On His Side Quotes & Sayings

Hands still in the air, Jordan reached back and gently caressed her cheek. Dying for this woman would be no hardship. He'd die a thousand times over if it would take away her pain.
Since he had every intention of living a long and healthy life with Eden at his side, he sincerely hoped Noah was on his way and dying wouldn't be necessary. — Christy Reece

Hadrian dismounted and began unloading Dancer. "How long were we on the road?" He paused to look up at the moon.
"What? Five, six hours? Not a damn word. Getting chilly out, don't you think, Hadrian? The moon looks like a fingernail, ain't that right, Hadrian? The tree looks like a goddamn bear, don't it, Hadrian? Nothing. By the way, in case you haven't noticed, I was attacked by a goshawk and a pig-riding dwarf that shot eggs at me with a sling. I was knocked from my horse and wrestled with the dwarf, the hawk, and the pig for what had to be half an hour. The dwarf kept smashing eggs in my face, and the ruddy pig pinned me down, licking them off. I only got away because the dwarf ran out of eggs. Then the hawk turned into a moth that became distracted by the light of the moon."
Royce shifted to his side, hood up.
"Yeah, well ... thank Maribor and Novron I didn't need your help THAT time. — Michael J. Sullivan

David Perkins,12 a Harvard psychologist who has devoted his career to improving reasoning, found the same thing. He says that thinking generally uses the "makessense" stopping rule. We take a position, look for evidence that supports it, and if we find some evidence - enough so that our position "makes sense" - we stop thinking. But at least in a low-pressure situation such as this, if someone else brings up reasons and evidence on the other side, people can be induced to change their minds; they just don't make an effort to do such thinking for themselves. — Jonathan Haidt

Well look, it seems as though you do have some experience now at least of threefold bliss, luminosity, and emptiness that is such an important feature of the first yoga. On top of that, you are in an excellent position, having had introduction from myself and having all the things on your side that you have going for you. But look out! Your mind is probably not strong enough yet that you can go wandering into town, as a lot of yogi-types would, drinking liquor and womanizing, and trying to incorporate that into your practice. Instead, and until you have advanced far enough that you can actually take these things onto the path, you should be practicising!

- Gampopa to Phagmo Drupa

(Duff T. Gampopa Teaches Essence Mahamudra: Interviews with His Heart Disciples, Dusum Khyenpa and Others. Padma Karpo Translation Committee, 2012. Pp. xxviii-xxix) — Tony Duff

A great Tamil poet, given to decadence and debauchery, once said that the story of his life could serve as an example to the youth on how one should
not live. Having lived, or rather, having sleepwalked for ten years through the desolate wastelands of depression, I survived to reach the other side. I believe that this validates my claim to write this book for you. — Indu Muralidharan

It is obvious that the aspects of mystery which gather round the word "election" are not confined to it alone. An important class of words, such as "calling," "predestination" "foreknowledge," "purpose," "gift," bears this same character; asserting or connoting, in appropriate contexts, the element of the inscrutable and sovereign in the action of the Divine will upon man, and particularly upon man's will and affection toward God. And it will be felt by careful students of the Bible in its larger and more general teachings that one deep characteristic of the Book, which with all its boundless multiplicity is yet one, is to emphasize on the side of man everything that can humble, convict, reduce to worshipping silence (see for typical passages Job 40:3, 1; Ro 3:19), and on the side of God everything which can bring home to man the transcendence and sovereign claims of his almighty Maker. — James Orr

Deputy Grayson?"
He turned to stare down into those soft green eyes, his pulse ratcheting up. "Yes, Miss Smith?"
"Thank you." She touched his arm. "And no matter what happens, I promise I'm not a bad person."
She flung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek....
Warmth rushed through Nash and tingling spread from where Phoebe's lips had touched his cheek. He raised a hand to the spot and stared at the woman, a frown pulling his brows downward.
He hadn't begun the day with the intent of finding a runaway bride stranded on the side of the road. Scenarios like that were only found in those unrealistic romance novels women liked reading.No. He hadn't asked for a kiss. But now that she'd done it, she couldn't undo it, and he couldn't unfeel it. — Elle James

To fill in the silence Tsukuru lowered the needle onto the record again, went back to the sofa, and settled in to listen to the music. This time he tried his best not to think of anything in particular. With his eyes closed and his mind a blank, he focused solely on the music. Finally, as if lured in by the melody, images flashed behind his eyelids, one after the next, appearing, then disappearing. A series of images without concrete form or meaning, rising up from the dark margins of consciousness, soundlessly crossing into the visible realm, only to be sucked back into the margins on the other side and vanish once again. Like the mysterious outline of microorganisms swimming across the circular field of vision of a microscope. — Haruki Murakami

