My Backpack Quotes & Sayings

Oh. Come on! I left my backpack on the bus. According to Darwin, you're a prime candidate for extinction. Too stupid to live! — Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Drop by drop rain slaps the banana leaves,

Praise whoever sketched this desolate scene:

the lush, dark canopies of the gnarled trees,

the long river, sliding smooth and white.

I lift my wine flask, drunk with rivers and hills.

My backpack, breathing moonlight, sags with poems.

Look, and love everyone.

Whoever sees this landscape is stunned. — Ho Xuan Huong

I didn't realize I was frozen in place until a classmate shouldered into me, knocking my heavy backpack from my shoulder. "'Scuse me," he
grumbled, his tone more Get out of the way than Sorry I ran into you.
As I bent to retrieve my backpack, praying Kennedy and his fangirl hadn't seen me, a hand grasped the strap and swung the pack up from
the floor. I straightened and looked into clear gray-blue eyes. "Chivalry isn't really dead, you know. — Tammara Webber

Dead Butterfly
By Ellen Bass
For months my daughter carried
a dead monarch in a quart mason jar.
To and from school in her backpack,
to her only friend's house. At the dinner table
it sat like a guest alongside the pot roast.
She took it to bed, propped by her pillow.
Was it the year her brother was born?
Was this her own too-fragile baby
that had lived - so briefly - in its glassed world?
Or the year she refused to go to her father's house?
Was this the holding-her-breath girl she became there?
This plump child in her rolled-down socks
I sometimes wanted to haul back inside me
and carry safe again. What was her fierce
commitment? I never understood.
We just lived with the dead winged thing
as part of her, as part of us,
weightless in its heavy jar. — Ellen Bass

I walked downhill to the rental place, my backpack ten pounds heavier than it was this morning because of three huge textbooks: one on government from world history class; one from English class called Catastrophes of New England: 1650 to 1875; and a much-used book from my last class of the day, Non-Euclidean Geometry. The class was taught by Mr. Gint, a pale, balding man who barely looked at us. The entire class period he sat at his desk with a protractor and pencil, drawing pictures and muttering to himself. — Daryl Gregory

I take care of everybody. I'm either hugging you or making sure that you're not sick, because my backpack has every kind of medicine in it. — Leslie Jones

Hey Pete. What's up?"
"'What's up? You ran away from home!"
Dropping my backpack on a bench, I sat down and looked out at the water. "I'll be back next Monday. Is that still considered running away?"
I pulled the phone away from my ear as he hollered, "Yes, that's still running away! — H.R. Willaston

Bombs on my backpack lunchbox full of fivestar crackers pockets loaded with rockets im gonna spit fireworks explosive rhymes connected like judas belt here comes my ride a mother rocket fly so high reach and bursts into the night sky — Patrick Cruz

What do you think we're hunting tonight?"
I twisted and pulled at my backpack until it was in front of me, then opened it. More silver stakes. Little glass bottles of holy water. And, oh my God, was that a gun?
My knees were wobbling as I zipped up the Bag O'Death and gingerly dropped it in the grass.
"What's wrong?" Izzy asked.
"Um, a lot? There is seriously so much wrongness going on right now. Namely, the fact that you people are teenagers with bags of guns."
Izzy stiffened a little at that. "We're not kids," she spit out. "We're Brannicks."
Sighing, I shoved my hands in my pockets. "I get that, but look, Izzy, I can't kill a werewolf. I know werewolves. I lived with some, and they're ... well, they're gross and slobbery and super scary, but I can't kill one. — Rachel Hawkins

I knew they weren't brown. I didn't know you were studying Light Manipulation. I'm impressed. But it takes concentration." He leans forward slowly until his mouth is inches from my ear. My eyes flutter and I know he heard the gasp of air I took no matter how quiet it was. "You got distracted," he whispers, then grabs his backpack from behind me and leaves. — Kasie West

