Lark Quotes & Sayings

So be my passing! My task accomplished and the long day done, My wages taken, and in my heart Some late lark singing, Let me be gathered in the quiet west, The sundown splendid and serene, Death. — William Ernest Henley

And suddenly she began to sing. Keen, heart-piercing was her song as the song of the lark that rises from the gates of night and pours its voice among the dying stars, seeing the sun behind the walls of the world — J.R.R. Tolkien

At the end of a criminal's life, it's always the small mistake, the coincidence, the lark. The time we got too comfortable, the time we slipped up, the time someone aimed a little to the left.
I've heard Grandad's war stories a thousand times. How they finally got Mo. How Mandy almost got away. How Charlie fell.
Birth to grave, we know it'll be us one day. Our tragedy is that we forget it might be someone else first. — Holly Black

What's this flesh? A little cruded milk
Fantastical puff-paste. Our bodies are weaker than those
Paper prisons boys use to keep flies in; more contemptible,
Since our is to preserve earth-worms. Didst thou ever seen
A lark in a cage? Such is the soul in the body: this world
Is like her little turf of grass, and the heaven o'er our heads
Like her looking-glass, only gives us a miserable knowledge
Of the small compass of our prison. — John Webster

I'm very crafty! One time I made a television set out of a cardboard box - Everybody thought it was a lark! This was the beginning of a love affair with the arts. — Emma Watson

Despite her love of pineapple on pizza, Lark was perfection. I felt like a love starved moth drawn to the light of her smile. — Bijou Hunter

When I was young I was a night owl, I liked doing things while everyone was asleep, I felt untouchable, as you get older you become a lark, you start to worry about being late for things, night owls think they're stealing a march on everything, but the moment they wake up they're already running late, since I got sick I don't like the morning so much, it's, I don't know, too loaded with expectations, and the silence of the night scares me, I prefer the afternoon now, it's less demanding, so I'm watching the sun go down, and I start to wonder, you see, where, where the hell does beauty comes from?, — Andres Neuman

One thing about creative work is that it's never done. In different words, every person we interviewed said that it was equally true that they had worked every minute of their careers, and that they had never worked a day in all their lives. They experienced even the most focused immersion in extremely difficult tasks as a lark, an exhilarating and playful adventure. — Todd Henry

The owl goes not into the nest of the lark. — Victor Hugo

I missed him with an intensity that made his absence painful and his return a celebration. In the dark or the light, in the great hall or in our bedchamber, he was gruff but gentle, arrogant yet attentive, and he made love with a ferocity and focus that made it impossible not to bend myself to his will, even as I found ways to challenge and defy him. — Amy Harmon

I can't believe you can create such beauty."
"I can't believe I'm finally looking at my beauty. You can't see it, Lark. I know you can't. Maybe it's a girl thing or your shitty family or you do see it and are just fishing for compliments, but you are too beautiful to get right on paper. No matter how much I try," I said, cupping her face, "I can't make my art look nearly as perfect as you."
"Shit," she whispered. "Did you just think that up because it was fucking brilliant?"
Before I could answer, little Lark stepped up as far as she could on her tippy toes, pulled me down to her, and kissed me hard and deep. The girl claimed my breath like she'd already claimed my heart. No way was I imagining all of her wonderful qualities. I wasn't that damn creative. — Bijou Hunter

Say you're beautiful," I whispered, stroking her.
"I'm beautiful."
"Good," I murmured, kissing her jaw then moving south. "Say it again. — Bijou Hunter

You glow, Lark." His hand climbed back up again and swept over my unbound hair. I swallowed, suddenly close to tears. Then why does no one see me? "I see you," he said. — Amy Harmon

he knew, but Gwyneira always drove him to desperation. "Of course I didn't offer him anything. I appealed to his reason and sense of honor. However, these qualities don't seem to hold much weight for him." Terence turned away, visibly ashamed. — Sarah Lark

In the neighborhood she was called the Lark. People like figurative names and were happy to give a nickname to this child, no larger than a bird, trembling, frightened, and shivering, first to wake every morning in the house and the village, always in the street or in the fields before dawn. Except that the poor lark never sang. — Victor Hugo

In 1849 he had forty-six chieftains sign a treaty in which they declared themselves subjects of the queen. The Crown has had right of preemption for land sales ever since. — Sarah Lark