Braith opened her eyes and screamed at what hovered above her, "Gods! Death comes for me!"
The horrifying face of death curled its lip at her and growled, "Well, that's charmin'." Death sat back in its chair, hands resting on its knees. "This face is not me fault, ya know?" Death looked off, thought a moment. Its finger traced one of the deep gouges across its jaw. "This one actually is kind of me fault." She pointed at the other side of her face, where part of her chin was missing. "And this one. A bit of barney at the pub."
...
"That was not death," he whispered. "That was our Great-Aunt Brigida."
"Brigida? Brigida the Foul?" He nodded. "I thought she was dead."
Addolgar shook his head and whispered, "She just won't die. — G.A. Aiken

He rose up over her, his arms straight on either side of her shoulders, and slowly withdrew, his flesh dragging against hers.
He was hot and hard.
She spread her thighs, reveling in this lush feeling, his thrusts blunt and hard now, pounding into her body.
And still he watched her, the green of his eyes slivers of want, demanding something of her. Something she was no longer willing to give, it was just too much.
When at last she came, her breaths hitching and halting, her legs trembling, her sex pulsing with every push of his cock, she watched him. She saw when he gritted his teeth, his lips drawn back in need and pleasure.
He shouted her name, loud in her quiet bedroom, as his big body jerked and plunged and emptied itself in her. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Terrible worm in an iron cocoon, as he was called in an anonymous poem, the knight rode on a saddle rising in a high ridge above the horse's backbone with his feet resting in very long stirrups so that he was virtually standing up and able to deliver tremendous swinging blows from side to side with any one of his armory of weapons. — Barbara W. Tuchman

Elizabeth's fingers slipped around my arm. She stepped forward, her fangs flashing. My breath caught, but not in fear.
Damn Tiffany and her vampire-bite addiction. I shoved the reaction away just in time for Elizabeth's fangs to break skin.
Warmth rushed up my arm, the blaze filling my body, my mind. On my other side, Tatius's hand on my arm was like a cool oasis. I groped for his fingers, locking mine around his, pressing the long side of my body along his, and the fire in my body calmed enough I could still see, still think.
Cool. — Kalayna Price

You deal with me very frankly, and I thank you for it,' said I. 'I will try on my side to be no less honest. I believe these deep duties may lie upon your lordship; I believe you may have laid them on your conscience when you took the oaths of the high office which you hold. But for me, who am just a plain man
or scarce a man yet
the plain duties must suffice. I can think but of two things, of a poor soul in the immediate and unjust danger of a shameful death, and of the cries and tears of his wife that still tingle in my head. I cannot see beyond, my lord. It's the way I am made. If the country has to fall, it has to fall. And I pray God, if this is wilful blindness, that He may enlighten me before too late. — Robert Louis Stevenson

Let me look at you." I pull away and put my hands on his cheeks, examining his face. Blue eyes, of course. And how could I forget that mouth? Thin pink lips with one crooked corner always suggesting a mocking smile. My God, how had I never noticed before how handsome he is? "You need a haircut."
He rubs the side of his thumb over my cheekbone. "You're beautiful. — Cristin Terrill

There is nothing so absurd or ridiculous that has not at some time been said by some philosopher. Fontenelle says he would undertake to persuade the whole public of readers to believe that the sun was neither the cause of light or heat, if he could only get six philosophers on his side. — Oliver Goldsmith

Peanut butter is my favorite food."
Rivers looks at me for a long time, finally shaking his head. He moves to my side, reclining next tome. "Peanut butter is not food."
"Then what is it?"
"I don't know. A condiment. Like ketchup or mustard."
"Really, Rivers? Do you put peanut butter on a hamburger?"
"Do you eat it plain?" he shoots back.
"Yes."
"Okay, do most people eat it plain? — Lindy Zart

The word "utopia" has two meanings. It means both "good place" and "nowhere". That's the way it should be. The happiest places, I think, are the ones that reside just this side of paradise. The perfect person would be insufferable to live with; likewise, we wouldn't want to live in the perfect place, either. "A life time of happiness! No man could bear it: It would be hell on earth," wrote George Bernard Shaw, in his play Man and Superman. — Eric Weiner

People really understand very little of one another. Sometimes when I speak to him, my Cid looks very hard and straight into my face as if in search of something (a city on a map?) like someone who has tumbled off a star. But he's not the one who feels alien - ever, I think. He lives in a small country of hope, which is his heart. Like Sokrates he fails to understand why travel should be such a challenge to the muscles of the heart, for other people. Around every bend of the road is a city of gold, isn't it?
I am the kind of person who thinks no, probably not. And we walk, side by side, in different countries. — Anne Carson

Your men?" His face took on an expression of deep confusion. "But you came alone. He said you would come alone." His sword fell to his side as he stumbled back a few steps, his gaze distant, unfocused. "He said you would come alone — Anthony Ryan

The anger washed away in the knowledge that I was a hypocrite. I don't know how much of it showed on my face, but Jean-Claude cocked his head to one side. "Thoughts are flying across your face, ma petite, but what thoughts?" I stared up at him. "I think I owe you an apology." His eyes widened. "Then this is a truly historic occasion. What are you apologizing for?" I — Laurell K. Hamilton

