Quotes & Sayings About No Reply

If you give the government the right to determine the consumption of the human body, to determine whether one should smoke or not smoke, drink or not drink, there is no good reply you can give to people who say, More important than the body is the mind and the soul, and man hurts himself much more by reading bad books, by listening to bad music and looking at bad movies. Therefore it is the duty of the government to prevent people from committing those faults. And, as you know, for many hundreds of years governments and authorities velieved that it was their duty. — Ludwig Von Mises

Just after midnight, I text my parents who live in Florida: Please tell me you didn't help elect him.

No reply.

The next morning, New York City wakes up with a wet, gray yawn. The air is thick with mist. The city moves at a slower, muffled pace. New Yorkers rarely make eye contact; today isn't much different, except when eyes meet, they lock for a moment in shared grief. Everyone's shoulders bend forward, the world weighing heavier on them than it did yesterday.

The sidewalks and the coffee shops are quiet. Even the subway paces through its underground veins in somber silence. My husband tells me: "The city hasn't been this quiet since 9/11."

- Melissa Lirtsman — Erin Passons

She hesitated. "I'm not sure I understand."
"Don't you?" he asked. "You changed my heart, Rachel."
She felt her throat constrict, making any reply impossible.
"Rachel?" Her silence rarely made him uncomfortable, but this time he had no clear view of her features and no way to gauge her reaction. He wondered if he should have made a more straightforward declaration. "Did you hear me say I love you?"
She turned her cheek into his shoulder. "I heard you. — Jo Goodman

My sister says tearfully that she has a feeling that she will never see me again. I am not very much impressed, because she has felt this every time I go to the East. And what, she asks, is she to do if Rosalind gets appendicitis? There seems no reason why my fourteen-year-old daughter should get appendicitis, and all I can think of to reply is: 'Don't operate on her yourself!' For my sister has a great reputation for hasty action with her scissors, — Agatha Christie Mallowan

Was I gleeful, settled, content, during the hours I passed in yonder bare, humble schoolroom this morning and afternoon? Not to decieve myself, I must reply
No: I felt desolate to a degree. I felt
yes, idiot that I am
I felt degraded. I doubted I had taken a step which sank instead of raising me in the scale of social existence. I was weakly dismayed at the ignorance, the poverty, the coarseness of all I heard and saw around me. But let me not hate and despise myself too much for these feelings; I know them to be wrong
that is a great step gained. I shall strive to overcome them. — Charlotte Bronte

When evening has come, I return to my house and go into my study. At the door I take off my clothes of the day, covered with mud and mire, and I put on my regal and courtly garments; and decently reclothed, I enter the ancient courts of ancient men, where, received by them lovingly, I feed on the food that alone is mine and that I was born for. There I am not ashamed to speak with them and to ask them the reason for their actions; and they in their humanity reply to me. And for the space of four hours I feel no boredom, I forget every pain, I do not fear poverty, death does not frighten me. I deliver myself entirely to them. — Niccolo Machiavelli

he received no reply. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

When she paused, I embraced the opportunity to turn the trend of conversation by saying:
'I am afraid that I was a little rude to you last night,' but I hardly expected such a blunt reply as she made.
'Yes, you were exceedingly rude, and I hate rude men.'
'I hope you don't hate me,' I cried, laughingly.
'Oh no, not quite. You're a Londoner, you see.'
This was very severe. I confess I was hardly prepared for it, and I was tempted to say something cutting in reply, but checked myself, bowed, and merely remarked:
'Which is not my fault. Therefore pity me rather than blame me.'
'Certainly I do that,' she replied, with an amusing seriousness.
("The Doomed Man") — Dick Donovan

Mostly, however, we've got it smooth and efficient now. We don't have to think. She says, 'What are you doing?', I peer at her with irritation and expel air, we go on about our business. This morning, though, she came upstairs to the attic here while I was sitting in front of the computer doing some work on the net.

'What are you doing?' she asks.

Trying to concentrate on something, distracted and harassed, I reply with some degree of acerbic aggravation.

'What does it look like I'm doing?'

There's a beat, during which we hold each others eyes, unblinking.

It's immediately after this beat has passed that I realize I'm wearing no trousers. — Mil Millington

Is political and civil inequality just?
Some say yes; others no. To the first I would reply that, when the people abolished all privileges of birth and caste, they did it, in all probability, because it was for their advantage; why then do they favor the privileges of fortune more than those of rank and race? Because, say they, political inequality is a result of property; and without property society is impossible: thus the question just raised becomes a question of property. To the second I content myself with this remark: If you wish to enjoy political equality, abolish property; otherwise, why do you complain? — Pierre-Joseph Proudhon

What is the most significant conversation you have every day?" People would respond piously, "Your conversation with God, of course." "No," Lewis would reply. "It's the conversation you have with yourself before you speak to God, because in that conversation with yourself, you decide whether you are going to be honest and authentic with God, or whether you are going to meet God with a false face, a mask, an act, a pretense. — Brian D. McLaren