I'm so glad you're okay."
"So, how do we celebrate my okayness? It's my day off. Let's go crazy. Glow-in-the-dark bowling?"
"No"
"I'll let you use the kiddie ball."
"Shut up. I do NOT need the kiddie ball."
"The way you bowl, I think you might."
He grabbed her in an exaggerated formal dance pose and whirled her around, backpack and all, which didn't make her any more graceful.
"Ballroom dancing?"
"Are you INSANE?"
"Hey, girls who tango are hot."
"You think I'm not hot because I don't tango?"
He dropped the act. Shane was a smart boy.
"I think you are too hot for ballroom or bowling. So you tell me. What do you want to do? And don't say study. — Rachel Caine

I possessed only a book, which I carried in my small backpack. Suddenly, while I was walking, the book began to burn. Dawn was breaking and almost no cars passed. While throwing the charred backpack in an irrigation ditch I felt my back sting as though I had wings. — Roberto Bolano

My dream is to walk around the world. A smallish backpack, all essentials neatly in place. A camera. A notebook. A traveling paint set. A hat. Good shoes. A nice pleated (green?) skirt for the occasional seaside hotel afternoon dance. — Maira Kalman

I pull my iPod out of my backpack and plug it in. It's the first thing I do every time I get in it, like a ritual. Music soothes the soul; at least it helps soothe mine. — Heather Gunter

Books? They're heavy and take up room in my already bulging backpack. But I have a thing about books. — Rick Yancey

Kiernan hoists one of the bags and slips the strap over my shoulder. I grab the other one, and soon I'm loaded like a pack mule, lugging two bulky military duffels in addition to my backpack.
Trey leans down to give me a goodbye kiss, but his lips are quivering with barely suppressed laughter.
"What?"
"You should see yourself. The toga, the sandals, and now this. You look like a short Greek Rambo."
"Athena, Goddess of Modern War," Kiernan cracks as they get into the car. And now they're both laughing.
I pull up the stable point and blink out, now completely certain that the two of them riding in the same car was a very bad idea. — Rysa Walker

I remember getting in the elevator for my audition and there was a guy next to me who had a backpack full of props and wigs and things, and I went, 'Oh, my God, that guy is so prepared, I have nothing, I have no props.' And that was Andy Samberg. And Andy Samberg said he was looking at me going, 'Oh, that guy has no props. He doesn't need props.' And that was the first time we met, was in that elevator. — Bill Hader

The reality that we were growing up in was very young and vibrant, and nobody was capturing that part of India. I started to backpack after getting out of college. I hiked and did a lot of things nobody was capturing in art at all in India, so I wrote my first novel. It was a very, trippy, experience-filled novel, and it ended up doing very well in India because nobody was writing about that at that point. — Karan Bajaj

nothing there, except my normal specks of freckles. Dismissing it to my imagination, I grabbed my backpack and headed downstairs to get some breakfast. That's when — Jessica Sorensen

Looks like we have quite the predicament here, boys." I smile at both of them, then eye the coffee in Breckin's hands. "I see the Mormon brought the queen her offering of coffee. Very impressive."
I look at Holder and cock my eyebrow. "Do you wish to reveal your offering, hopeless boy, so that I may decide who shall accompany me at the classroom throne today?"
Breckin looks at me like I've lost my mind. Holder laughs and picks his backpack up off the desk. "Looks like someone's in need of an ego-shattering text today. — Colleen Hoover

I didn't feel anything but a bone-deep weariness. Like I was suddenly a hundred years old, and I knew at that moment I would have to live a hundred more years, carrying my grief around like a backpack full of stones. — Jennifer Weiner

My backpack has seven or eight DVDs in it and four or five of them have been there three months and I'm desperate to get to them. — Lorenzo Di Bonaventura

I'm forever hopeful," he said. "That's what friends do. They hope. They have faith in each other."

"Well, I have faith that she'll forget," I said, hiking my backpack up onto my shoulders. "You have to be a realist with Caro."