Toddlers were running the place like some miniature version of Lord of the Flies, complete with weapons made from blocks and tinker toys. One of them came at me, charging my knees and the pink pod that held my precious baby. I screamed and made a run for the front door, flip-flops sticking to squelchy dried puddles of juice. I let out a relieved sigh when we were outside breathing fresh air. The near-deafening roar of the highway was a lark song compared to the screeching we'd just escaped. — Piper Vaughn

I must thank you for it all. I might not have gone but for you, and so have missed the finest study I ever came across: a study in scarlet, eh? Why shouldn't we use a little art jargon. There's the scarlet thread of murder running through the colourless skein of life, and our duty is to unravel it, and isolate it, and expose every inch of it. And now for lunch, and then for Norman Neruda. Her attack and her bowing are splendid. What's that little thing of Chopin's she plays so magnificently: Tra-la-la-lira-lira-lay. Leaning back in the cab, this amateur bloodhound carolled away like a lark while I meditated upon the many-sidedness of the human mind. — Arthur Conan Doyle

IN APRIL Again the woods are odorous, the lark Lifts on upsoaring wings the heaven gray That hung above the tree-tops, veiled and dark, Where branches bare disclosed the empty day. After long rainy afternoons an hour Comes with its shafts of golden light and flings Them at the windows in a radiant shower, And rain drops beat the panes like timorous wings. Then all is still. The stones are crooned to sleep By the soft sound of rain that slowly dies; And cradled in the branches, hidden deep In each bright bud, a slumbering silence lies. — Rainer Maria Rilke

Sandry: "There has to be something we can do."
Lark: "We're mages. We do what we can, but some problems are too big to fix."
Sandry: "Then I wish I weren't a mage. What good is magic, if you can't use it to help people. — Tamora Pierce

It occurred to her, sadly, and not for the first time, that as you grew older you became busier, and time went faster and faster, the months pushing each other rudely out of the way, and the years slipping off the calendar and into the past. Once, there had been time. Time to stand, or sit, and just look at daffodils. Or to abandon housekeeping, on the spur of the moment, walk out of the back door and up the hill, into the lark-song emptiness of a summer morning. — Rosamunde Pilcher

Seducing highborn ladies, and raping peasant girls was a lark, but when Piers had suggested murder, he had thought him simply struggling with the frustration of losing for the first time in his life. — Bertrice Small

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace, Where never the lark, nor even eagle flew- And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod The high, untrespassed sanctity of space, Put out my hand and touched the face of God. — Dizzy Gillespie

Looking back over a decade one sees the ideal of a university become a myth, a vision, a meadow lark among the smoke stacks. Yet perhaps it is there at Princeton, only more elusive than under the skies of the Prussian Rhineland or Oxfordshire; or perhaps some men come upon it suddenly and possess it, while others wander forever outside. Even these seek in vain through middle age for any corner of the republic that preserves so much of what is fair, gracious, charming and honorable in American life. — F Scott Fitzgerald

We rise with the lark and go to bed with the lamb. — Nicholas Breton

All the spring may be hidden in the single bud, and the low ground nest of the lark may hold the joy that is to herald the feet of many rose-red dawns. — Oscar Wilde

Now that I know I'm an Upholder, an Abstainer, a Marathoner, a Finisher, and a Lark, and have spent a lot of time thinking about what is, and isn't, important to me, I'm much better able to shape my habits. — Gretchen Rubin

When you walk through the storm, hold your head high And don't be afraid of the dark! At the end of the storm is a golden sky And the sweet song of the lark. Walk on through the wind Walk on through the rain Though your dreams be tossed & blown Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart And you'll never walk alone! — Douglas Adams

In the downhill of life, when I find I'm declining, May my lot no less fortunate be Than a snug elbow-chair can afford for reclining, And a cot that o'erlooks the wide sea; With an ambling pad-pony to pace o'er the lawn, While I carol away idle sorrow, And blithe as the lark that each day hails the dawn, Look forward with hope for to-morrow. — John Churton Collins