Why do we put up with it? Do we like to be criticized? No, no scientist enjoys it. Every scientist feels a proprietary affection for his or her ideas and findings. Even so, you don't reply to critics, Wait a minute; this is a really good idea; I'm very fond of it; it's done you no harm; please leave it alone. Instead, the hard but just rule is that if the ideas don't work, you must throw them away. — Carl Sagan

How could Lincoln reply to such comments, without offending abolitionists or frightening slave-owning Unionists from the Upper South? Placating words were likewise out of the question. A plea from Virginia suggesting Lincoln need do no more than assure Southerners they had the right to bring their property into all American territories reminded the dubious president-elect of an apt story. It concerned a little girl who begged her mother to let her play outside. The mother repeatedly said no, the child persisted, and the mother finally lost patience and gave her a whipping, "upon which," Lincoln chortled, "the girl exclaimed: 'Now, Ma. I can certainly run out. — Harold Holzer

M. de Charlus made no reply and looked as if he had not heard, which was one of his favourite forms of rudeness. — Marcel Proust

This is so inconvenient. But there is no doubt." She paused for a moment and said: "I will die the day after tomorrow. On Friday, just before half past six in the morning." It was an impressive statement, and did not deserve this reply: "Oh, that's a shame, tae be missin' the weekend like that," said Rob Anybody. — Terry Pratchett

The usual complaint is, 'I have no other way of earning a living.' The harsh reply can be, 'Do you have to live?' — Tertullian

Three years later, Mr. Turley has received no reply to his letter. Nor can anybody account for the missing money: saints, it seems, are immune to audit. — Christopher Hitchens

Mari managed to fall asleep now and then, only to awaken with a start of fear that she had been making noise. "Do I snore when I'm sleeping?"she finally whispered to Alain.
He didn't answer.
"Alain? Are you awake?"
"Yes," he's reply finally came. "I just do not know which answer would be right."
"Just tell me!"
"Sometimes."
"Sometimes?" Mari moved her eyes enough to glance at Alain. "Loud or soft?"
"Sometimes."
"Does it ever bother you?"
Alain hesitated again. "Sometimes."
"Are you going to give me any plain yes or no answers to this?"
"Not if I can avoid doing so," he replied. — Jack Campbell

Helen, don't."
"I thought it was only a misunderstanding. I thought if I spoke to you directly, everything would be s-sorted out, and - " Another sob choked her. She was so consumed by emotion that she was only vaguely aware of Rhys hovering around her, reaching for her and snatching his hands back.
"No. Don't cry. For God's sake, Helen - "
"I didn't mean to push you away. I didn't know what to do. How can I make you want me again?"
She expected a jeering reply, or perhaps even a pitying one. The last thing she expected was his shaken murmur.
"I do want you, cariad. I want you too damned much."
She blinked at him through a bewildered blur, breathing in mortifying hiccups, like a child. In the next moment, he had hauled her firmly against him.
"Hush, now." His voice dropped to a deeper octave, a brush of dark velvet against her ears. "Hush, bychan, little one, my dove. Nothing is worth your tears."
"You are. — Lisa Kleypas

This is very American, too - the insecurity about whether we have earned our happiness. Planet Advertising in America orbits completely around the need to convince the uncertain consumer that yes, you have actually warranted a special treat. This Bud's for You! You Deserve a Break Today! Because You're Worth It! You've Come a Long Way, Baby! And the insecure consumer thinks, Yeah! Thanks! I AM gonna go buy a six-pack, damn it! Maybe even two six-packs! And then comes the reactionary binge. Followed by the remorse. Such advertising campaigns would probably not be as effective in the Italian culture, where people already know that they are entitled enjoyment in this life. The reply in Italy to "You Deserve a Break Today" would probably be, Yeah, no duh. That's why I'm planning on taking a break at noon, to go over to you house and sleep with your wife. — Elizabeth Gilbert

Cuz I look like Barbie." I reply, knowing they can connect the dots. "Bad girls don't like Barbie?" Michael asks, both his eyebrows rising. "No. Bad girls want to rip Barbie's head off and flush it down the toilet, — Amy A. Bartol

And Anne could have said much, and did long to say a little in defence of her friend's not very dissimilar claims to theirs, but her sense of personal respect to her father prevented her. She made no reply. She left it to himself to recollect, that Mrs Smith was not the only widow in Bath between thirty and forty, with little to live on, and no surname of dignity. — Jane Austen

Each drop of my blood will be an immortal flame in your conscience and will uphold the sacred will to resist. To hatred I reply with pardon, and to those who think they have defeated me, I reply with my victory. I was a slave to the Brazilian people, and today I am freeing myself for eternal life. But this people, whose slave I was, will no longer be slave to anyone. My sacrifice will remain forever in their souls and my blood will be the price for their ransom. I fought against the exploitation of Brazil. I fought against the exploitation of her people. I have fought with my whole heart. Hatred, infamy and slander have not conquered my spirit.I have given you my life. Now I offer you my death. I fear nothing. Serenely I take my first step towards eternity and leave life to enter history. — Getulio Vargas

