way - and created it - to so impact the world that all might come to heaven (Self realization) - if in no other way, then through him. For he defeated misery and death. And so might you. The grandest teaching of Christ was not that you shall have everlasting life - — Neale Donald Walsch

She didn't do anything at all
except arrived without warning
in the middle of the night
(right when I least expected it)

She walked by me, with a strut in her step
smelling like summer
causing me to turn my head
(even the leaves swayed her way)

All she did was look at me
with bright, curious eyes
filled with mirth and secrets
(as if an adventure was about to happen)

I tried not to think of her at all
not the curves of her body
or the stories that she told
(you knew there'd never be dull conversations)

By then, I couldn't walk away
I got caught up in her storm
without a care in the world
(I was a very good swimmer)

She was a hurricane who created her own sunshine. — M.J. Abraham

You're going to want to avoid using wax on your dreadlocks. It's a popular way to lock up hair, but it isn't conducive to healthy hair. Wax pushes water and soap away, while attracting dirt and sometimes even bugs. It can also cause mold and mildew to grow in your hair, creating a smelly, stinky mess. If you've ever walked past a person with dreadlocks and been able to smell them from ten feet away, they probably use wax. — Shawntay Jones

I walked away exhilarated by my success, because there's nothing like making a difference in someone's life, even if that difference is a lifetime of nightmares and a fortune in therapy bills. — Marilyn Manson

I just felt all along that if I could get a certain amount of years in the league, have great years and still have my health when I walked away, that would be great. — Kevin Johnson

Weeper "I hate to lose something," then she bent her head, "even a dime, I wish I was dead. I can't explain it. No more to be said. 'Cept I hate to lose something. "I lost a doll once and cried for a week. She could open her eyes, and do all but speak. I believe she was took, by some doll-snatching sneak. I tell you, I hate to lose something. "A watch of mine once, got up and walked away. It had twelve numbers on it and for the time of day. I'll never forget it and all I can say Is I really hate to lose something. "Now if I felt that way 'bout a watch and a toy, What you think I feel 'bout my lover-boy? I ain't threatening you, madam, but he is my evening's joy. And I mean I really hate to lose something. — Maya Angelou

We in the West walked away from Afghanistan at the end of the Cold War and left it as a country devastated socially and armed to the teeth. If we do that again, there will be consequences. — Bob Ainsworth

And if Magdalen was waiting for her at the balcony, then she must already be with Lord Thornbeck. A pang of jealousy attacked her like a bird of prey, its talons gripping her heart. No. She stomped her foot to force her heart to listen. I will not allow jealousy to get hold of me. Magdalen was her friend, and Avelina could never have Lord Thornbeck anyway. She hurried toward the balcony. She would be joyful for Lord Thornbeck and Magdalen. So why did she have to blink away tears as she walked? When — Melanie Dickerson

To lose love is a terrible thing. But to turn away from it is unbearable. Will you spend the rest of your life replaying it in your head? Wondering if you walked away too soon or too easily? Or if you'll ever love anyone that deeply again? — Kristin Hannah

Dear Aspiring Writer, you are not ready. Stop. Put that finished story away and start another one. In a month, go back and look at the first story. RE-EDIT it. Then send it to a person you respect in the field who will be hard on you. Pray for many many many red marks. Fix them. Then put it away for two weeks. Work on something else. Finally, edit one last time. Now you are ready to sub your first work.
Criticism is hard to take at first. Trust me, I've been there. But learn to think of crit marks as a knife. Each one is designed to cut away the bad and leave a scar. Scars prove you've lived, learned and walked away a winner. Any writer who tells you they don't need edits is lying. I don't care if they have 100 books out. Edits make you grow and if you aren't growing as a writer, you are dead. — Inez Kelley

Do you have any idea how maddening it's been envisioning you in the lingerie that matches those shoes?"...
"Corbin, I'm serious."
"I'm sure you are but that is my final offer. Take it or leave it and if you chose the latter, I will let this home sit empty and fall into disrepair until you finally come around."
I closed my eyes and sighed, "That's really not fair."
"Anything is fair when I'm trying my level best to get you to fall in love with me...."
I kissed him gently on the lips and walked away from him but just as I reached the hall, I turned back to see him watching me. "Oh, and if we're NOT playing fair, then maybe you should know I'm not wearing any underwear. — Brynn Myers