You're going to take him on by yourself?" Curran's voice asked at my side. He sounded amused.
"If I wait any longer, I won't go in," I said. My knees tembled. My teeth chattered in my mouth.
He grabbed me and kissed me. The kiss sent a wave of heat from my lips all the way to my toes. Curran's eyes laughed. "For luck," he whispered, his breath a hot cloud on my ear.
I broke free and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. "When we're done with the upir," I growled, "I'll give you that fight you've been wanting."
"Much better," Curran said.
"If you lovebirds are done," Nick said. "Get out of my way. — Ilona Andrews

He opened the gun box, lifted out the sections of his own gun, for comparison. They slid together with well-oiled clicks. Laying the two guns side by side, he experienced a momentary lapse of faith. They looked nothing like a pair. His own gun looked fat and polished. It almost breathed as it lay on the slab. Bertie's gun looked like a sketch, or a preliminary model done in cheap materials to get the shape right and then discarded. — Helen Simonson

Do you know how hard it is for me to sit on the other side of this booth and not reach across and pull you against me? Just to make sure you really are alive?" he asked, and my breath caught at the raw honesty in his words. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

The mind is confused? Is it not so? Take time, mon ami. You are agitated; you are excited - it is but natural. Presently, when we are calmer, we will arrange the facts, neatly, each in his proper place. We will examine - and reject. Those of importance we will put on one side; those of no importance, pouf! blow them away! — Agatha Christie

I close my eyes to escape the burn. His eyes are so hot right now, I feel like I could be incinerated. The intense heat pouring off his body makes me think of Dax's cool touch. I'm sure it could kill, too, but it would be a quiet death, lulling you to sleep, promising life is better on the other side. Turner's touch, it simply sears and sizzles, melting me into nothing. Quick, painful, intense. I love it even though I don't want to. — C.M. Stunich

I asked you a question. What are you doing here?"
Resting his elbows on the side of the tub, he smiled lazily. She hated it when he smiled lazily. "Waiting for the bubbles to evaporate," he said. — Sandra Hill

The newly created Darth Vader flexes his Force-muscle as the Emperor's enforcer to maintain order and obedience in a galaxy reeling from civil war and the destruction of the Jedi Order. To the galaxy at large, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker - the Chosen One - died on Coruscant during the siege of the Jedi Temple. And, to some extent, the was true - Anakin was dead. But from the site of Anakin Skywalker's last stand - on the molten surface of the planet Mustafa, where he sought to destroy his friend and former master, Obi-Wan Kanobi - a fearsome spectre in black has risen. Once the most powerful Knight ever known to the Jedi order he is not a disciple of the dark side, a lord of the dreaded Sith, and the avenging right hand of the galaxy's ruthless new Emperor. Seduced, deranged and destroyed by the machinations of the Dark Lord Sidious, Anakin Skywalker is dead ... and Darth Vader lives ... — James Luceno

She is the person I ran to when I got my period; the one who helped me knit back together my first broken heart; the hand I would reach for in the middle of the night when I could no longer remember which side our father parted his hair on, or what it sounded like when our mother laughed. No matter what she is now, before all that, she was my built-in best friend. — Jodi Picoult

No sane creator, setting out from scratch to design a flat-fish, would have conceived on his drawing board the absurd distortion of the head needed to bring both eyes round to one side. — Richard Dawkins

Austin stood. "All right, I will." He walked to the door and stopped, his hand on the latch. He gazed back over his shoulder. "That woman you love ... Do I know her?"
Houston forced himself to meet his brother's gaze. The boy only knew one woman, if he didn't count the whores in Dusty Flats. "Yeah, you do."
"She never left your side, not for one minute."
"She should have."
"Well, I'm not learned in these matters, but I'd like to think if a woman ever loved me as much as that one loves you ... I'd crawl through hell to be by her side. — Lorraine Heath

Harry did not really listen. A warmth was spreading through him that had nothing to do with the sunlight; a tight obstruction in his chest seemed to be dissolving. He knew that Ron and Hermione were more shocked than they were letting on, but the mere fact that they were still there on either side of him, speaking bracing words of comfort, not shrinking from him as though he were contaminated or dangerous, was worth more than he could ever tell them. — J.K. Rowling

Yes,I'm seeing someone," Nick said. Standing beside them but hardly acknowledging them.He was watching for my answer on his phone.
"For how long?" a woman asked.
"Four years," I heard him say.
"Aww!" I squealed. Then I turned to Chloe. "Do I want to be in People?"
"No," she said firmly. "Nick is ot."
Gavin frowned and poked her in the side. "Hey."
She ducked away from his finger. "Facts are facts. Nick is hot,and when girls read People and see he's dating you,they will call you a skank ho. You and I have mooned over Prince William. We know the deal. — Jennifer Echols

