Muffled Heart Quotes & Sayings

I used to be fast and loose with the term 'country' because I didn't know what else to call my music. I still don't. — Caitlin Rose

An armed man will kill an unarmed man with monotonous regularity. — Clint Smith

I didn't really know X-Men at all before I started. So I'd heard of this comic but I didn't know it was as beloved or as iconic as I have now found out, but I just know fans are going to flip out at this. — Hugh Jackman

The clock sweats out each minute
of what meat is left to us. — Joseph Bathanti

His arms cinch around my waist and he buries his face into my neck. He says a muffled, "Don't wanna let you go."
My heart swells, I whisper back, "Then don't. — Belle Aurora

The vision seemed to enter the house with me - the stretcher, the phantom-bearers, the wild crowd of obedient worshippers, the gloom of the forests, the glitter of the reach between the murky bends, the beat of the drum, regular and muffled like the beating of a heart - the heart of a conquering darkness. — Joseph Conrad

While inside the vaulting of the ribs between his knees the darkly meated heart pumped of who's will and the blood pulsed and the bowels shifted in their massive blue convolutions of who's will and the stout thighbones and knee and cannon and the tendons like flaxen hawsers that drew and flexed and drew and flexed at their articulations of who's will all sheathed and muffled in the flesh and the hooves that stove wells in the morning groundmist and the head turning side to side and the great slavering keyboard of his teeth and the hot globes of his eyes where the world burned. — Cormac McCarthy

God has spoken very boldly about his desire to be a presence in our lives. If I want to heal the ache and loneliness in my own life, one of the things I need to do is get away, alone with God ... In the silence God will speak to you most powerfully. Too often his words to us get muffled, lost, or covered by the crowd of many noises both inside and outside of us. We must have a quiet heart in order to hear God's distinctive message to us. — Tim Hansel

February. Get ink, shed tears. Write of it, sob your heart out, sing, While torrential slush that roars Burns in the blackness of the spring. Go hire a buggy. For six grivnas, Race through the noice of bells and wheels To where the ink and all you grieving Are muffled when the rainshower falls. To where, like pears burnt black as charcoal, A myriad rooks, plucked from the trees, Fall down into the puddles, hurl Dry sadness deep into the eyes. Below, the wet black earth shows through, With sudden cries the wind is pitted, The more haphazard, the more true The poetry that sobs its heart out. — Boris Pasternak

This isn't anywhere I haven't been before. I've given up. In words muffled with exhaustion I whisper a prayer for my heart to stop. — Chuck Palahniuk

She buried her face against his chest, solid and broad, allowing herself this moment to fully lean on him, take some of the strength he readily offered. "I don't regret my choice," she said, her voice muffled as she pressed herself tight. "If I had to, I'd make the exact same decisions. But it hurts so damned much."
"Give me your pain, love," he said holding her against the steady beat of his heart. "Let me take it for you."
She shook her head. "No, the pain is mine to bear. I need it." She took a ragged breath. "To make me stronger. — Zoe Archer

She twisted a piece of his T-shirt, then let it go and laid her palm flat against his chest, right over his heart, and he could suddenly feel it again: the steady thump of it drowning out all his other thoughts. It was more drumbeat than countdown, more metronome than ticking clock, and he felt himself carried forward with each muffled beat, as if hope were a rhythm, a song he'd only just discovered. — Jennifer E. Smith

One man with a gun can control 100 without one ... Make mass searches and hold executions for found arms. — Vladimir Ilyich Lenin

Seemingly every year at least one of the league's top sluggers can be found in Boston's lineup - and often times more than one. David Ortiz was second or third in slugging five consecutive seasons from 2003-07. Manny Ramirez was in the top five in slugging six consecutive seasons from 2001-06. Manny and Big Papi were one-two in slugging in 2004, and from 2003-06 Boston's big bats gave the club two of the league's top five sluggers - something no other team in the league could boast. — Tucker Elliot