I heard you're having dinner with Lark," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "Hurry up and marry her, so we can double date and annoy Vaughn."
"Can't you double date with Tawny and Judd?"
Cooper and Farah laughed. "Yeah, right," they said in unison, causing me to wonder if their brains had merged from too much sex.
"If I have my way, Lark will be mine."
"He's stalking her," Cooper told Farah. "Draws pictures of her naked too."
Farah laughed and pated my cheek. "Romantic."
"Clearly, I've fucked her brains out," Cooper said and she gave him the pissed wife look.
Sighing, he lowered his gaze and mumbled, "Yes, ma'am. — Bijou Hunter

Lark did not know how her parents would behave in public. They never came to anything, even teacher conferences. They had basically skipped Lark's life. She didn't mind. She had made her own. — Caroline B. Cooney

And now the herald lark Left his ground-nest, high tow'ring to descry The morn's approach, and greet her with his song. — John Milton

I have always been a night owl rather than a lark. — Sara Sheridan

Home"

It would take forever to get there
but I would know it anywhere:

My white horse grazing in my blossomy field.
Its soft nostrils. The petals
falling from the trees into the stream.

The festival would be about to begin
in the dusky village in the distance. The doe
frozen at the edge of the grove:

She leaps. She vanishes. My face -
She has taken it. And my name -

(Although the plaintive lark in the tall
grass continues to say and to say it.)

Yes. This is the place.
Where my shining treasure has been waiting.
Where my shadow washes itself in my fountain.

A few graves among the roses. Some moss
on those. An ancient

bell in a steeple down the road
making no sound at all
as the monk pulls and pulls on the rope. — Laura Kasischke

He's rigged a tiny cassette player with a small set of foam earphones to listen to demo tapes and rough mixes. Occasionally he'll hand the device to Mindy, wanting her opinion, and each time, the experience of music pouring directly against her eardrums - hers alone - is a shock that makes her eyes well up; the privacy of it, the way it transforms her surroundings into a golden montage, as if she were looking back on this lark in Africa with Lou from some distant future. — Jennifer Egan

I had a teacher senior year in high school. He was a theater teacher, and he basically was a little bit like 'High School Musical.' He kind of encouraged the jocks to get involved with the plays. I did it as kind of a senior year lark. — D. B. Sweeney

As I once told your mother, I do not accept trying. Trying is not good enough. Change. You can. — Jane Lark

Cosette was not very timid by nature. There flowed in her veins some of the blood of the bohemian and the adventuress who runs barefoot. It will be remembered that she was more of a lark than a dove. There was a foundation of wildness and bravery in her — Victor Hugo

The moment I saw the red mark across Lark's face, a little part of my humanity died. While she entered the house and tried to explain, I heard only part of her words. The ones about who hurt her and who needed to bleed. — Bijou Hunter

I sing like a lark. — Layne Staley

Myriads of daisies have shone forth in flower Near the lark's nest, and in their natural hour Have passed away; less happy than the one That by the unwilling ploughshare died to prove The tender charm of poetry and love. — William Wordsworth

Smokey and The Bandit was just a lark. All we did was run up and down those Georgia roads wrecking cars and having the time of our life. — Jerry Reed

The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build, Her humble nest, lies silent in the field. — Edmund Waller

We did get to keep a few choice items. I kept a few pairs of slacks and power suits that stood out. I still have a few outstanding pieces from 'Saved by the Bell' simply because they were from 'Saved by the Bell.' They're vaulted in my storage space. — Lark Voorhies

Heaven above was blue, and earth beneath was green; the river glistened like a path of diamonds in the sun; the birds poured forth their songs from the shady trees; the lark soared high above the waving corn; and the deep buzz of insects filled the air. — Charles Dickens

I have no worries myself, nor do I exude or possess within my living stratus any reason why someone should worry [on] my behalf. — Lark Voorhies

Lark Barnes wasn't much older than me, yet she was married and pregnant with twins. On bed rest for the last few months, she was trapped in her updated Craftsman-style house. Thanks to Bailey, my new job involved caring for Lark during the day.
Petite with spiky dark hair, Lark needed the help too. She was all belly these days. In fact when I arrived at the house that morning, I found her stuck in bed.
"I'm beached!" she cried as I entered the bedroom.
After a little effort, I tugged her out of the bed and helped her into the bathroom. — Bijou Hunter

Thinking is to man what flying is to birds. Don't follow the example of a chicken when you could be a lark. — Albert Einstein

