Me Closer Nine Quotes & Sayings

The poet Rumi said that "the price of kissing is your life." He was right, and he was offering us a carrot. What he did not mention is the stick: that the price of not kissing is your miserable unkissed life. — Anne Benvenuti

God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do. — Regina Brett

Decker grinned, taking the cup and then blowing over it. "What';; you give me for my silence?"

Austin flipped him off. "I won't kick your ass."

"You can try , old man."

"You're getting closer to the big number, too."

Decker grinned. "I'm twenty-nine. You're thirty-eight. Those are two different big numbers, bro. Just saying."

"Fuck you."

"No thanks. I prefer my bedmates with a little less chest hair. — Carrie Ann Ryan

To his surprise he felt a moment of regret, of sadness that his quest for his mother and father would soon be over. As long as he searched for them he was prepared to be hungry and ill, but now that the search had ended he felt saddened by the memory of all he had been through, and of how much he had changed. He was closer now to the ruined battlefields and this fly-infested truck, to the nine sweet potatoes in the sack below the driver's seat, even in a sense to the detention center, than he would ever be again to his house in Amherst Avenue. — J.G. Ballard

Once upon a time, the great big world outside Bridgeton had seemed like Xanadu - miles of golden road lined with smiling people, waiting to usher me through hundreds of open doors. There was nothing out there but bright light and possibilities. There were big dreams of other places, other people, even other boys.
There had even, for two hours in April, been somebody else.
He was a glimpse of the future, where I would live and breath and love far, far away from this place. A future where behind a closed door, on Saturday mornings, a boy I hadn't met yet would wrap an arm around my waist and exhale damp heat into the curve of my neck. Where we would keep our eyes closed, pull the covers closer, burrow down and deeper to escape the nine-o'clock sunshine, and the sound of heavy breath echoing along the rusted steel confines of a pickup truck would be nothing but a memory. — Kat Rosenfield

The best you can do as a parent is to expose your children to a wide range of religions. Rather than trying to "program them" to dislike religion, give them the tools to analyze it themselves. With the conceptual tools of critical thinking and skepticism, and adequate exposure to many religions, children are very likely eventually to conclude that all religion is crazy. — Darrel Ray

Every choice you make today is the choice you're going to live with. So, make the best choices. — Abdulazeez Henry Musa

The fear of death is presumably a survival instinct, Tin Win later thought. It must be an essential part of us, of every living creature. At the same time, we must transcend it to take our leave in peace. He found this an irresolvable contradiction. — Jan-Philipp Sendker

Look, you do everything in stages, right? I don't think everything happens at once. There are so many layers we are constantly chipping away at, down and down and down, closer and closer to what would be the body. I think what happened with cancer, was that I woke up out of nine hours of surgery and I was body. I was just body. — Eve Ensler

Did you ever notice, when you are sitting at a red light, that when the person in front of you pulls up a couple of inches, you are compelled to move up too? Do we really think we are making progress toward our destination? "Whew, I thought we would be late, but now that I am nine inches closer, I can stop for coffee and a danish!" — Jerry Seinfeld

My eyes are not worthy to look upon your face, yet they will not rest until they see you again. — Cara Lynn Shultz

You can follow the action, which gets you good pictures. You can follow your instincts, which will probably get you in trouble. Or, you can follow the money, which nine times out of ten will get you closer to the truth. — Jack Nicholson

Inspiration, move me brightly, light the song with sense and color, hold away despair — Robert Hunter

Cole,do you feel anything for me?" I don't know what made me ask this, except that Jack had asked him the night of the Tunnels.It obviously surprised him.
He backed up. "What?"
I inched forward,not quite sure I was going with this. "Do you feel ... something for me?"
He was quiet,still as a statue, so I moved even closer.
"Don't,Nik." His gaze dropped to the ground.
"If you feel anything, please leave me alone.I don't know why I survived.I don't have your answer. Shadowing me will get you nothing."
Then he did something unexpected. He backed down, and as he turned around to his motorcycle,he shook his head and mumbled, "What have you done to me?"
"I don't know," I said. "But you have ninety-nine years to figure it out."
He kicked it on and revved the engine, and at the sound,he found his cocky smirk again. "That's a long time, Nik. Jack is gone,and I'm here.Let's see who gives up first. — Brodi Ashton

But there is a beauty every girl has - a
gift from God, as pure as the sunlight,
and as sacred as life. It is a beauty that all men love, a virtue that wins all men's souls. That beauty is chastity. Chastity without skin beauty may enkindle the soul; skin beauty without chastity can kindle only the eye. Chastity enshrined in the mold of true womanhood will hold true love
eternally. — David O. McKay

If you put music into your Vine, and it's really jumpy, just do it over again. — Maisie Williams

I encourage you to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, dedicated to God and pleasing to him. This kind of worship is appropriate for you. — Anonymous

Morpheus's gaze flashes to mine, then back to the chess piece wrapped in his magic. "Stop crying," his quirky voice scolds. "Queens don't cry. I taught you better than that."
I bite my quivering lip, and tiny Alice strokes the caterpillar's face. "But you're crying ... "
Morpheus lowers a wing and shades his cheek along with the transparent glimmer of his jeweled markings. "Well" - his shrill voice cracks slightly - "contrary to my preferences for lace and velvet, I'm not the queen. So I can cry all I like. — A.G. Howard

Maybe she'd always wished to be beautiful and didn't quite dare to, because she could tell that people didn't say she was and more attention was given to other women, but she still had a frail hope that there'd been a mistake and she was after all. — Mona Simpson

Wrath held her even closer, right to his beating chest. ". . . a son?"
"Yes. A son."
All of a sudden, he felt the biggest, widest, happiest grin hit his face, the g*dd*mn thing stretching his cheeks until they hurt, making his eyes water from the strain, pulling at his temples until they burned.
And the joy wasn't just on his puss.
A flush so great it burned him alive flooded through his body, cleansing him in places he didn't know were dirty, washing out cobwebs that had crept into his corners, making him feel alive in a way he hadn't been in a very, very long time.
Before he knew what he was doing, he burst to his feet with Beth in his arms, leaned back, and hollered at the top of his lungs, with more pride than his six-foot-nine frame could hold.
"A soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooon! I'm having a soooooooooooooooooooooooon!"

-Wrath & Beth — J.R. Ward

Fraj-ile, I say, pronouncing it the way she does - as if it might be a popular tourist destination in the Pacific, beautiful Fraj Isle, with its white sandy beaches and shark-filled coves. — Dan Chaon

The force behind the movement of time is a mourning that will not be comforted. — Marilynne Robinson

He moved on from Anatole France to the eighteenth-century philosophers, though not to Rousseau. Perhaps this was because one side of him - the side easily moved by passion - was too close to Rousseau. Instead, he approached the author of 'Candide', who was closer to another side of him - the cool and richly intellectual side.
At twenty-nine, life no longer held any brightness for him, but Voltaire supplied him with man-made wings.
Spreading these man-made wings, he soared with ease into the sky. The higher he flew, the farther below him sank the joys and sorrows of a life bathed in the light of intellect. Dropping ironies and smiles upon the shabby towns below, he climbed through the open sky, straight for the sun - as if he had forgotten about that ancient Greek who plunged to his death in the ocean when his man-made wings were singed by the sun. — Ryunosuke Akutagawa