Mark nearly fell forward, and threw his arms around Julian. Julian barely managed to catch himself before almost falling over. Mark was whipcord thin, but strong, his hands fisting in Julian's shirt. Julian could feel Mark's heart hammering, feel the sharp bones under his skin. He smelled like earth and mildew and grass and nighttime air. "Julian," Mark said, muffled, his body shaking. "Julian, my brother, my brother." Julian sighed. He wanted to relax into his older brother, let Mark hold him up the way he once had. But Mark was slighter than he was, fragile under his hands. He would be holding Mark up from now on. It was not what he had imagined, dreamed of, but it was the reality. It was his brother. He tightened his hands on Mark and adjusted his heart to bear the new burden. — Cassandra Clare

Then Lyra gave a cry so passionate that even in that muffled, mist-hung world it raised an echo, but of course it wasn't an echo, it was the other part of her crying in turn from the land of the living as Lyra moved away into the land of the dead. "My heart, Will ... " she groaned, and clung to him, her wet face contorted with pain. And thus the prophecy that the Master of Jordan College had made to the Librarian, that Lyra would make a great betrayal and it would hurt her terribly, was fulfilled. — Philip Pullman

I just think some books are instructions on why women are dirt or hardly exist at all except as accessories or are inherently evil and empty. — Rebecca Solnit

Who's the best shot?" asked the captain.
Mr. Trelawney, out and away," said I.
Mr. Trelawney, will you please pick me off one of these men, sir? [Israel]Hands, if possible. — Robert Louis Stevenson

a slow drum muffled in velvet. It's her heart. — Stephen King

To the solemn graves, near a lonely cemetery, my heart like a muffled drum is beating funeral marches. — Charles Baudelaire

Lost in the forest, I broke off a dark twig
and lifted its whisper to my thirsty lips:
maybe it was the voice of the rain crying,
a cracked bell, or a torn heart.
Something from far off: it seemed
deep and secret to me, hidden by the earth,
a shout muffled by huge autumns,
by the moist half-open darkness of the leaves.
Wakening from the dreaming forest there, the hazel-sprig
sang under my tongue, its drifting fragrance
climbed up through my conscious mind
as if suddenly the roots I had left behind
cried out to me, the land I had lost with my childhood - -
and I stopped, wounded by the wandering scent. — Pablo Neruda

Generally, the bigger the budget, the less interesting the characters become. — Matt Damon

It has been jestingly said that the works of John Paul Richter are almost unintelligible to any but the Germans, and even to some of them. A worthy German, just before Richter's death, edited a complete edition of his works, in which one particular passage fairly puzzled him. Determined to have it explained at the source, he went to John Paul himself. The author's reply was very characteristic: "My good friend, when I wrote that passage, God and I knew what it meant; it is possible that God knows it still; but as for me, I have totally forgotten." — Jean Paul

I was just beginning to relax when the radio crackled to life, and nearly gave me a heart attack.
"I see something, I see something!" Maddy was screaming and sounded terrified. "I see something moving!"
There was a weird, muffled sound, and then Skylar's voice came on. "Please disregard that emergency broadcast. Madeline has just seen her first cow. — V.L. Dreyer

Except for the muffled strum of her fingers against metal, the house is still, quiet, but then she hears another sound, this one coming from deep within. a numbing furrow slides through her soul, sliding into her brain, a furrow that seperates one part of her heart from the other. and then it goes quiet agani. — Mary E. Pearson

You can call me Seth, you know." She shrugged. "You used to." She used to do other things with him too. Like laugh and touch and make small talk. "Jack always called you Murphy. I got used to it. — Denise Hunter

I hate to break it to you," he said, "but this time a pair of sunglasses isn't going to cut it. People are probably going to know you've been crying."
"I thought you were dead," she told him, her voice muffled, her face buried in his shirt. "When those bullets hit you, I thought . . . I thought . . ."
"Yeah, I know," Harry said, stroking her hair. His heart was in his throat. Was it possible she really cared that much? "I know you pretty well by now, Al. You thought, 'Oh, fuck, the dumb son of a bitch is dead. Now who are they going to send to annoy the crap out of me? — Suzanne Brockmann

I hate you," I say, the sentiment muffled against his heart, hoping to make it true.
"And I love you," he answers without hesitation, voice resolved and raw as he holds me tighter so I can't break away and react. "A crossroads, my beautiful princess, that was unavoidable - given our situations. — A.G. Howard