That is where consensus-building begins-with the idea that you have your own truth, but that the negotiator on the other side of the table has his own truth as well. — Harri Holkeri

By now she has learned that her husband likes his food on the salty side, that his favorite thing about lamb curry is the potatoes, and that he likes to finish his dinner with a small final helping of rice and dal. — Jhumpa Lahiri

We ordered food a few hours ago and worked through dinner. I had pasta with chicken, while
Kate preferred a turkey club with fries on the side. Much as I hate to admit it, I'm impressed.
Obviously, she doesn't subscribe to the "I can only eat salads in front of the opposite sex" rule of
thumb a lot of chicks swear by. Who gave women that idea? Like a guy's going to say to his friend,
"Dude, she was one fugly chick, but once I saw her chomping that romaine, I just had to nail her. — Emma Chase

As we approached the shop, a dog began to bark. Seconds later, a furry drool-bedecked face pressed against the lower portion of the glass door, his whole butt shaking from how hard he wagged his tail.
"What's gotten into you, Dexter?" Tyler muttered. Then he came closer and saw Bones and me on the other side of the glass.
Oh HELL no, bolted across his mind.
"Is that any way to greet old friends?" Bones asked dryly.
Tyler drew his shoulders back, further stretching ther strained fabric of his shirt.
"That's not a greeting, sugar. It's my answer to whatever you've come here to ask me to do. — Jeaniene Frost

Bush and bin Laden are really on the same side: the side of faith and violence against the side of reason and discussion. Both have implacable faith that they are right and the other is evil. Each believes that when he dies he is going to heaven. Each believes that if he could kill the other, his path to paradise in the next world would be even swifter. The delusional "next world" is welcome to both of them. This world would be a much better place without either of them. — Richard Dawkins

Want to go to a wedding with me in Ohio?"
Rolling to my side, Kellan sat up on his elbow. "Anyone I know getting married?" he asked, amusement in his voice.
Smiling, I shrugged again. "Just some annoying wishy-washy girl that half the world hates. — S.C. Stephens

Chloe. Always Chloe with him and his brother. I know I sound like a whiny brat when I complain, but I think I have a good reason. I'd just discovered that I was a witch and my mother was a bitch - the murderous kind. I was now on the run with three kids who didn't want me along.
No matter how hard I tried to keep up and help out, the guys only cared about Chloe. If I ran in front of this bus to push her to safety, they'd race to her side to see if she was okay. Probably give me crap for bruising her when I shoved her out of the way. — Kelley Armstrong

The patient man is merry indeed ... The jailers that watch him are but his pages of honour, and his very dungeon but the lower side of the vault of heaven. He kisseth the wheel that must kill him; and thinks the stairs of the scaffold of his martyrdom but so many degrees of his ascent to glory. The tormentors are weary of him. the beholders have pitty on him, all men wonder at him; and while he seems below all men, below himself, he is above nature. He hath so overcome hlmself that nothing can conquer him. — Thomas Adams

To wake up on a gloriously bright morning, in a tent pitched beneath spruce trees, and to look out lazily and sleepily for a moment from the open side of the tent, across the dead camp-fire of the night before, to the river, where the light of morning rests and perhaps some early-rising[240] native is gliding in his birch canoe; to go to the river and freshen one's self with the cold water, and yell exultingly to the gulls and hell-divers, in the very joy of living; or to wake at night, when you have rolled in your blankets in the frost-stricken dying grass without a tent, and to look up through the leaves above to the dark sky and the flashing stars, and hear far off the call of a night bird or the howl of a wolf: this is the poetry, the joy of a wild and roving existence, which cannot come too often — Josiah Edward Spurr

A woman with long, blonde hair stood for a moment on the other side of the door. She looked similar to his date. Was she entering or leaving the coffee house?
Before Paul could confirm her identity or stand and run after her, she strode away and disappeared in the crowd. — Cheryl Sterling

She did understand, or at least she understood that she was supposed to understand. She understood, and said nothing about it, and prayed for the power to forgive, and did forgive. But he can't have found living with her forgiveness all that easy. Breakfast in a haze of forgiveness: coffee with forgiveness, porridge with forgiveness, forgiveness on the buttered toast. He would have been helpless against it, for how can you repudiate something that is never spoken? She resented, too, the nurse, or the many nurses, who had attended my father in the various hospitals. She wished him to owe his recovery to her alone - to her care, to her tireless devotion. That is the other side of selflessness: its tyranny. — Margaret Atwood

You just asked me to marry you," he said, still waiting for me to admit some kind of trickery.
"I know."
"That was the real deal, you know. I just booked two tickets to Vegas for noon tomorrow. So that means we're getting married tomorrow night."
"Thank you."
His eyes narrowed. "You're going to be Mrs. Maddox when you start classes on Monday."
"Oh," I said, looking around. Travis raised an eyebrow.
"Second thoughts?"
"I'm going to have some serious paperwork to change next week."
He nodded slowly, cautiously hopeful. "You're going to marry me tomorrow?"
I smiled. "Uh huh"
"You're serious?"
"Yep."
"I fucking love you!" He grabbed each side of my face, slamming his lips against mine. "I love you so much, Pigeon," he said, kissing me over and over. — Jamie McGuire

Aw, angel," he said, shaking his head as he looked around. "I get you now."