Besides, it is no reason because you have not seen an execution at Paris, that you should not see one anywhere else; when you travel, it is to see everything. Think what a figure you will make when you are asked, "How do they execute at Rome?" and you reply, "I do not know"! — Alexander Dumas

Our souls demand Purgatory, don't they? Would it not break the heart if God said to us, It is true, my son, that your breath smells and your rags drip with mud and slime, but we are charitable here and no one will upbraid you with these things, nor draw away from you. Enter into joy? Should we not reply, With submission, sir, and if there is no objection, I'd rather be cleansed first. It may hurt, you know-even so, sir. — C.S. Lewis

Of course, once I'd wrapped my mind around the fact that it was Cal and not Archer standing in my bedroom, it dawned on me that Cal was standing in my bedroom.
"Hey," I breathed, hoping my hair wasn't a huge tangled mess, even though I was ninety-nine percent sure that it was. I mean, I could see it out of my peripheral vision.
"Hey."
"You're,um,in my room."
"I am."
"Is that allowed?"
"Well,we are engaged," Cal deadpanned.
I squinted at him, shoving big handfuls of my hair away from my face. I had no idea if that was supposed to be a joke or not. You could never tell with Cal.
"Did you want to watch me sleep or something? Because if that's the case, this engagement is so broken."
Cal's lips quirked in what might have been a smile. "Do you have a smart-ass reply for everything?
"If at all possible,yeah. — Rachel Hawkins

Around 1980, I'd been writing short stories, all to no success; so I wrote a fan letter to Stephen King and asked "How long should it take an aspiring writer to either get published or know when to give up?" Lo and behold, King wrote back to me in long hand with blue flair pen on 14-inch paper, purveying a very nice, helpful note; in it he said my letter proved a "command of the language," that I should never give up, and that it would take years to succeed, not months. "That's cold comfort but it's the truth." This was the ultimate encouragement for a young writer to be who didn't know shit about the market. I took Mr. King's advice and actually sold my first novel little more than a year later. I'll always be copiously grateful for this advice, and it's the same advice I give aspiring writers now (along with the story of King's reply!). — Edward Lee

Hjuki and Bil


Hjuki and Bil chased the moon,

With waters from Byrgir's well,

Upon their shoulders they did share,

Simul the pole and Saegr.



'Mani,' they cried and chased the sky,

'From Byrgir whence we came,

To water the earth and water your drink,

And water the seas with rain'.



Hati looked back and Skol ahead,

But Mani gave no reply,

For Hjuki he took, and bent his crook,

And Bil was taken thereafter.



Hjuki and Bil still chase the moon,

From Byrgir whence they came,

To water the earth and water the drink,

And water the seas with rain. — Angela B. Chrysler

You deny our vows. You deny my rights. You abuse my pride and leave me nothing of yourself. You send me from you on some lackey's strength. You betray me at every turn."
Shanna met his glare and hurled a fierce reply. "You took my heart and set your fingers firm around it, then, no doubt delighted at your success, you rent it with unfaithfulness."
"Unfaithfulness is only from a husband. You play the same to me and yet do say I am no spouse."
"You plead you are my husband true and spite the suitors come to woo me."
"Yea!" Ruark raged. "Your suitors flock about your skirts in heated lust, and you yield them more than me."
Shanna paused before him, rage etched upon her face. "You're a churlish cad!"
"They fondle you boldly and you set not their hands away from you."
"A knavish blackguard!"
"You are a married woman!"
"I am a widow!"
"You are my wife!" Ruark shouted to be heard over the rising wind outside. — Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

What said those two souls communicating through the language of the eyes, more perfect than that of the lips, the language given to the soul in order that sound may not mar the ecstasy of feeling? In such moments, when the thoughts of two happy beings penetrate into each other's souls through the eyes, the spoken word is halting, rude, and weak - it is as the harsh, slow roar of the thunder compared with the rapidity of the dazzling lightning flash, expressing feelings already recognized, ideas already understood, and if words are made use of it is only because the heart's desire, dominating all the being and flooding it with happiness, wills that the whole human organism with all its physical and psychical powers give expression to the song of joy that rolls through the soul. To the questioning glance of love, as it flashes out and then conceals itself, speech has no reply; the smile, the kiss, the sigh answer. — Jose Rizal

He made no reply to that, so she continued, gently wiping around his nose, over the broad brow, and up the craggy cheekbones. Not a handsome face. Not pretty or comely. But it was a good face, she thought. Certainly masculine. Certainly one she was attracted to. She paused, swallowing at the thought. She did not know this man. She knew of him - knew that he would without hesitation fling himself into a filthy hole to save her son, knew he was kind to silly dogs and quarrelsome old women, knew he could, with a single, certain look, make her insides heat and melt - but she did not know him. — Elizabeth Hoyt