He walked away through the crowd before i could decide if i'd been insulted or not. Just as well. For the life of me, i couldn't think of a good comeback line. — Laurell K. Hamilton

Amah would not have approved of her meekly standing aside, twisting her hands as if she had no more resources than those girls who hung themselves without first exacting any retribution from their heartless lovers.
He would not get away with it.
She walked, like an automaton, to her horse. Her fingers dug out the jar of salve, but left behind the pilules that must be taken while one used the salve. He was already mounted when she approached him.
A quartet of birds trilled raucously as she presented the jar to him. Perhaps they were trying to warn him. Or her.
'Here, a parting gift,' she said softly. — Sherry Thomas

He would give anything if he could feel toward a lover one tenth of what he felt for Darling. Just for one heartbeat. But it wasn't meant to be. He'd accepted that a long time ago. Darling would always be heterosexual. Nothing would ever change that, and his best friend would die before sleeping with him. Why can't I walk away from Darling? Honestly, he'd tried. He'd gone from one man to another, hoping, aching that one of them would find a way into his jaded heart. And every one of them had disappointed him, and left him with scars that were deeper and uglier than the ones marring his body. But as he breathed Ture in, that part of him that he hated most surged forward. Hope was a fickle whore, and he hated the fact that he was her bitch. You've walked this path a million times, Mari. Only Darling was Darling. Everyone else was a poor substitution. Clenching — Sherrilyn Kenyon

But aside from those curling green tendrils, the gown was the bright pink of ... of ... of ... All comparisons failed Oliver. It wasn't the bright pink of anything. It was a furious shade of pink, one that nature had never intended. It was a pink that did violence to the notion of demure pastels. It didn't just shout for attention; it walked up and clubbed one over the head. It hurt his head, that pink, and yet he couldn't look away. The room was small enough that he could hear the first words of greeting. "Miss Fairfield," a woman said. "Your gown is ... very pink. And pink is ... such a lovely color, isn't it?" That last was said with a wistful quality in the speaker's voice, as if she were mourning the memory of true pink. — Courtney Milan

Above all, do not lose your desire to walk. Everyday, I walk myself into a state of well-being & walk away from every illness. I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it. But by sitting still, & the more one sits still, the closer one comes to feeling ill. Thus if one just keeps on walking, everything will be all right. — Soren Kierkegaard

He looked at me and I couldn't read his face or his scent. "I talked to Samuel earlier. He's sorry to have missed the excitement, but he's at home now. If Fideal follows you home, he'll have Samuel to contend with." He waved his hand around. "And there are plenty of us here to come to your aid."
"Are you sending me home?" Was I flirting? Damn it, I was.
He smiled, first with his eyes and then his lips, just a little, just enough to turn his face into something that made my pulse pick up. "You can stay if you'd like," he said, flirting right back. Then, a wicked light gleaming in his eyes, he went one step too far. "But I think there are too many people around for what I'd like you to stay for."
I dodged around Honey's husband and out the door, the flip-flops making little snapping sounds that didn't cover up Adam's final comment. "I like your tattoo, Mercy."
I made sure that my shoulders were stiff as I walked away. He couldn't see the grin on my face . . . — Patricia Briggs

The definition of winning has become distorted. If winning the rights to a property brings with it hundreds of millions of dollars in losses, what have you won? When faced with the prospect of heavy financial losses, we have consistently walked away and have done so again. — Dick Ebersol

We have then walked, played, or worked " enough," so we desist. That amount of fatigue is an efficacious obstruction on this side of which our usual life is cast. But if an unusual necessity forces us to press onward, a surprising thing occurs. The fatigue gets worse up to a certain critical point, when gradually or suddenly it passes away, and we are fresher than before. We have evidently tapped a level of new energy, masked until then by the fatigue-obstacle usually obeyed. — William James

