Mr Crouch Quotes & Sayings

You think man can destroy the planet? What intoxicating vanity. Earth has survived everything in its time. It will certainly survive us. To the earth ... a million years is nothing. This planet lives and breathes on a much vaster scale. We can't imagine its slow and powerful rhythms, and we haven't got the humility to try. We've been residents here for the blink of an eye. If we're gone tomorrow, the earth will not miss us. Michael Crichton — Blake Crouch

I've always known, on a purely intellectual level, that our separateness and isolation are an illusion. We're all made of the same thing - the blown-out pieces of matter formed in the fires of dead stars. — Blake Crouch

Don't you see?" she says. "I want your life to be better than mine. That's all any parent wants. — Katie Crouch

He curled up, twitching and spasming, the pain stormtrooping through his entire body in agonizing, dizzying, pounding waves. He vomited, but it wasn't the contents of his stomach. It was his stomach, hanging inside-out from a slimy loop of esophagus, spilling out the precious blood he'd been digesting.
Even with everything going on, the smell of blood activated his biting reflex, and he chomped down on his own regurgitated organs, screaming as he chewed. — Blake Crouch

Enjoying it? I don't reckon he'd come home if Dad didn't make him. He's obsessed. Just don't get him on the subject of his boss. According to Mr. Crouch ... as I was saying to Mr. Crouch ... Mr. Crouch is of the opinion ... Mr. Crouch was telling me ... They'll be announcing their engagement any day now. — J.K. Rowling

I SHALL WIN!" She exclaimed. "You'll see! When the smoke of battle clears away I shall be a rainbow again
and, undying name
an altar of fire that you have tried to dash to hell. I shall weave a rose wreath and hang it round your neck. You will call it a yoke of bondage and curse it
no matter. You are afraid of the light I give you. You crouch in the darkness. Come, take my hand, I will lead you." And her valediction, intimating in its restraint whole words of love and grief and passionate regret, was, simply, Miriam. — T.C. Boyle

Louis Armstrong, who learned to be in exquisite dress, came from the bottom, and he's not a trash can. — Stanley Crouch

I have good intentions, but ... But what? But all the time I fail. I hurt the ones I love. — Blake Crouch

The box isn't all that different from life. If you go in with fear, fear is what you'll find. — Blake Crouch

I'm your son!" he screamed up at Crouch. "I'm your son!" "You are no son of mine!" bellowed Mr. Crouch, his eyes bulging suddenly. "I have no son! — J.K. Rowling

People think that because people do religious stuff, that's all we're supposed to do. But with God's help, everything that He wants me to accomplish, I'm going to do it. It's all about pacing. — Andrae Crouch

This is hell - the absolute loss borne from all those slivers of perfection that passed unnoticed, unrelished. In true dark, there is no gauging of time. — Blake Crouch

I'm running a battery of tests, but everything appears to have come through fully preserved. — Blake Crouch

As you know from reading many of these Negro writers, we don't deal too much with the discussion of democracy and what it means and how improvisation fits in all that. — Stanley Crouch

Final Disposition

Others divided closets full of mother's things.
From the earth, I took her poppies.
I wanted those fandango folds
of red and black chiffon she doted on,
loving the wild and Moorish music of them,
coating her tongue with the thin skin
of their crimson petals.

Snapping her fingers, flamenco dancer,
she'd mock the clack of castanets
in answer to their gypsy cadence.
She would crouch toward the flounce of flowers,
twirl, stamp her foot, then kick it out
as if to lift the ruffles, scarlet
along the hemline of her yard.

And so, I dug up, soil and all,
the thistle-toothed and gray-green clumps
of leaves, the testicle seedpods and hairy stems
both out of season, to transplant them in my less-exotic garden. There, they bloom
her blood's abandon, year after year,
roots holding, their poppy heads nodding
a carefree, opium-ecstatic, possibly forever sleep. — Jane Glazer

There's something excruciating about this part. Strangers, or, even worse, friends, crouch at the children's knees, touching them, hugging them, stressed faces one after another pressing into theirs, faces like caricatures. There is the awkwardness of people feeling the need to say something when there is nothing to say. Nothing. — A.M. Homes

Everybody has to be reminded that there's another way to be. Another more mysterious, unpredictable way to be that's not necessarily based upon contrivances. — Stanley Crouch

I want to say to all you Scribes, Pharisees, heresy hunters, all of you that are going around pickin' little bits of doctrinal error out of everybody's eyes and dividin' the Body of Christ ... get out of God's way, stop blockin' God's bridges, or God's goin' to shoot you if I don't ... let Him sort out all this doctrinal doodoo! ... I refuse to argue any longer with any of you out there! Don't even call me if you want to argue ... Get out of my life! I don't want to talk to you ... I don't want to see your ugly face! — Paul Crouch

Pope smiled. "You're thinking all wrong, boy. There's no such thing as law or government inside this room. It's just you and me. I am the one and only authority in your little world, whose borders are these walls. I could kill you right now if I wanted to. — Blake Crouch

A villager in Ca Lu said it to me, before I removed his intestines with a bayonet." "Was he talking about himself?" Donaldson asked. "Or you?" "You tell me. Did you feel alive when you killed your father, Donaldson?" Donaldson nodded. "And when you killed the owner of the Pinto?" Mr. K continued. "Goddamn piece of crap car. I wish I could kill that guy again." "How about someone else in his place?" Donaldson squinted at Mr. K. "What do you mean?" Another half smile. "The man in my trunk. If I gave you the chance to kill him, would you? — Blake Crouch