"I'm a hopeful realist," Drew said. "I'm a healist! Like those guys on TV late at night that cure people of cancer." He grinned down at me. — Robin Benway

I'd begun at the soundless place where California touches Mexico with five Gatorade bottles full of water and eleven pounds of gear and lots of candy. My backpack was tiny, no bigger than a schoolgirl's knapsack. Everything I carried was everything I had. — Aspen Matis

I grabbed Liam's arm as he passed me on his way to the tunnel door, kissing his cheek. "See you later tonight."
He stepped down into the tunnel, shouldering a backpack Cole had left for him there. When I turned to say good-bye to the other Stewart, he'd stooped, turned his cheek toward me, and was waiting. I flicked it with my finger, making him laugh again.
"You're impossible," I informed him.
"It's all part of my charm," he said, shifting the heavy bag on his shoulder. "Take care of things, Boss."
"Take care of him." I said, pointedly.
He gave one last mock salute before shutting the door to the tunnel. I waited until the sound of his and the others' steps faded completely before locking the door after him. — Alexandra Bracken

I held my hand out. "Give me a grenade."
Andrea pulled open her backpack and slid a grenade into my palm. "Wait until they start shooting the Jeep. Boom comes first, shrapnel flies second. Count to ten before you run in there. And don't blow the device up."
"Yes, Mother. It's not my first time."
"That's the thanks I get for trying to keep you alive, Your Highness. — Ilona Andrews

My dear children!"
Nellie whopped him upside the head with her backpack.
"Ow!" Uncle Alistair curled over, cupping his hand over his good eye.
"Nellie!" Amy said.
"Sorry," Nellie muttered. "I thought he was one of the bad guys. — Rick Riordan

I like the city. I like the concrete. I like big business. I like being a CEO of my own company and having a lot of responsibilities. At the same time, when I can go off with a backpack or off on a surfboard or even off on a run somewhere in the woods - that's where I'm really happy. — Matthew McConaughey

After lunch I tried to watch television, but I found that even with two-thirds of my brain focused on fretting about my coming demise, the remaining third of my intellect was a little too smart to put up with the bright and brainless daytime drivel on all the channels. I turned off the set and just sat on the couch, letting one tense and miserable thought chase another, until finally, at half past five, the front door burst open and Astor stormed in, flung her backpack on the floor, and rushed to her room. She was followed by Cody, who actually noticed me and nodded, and then Rita, carrying Lily Anne. — Jeff Lindsay

After walking for a long time, he finally pulled me near a copse of bamboo that was growing near a large teak tree. He stuck his nose up in the air, smelling for who-knows-what and then wandered over to a grassy area and lay down.
"Well, I guess that means this is where we sleep for the night." I shrugged out of my backpack while grousing. "Great. No, really. It's a lovely choice. I'd give it four stars if it included a mint. — Colleen Houck

I have a pro tools rig that I carry in my backpack. — Will.i.am

Although some people think women are inferior to men, I think it's a privilege to be a woman. There are so many fun things afforded to the female gender such as adornment of self, the freedom to communicate with gestures, and the freedom to express one's emotions.
I don't know what I'd do without my red backpack purse, and I am attached to my PDA with the pink monogrammed leather case. I've developed favorites among the many items in my wardrobe, and I like experimenting with accessories like hats, scarves, watches and belts.
I've become fairly proficient at applying make-up, and I now know the importance of a good facial cleanser and moisturizer. — Jessica Angelina Birch

Officer Downing pulls into the driveway next to Mom's car. Of course she's home. I don't know why I even wasted hope that she wouldn't be. Maybe because I'm eighteen, which means they don't bother calling your parents to the scene. But even if I'm not a victim of the law, I'm a victim of the small-town grapevine. A victim of flashing blue lights, whispered scorn, and heads shaking in disapproval. And, boy, do I feel like a victim, because not only is she home, she's standing on the front porch, arms crossed. Waiting.
Officer Downing opens the back door to the low-budget cop car that smells like vinyl, BO, and humiliation. I step out. He hands me my backpack, which Rachel was so kind to bring out when we dropped Rayna off at Galen's house. She was also kind enough not to kill me for showing up at her house with a cop. — Anna Banks