As his boots walked towards the old station, he felt as though he were hallucinating. Scary apprehension increased the beat of his heart and the sweat upon his forehead was cold. The reality of where he stood created a sinking feeling inside of him.
An old man everyone called Uncle Tucker once owned this place. His sole existence behind the counter all of the time, day and night. He could have been a creature out of a fairy tale, with his long white beard and equally long white hair. Merlin. The overalls and the ball cap perched upon his head, along with the half-smoked cigar with an endless burning orb positioned in his mouth. It made him a fixture in time. He wondered if Tucker would still be alive. Tucker with his endless stories of the 1960s, the Vietnam War, and flower children. A man that never left a country thousands of miles away where bicycles filled the capital. A man who never left those fields where killing occurred. — Jaime Allison Parker

Their journey wasn't complete. If their
relationship had been a poker tournament, unquestionably, they'd not been dealt the best cards. When faced with the same odds, as Tony and Claire, many players would have folded and walked away. They hadn't - they'd continued to play. In the process they'd grown and changed. At one time, they were opponents, strategizing against one another, now they were teammates, yet their tournament wasn't over. It was too early to declare the winner. They both knew there were more cards to be revealed. — Aleatha Romig

Karkaroff intends to flee if the Mark burns."
"Does he?" said Dumbledore softly, as Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies came giggling in from the grounds. "And are you tempted to join him?"
"No," said Snape, his black eyes on Fleur's and Roger's retreating figures. "I am not such a coward."
"No," agreed Dumbledore. You are a braver man by far than Igot Karkaroff. You know, I sometimes think we Sort too soon ... "
He walked away, leaving Snape looking stricken. — J.K. Rowling

And as I walked by the shallow crystal stream I saw unwonted ripples tipped with yellow light, as if those placid waters were drawn on in resistless currents to strange oceans that are not in the world. Silent and sparkling, bright and baleful, those moon-cursed waters hurried I knew not whither; whilst from the embowered banks white lotos-blossoms fluttered one by one in the opiate night-wind and dropped despairingly into the stream, swirling away horribly under the arched, carven bridge, and staring back with the sinister resignation of calm, dead faces. — H.P. Lovecraft

The Tudors") "I walked away thinking, well, if I don't get the job, it doesn't matter - I've kissed Jonathan Rhys Meyers! — Natalie Dormer

South Africa used to seem so far away. Then it came home to me. It began to signify the meaning of white hatred here. That was what the sheets and the suits and the ties covered up, not very well. That was what the cowardly guys calling me names from their speeding truck wanted to happen to me, to all of me: to my people. That was what would happen to me if I walked around the corner into the wrong neighborhood. That was Birmingham. That was Brooklyn. That was Reagan. That was the end of reason. South Africa was how I came to understand that I am not against war; I am against losing the war. — June Jordan

Oh, I'm not worried about him,' returned Bill. 'He's gone. It's not any more complicated than that. Honestly, if I admit it, it's me that I feel bad for.' He walked away from me and looked out toward the south. 'There's nothing like having a parent die to make you realize how alone you are in the world,' he added. — Hope Jahren

At the same time, though, I was beginning to wonder if this was just how it was supposed to be for me, like perhaps I wasn't capable of having that many people in my life at any one time. My mom turned up, Nate walked away, one door opening as another clicked shut. — Sarah Dessen

It was over Ed's shoulder that I really saw Milli for the first time. She was standing there just looking at me. Ed glanced at Milli and then, like a good friend, Ed walked away.
I have a few mental photographs I can see in my mind's eye. One of them is Milli, hands on her hips, looking me up and down as if the bike and I were one lean machine. Her body language, the gleam in her eyes, the tease in her smile, all combined into an erotic femme challenge. Milli set the action into irresistible motion by lifting on eyebrow. — Leslie Feinberg

Asita wasn't hungry this day, however. There were other ways to keep the prana, or life current, going. If he did visit the demon loka, it would take enormous prana to sustain his body. There would be no air for his lungs to breathe among the demons.
He allowed the brilliant Himalayan sun to dry his body as he walked above the tree line. Demons do not literally live on moun-taintops, but Asita had learned special powers that allowed him to penetrate the subtle world. He had to get as far away as possible from human beings to exercise these abilities. The atmosphere was dense around population. In Asita's eyes a quiet village was a seething cauldron of emotions; every person - except only small infants - was immersed in a fog of confusion, a dense blanket of fears, wishes, memories, fantasy, and longing. This fog was so thick that the mind could barely pierce it. — Deepak Chopra