He got me? What the heck was that supposed to mean? "What?"

"You know, my grandmother is a big gardener," he said, tucking the flat of cat food under one arm and running his hand over the back of my sofa.

"That's wonderful. Now get out of my apartment."

"She's won awards 'round here for her roses," he went on his weird speech. His attention suddenly turned back toward me, pinning me into place. "She used to tell me that the prettiest roses have the biggest thorns. It's a defense mechanism. So," he said, coming closer toward me and running his finger across the side of my jaw, "I get you, Amelia Alvarado. — Jessica Gadziala

But he wasn't done with her. Before she could catch her breath, he pulled out, flipped her over, and yanked her onto all fours. Rearing up behind her, he bit her again, on the other side, and then he was in her once more, taking her from the rear, one hand running up between her slapping breasts and locking on the base of her throat, the other planted on the floor, holding them both up. She was facing the fire, and her vision swung wildly with each of his pounding thrusts - the flames jumping this way and that, her hair flying around until some lashed into her open mouth. At some point, her upper body just collapsed onto the blanket, her sex up in the air, his for the taking as he drilled her over and over again, coming so many times, he coated her with his marking scent. Elise forgot how many orgasms she had. All she cared about was that he never, ever stop. — J.R. Ward

Fumi: So, what happened Asami-chan?

Asami: Onii-chan's(big brother)... always said mean stuff and he's always been cold. He couldn't get along well with his ex-girlfriend and I thought that he wouldn't be able to get along with anyone else either. I'd always thought that he'd always be by my side. But it's different with Haruna! He's getting along so well with her! And on top of that, they might be OO and XX and they might get married!! He won't be only my Onii-chan anymore!!

Fumi: Wow! You really approve of Haruna-chan, huh? I see!! Asami-chan really likes Haruna-chan!!

Asami: Fumi-kun... were you even listening...? — Kazune Kawahara

I swore I wasn't going to rescue any more damsels in distress," Day muttered.
To his surprise, Barbara gave him a lopsided grin, banging on the side of the trailer to make it produce a door. "What makes you think she isn't rescuing you?" she asked, and stomped inside without a backward look. — Deborah Blake

Evidently neither cats nor dogs, nor other animals that listen to human music, were constituted for the appreciation of it, for it is not of the slightest use to them in the struggle for existence. Moreover, they and their organs of hearing were much older than man and his music. Their power of appreciating music is therefore an uncontemplated side-faculty of a hearing apparatus which has become on other grounds what we find it to be. So it is, I believe, with man. He has not acquired his musical hearing as such, but has received a highly developed organ of hearing by a process of selection, because it was necessary to him in the selective process ; and this organ of hearing happens also to be adapted to listening to music. — August Weismann

I was just really appalled, and I really kept quiet until I saw the governor [Rick Perry] get on and repeat the same words that the prosecution had used in the penalty phase: that he [Todd Willingham] was a monster. And that got me to get on to the computer and connect with some of the media and say: "I have his letters. He wasn't a monster. He was a caring individual." Let them see another side. — Elizabeth Gilbert

Scott, deaf and enchanted in the gallery, and the whole row of pretty heads at his side saw the concerted rush on Lymond: his assailants downed him without malice and eighteen stones of Molly planted themselves on his chest. "A throw!" said Molly, and Lymond, half buried, gave a choked whoop of laughter and raised a defeated hand in signal to Tammas. — Dorothy Dunnett

There's no bright side," Phineas objected. "The man's got no gonads."
"But she hit the target," Carlos said.
"The man has got no gonads," Phineas repeated forcefully.
"It was an accident." Caitlyn set her gun on the counter. "I was aiming for his chest."
"You blew his pecker to Connecticut," Phineas muttered.
She grinned. "I think you have issues, Phineas. It was only a paper pecker. — Kerrelyn Sparks

To picture Roosevelt as a man at this time in his life - he felt he was old. He was 53 years old, feeling lonely and irrelevant. And all of a sudden, he takes on this campaign, and it becomes a crusade for popular government. And he ultimately goes on fire in the campaign, but he discovers he's up against all the old machine tactics that he used to use himself, and he has to let the public get involved. And he energizes the public through the most extreme kind of rhetoric, which truly brings him into the streets and onto his side. — Geoffrey Cowan