Would you like to hold my sword?" He asked the question with a gleam in his eyes.
Lucy burst out laughing. At least she didn't giggle again. "You did not just say that. But, um, yeah, I'd like to hold your sword, Agent Riley."
Hunter grinned and unzipped his backpack, pulling out something surprisingly small. He held it out to her, and noticed the disappointed look on her face. "Expecting something bigger?"
She smirked at his continued play on words. She had a lifetime of training in verbal and physical sparring; he was no match for her. "They say size doesn't matter, but I disagree."
Hunter, who apparently hadn't expected her response, choked on his own comeback and unsheathed the sword, then placed it in her hand. "You have to stroke it a certain way to make it bigger. — Kimberly Kinrade

I'm not going to change the way people think about me, but I can say you know what? I'm not going to carry that in my backpack. — Anne Lamott

Should I try to help her? Surely I was strong enough to loosen that stubborn backpack. And, in doing so, I could make a clever comment about how cold it must be outside for her nipple to get so hard. She'd laugh and toss her head back; her long blond hair would fall off her shoulders onto her back in slow motion. Thankful for my help, she'd lift up her shirt to give me a better look at her tits before I rip her clothes off and throw her down on the dirty hardwood floor.
Shit, I gotta stop watching so much porn. - Tyler Campbell, Safe With Me, Part 1 — Shaina Richmond

Where's your boyfriend, District 12? Still hanging on?" She asks.
Well, as long as we're talking I'm alive. "He's out there now. Hunting Cato," I snarl at her. Then I scream at the top of my lungs. "Peeta!"
Clove jams her fist into my windpipe, very effectively cutting off my voice. But her head's whipping from side to side, and I know for a moment she's at least considering I'm telling the truth. Since no Peeta appears to save me, she turns back to me.
"Liar," she says with a grin. "He's nearly dead. Cato knows where he cut him. You've probably got him strapped up in some tree while you try to keep his heart going. What's in the pretty little backpack? That medicine for Lover Boy? Too bad he'll never get it. — Suzanne Collins

Traveling is a great love of mine. I love South America and Africa. I'm your ultimate backpacker when I'm away. It's just me and my backpack. It's good for getting away from the industry. — Matthew McConaughey

Bianca: There's a difference between like and love. I like my Sketchers. But I love my Prada backpack.
Chastity: But I love my Sketchers.
Bianca: That's because you don't have a Prada backpack. — David Levithan

Rather than be searched by hand, I chose to walk through the metal detector without my cart or my tank or even the plastic nubbins in my nose. Walking through the X-ray machine marked the first time I'd taken a step without oxygen in some months, and it felt pretty amazing to walk unencumbered like that, stepping across the Rubicon, the machine's silence acknowledging that I was, however briefly, a nonmetallicized creature. I felt a bodily sovereignty that I can't really describe except to say that when I was a kid I used to have a really heavy backpack that I carried everywhere with all my books in it, and if I walked around with the backpack for long enough, when I took it off I felt like I was floating. — John Green

She feels so good and welcoming, like home. Reluctantly, I relinquish her, and Bob gives me an awkward one-armed hug. He seems unsteady on his feet, and I remember that he's hurt his leg. "Welcome back, Ana. Why you cryin'?" he asks. "Aw, Bob, I'm just pleased to see you, too." I stare up into his handsome square-jawed face and his twinkling blue eyes that gaze at me fondly. I like this husband, Mom. You can keep him. He takes my backpack. "Jeez, Ana, what have you got in here?" That would be the Mac, and they both put their arms around me as we head for the parking lot. I always forget how unbearably hot it is in Savannah. Leaving the cool air-conditioned confines of the arrival terminal, we step into the Georgia heat like we're wearing it. Whoa! It saps everything. I have to struggle out of Mom and Bob's embrace so — E.L. James

We need to stay hydrated," Alec said, placing his weapon on the ground. He slipped off his backpack and pulled out one of his two canteens. After a long drink he handed it to Mark, who relished every drop as it slicked his parched mouth and throat. "Oh, man," he said when he finished, handing the canteen back to Alec. "That was the single best drink I've ever had in my life. That one right there." "Sayin' a lot," Alec muttered as he put the thing away and hunched into his backpack once again. "Considering all the times we've been thirsty in the last year. — James Dashner

Every part of my body hurt. Except my heart. I saw no one, but, strange as it was, I missed no one. I longed for nothing but food and waterr and to be able to pt my backpack down — Cheryl Strayed

I run as fast as I can.