They then said they would give me pork and lasses; and then inquired what execution some cannon had done, just before fired from the island, if they had not killed and wounded some of our men; and if we did not want help as our surgeons were a pack of ignormauses. I told them in reply, that they had done no other execution with their guns than wunding a dog,(which was the case,) and as they and their surgeons were of the same species of animals, I supposed the poor wunded dog would account it a particular favor to have some of his own kind ot assist him. — Joseph Plumb Martin

The reply to this was that Three took out a small revolver, and this surprised me; for everyone knows that anger is most intense towards those you know: it is lovers and neighbors who kill each other. There's no sense, after all, in behaving that way toward a perfect stranger; where's the satisfaction? No love, no need; no need, no frustration; no frustration, no hate, right? It must have been fear. — Joanna Russ

One day the President and Mrs. Coolidge were visiting a government farm. Soon after their arrival they were taken off on separate tours. When Mrs. Coolidge passed the chicken pens she paused to ask the man in charge if the rooster copulates more than once each day. "Dozens of times, was the reply." "Please tell that to the President," Mrs. Coolidge requested. When the President passed the pens and was told about the roosters, he asked "Same hen every time?" "Oh no, Mr. President, a different one each time." The President nodded slowly, then said, "Tell that to Mrs. Coolidge." — Calvin Coolidge

What is a whore?"
Unsurprisingly, that hadn't been one of the words we had shared over the last span of days. For half a moment I considered lying, but there was no way I could manage it. "He says your mother is a person men pay money to have sex with."
Tempi turned back to the mercenary and nodded graciously. "You are very kind. I thank you. — Patrick Rothfuss

As he lay on his deathbed, Zushya lamented to those gathered around how little he had accomplished during his lifetime. One of his students asked him if the rabbi feared the divine judgment awaiting him. Zushya began to reply, "Yes," but then stopped himself. "No. For when I appear before the Almighty, I will not be asked, 'Why were you not Moses?'or 'Why were you not David?'I will only be asked, 'Why were you not Zushya? — Michael Lodahl

Wherever I go, I'll always see you. You'll always be with me. And there's no happy ending coming here, no way a story that started on a night that's burned into my heart will end the way I wish it could. You're really gone, no last words, and no matter how many letters I write to you, you're never going to reply. You're never going to say good-bye. So I will. Good-bye, Julia. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for being you. — Elizabeth Scott

I think you are a very good tiger," said Dorothy, patting the huge head of the beast. "In that you are mistaken," was the reply. "I am a good beast, perhaps, but a disgracefully bad tiger. For it is the nature of tigers to be cruel and ferocious, and in refusing to eat harmless living creatures I am acting as no good tiger has ever before acted. That is why I left the forest and joined my friend the Cowardly Lion. — L. Frank Baum

A dark flask dangled from the bedpost like a ripe fruit. Someone he could not see was seated beside his bed. He turned his head and craned his neck to no avail. At last he extended a hand toward the visitor; and the visitor took it between his own, which were large and hard and warm. As soon as their hands touched, he knew. You said you weren't going to help, he told the visitor. You said I wasn't to expect help from you, yet here you are. The visitor did not reply, but his hands were clean and gentle and full of healing. — Gene Wolfe

I know you." It's a statement, not a question ... "No," I reply ... "I want to. — M. Leighton

I will not be quiet. I cannot believe you're moving to Greece. That's ... that's insane."
Now hang on a second!
"It's not insane," I shot back.
"It is! Who moves to Greece? Do you know a single soul who's moved to Greece?" He didn't give me a chance to reply before he continued, "No? Me neither. No one moves to Greece. Goes there. Yes. Gets laid. Definitely. Drinks ouzo. Lots of it. Gets a sunburn. Of course! But you don't move there! — Kristen Ashley

Shut up!" Henry says, "You're going to wake up Jerry Rice."
"Jerry Rice?" Carter says, covering his mouth with a hand. I don't think I've ever seen Carter laugh so hard.
"Carter, would you like to be the godfather?" Henry asks. "You know, in case anything happens to me and Woods this week?"
"Charming," Carter says. "I'd be honored. Does JJ get to be godmother?"
"Obviously," I say.
"Can I hold Jerry Rice?" JJ asks. "He's so cute."
"No way, man," I reply. "I don't want to wake that thing up before practice. We'll be late if we have to feed it."
"What does it eat?" Carter asks.
"I have to breast-feed, cause I'm the mom," Henry says, continuing to push the stroller toward the locker room.
"Actually," I say, "It eats a metal rod, made out of, like, lead. So basically, we're learning how to poison babies."
"Radical," JJ says as we approach the gym, — Miranda Kenneally

Why did I laugh tonight? No voice will tell
No God, no demon of severe response
Deigns to reply from heaven or from hell
Then to my human heart I turn at once:
Heart, thou and I are here, sad and alone,
Say, why did I laugh? O mortal pain!
O darkness! darkness! Forever must I moan
To question heaven and hell and heart in vain?
Why did I laugh? I know this being's lease
My fancy to it's utmost blisses spreads
Yet would I on this very midnight cease
And all the world's gaudy ensigns see in shreds
Verse, fame and beauty are intense indeed
But death intenser, death is life's high meed. — John Keats