Let us love. Let our lives be a perpetual song of love for God, first of all, and for all human beings who suffer, love, and mourn. Let deep joy live in us. Let us be like the lark, enemy of the night, who always announces the dawn and awakens in each creature the love of light and life. Let us awaken others to the spiritual life. — Elizabeth LeSeur

Daja: "He and Rosethorn work together? They hate each other."
Lark: "I didn't say they liked it.
- Daja and Lark referring to Rosethorn and Crane's cooperation on finding the cures for new diseases — Tamora Pierce

Eyes are lode-stars; and your tongue's sweet air More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear, When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear. Sickness is catching: O, were favour so, Yours would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go; My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye, My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody. Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated, The rest I'd give to be to you translated. O, teach me how you look, and with what art You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart. Hermia I frown upon him, yet he loves me still. Helena O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill! Hermia I give him curses, yet he gives me love. Helena O that my prayers could such affection move! Hermia — William Shakespeare

Earlier, I'd found Lark in the gym, telling her, "I'm giving Cyclops a bath."
Her response: "Your funeral. — Kresley Cole

Did God mind that dreadful singing, he who made the nightingale and the lark? Probably not. Probably it was the soul of Mrs Crabtree he was listening to, the worshipping song of her heart, and that rang true as a bell. — Penelope Wilcock

When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark,
And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark:
But, when the tide rises and sharks are around,
His voice has a timid and tremulous sound. — Lewis Carroll

What a lark! What a plunge! — Virginia Woolf

Triumphant hours are the Lark's
Who circles skywards from his home each day:
World's early riser, with bubbling golden song,
Towards the firmament, guardian of April's gate. — Dafydd Ap Gwilym

Early Summer, loveliest season,
The world is being colored in.
While daylight lasts on the horizon,
Sudden, throaty blackbirds sing.

The dusty-colored cuckoo cuckoos.
"Welcome, summer" is what he says.
Winter's unimaginable.
The wood's a wickerwork of boughs.

Summer means the river's shallow,
Thirsty horses nose the pools.
Long heather spreads out on bog pillows.
White bog cotton droops in bloom.

Swallows swerve and flicker up.
Music starts behind the mountain.
There's moss and a lush growth underfoot.
Spongy marshland glugs and stutters.

Bog banks shine like ravens' wings.
The cuckoo keeps on calling welcome.
The speckled fish jumps; and the strong
Swift warrior is up and running.

A little, jumpy, chirpy fellow
Hits the highest note there is;
The lark sings out his clear tidings.
Summer, shimmer, perfect days. — Marie Heaney

Little Willie, full of glee,
Put radium in grandma's tea.
Now he thinks it quite a lark
To see her shining in the dark. — Harry Graham

In college, I took an acting class as a lark. I was surprised by how much it interested me. It seemed like something I could do my whole life and always try to get better at. — Ebon Moss-Bachrach

'Banshee' was kind of a lark. I was getting paid pretty well to write movies no one was making - and so I decided to try my hand at TV and get paid much less to actually get something produced. — Jonathan Tropper

Men don't want candy that's been unwrapped. Maybe for a lark, but not when it comes to marriage. It may still be perfectly clean, but if it's unwrapped, they don't know where it's been. — Laura Moriarty

I shall eat anyone who tries to steal my singing, springing lark! — Jacob Grimm

Out of my deeper heart a bird rose and flew skywards.
Higher and higher did it rise, yet larger and larger did it grow.
At first it was but like a swallow, then a lark, then an eagle, then as vast as a spring cloud, and then it filled the starry heavens.
Out of my heart a bird flew skywards. And it waxed larger as it flew. Yet it left not my heart. — Khalil Gibran

Kia ora meant hello. Tana was man, wahine woman. She learned that you did not say "thank you" but showed your gratitude through actions and that the Maori did not shake hands in greeting but rubbed noses instead. This ritual was called hongi — Sarah Lark

I said once that you are like ice. And you are. Silver and perfect . . . glistening. And hard. You're so hard, Lark. I want you to be soft sometimes. I need you to let me in. — Amy Harmon

Flamingo necks, peacock brains, pike livers, lark tongues, sow's udders, elephant trunks and ears extravagantly frilled with parsley. — Kate Quinn