I make my way to the Employee Only exit and burst through, entering the main mall, gripping the backpack straps with both hands.

I don't see anyone else.

Some light from the sun is still shining through the skylights, making long shadows out of everything - the signs, the benches, the railing above me.

I run down the middle of the first-floor walkway, searching desperately for a way up to the second level. — Jonathan R. Miller

I see Dr. Johnston at the end of the hall, walking toward us. He stops talking to the other doctors and gestures for me to wait. He holds up his hand: Stop. His face is eager yet unsmiling. I look in the other direction then back at him. His steps quicken, and I squint, for some reason pretending I don't recognize him. And I think: What if I'm wrong? What if Joanie doesn't make it out of this?
"Scottie," I say. "This way."
I walk in the other direction, away from Dr. Johnston, and she turns and follows me.
"Walk quickly," I tell her.
"Why?"
"It's a game. Let's race. Walk fast. Run."She takes off, her backpack jiggling on her back, and I follow her, walking quickly then breaking into a slow jog, and because Dr. Johnston is my friend's dad and was a friend of my father's, I feel like I'm fourteen again, running from the patriarchs. — Kaui Hart Hemmings

I eat bags and bags of cashews. I've got them in the kitchen, and about ten feet away I've got another bowl on the kitchen table. In my backpack, I've always got a bag of cashews. I started eating them in the airports because that's the one food that you can find in every airport that's actually nutritious. — Michael Franti

I just travel the world with my backpack and my cameras and a bunch of Clif bars. — Henry Rollins

At 17, I traveled to Mexico in a lemon yellow Mustang and saved money by bunking down in cheap, cockroach-infested flophouses. In my early 20s, I went on to thumb rides through Europe, readily sleeping in train stations, my backpack as a pillow. Once I even hunkered down for a night on a sidewalk grate - for warmth - in Paris. — Michael Dirda

I always carry around a giant makeup case with about fifteen items in it. I so want to be the girl who just carries lipstick as if that's all I need, but I'm just not that girl. I need my lipstick, but then, just in case my cheeks start to lose their color, I need my blush. Then I'll need my oil pads ... so I just take the whole thing. And now I need a full on fashionable backpack for it all! — Analeigh Tipton

Ah." He set down his backpack and pulled out their notebook. "You're working on your final project?"
"Indirectly," Cath said.
"What does that mean?"
"Have you ever heard sculptors say that they don't actually sculpt an object; they sculpt away everything that isn't the object?"
"No." He sat down.
"Well, I'm writing everything that isn't my final project, so that when I actually sit down to write it, that's all that will be left in my mind. — Rainbow Rowell

Since then, everywhere I went the pain of losing him went with me. It wore me like a backpack, slapping a rhythm of heartache against my soul with each step. — Kate Kae Myers

What I carry in my backpack down to the river, I carry not knowing that in less than an hour Thomas Broughton will be dead. That is not a knowledge I carry yet, but I will carry it soon - the knowledge of my darkest self - and I will carry it forever. — Jenny Hubbard

You know, Junie, you're fourteen now. I think you can certainly manage to put together a sandwich ...
The thing is, if my mother had any idea what I had in my backpack, she would have made me that sandwich. If she knew that I'd searched and searched the house until I finally found the little key to the fireproof box buried in the bottom of her underwear drawer, if she knew that I'd unlocked the box and taken my passport out, that I had it with me right that very second in a Ziploc bag in the bottom of my backpack, if she knew why I had it there, if she knew even a bit of all that, she might have made me that PBJ. She wouldn't have said, "You're fourteen now," like she thought I was some kind of responsible adult. No. If she knew about my plan, she would have said, "you're only fourteen." She would have told me that I was crazy to think about going to England with I was only fourteen. — Carol Rifka Brunt