We may expect answers to prayer, and should not be easy without them any more than we should be if we had written a letter to a friend upon important business, and had received no reply. — Charles Spurgeon

I've given up email. Well, almost. At the weekend I set up one of those auto-reply messages, informing my correspondents that I would no longer be checking my emails, and that instead they might like to call or write, as we used to in the olden days. — Tom Hodgkinson

It's beautiful," I said for what had to be the third time. "It's just awfully ... elaborate."
Lysander made a disgusted sound and threw up his hands. "It should be elaborate! You're meant to be a goddess!"
I had no idea how to reply to that, but Nick saved me. Leaping to his feet, he said, "And you do look like a goddess, Sophie." He took my hand and pulled me off the platform, spinning me. "See? Embrace your goddessness."
Nick may have been a weirdo and a half, but I chuckled. — Rachel Hawkins

Moaning about how his own brilliance disadvantaged him was not a recipe for popularity. Stanley was initially as isolated in high school as Shirley would be in Rochester: "miserably lonely, reading prodigiously, hating everyone, and wishing I had enough courage to talk to girls." One day a boy he recognized from class sat down next to him in the locker room. Stanley, trying to make conversation as he best knew how, asked his classmate if he read Poe. "No, I read very well, thank you," came the reply. Stanley responded huffily that he didn't think puns were very clever. "I don't either," said the other boy, "but they're something I can't help, like a harelip. — Ruth Franklin

Do village girls reply with love letters to the boys? No, village girls invented body and sign language. — Victor Ehikhamenor

In our days many men have lived in this cruel manner, crushed against the bottom, but each for a relatively short period; so that we can perhaps ask ourselves if it is necessary or good to retain any memory of this exceptional human state.
To this question we feel that we have to reply in the affirmative. We are in fact convinced that no human experience is without meaning or unworthy of analysis, and that fundamental values, even if they are not positive, can be deduced from this particular world which we are describing ... — Primo Levi

Always.
In the twilight of the morphling, Peeta whispers the word and I go searching for him. It's a gauzy, violet-tinted world, with no hard edges, and many places to hide. I push through cloud banks, follow faint tracks, catch the scent of cinnamon, of dill. Once I feel his hand on my cheek and try to trap it, but it dissolves like mist through my fingers.
When I finally begin to surface into the sterile hospital room in 13, I remember. I was under the influence of sleep syrup. My heel had been injured after I'd climbed out on a branch over the electric fence and dropped back into 12. Peeta had put me to bed and I had asked him to stay with me as I was drifting off. He had whispered something I couldn't quite catch. But some part of my brain had trapped his single word of reply and let it swim up through my dreams to taunt me now. Always. — Suzanne Collins

In obedience to the feeling of reality, we shall insist that, in the analysis of propositions, nothing "unreal" is to be admitted. But, after all, if there is nothing unreal, how, it may be asked, could we admit anything unreal? The reply is that, in dealing with propositions, we are dealing in the first instance with symbols, and if we attribute significance to groups of symbols which have no significance, we shall fall into the error of admitting unrealities, in the only sense in which this is possible, namely, as objects described. — Bertrand Russell

I could only reply that I think---I theorise--that something--something else--happens to the memory over time. For years you survive with the same loops, the same facts and the same emotions...The events reconfirm the emotions--resentment, a sense of injustice, relief--and vice versa. There seems no way of accessing anything else; the case is closed. But what if, even at a late stage, your emotions relating to those long-ago events and people change? That ugly letter of mine provoked remorse in me...I felt a new sympathy for them--and her. Then, not long afterwards, I began remembering forgotten things. — Julian Barnes

Tibby cried into her soup when it finally came. "I'm scared ... ," she told it. The carrots and peas made no reply, but she felt better for having told them. — Ann Brashares

I couldn't think of a reply except No, so I said, 'Sure. — Olivia Sudjic

Too bad!' the feisty poet responded.
'Yes, too bad!' the stranger agreed, his eye flashing, and went on: 'But here is a question that is troubling me: if there is no God, then, one may ask, who governs human life and, in general, the whole order on earth?'
'Man governs it himself' Homeless angrily hastened to reply to this admittedly none-too-clear question.
'Pardon me,' the stranger responded gently, 'but in order to govern, one needs, after all, to have a precise plan for a certain, at least somewhat decent, length of time. Allow me to ask you, then, how can man govern, if he is not only deprived of the opportunity of making a plan for at least some ridiculously short period -well, say, a thousand years- but cannot even vouch for his own tomorrow? — Mikhail Bulgakov

There was no reply. That in itself was encouraging. They trudged on, Luke stealing admiring glances at her when she wasn't looking. — Alan Dean Foster