I walked away from this movie thinking how important it is to have a genuine selfless love for your children. You can really mess kids up if you don't have the right kind of love for them. — Jonathan Jackson

Not far away lay the big cannons that had held Ulysses Grant at bay for fifty siege days while the citizens of the town ate rat flesh and clung to their long-cherished beliefs. How many had died in that lost cause? Dr. Tarver wondered. Fifty thousand casualties at Gettysburg alone, and for what? To free the slaves who built this house? To preserve the Union? Had Stonewall Jackson died to create a nation of couch potatoes ignorant of their own history and incapable of simple mathematics? If those brave soldiers in blue and gray had seen what lay in the future, they would have laid down their muskets and walked home to their farms. — Greg Iles

I used to go into every fight not giving a damn if I walked away from it. Dying didn't mean shit. — Kit Rocha

It is not easy to hurl snowballs while holding on to a plastic bag of groceries, so my first few efforts were subpar, missing their mark. The nine maybe ten nine-maybe-ten-year-olds ridiculed me - if I turned to aim at one, four others outflanked me and shot from the sides and the back. I was, in the parlance of an ancient day, cruising for a bruising, and while a more disdainful teenager would have walked away, and a more aggressive teenager wouls have dropped the bag and kicked some major preteen ass, I kept fighting snowball with snowball, laughing as if Boomer and I were playing a school yard game, flinging my orbs with abandon. — Rachel Cohn

If they left you, you didn't need them. If they walked away, they weren't part of your DESTINY. — Joel Osteen

He set off right away, glad of his boots, an old army pair. The leather had outlasted three complete sets of stitching. They were the most comfortable footwear he had ever known. There's no happiness like a good pair of boots, he thought as he walked. Boots, if they were just exactly right for you, changed the way you felt. In fact, there was no happiness like marching alone up a track towards evening in the desert. His limbs tingled. For a while he didn't care if he ever found what he was looking for, if he had to give it all up tomorrow. Nothing mattered but this march through the wide open air of the desert hillside. — Henry Shukman

She forced herself to ... turn and face him. It was easier with the width of the room between them. "I wanted to be able to take this relationship at face value, to enjoy it for what it was ... And I wanted to be sure I could walk away when it was over, completely unscathed. The problem is I can't. When you walked in this morning, all I could think was how much I'd wanted to see you, how much I'd missed you, how unhappy I'd because we were angry at each other."
She stopped, straightened her shoulders. He was grinning at her, rocking back and forth on his heels. In a minute she was sure he'd be whistling. "I'd appreciate it if you'd take that smug look off your face. This isn't -"
"I love you, Julia. — Nora Roberts

Sawyer reached out and twirled a strand of my hair around his finger. "Even if I was wrong to take you without a thought to Beau's feelings, I can't make myself regret it. I've had three amazing years with you, Ash."
I didn't know what to say. I'd had good times too but I did regret choosing the wrong Vincent boy. He gave me one last sad smile then dropped my hair and walked away. — Abbi Glines

I watched her for a long time, memorizing her shoulders, her long-legged gait. This was how girls left. They packed up their suitcases and walked away in high heels. They pretended they weren't crying, that it wasn't the worst day of their lives. That they didn't want their mothers to come running after them, begging their forgiveness, that they wouldn't have gone down on their knees and thanked god if they could stay. — Janet Fitch

Morwen was petrified. Galadir was getting closer. She could feel his breath, cold and accelerated. She imagined for a second like would be kissing him. A hazard too dangerous. And what if she could not stop? If by mistake, kissing him, she had bitten him? What if his blood was come down sweet in her throat? No. Too dangerous. With a quick movement, she stood up and walked away from the Prince. — Chiara Cilli

I'm sorry, I heard him say again. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a sudden blur of movement as he slid out of his seat, left some bills for the breakfast he wouldn't eat, and walked away. And as he did, I thought again of those mornings in the hallway at school, way back in ninth grade. Everything had started in such sharp detail, each aspect pronounced and clear. Obviously, endings were different. Harder to see, full of shapes that could be one thing or another, with all the things that you were once so sure of suddenly not familiar, if they were even recognizable at all. — Sarah Dessen