Well, maybe it was just that I wasn't going to like anybody because I had to work and I had to explain to my teachers why I wasn't keeping up. I'd fall asleep and things in class and they'd lecture me about the reality of their classroom. I said, 'You want to see my reality?' I opened up my backpack to where you usually keep your pencils. That's where I kept my bills ... electric bills, rent ... That was my reality. — Eddie Vedder

When I grew up in the early '90s, the new World Wide Web felt like a gimmick, and I had no idea of the changes in store. In the summers, I'd backpack through Europe, follow the Grateful Dead. I had a car and a tent and traveled around the Great Lakes and out West. Jack Kerouac was my guiding light, his 'On the Road' a sacred text. — Tony D'Souza

So I'm more at home with my backpack, sleeping in a hotel room or on a bus or on an airplane, than I am necessarily on a bed. It's weird being here. It feels like I'm standing next to my real life. — Henry Rollins

In true Bastien form - and keeping in mind that he's only seven at the time - he yanks off his helmet, throws his backpack down, and lies on the ground, using the helmet for a pillow, and says to them, and I quote verbatim, 'Later, bitches. I'm done for the day. Y'all can carry me home or call for a lift. Either way, I ain't moving from here. My ass is too precious for this abuse. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

We need to talk," he insisted, opening the door to his jeep that was parked next to my car. I was still holding out hope this would end and I would see his smile soon.
"What's wrong?" I retaliated before I go in.
"There's something you need to know, something I haven't told you," he said, taking my backpack from me. — S.G. Holster

If I find out you laid a hand on my daughter
"
"What?" said Gabriel. "You'll stand here and bitch about it?"
"Stop it!" cried Layne, dragging his coat and backpack from the kitchen. Her dad took a step forward.
"I'll have you arrested and charged with trespassing and statutory rape."
"Then I'm going to need another fifteen minutes. — Brigid Kemmerer

My mind absorbs things in a funny way. I'm on planes quite a bit and I always take stacks and stacks of magazines and I go through them and tear pages out and fold them up, and they get stuck at the bottom of my backpack or whatever. — Marc Jacobs

I slipped into the music room and, with my backpack still in my lap like a shield. I took a seat at a piano old enough to have been carried over the ark. The room was small, quiet.
A sanctuary.
It was always this way for me. Teh stored instruments in the closets called out like old friends. The bent and scratched black music stands welcomed me to thier home. The oily smell, a perfume. It was like ... church. — Jenny B. Jones

My conflicts of conscience are about the only battles I'm fighting these days, and I'm willing to fight until the end. There is something freeing
about this life, about living out of a single backpack and disappearing into the night. About smelling terrible and never remembering people's names. About never having to say you're sorry. We exist outside of society. We stay up late and sleep even later. We
are bandits, pirates, serial killers. The dregs. Someone should lock us up and never let us out again. But instead, they give us their money, they offer us their beds. We are not
going to pay for the beer. We are not going to be back here for a good, long while. We have prior engagements. We have the money in a duffel bag. We have no shame. Fuck guilt. Back to life. — Pete Wentz

My touring isn't about collecting souvenirs and always being on the go. My souvenirs are writing in my journal and creating new music, because that fits easily into my backpack when I'm travelling around the world. It's something that I can share later with fans or with future family members. — Jason Mraz

Annabelle was practically standing on my back. It was like wearing an Annabelle backpack. — Rose Pressey

But I was not especially skilled at minding children for long spells; I grew bored, perhaps like my own mother. After I spent too much time playing their games, my mind grew peckish and longed to lose itself in some book I had in my backpack. I was ever hopeful of early bedtimes and long naps. — Lorrie Moore

I dropped my backpack, shrugged off my coat, and hopped on the exercise bike. Charging the batteries was usually the only physical exercise I got each day. — Ernest Cline

I pulled my suitcase out of the backseat of my bug, along with Cannoli's new travel case, a spiffy animal print pet backpack on wheels. When I first saw it, I thought maybe the dog was supposed to wear the backpack, but it turned out the person wore the backpack with the dog in it. — Claire Cook