In 1931, when Ambedkar met Gandhi for the first time, Gandhi questioned him about his sharp criticism of the Congress (which, it was assumed, was tantamount to criticising the struggle for the Homeland). "Gandhiji, I have no Homeland," was Ambedkar's famous reply. "No Untouchable worth the name will be proud of this land."61 — B.R. Ambedkar

According to the Buddha's teaching the beginning of the life-stream of living beings is unthinkable. THe believer in the creation of life by God may be astonished at this reply. But if you were to ask him 'What is the beginning of God?' he would answer without hesitation 'God has no beginning', and he is not astonished at his own reply. — Walpola Rahula

My brother's death: wise, good, serious, he fell ill while still a young man, suffered for more than a year, and died painfully, not understanding why he had lived and still less why he had to die. No theories could give me, or him, any reply to these questions during his slow and painful dying. — Leo Tolstoy

In our Ashrams of East and West, places of spiritual retreat, we begin with what we call "The Morning of the Open Heart," in which we tell our needs ... We give four or five hours to this catharsis. The reaction of one member, who listened to it for the first time, was: "Good gracious, have we all the disrupted people in the country here?" My reply was: "No, you have a cross section of the church life honestly revealed." In the ordinary church, it is suppressed by respectability, by a desire to a appear better than we really are. — E. Stanley Jones

He said "They were heartily welcome to his poor cottage", and turning to Mr. Didapper, cried out, 'Non mea renidet in domo lacunar.' The beau answered, "He did not understand Welsh"; at which the parson stared and made no reply. — Henry Fielding

Clavo saca clavo. Nothing sacas nothing, you reply. No one will ever be like her. — Junot Diaz

I say that when she appeared, in whatever place, by the hope embodied in that marvelous greeting, for me no enemy remained, in fact I shone with a flame of charity that made me grant pardon to whoever had offended me: and if anyone had then asked me anything my reply would only have been: 'Love', with an aspect full of humility. — Dante Alighieri

Madonna has no equal at getting attention. She often seems to behave like someone who has been under severe restraint and can now say and do whatever she likes without fear of reprisal. She delights in being challenged, in telling more than she planned, in going further than she had intended. She will answer any question because she is genuinely interested in her own reply. A conversation or an interview then can become an opportunity for self-discovery, or just discovery. It's a hearty mix of self-consciousness and self-confidence. It's a type of courage, this free fall into the perplexing public now. — Carrie Fisher

touched her shoulder, she flinched. "I need to do this, Vicky. It's the right thing to do. I need to do everything I can to make sure my boy has his mum." Still no reply. "Please?" "What if you're not back?" "I'll be back." "I'm not so sure about that." "Trust me, Vicky, I'll be back. I promise." The same darkness sat on her features, but something had changed. — Michael Robertson

The Maestro spoke again. "When we are not, at what point do we become?"
I could not reply. For I had grasped no shape of his thoughts. I understood neither what he said nor his intent behind it. — Theresa Breslin

A fool hath no dialogue within himself, the first thought carrieth him without the reply of a second. — E. F. L. Wood, 1st Earl Of Halifax

Should the reader exclaim, I was not conscious of the heinousness of sin nor bowed down with a sense of my guilt when Christ saved me. Then we unhesitatingly reply, Either you have never been saved at all, or you were not saved as early as you supposed. True, as the Christian grows in grace he has a clearer realization of what sin is - rebellion against God - and a deeper hatred and sorrow for it; but to think that one may be saved by Christ whose conscience has never been smitten by the Spirit and whose heart has not been made contrite before God, is to imagine something which has no existence whatever in the realm of fact. — Arthur W. Pink

A brother with small earnings may ask,'Should I also give? My earning are already so small that my family can barely make ends meet.' My reply is, 'Have you ever considered that the very reason your earnings remain so small may be because you spend everything on yourself? If God gave you more, you would only use it to increase your own comfort instead of looking to see who is sick or who has no work at all that you might help them. — George Muller

There was no reply. So Z glanced over again - just as a tear slide down Phury's cheek.
"Ah ... fuck," Z muttered.
"Yeah. Pretty much." Another tear rolled out of Phury's eye. "God ... damn. I'm leaking."
"Okay, brace yourself."
Phury scrubbed his face with his palms. "Why?"
"Because ... I think I'm going to try to hug you. — J.R. Ward

Hello?" No reply. My shoulders sag. "What's the point of a staircase if no one is here to watch my entrance? — Stephanie Perkins

As we ride the elevator Gale finally says "You're still angry."
"And you're still not sorry," I reply.
"I will stand by what I said. Do you want me to lie about it?" he asks.
"No, I want you to rethink it and come up with the right opinion," I tell him. — Suzanne Collins

Reply implicitly upon the old, old gospel. You need no other nets when you fish for men; those your Master has given you are strong enough to hold the little ones. Spread these nets and no others, and you need not fear the fulfillment of His word, 'I will make you fishers of men.' — Charles Spurgeon

You may well ask me why ... I took the time to write [books]. I can only reply that I do not know. There was no why about it. I had to: that was all. — George Bernard Shaw