Conversion, then, involves repentance (turning from sin and unbelief) and faith (trusting in Christ alone for salvation).9 They are really two sides of the same coin. One side is tails - turn tail on the fruits of unbelief. The other side is heads - head straight for Jesus and trust His promises. You can't have the one without the other any more than you can face two ways at once or serve two masters. — John Piper

I know Ty's not all there." Nick said, tapping his temple with a finger. "He has always been a step away from the wrong path. One screw comes loose, and he's gone. The only thing keeps him on the side of the righteous is his loyalty. His sense of purpose. You take that from him? And you're looking into the eyes of a monster. — Abigail Roux

Shaking his head, Tobin turned back to his picnic spread, and there, sitting on the end of the checkered cloth, and helping himself to one of Tobin's cupcakes, was a tiny brown squirrel.
Tobin blinked in surprise.
The squirrel was exceptionally bold. He made absolutely no move to leave, despite Tobin's frown, and merely stuffed more pink icing into his mouth with one tiny paw. His ears were tufted into small points, and he tilted his head to the side as he surveyed Tobin with bright, inquisitive eyes.
Tobin had to laugh. "Well, I suppose I don't mind sharing with you, little guy, even if you did eat one of my cupcakes," Tobin chuckled to himself.
"I should hope so. Frankly, I'm surprised that you thought you could even eat five cupcakes all by yourself," the squirrel replied airily. — R.S. Mollison-Read

He looked up as the party emerged and nickered a soft hello to his master, who was dressed in an unfamiliar green cloak and had dirt plastered on his face. Halt glanced at him, brow furrowed, and silently mouthed the words 'shut up'. Abelardshook his mane, which was as close as a horse could come to shruging, and turned away.
'My horse recognized me,' Halt said accusingly out of the side of his mouth to Horace.
Horace glanced at the small shagging horse, standing beside his own massive battlehorse.
'Mine didn't,' he replied. 'So that's a fifty-fifty result.'
'I think I'd like odds better than that,' Halt replied.
Horace suppressed a grin. 'Don't worry. He can probably smell you.'
'I can smell myself,' Halt replied acerbically. 'I smell of tea and soot.'
Horace thought it was wiser not to reply to that. — John Flanagan

Again, stepping nearer, he besought her with another tremulous eager call upon her name.
'Margaret!'
Still lower went the head; more closely hidden was the face, almost resting on the table before her. He came close to her. He knelt by her side, to bring his face to a level with her ear; and whispered-panted out the words:
'Take care. - If you do not speak - I shall claim you as my own in some strange presumptuous way. — Elizabeth Gaskell

Suddenly it seemed that all that had been learnt in every English childhood of the wildness of English magic might still be true, and even now on some long-forgotten paths, behind the sky, on the other side of the rain, John Uskglass might be riding still, with his company of men and fairies. Most — Susanna Clarke

According to a group of New England college students, writing in the year 1920, an alien was the following:
"A person hostile to his country."
"A person against the government."
"A person who is on the opposite side."
"A native of an unfriendly country."
"A foreigner at war."
"A foreigner who tries to do harm to the country he is in."
"An enemy from a foreign land."
"A person against a country." etc ...
Yet the word alien is an unusually exact legal term, far more exact than words like sovereignty, independence, national honor, rights, defense, aggression, imperialism, capitalism, socialism, about which we readily take sides "for" or "against. — Walter Lippmann

Without Thomas Jefferson and his Declaration of Independence, there would have been no American revolution that announced universal principles of liberty. Without his participation by the side of the unforgettable Marquis de Lafayette, there would have been no French proclamation of The Rights of Man. Without his brilliant negotiation of the Louisiana treaty, there would be no United States of America. Without Thomas Jefferson and James Madison, there would have been no Virginia Statute on Religious Freedom, and no basis for the most precious clause of our most prized element of our imperishable Bill of Rights - the First Amendment to the United States Constitution. — Christopher Hitchens

O'Shaughnessy is hitting Denholt on the side of his head with his free arm, great, walloping, pile-driver blows. The two of them stagger together, like partners in a crazy dance. Glass is breaking all around them. Gray smoke from the six shots, pink-and-white dust from the chipped brick-and-plaster walls, swirl around them in a rainbow haze. Something vividly green flares up from one of the overturned retorts, goes right out again. O'Shaughnessy tears the emptied gun away, flings it off somewhere. More breaking glass, and this time a tart pungent smell that makes the nostrils sting. The crunch of pulverized tube glass underfoot makes it sound as if they were scuffling in sand or hard-packed snow. ("Jane Brown's Body") — Cornell Woolrich

Beth was laughing at his story when Bobby ran up to her. She lifted her plate out of harm's way and smiled at Kevin over his nephew's head as the boy put a hand on either side of her waist. "Hey, cuz!" Bobby yelled at her stomach. "What does a snowman eat for breakfast? Snowflakes! — Shannon Stacey