An older, inebriated Scot who looked like he'd been sitting on his barstool all day looked me up and down, then smelled the air. "Heh, neebr, goat a deid an'mal in yer bac'pac, or iz it ye tha' bloody stinks?"
My brain took a moment to translate. "Actually, yes, there is a dead animal in my backpack, but I probably stink, too. — Steve Alten

So, what you're saying is that I bring out your book - wielding, short tempered side?" He hooked his foot through the straps of my backpack and brought in front of him. "Removing temptation."
I gave him a look that communicated he should wither and die. — Lani Woodland

I was doing stand up comedy when I was 11, that's how I got started; not because I wanted to do comedy, but because we were broke, living in Echo Park in Downtown Los Angeles, from 1986, I saw the Rodney King riots; my parents didn't really work. But I wanted a new backpack, that's how I got into this business - I wanted a new backpack. — Shia Labeouf

There was so little I wanted to carry. Packing my backpack took me all of four minutes — Aspen Matis

My reading practice is one reason I mostly don't read electronically. Different books are in different rooms of my house, and one is in my backpack. Physical location tells me what book to read. — Jordan Ellenberg

Hey,' Wildgirl says, 'let me into your backpack. I've got a light on my keys that I totally forgot about.'
I turn my back to her and feel her fumbling with the zip of my pack. It's a lot lighter now.
'I'm glad you hung on to your bag. I would have had to kick your ass if you lost all my stuff.'
I probably wouldn't mind that, although if I were given a choice, I'd opt for another kiss. It's the first time I've been so close to someone since I've changed. Kissing felt better than I remembered, but it also felt like it was something I had to be careful about. It never felt that way before. — Leanne Hall

I'm about 5' 10, and my hair is the length of my whole body now. We grow our hair because of faith, but it's getting heavy. Most of the rastas I know with hair my length are elders, and they keep it tied up, but for a young person who's active and running around, the weight is a big thing. So to play sports, I put it in a backpack. — Damian Marley

There are very few things I've done just twice in my life, 40 years apart, and one is to backpack on the Pacific Crest Trail across the California/Oregon border. — Nicholas Kristof

"So good to see you again, little luv. How I've missed you."
Gasping, I fall to my knees. The Caterpillar and the moth and the winged guy. They are all one and the same. They have been all along ...
"I've seen that bug," Jeb says. "In your car. On the mirror." He drops the backpack and grips my shoulders, trying to drag me ti my feet. My legs won't cooperate.
"Tut-tut. You are never to bow to me, lovely Alyssa." The voice drifts from the moth's proboscis on gray puffs of smoke. His attention shifts to Jeb. "You, on the other hand, will bow to her." — A.G. Howard

I keep my chin tucked in, eyes on the ground, the same stance I have when I pass by the guys from my neighborhood who laugh and call me Urkel because I wear a big backpack and don't hang out on the street all night smoking Kool XLs--and by the way, we need a new black nerd archetype; also, when are these wannabe gangstas watching reruns of Family Matters? — Una LaMarche

I stuck one of my backpack straps into my mouth and bit down on it. I knew that no matter what I did, my attempt at playing doctor was going to f**king hurt, but I didn't feel like dying here. — Andrew Cormier

walked down the hill and stuck out my thumb, standing in the same spot where I had stood when I hitchhiked to high school. My clothes and gear were in my official Boy Scout backpack, a big old thing on an aluminum rack, with my sleeping bag and pup tent lashed to it. I'd been a serious Boy Scout - I joined at 12, after my failed Little League career, and took to it immediately, racking up merit badges and making it all the way to Eagle Scout. I knew first aid, how to start a fire in the rain, how to make a mean camp stew, and lots of other useful stuff. And I didn't mind sleeping outside, which was a good thing, since there was no way I could afford motels. My official Boy Scout sheath knife, a serious piece of business with a leather-wrapped handle and a five-inch blade, was also in the pack; I'd move it into my boot by the end of the first day. — David Noonan

I thought about my prison cell and my room in the nurses' dormitory. I understood him all too well. "I want to travel," he continued. "Visit distant countries. Backpack through the Himalayas or paint New York red for two or three weeks. Then fly to Tokyo and eat sushi. Not staying anywhere too long, always on the move, always a new goal on the horizon. That's what I want. — Roxann Hill