Do you have some big secret life I don't know about?' Connor jokes. 'Who would be calling you at midnight?'
'I have no idea,' I reply. 'But I'm pretty sure I only have one secret life. — Wendy Mass

My mother phones daily to ask, "Did you just try to reach me?" When I reply no, she adds, "So, if you're not too busy, call me while I'm still alive," ... and hangs up. — Erma Bombeck

Could you do a glamour and turn into something smaller?" I asked it. "Preferably not a chain, since it's no longer the 1990s?" The sword didn't reply (duh), but I imagined it was humming at a more interrogative pitch, like, Such as what? "I dunno. Something pocket-size and innocuous. A pen, maybe?" The sword pulsed, almost like it was laughing. I imagined it saying, A pen sword. That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. — Rick Riordan

Dear sir, you simply begin. There is no magic method of beginning. If a man standing on the edge of a swimming-bath and wanting to jump into the cold water should ask you, "How do I begin to jump?" you would merely reply, "Just jump. Take hold of your nerves, and jump. — Arnold Bennett

And the blood pulses hard, too hard, and some sweet internal assailant comes and quickly shreds the muscles of her shoulders and neck, and soon everything will fall and dissipate, nose and ears and the three gray cells she has left, and with all her strength she tries to calm down, she must stop this, but she is unable to give up these heartbeats, the forgotten precise heartbeats which reply as an echo, and she remembers his hand upon the tablets of her heart, her hand on his chest
feel it, our prisoners are corresponding. But how? She is amazed. How did I let Shaul lead me on like this? Where have I been all evening? But she knows exactly how and where, what she was listening to and what her heart went out to. Look at you, she sighs. No, really, look at you, you and your reaching heart. — David Grossman

Ronan: I miss your taste. Come over.
Her reply was almost immediate.
Annie: I'm working. You'll see me tonight.
Oh, no way was she getting off that easily. I went into full-on sext mode.
Ronan: I want to make you come with my mouth.
Annie: Ronan! I'm at the office and Gerta is RIGHT BESIDE ME!
Ronan: Gotta say, that kinda makes it hotter. — L. H. Cosway

Oceanic malaise. I never saw anyone reading anything more demanding than a comic book. I never heard any youth express an interest in science or art. No one even talked politics. It was all idleness, and whenever I asked someone a question, no matter how simple, no matter how well the person spoke English, there was always a long pause before I got a reply, and I found these Pacific pauses maddening. And there was giggling but no humor - no wit. It was just foolery. — Paul Theroux

And then in response to a reply audible to no one but him, Gwilherm de Vannes, bravest of men, gave one last contented sigh and closed his eyes. — Ariana Franklin

If God has the truth and if man has only an analogy, it follows that he does not have the truth. An analogy of the truth is not the truth; even if man's knowledge is not called an analogy of the truth but an analogical truth, the situation is no better. An analogical truth, except it contain a univocal point of coincident meaning, simply is not the truth at all. In particular (and the most crushing reply of all) if the human mind were limited to analogical truths, it could never know the univocal truth that it was limited to analogies. Even if it were true that the contents of human knowledge are analogies, a man could never know that such was the case; he could only have the analogy that his knowledge was analogical. This theory, therefore, whether found in Thomas Aquinas, Emil Brunner, or professed conservatives is unrelieved skepticism and is incompatible with the acceptance of a divine revelation of truth. — Anonymous

Wesley's theology was, then, largely a theology of reaction. Most of his theological output had polemical overtones, and some works were devoted exclusively to that end. The direction and the intensity of the challenge determined the character and strength of his reply. When this is taken into account, there is no contradiction between his teaching on Baptism and on the Lord's Supper. The Protestant and Catholic strands in Wesley's thought are held together in both cases, but the expression of their relative importance depends on the situation which is being addressed. — John R. Parris

This is a life you do not understand. Yes, your home is in the city, and you have furnished it with vanities, with pictures and books; but you have a wife and a servant and a hundred expenses. Asleep or awake you must keep pace with the world and are never at peace. I have peace. You are welcome to your intellectual pastimes and books and art and newspapers; welcome, too, to your bars and your whisky that only makes me ill. Here am I in the forest, quite content. If you ask me intellectual questions and try to trip me up, then I will reply, for example, that God is the origin of all things and that truly men are mere specks and atoms in the universe. You are no wiser than I. But if you should go so far as to ask me what is eternity, then I know quite as much in this matter, too, and reply thus: Eternity is merely unborn time, nothing but unborn time. — Knut Hamsun

Now, the scene you just saw," I began, pointing to the stage.
"Was about you and T.C.," he concluded, nodding like he already knew.
"What??"
"She pretends she doesn't like him and he pretends he doesn't care."
I had no handy rebuttal to that particular allegation and wouldn't have been able to come up with one if I'd been given a week's notice. So I countered with the only safe reply I could think of.
"The toilet is not working properly. — Steve Kluger