Split the Lark - and you'll find the Music, Bulb after Bulb, in Silver rolled. — Emily Dickinson

Teach me, O lark! with thee to greatly rise, to exalt my soul and lift it to the skies. — Edmund Burke

Raising people is not some lark. It's serious work with serious repercussions. It's air-traffic control. You can't step out for a minute; you can barely pause to scratch your ankle. — Kelly Corrigan

...For can you think how it would be, to never, never hear a meadow lark sing again...? — Bess Streeter Aldrich

She trekked back across the meadow and down through the trees in possession of the oldest secret known to man. She sat on the mooring stone and surrendered immediately to the down of night. She hadn't slept long before she suddenly jolted awake. Thought she had heard the sweet call of a lark ascending. Unaware that it was actually the sound of her soul awakening. — Sarah Winman

The crow signs as sweetly as the lark when no one's paying attention to them, and I think that if the nightingale sang during the day while all the geese were cackling, people would think it sounded no better than a wren. So many things are made perfect and as they should be by good timing! But quiet. Look how the moon won't be awakened. It must be sleeping with [Endymion — William Shakespeare

Suicide in the trenches:
I knew a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.
In winter trenches, cowed and glum
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.
* * * * *
You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go. — Siegfried Sassoon

When I entered, she sat up and focused on the bag in my hand. "The chick at the store said it works better in the morning, but it might work tonight. I bought a few extra tests, just in case. Do you need to pee?"
Lark stared at me then burst into laughter. "A few weeks into our relationship and we're talking about peeing. Awesome. — Bijou Hunter

Do you know one reason my parents have stayed married so long?" I asked and Lark shook her head. "They're a team. If one has a problem, they both have a problem. No secrets, no holding back. They face everything together. — Bijou Hunter

buttons, and turns out his toes.' [later editions continued as follows When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark, And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark, But, when the tide rises and sharks are around, His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.] 'That's different from what — Lewis Carroll

We're alike, Jess would tell himself, me and Miss Edmunds ... We don't belong at Lark Creek, Julia and me. — Katherine Paterson

In nature everything is valuable, everything has its place. The rose, the daisy, the lark, the squirrel, each is different but beautiful. Each has its own expression. Each flower its' own fragrance. Each bird its' own song. So you too have your own unique melody. — Diane Dreher

Come live with me and be my love
And we will all the pleasures prove
Of a marriage conducted with economy
In the Twentieth Century Anno Donomy.
We'll live in a dear little walk-up flat
With practically room to swing a cat
And a potted cactus to give it hauteur
And a bathtub equipped with dark brown water.
We'll eat, without undue discouragement,
Foods low in cost but high in nouragement
And quaff with pleasure, while chatting wittily,
The peculiar wine of Little Italy.
We'll remind each other it's smart to be thrifty
And buy our clothes for something-fifty.
We'll bus for miles on holidays
For seas at depressing matinees,
And every Sunday we'll have a lark
And take a walk in Central Park.
And one of these days not too remote
You'll probably up and cut my throat. — Ogden Nash

Jerry and I always felt that the character was enjoying himself. He was having fun: he wasn't taking himself seriously. It was always a lark for him, as you can see in my early drawings. — Joe Shuster

Like the lark that soars in the air, first singing, then silent, content with the last sweetness that satiates it, such seemed to me that image, the imprint of the Eternal Pleasure. — Dante Alighieri

There came a time near dawn on the eve of spring, and Luthien danced upon a green hill; and suddenly she began to sing. Keen, heart-piercing was her song as the song of the lark that rises from the gates of night and pours its voice among the dying stars, seeing the sun behind the walls of the world; and the song of Luthien released the bonds of winter, and the frozen waters spoke, and flowers sprang from the cold earth where he feet had passed. Then the spell of silence fell from Beren, and he called to her, crying Tinuviel; and the woods echoed the name. — J.R.R. Tolkien

Dost thou love hawking? Thou hast hawks will soar Above the morning lark. — William Shakespeare

I walk where once the grass was green And mourn the lark that sings no more What bird could sing whose eyes have seen Broken blossoms on the field of war? — Tom Springfield