(Carmine Crocco) A farm-labourer and cowherd, had joined the Bourbon army, killed a comrade in a brawl, deserted and lived as an outlaw for ten years. He joined the liberal insurgents in 1860 in the hope of an amnesty for his past offences, and subsequently became the most formidable guerilla chief and leader of men on the Bourbon side. — Eric Hobsbawm

Heavily and hypnotically,with her soul flattening itself back like the ears of a hissing cat,Kizzy leaned in and drank of Jack Husk's full,moist mouth,and his red,red lips were hungry against hers,drinking her in return.Their eyes closed.Fingers clutched at collars and hair,at the picnic blanket,at the grass.And as they sank down,pinning their shadows beneath them,the horizon tipped on its side,and slowly,thickly,hour by hour,the day spilled out and ebbed away.
It was Kizzy's first kiss, and maybe it was her last, and it was delicious. — Laini Taylor

Scott could feel the contents of his stomach flip over and over on themselves. He turned to the side and retched, frothy yellow bile spilled out onto the newspaper covered floor, filling the room with the putrid stench of previously ingested alcohol.
'Look's like someone can't hold their drink,' McBlane said, and Dominic and Shugg laughed.
Scott was still staring at the steam rising from his evacuated stomach contents as he heard the hammer fall. The dull crack of bone splintering under its weight. — R.D. Ronald

Don't do that? This is your sage advice?"
"Yeah." He burped and blew it out the side of his mouth. "Sorry, the burritos we had for lunch are kinda comin' back on me. — Mary Calmes

Then Circled by the golden light of God's Presence and His promise, Paul and Sierra walked side by side along the trail that lead tward the campus and on tward their Future — Robin Jones Gunn

The most basic definition of a story is 'Somebody wants something and something's in his way,' and I'm more likely to be engaged if I at least think I know what those two 'somethings' are. They can be simple, they can be complex, but - particularly if you're a beginning writer - I'd rather you err on the side of revealing too much than too little. — Mark Waid

Oh my fucking - " Ruxs heaved underneath him, taking the burn and stretch like the man Green knew he was. "Fuck!" "Just as tight as I knew this virgin ass would be." Green panted in Ruxs ear. He hadn't moved, knew if he did it would be over before it even began. "Fuck you," Ruxs grunted. "Augh. Do something, Chris." "I'm gonna make you feel real good, baby." Green slowly pulled out, just halfway, and slid back in again. "You trust me don't you?" "I did. Before you lied and said this fuckin' felt good." Ruxs turned a little, positioning most of his weight on side, making Green maneuver with him. Green — A.E. Via

Jack?"
"Hmmm?"
"We are going to be all right, aren't we? I mean, the two of us?"
He groaned as he eased his feet onto the bed. He rolled on his side to face Mabel, reached to her, and ran his hand down her unbraided hair, again and again, without speaking. Mabel saw tears in the corners of his eyes, and she propped herself on an elbow. She leaned to him and kissed him on his closed wet eyelids.
"We will, Jack. We will be all right," and she cradled his head in the crook of her arm and let him cry. — Eowyn Ivey

The pallbearers lowered the casket onto a metal stand, then moved to their seats. Thomas, James's brother, slid into the front pew beside Claire, who was dressed in a black suit with her silver hair coiled as tight and rigid as her posture. Phil, James's cousin, moved into the pew to stand on her other side. He turned and looked at me, dipping his head in acknowledgment. I swallowed, inching back until my calves pressed into the wood bench. Claire — Kerry Lonsdale

Vimes was already lost. Oh, there was the sun, but that was just a direction. He could feel it on the side of his face.
And the camel rocked from side to side. There was no real way of judging distance, except by haemorrhoids. — Terry Pratchett

He pulled her mirror out of his other pocket. "You left your mirror on my table." He extended it toward her.
"You can keep it," she said quietly. "We have lots of mirrors here."
"I'll keep it, then."
"Good. I'm glad."
He'd never rushed headlong into a battle, but he figured this time, it might be the best approach. "I spent a lot of time studying it. The back is real pretty with all the gold carving. Took me about an hour to gather up the courage to turn it over and look at the other side."
"And what did you see?"
" Aman who loves you more than life itself."
Closing her eyes, she dropped her chin to her chest.
"I wouldn't blame you if you hated me. I haven't held your feelings as precious as I should have."
"I don't hate you," she whispered hoarsely. "I tried to, but I can't."
-Houston and Amelia — Lorraine Heath

As a child, during the war, I drew Spitfires and Messerschmitts. With Spot, I found that I had designed a fuselage! His spot is on his side, the roundel marking of an English fighter plane, and the color bar of his tail is the color stripes of a plane's rudder. — Eric Hill

He stopped moving for the space of a heartbeat. He bent his head to her shoulder and rocked his hips, pressing inside her. His hair fell forward around either side of his face, a frame of black, silky where it brushed her collarbone. "I am in paradise." His hips rocked again.
She closed her eyes tight. She felt his lips on her cheek and then on her eyelids, placing gentle kisses. — Carolyn Jewel