It was as if everything else in the world had fallen away for Jace but himself and Clary, and he was looking at her with an unconcealed yearning and desire that made Simon feel awkward, as if he had somehow walked in on a private moment. — Cassandra Clare

Day made quick work of drying his body, brushed his teeth, and walked back into the bedroom. God was already in bed, his large form taking up the entire right side of the California king-size mattress. The starch white sheet was draped loosely over his lower half. Day walked over and grabbed the two bottles of water and set them on his nightstand just in case he needed it. He climbed onto the tall bed and was grabbed by strong hands and settled on top of his naked lover.

"Cash," Day moaned.

"Shhh. Just need to hold you," God said quietly as he rested his chin on top of Day's wet hair and squeezed him hard against him, protecting him as if someone might come in the middle of the night and try to snatch him away.

Day rose and fell slightly with God's steady breaths. It was only nine thirty but it wasn't long before Day's exhaustion had him drifting off to sleep. — A.E. Via

Wait, so you do love me?" I asked, hope welling in my heart.
She growled and pounded her fist into a locker, leaving a fist-shaped dent. "Stop it, Justin. Stop it!"
I grabbed her shoulders. "Look at me and tell me you don't love me," I said. "Do it and I'll never bother you again."
"I don't love you," she mumbled.
"Look at me when you say it!"
She turned to me, her eyes hard but dull and faded. "I don't love you."
I let her go. My heart turned to lead, the heavy lump sagging in my chest. "Well, if there are agents out there looking to kill me, I guess it would be a mercy."
I turned to leave. Her hand gripped my shoulder.
"Please listen to me, Justin."
I pushed her hand away but didn't turn to face her. I couldn't let her see the tears welling in my eyes. "Why? What does it matter?"
"It just does. I - I don't want to see you hurt."
I took a deep shuddering breath. "You're not doing a very good job of it." I walked away and left her standing there. — John Corwin

Just as I put my plate on my desk, I noticed a priest waiting in Cookie's office. He was wearing a jacket and jeans, but the collar gave it away every time. We'd apparently forgotten to lock the door, but in all my years as a PI, a priest was new. I felt like I should do the sign of the cross as I walked forward, but I could never remember if it was up-down-left-right or up-down-right-left. I was so bad with directions. — Darynda Jones

A smart woman would have walked away then. She would have lit a match and set fire to the entire clusterfuck that was this situation. But I was never a smart woman, and if you didn't believe me, all you had to do was ask my mother. — A. Zavarelli

I thought, There goes my lord, whom I was born to follow. I have found a King.
And, I said to myself, looking after him as he walked away, I will have him, if I die for it. — Mary Renault

I want you to remember something. Zo. It's important, and it'll make more sense when you have yourself together again. I'm gonna leave here and get another chance at life.You're gonna be a big, famous vamp High Priestess. That means you're gonna live like a gazillion years. I'll find you again. Even if it takes a hundred of those years. I promise you, Zoey Redbird, we'll be together again." Heath pulled her into his arms and kissed her trying through touch to show her that his love was never-ending. When he finally forced himself to let her go, he thought he saw understanding in her haunted, shocked gaze. "I'll love you forever, Zo."
Then Heath turned and walked away from his true love. The air before him opened, curtainlike, and he stepped from one realm to another and disappeared completely. — P.C. Cast

I swore to myself that if I ever got to walk around the room as manager, people would laugh when they saw me coming, and would applaud as I walked away. — Michael Scott

I watched her perform on the Grammys and she totally sucked. The song 'All I Want to Do is Have Some Fun' sucks and when she walked out of that place with all those Grammies I knew I was going to give mine away. I did. If they're giving them away for crap, I don't want one in my place. What an insult to real music and musicians everywhere. — Henry Rollins

You don't belong to her and she doesn't belong to you, but you're both part of each other; if she got up and left now and walked away and you never saw each other again for the rest of your lives, and you lived an ordinary waking life for another fifty years, even so on your deathbed you would know she was part of you. — Iain Banks