In the spring of 2015, I went to Spain to walk for a week on the Camino de Santiago, the medieval route that has been used for centuries by pilgrims demonstrating their devotion, and now by spiritual seekers looking for renewal. Ever since I studied medieval art in college, walking the Camino had been a dream of mine. I loved the idea of a moderately sized adventure, one that was about walking, not running, and still had the safety of towns and sleeping on mats on the floor instead of inside tents. I set off with underprepared feet, too much in my backpack, thirteen words of Spanish and my copy of Eat Pray Love. — Various

I was able to pitch a tent and carry a backpack twenty-five miles a day through mountains - I'd mastered a thousand amazing physical feats - physically I'd become undeniably confident and capable - but physical weakness had never been the problem that I had. My true problem had been passivity, the lifelong-conditioned submission that became my nature. — Aspen Matis

I opened my backpack and checked my supplies: some enchanted rope, my curved ivory wand, a lump of wax for making a magical shabti figurine, my calligraphy set, and a healing potion my friend Jaz had brewed for me a while back. (She knew that I got hurt a lot.) — Rick Riordan

When I graduated from college in the spring of 1970, I decided to hitchhike around Europe with my guitar and my backpack. I was gone for about four months. — John Oates

My backpack was with the Ripper, with my passport and most of my money. That was going to be a tough one to explain. "Sorry, I seem to have left my passport in 1888." At that moment though, I couldn't be bothered to care too much. A major inconvenience? Yes. A life-threatening one? Not after the night I'd had. — April White

Will you date me when I ask you out? it asked.
Yes.
Even if I'm ugly and you don't like my personality?
Yes.
No, you won't.
I will!
You're just saying that because you're in a hurry.
Well, it won't be my fault if I miss the bus.
Goodbye, sweetness.
Bye! Where's my backpack?
It's on the counter.
Oh. Bye! — Miranda July

I also have my backpack of the tried-and-true, and because it is new to [my students], it becomes fresh to me again as well. — Dorianne Laux

When Alex leaves a little later, Carlos steps forward. "Need help?"
I shake my head.
"Are you ever gonna talk to me again? Dammit, Kiara, enough with the silent treatment. I'd rather have you say your little two-word sentences than stop talkin' altogether. Hell, just flip
me off again."
I toss my backpack in the backseat and start the engine.
"Where are you goin'?" Carlos asks, stepping in front of my car.
I beep.
"I'm not movin'," he says.
My response is another beep. It's not an intimidating, deep beep like most cars, but it's the best my car can give.
He places both hands on the hood.
"Move," I say.
He moves all right. With pantherlike quickness, Carlos jumps through the open passenger window, feet first.
"You should get the door fixed," he says. — Simone Elkeles

I do a lot of walking around in game parks, rain forests, places like that, but it's not like I'm camping in them as much as my day walks. I've done that all over the world, not like with a backpack on my back living out in the woods for several days. When I travel abroad, it's more the city that captures my interest. — Henry Rollins

There was a great complexity to my father. He was a devoted family man. But, in the same breath, he simply was not suited to an anchored life. He should have been somebody who had a backpack, an old map, a bit of change in his pocket and that was it - roaming the world. — Christian Bale

I grew up in the Cayman Islands. I didn't play video games or watch TV. I would basically come home from school, throw down my backpack, grab my machete, and go hike and chop down trees to make a fort. — Armie Hammer

Every day I lugged my backpack through the halls, waiting for the final bell. Then I'd race home and hole up in my room, playing the drums and the piano, composing music. — Josh Groban

It's from being melancholy and having my human down experiences that I learn, that I overcome, that I transform - and these realizations I put into song. That's what I choose to put in my backpack and carry with me around the world. — Jason Mraz

I had a briefcase at one point, but it was a kind of 1980s New Wave briefcase. It was made of some kind of cardboard and it had metal hinges. It was kind of faux industrial looking, and I used to carry my books in it rather than a backpack. I didn't want to have normal student accoutrements. — Jeffrey Eugenides