Mystified by the change in their formerly awkward relationship, Christopher asked Bennett what had happened to alter it.
"I told her I was impotent from old war wounds," Bennett said. "That calmed her nerves considerably."
Taken aback, Christopher had brought himself to ask gingerly, "Are you?"
"Hell no," came Bennett's indignant reply. "I only said it because she was so skittish around me. And it worked."
Christopher had given him a sardonic glance. "Are you ever going to tell Audrey the truth?"
A mischievous smile had played at the corners of Bennett's lips. "I may let her cure me soon," he admitted. — Lisa Kleypas

But what I heard was a low insistent murmur, with pauses for reply in which no reply was made. It had a hypnotic quality that I had never heard in any voice: a blend of urgency, cajolery, and extreme tenderness, and with below it the deep vibrato of a held-in laugh that might break out at any moment. It was the voice of someone wanting something very much and confident of getting it, but at the same time willing, no, constrained, to plead for it with all the force of his being. — L.P. Hartley

When I was on the other side, my reply became, "I can't imagine either, but I have no choice." I — Sheryl Sandberg

But silence never shows itself to so great an advantage, as when it is made the reply to calumny and defamation, provided that we give no just occasion for them. — Joseph Addison

Lucky she was, she would reply, with no children to break her back, no husband to break her heart. — Yiyun Li

Well?' Jasper said when Mairelon did not reply. 'Who are you?'
'No, no,' Mairelon said. 'I asked you first. I also, if you recall, asked how you found this place and what you intend to do here, and you haven't told me that, either.'
'We might ask you the same thing,' Jasper retorted.
'You might, but I don't recommend it,' Mairelon said. 'You'll get a reputation as a poor conversationalist if you all can do is repeat what other people say to you. — Patricia C. Wrede

There was a young man who said "God
Must find it exceedingly odd
To think that the tree
Should continue to be
When there's no one about in the quad."

Reply:
"Dear Sir: Your astonishment's odd;
I am always about in the quad.
And that's why the tree
Will continue to be
Since observed by, Yours faithfully, God. — Ronald Knox

Once I admitted the arguments of necessity and force majeure put forward by the less eminent, I couldn't reject those of the eminent. To which they retorted that the surest way of playing the game of the red robes was to leave to them the monopoly of the death penalty. My reply to this was that if you gave in once, there was no reason for not continuing to give in. It seems to me that history has borne me out; today there's a sort of competition who will kill the most. They're all mad over murder and they couldn't stop killing men even if they wanted to. — Albert Camus

Someone who accepts that in the world as currently divided war can become inevitable, and even just, might reply that the photographs supply no evidence, none at all, for renouncing war - except to those form whom the notions of valor and sacrifice have been emptied of meaning and credibility. The destructiveness of war - short of total destruction, which is not war but suicide - is not in itself an argument against waging war unless one thinks (as few people actually do think) that violence is always unjustifiable, that force is always and in all circumstances wrong - wrong because, as Simone Weil affirms in her sublime essay on war, "The Iliad, or The Poem of Force" (1940), violence turns anybody subjected to it into a thing. No, retort those who in a given situation see no alternative to armed struggle, violence can exalt someone subjected to it into a martyr or hero. — Susan Sontag

Son of a bitch! I own your place! I'm your host. Is this how you repay me? By stealing my woman?"
The spirit stopped and turned.
"No one owns me," he said. "I go where I will."
"Yeah well I'll fill in your fucking pond and build a goddamned parking lot! How would you like that? Huh? I'll build condos. I'll tear up the whole damned forest and pave it over!"
The spirit stopped and regarded him. Angus swept the rain from his face as he waited for the spirit's reply, the two of them hovering in the storm. — Elliot Mabeuse

I opened my mouth to reply, but then closed it again. Talking to Mom was a bit like trying to fold a fitted sheet: no matter how hard you try, it always ends up a lumpy, crooked mess. So why even bother? (Page 120) — Marci Lyn Curtis

By contrast, my wife at fifty-two yeas old seems to me just as attractive as the day I first met her. If I were to say this out loud, she would say, 'Douglas, that's just a line. No one prefers wrinkles, no one prefers grey.' To which I'd reply, 'But none of this is a surprise. I've been expecting to watch you grow older ever since we met. Why should it trouble me? It's the face itself that I love, not that face at twenty-eight or thirty-four or fourty-three. It's that face.'
Perhaps she would have liked to hear this but I had never got around to saying it out loud. I had always presumed there would be time and now, sitting on the edge of the bed at four a.m., no longer listening out for burglars, it seemed that it might be too late. — David Nicholls

Someone takes me in his arms. "Hans?" I ask weakly. There is no reply. Only the sensation of long fingers running along the length of my neck, soft and gentle as spring rain. They rest against my collarbones. The caress is light, and somehow reminds me of the flute in my hand. Then I know no more. — S. Jae-Jones

Before I was born my mother was in great agony of spirit and in a tragic situation. She could take no food except iced oysters and champagne. If people ask me when I began to dance, I reply 'In my mother's womb, probably as a result of the oysters and Champagne.' — Isadora Duncan