218.The same principle probably explains why dogs, when feeling affectionate, like rubbing against their masters and being rubbed or patted by them, for from the nursing of their puppies, contact with a beloved object has become firmly associated in their minds with the emotion of love. The feeling of affection of a dog towards his master is combined with a strong sense of submission, which is akin to fear. Hence dogs not only lower their bodies and crouch a little as they approach their masters, but sometimes throw themselves on the ground with their bellies upwards. — Charles Darwin

You know, house-elves get a very raw deal!" said Hermione indignantly. "It's slavery, that's what it is! That Mr. Crouch made her go up to the top of the stadium, and she was terrified, and he's got her bewitched so she can't even run when they start trampling tents! Why doesn't anyone do something about it?" "Well, the elves are happy, aren't they?" Ron said. "You heard old Winky back at the match . . . 'House-elves is not supposed to have fun' . . . that's what she likes, being bossed around. . . ." "It's people like you, Ron," Hermione began hotly, "who prop up rotten and unjust systems, just because they're too lazy to - — J.K. Rowling

I'm sure that's just what Mr. Worthington was thinking as Luther Kite butchered him. 'Boy, I'm glad I have this faith.'" — Blake Crouch

Oh and I've been wanting a word with you too, Arthur," said Mr. Crouch, his sharp eyes falling upon Mr. Weasley. "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets." Mr. Weasley heaved a deep sigh. "I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artifact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?" "I doubt it," said Mr. Crouch, accepting a cup from Percy. "He's desperate to export here. — J.K. Rowling

We're a part of something here, Mr. Burke. Something that matters. All of us." "Here's the thing, Marcus, and I don't want you to ever forget it. Nobody fucking asked me or anyone in that valley if we wanted to be a part of this. — Blake Crouch

The grand irony, however, is that Southern segregation was not brought to an end, nor redneck violence dramatically reduced, by violence. — Stanley Crouch

As long as God gives me the strength to still minister and create, I'll do it. — Andrae Crouch

Theatre can be so patronising. So often, it's just proselytising for the theatre. — Tim Crouch

Actually, they're just as real as the one you and I are experiencing at this moment. — Blake Crouch

When you were a child, I didn't tell you about the evil in the world, all that lay in wait. — Blake Crouch

We were all alive, and we loved and hated and lived brilliant, messy existences. The air is thick with our wanting. — Katie Crouch

Until that morning when we all went to the riverbank, I still believed Mother would take Leah, not me. Leah who, even in her malarial stupor, rushed forward to crouch with the battery in the canoe and counter its odd tilt. I was outshone was usual by her heroism. But as we watched that pirogue drift away across the Kwenge, Mother gripped my hand so tightly I understood that I had been chosen. She would drag me out of Africa if it was her last living act as a mother. I think probably it was. — Barbara Kingsolver

She put her hand on my shoulder, and her eyes let me know, just crouch down, hold tight, there's a little bit of pain for you, but not too much. — Rebecca Lee

His father asked Ethan in a raspy voice, "You spend time with your son?" "Much as I can," he'd answered, but his father had caught the lie in his eyes. "It'll be your loss, Ethan. Day'll come, when he's grown and it's too late, that you'd give a kingdom to go back and spend a single hour with your son as a boy. To hold him. Read a book to him. Throw a ball with a person in whose eyes you can do no wrong. He doesn't see your failings yet. He looks at you with pure love and it won't last, so you revel in it while it's here." Ethan thinks often of that conversation, mostly when he's lying awake in bed at night and everyone else is asleep, and his life screaming past at the speed of light - the weight of bills and the future and his prior failings and all these moments he's missing - all the lost joy - perched like a boulder on his chest. — Blake Crouch

The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious.' Albert Einstein — Blake Crouch

never saw our friends or family. We were forced to marry." "That didn't turn out so bad," she said. Bob held his tongue as he drove through the heart of the curve. — Blake Crouch

He figures she must contain a carbon core. A soul as hard as a diamond. So what happens when a diamond finally breaks? — Blake Crouch

Ethan didn't miss those things. Didn't wish that his son was growing up in a world where people stared at screens all day. Where communication had devolved into the tapping of tiny letters and humanity lived by and large for the endorphin kick from the ping of a received text or a new e-mail. — Blake Crouch

If there are infinite worlds, how do I find the one that is uniquely, specifically mine? — Blake Crouch

I finally had to go to the American Civil Liberties Union here in northern California to get my reply published to what I considered to be a hatchet job done by Stanley Crouch. — Ishmael Reed

time-lapse of a replicating virus, — Blake Crouch

Lorn passed a hand over her eyes, then staggered back a step and reeled into the alley's shadows behind her. She slid down one wall into a sagging crouch. — Steven Erikson

Could a werewolf eat a baby whole, in one bite?" asked Anthony. "I suppose one could," Hollis said. Actually, he knew that one could. Firsthand. Heh heh. "So when it pooped out the baby, would the baby be a werepoopwolf?" "What if a werepoopwolf bit a werewolfwolfskunkdeer?" "It would be a werewolfwolfwolfpoopskunkdeer. — Blake Crouch

There's a theory in the field of aesthetics called the uncanny valley. It holds that when something looks almost like a human being - a mannequin or humanlike robot - it creates revulsion in the observer, because the appearance is so close to human, yet just off enough to evoke a feeling of uncanniness, of something that is both familiar and alien. It — Blake Crouch