I vaguely remember having a waist," Lark said, waddling into the room. "I could see my feet too. They weren't great feet, but I liked looking at them."
"You'll see them soon then you won't appreciate it. All the stuff that bothers you now will become a faint memory once you have the babies."
"How do you know?" she said, teasing me. "You read that in a book? I get enough know-it-all crap from Raven who watched a TV show and is therefore an expert."
I brought her a glass of low fat milk and English muffins with low fat cream. Lark frowned at the food then smiled up at me. "If I sound bitchy, blame the hormones. You didn't know me before I was preggers, but I was a saint."
Grinning, I handed her the remote and placed a pillow under her feet. — Bijou Hunter

Dumb luck brought on the move from business to acting. I had moved to New York when I was 23, in the year 2000. On a lark, I went to audition for a soap opera. I thought, 'Hey, this will be a really fun story to tell my grandkids one day, that I auditioned for a soap!' — Teddy Sears

The embrace of present and past time, in which English antiquarianism becomes a form of alchemy, engenders a strange timelessness. It is as if the little bird which flew through the Anglo-Saxon banqueting hall, in Bede's Historia Ecclesiastica Gentis Anglorum, gained the outer air and became the lark ascending in Vaughan Williams's orchestral setting. The unbroken chain is that of English music itself. — Peter Ackroyd

You not know how to — Sarah Lark

Angry at his parents and all grown-ups who thought that school life was a lark, a good time, the best years of your life with a few test and quizzes thrown in to keep you on your toes. Bullshit. There was nothing good about it. Tests were daily battles in the larger war of school. School meant rules and orders and commands. To say nothing of homework. — Robert Cormier

The horse and the cow, the rabbit and the cat, the deer and the hare, the pheasant and the lark, please us better as friends than as meat. — Elisee Reclus

You pakeha," she murmured, "all your streets must be straight and even. You tear them from the earth without hearing its groans. And yet the winding, rocky ways are the shorter ones if you take them in peace. — Sarah Lark

When I was a child and the snow fell, my mother always rushed to the kitchen and made snow ice cream and divinity fudge-egg whites, sugar and pecans, mostly. It was a lark then and I always associate divinity fudge with snowstorms. — Eudora Welty

I have had more than half a century of such happiness. A great deal of worry and sorrow, too, but never a worry or a sorrow that was not offset by a purple iris, a lark, a bluebird, or a dewy morning glory. — Mary McLeod Bethune

From the day I met her at the wedding rehearsal, I couldn't stop thinking of her beautiful face. I was forever drawing her, sketching her, and even tattooing her. How many people in Ellsberg were walking around with tattoos of Lark's face? Whenever a client didn't bring a specific image in and a woman's face was involved, I used Lark's. Hell, I hadn't even noticed this fact until two happy clients showed off their tattoos and I realized the pinup girl and fairy princess had the same face. — Bijou Hunter

Her name was Lark and she was my muse. — Bijou Hunter

Housework is a breeze. Cooking is a pleasant diversion. Putting up a retaining wall is a lark. But teaching is like climbing a mountain. — Fawn M. Brodie

Occasionally, he left the compound. I'd figured he must be out hunting, at least some of the time, but he hadn't returned with a new icon, and I'd heard nothing on Arcana Radio. Plus, Lark's laminated player list - the little twit actually did keep it on the fridge door - had had no updates since the Star.

Well, other than her scratching my title out and scribbling in "The Unclean One." Har. — Kresley Cole

Myers was not a neighborhood to visit on a lark.
Hi reached over and hit the door locks.
"Next right," Shelton said. Then, "There, on the left. Bates Pawn-and-Trade."
"Are we one hundred percent sure about exiting the vehicle?" Hi's voice was a bit high. "It might not be here when we get back."
"I'll park right in front." Ben also sounded tense.
"We'll be fine," I said. "In and out."
"That's what she said," Hi mumbled, hauling himself from the car. — Kathy Reichs

He didn't know if that was really true or not, but he discovered something which was tremendously liberating: he didn't care. He was very tired of thinking and thinking and still not knowing. He was also tired of being frightened, like a man who has entered a cave on a lark and now begins to suspect he is lost. Stop thinking about it, then. That's the solution. — Stephen King

A friend of my mom's was a casting director so, really as kind of a lark, I had a couple of acting jobs that had just enough exposure to give me the option to continue if I wanted to. I followed through with it. — Ben Affleck