Our desire to segregate the mind's cogitations from the body's exertions reflects the grip that Cartesian dualism still holds on us. When we think about thinking, we're quick to locate our mind, and hence our self, in the gray matter inside our skull and to see the rest of the body as a mechanical life-support system that keeps the neural circuits charged. More than a fancy of philosophers like Descartes and his predecessor Plato, this dualistic view of mind and body as operating in isolation from each other appears to be a side effect of consciousness itself. Even though the bulk of the mind's work goes on behind the scenes, in the shadows of the unconscious, we're aware only of the small but brightly lit window that the conscious mind opens for us. And our conscious mind tells us, insistently, that it's separate from the body. — Nicholas Carr

Miranda!"
"What?" She batted him with her pillow.
"Hoyden! Are you drunk?"
"I don't think so. I'm not sure. They never gave us wine at Yardley. I feel happy."
"Happy?" He grabbed a corner of the pillow as she whacked him again with it. "Stop it!"
"You're too serious, Winterley!" She reached for another pillow. "I will beat you until you smile!"
He ducked out of his chair with a rakish grin as she swung at him, then tackled her flat on the soft bed, both of them laughing.
"You are ... impossible," he chided with a gentle sigh as he braced his elbows on either side of her head. He traced her cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs.
"Difficult, but not impossible." She wrapped her arms around him, relishing the weight of him atop her, the smoothness of his bare chest against her bodice. "It all depends on who's trying."
"That sounded distinctly like an invitation," he murmured. — Gaelen Foley

Would you not like to fill up a whole note-book at the street crossings when you see a forger borne along upon the necks of six porters, and exposed to view on this side and on that in his almost naked litter, and reminding you of the lounging Maecenas: one who by help of a scrap of paper and a moistened seal has converted himself into a fine and wealthy gentleman? — Juvenal

She slapped his shoulder. "You... you go down to breakfast, Gram. I'll be there as soon as I shower and dress."
"Have you been exercising? You sound out of breath."
Creighton buried his face in a pillow, his body shaking with laughter.
Gram knocked on the door. "Do you have a man in there with you?"
"No, Gram..."
He pushed himself off the pillow and sat, his large hands sweeping dark hair away from his face. "Aye, she bloody well does."
Clapping sounded from the other side of the door followed by Gram's bellowing "Born to be Wild. — Vonnie Davis

No matter what happens," she said quietly, "I want to thank you."
Chaol tilted his head to the side. "For what?"
Her eyes stung but she blamed it on the fierce wind and blinked away the dampness. "For making my freedom mean something. — Sarah J. Maas

Show and prove to the world, to angels and to God, that you are on the side of truth and right, of honesty, purity and integrity, and that you are for God in His kingdom. — John Taylor

Well, not to sound puffed up in my own conceit... I think we make a mighty fine couple," she teasingly echoed.
He lifted his head and stood straight, chest pushed out, making himself appear larger. "You don't think that I'm a mite on the tall side?"
She eyed him, her eyes sparkling. "A mite? — Debra Holland

I'm Irish as hell: Kelly on one side, Shanley on the other. My father had been born on a farm in the Irish Midlands. He and his brothers had been shepherds there, cattle and sheep, back in the early 1920s. I grew up surrounded by brogues and Irish music, but stayed away from the old country till I was over 40. I just couldn't own being Irish. — John Patrick Shanley

Whoa." Adrian leapt up and rushed to Jill's side. "You need to let this go. What, are you going to start a fight with some girl?"
Reed turned his glare on Adrian. "Stay out of this."
"The hell I will! You're crazy."
If anyone had asked me to make up a list of people most likely to risk a fight in defense of a lady's honor, Adrian Ivashkov would have been low on that list. Yet there he stood, face hard and hand sitting protectively on Jill's shoulder. I was in awe. And impressed. — Richelle Mead

I had to laugh. "Come on, Scooby Doo. Let see what're made of."
Ank scoffed dryly. "I'm made of chicken shit." he bobs his head to the side. "That's what I'm made of. — Khalia Hades

He squinted at her. He recalled the tears in her eyes that had not fallen into her teacup. No, it wasn't a revelation. Not even to him. Yet, this was the same woman who had stolen a camel right out from under the Anti-Zionist army's nose. She'd taken his hand, thrown herself down a sand dune on a dare, and then beaten him back up it. She'd glared at him and refused to part from his side. A coward?
"Never," he said again. — V.S. Carnes

I've been arguing on the side of a dirt road with a petulant singer who's wearing a guitar on his back. This entire scene is a mess, and maybe we're a mess, too. But it's still him and still me, and there's still that feeling of possibility - the one that sparks like a Roman candle inside me as his lips touch mine. And it's a start. — Emery Lord

The way the Rider flourished his sword afterward- spinning it in a quick circle by his side- suddenly seemed familiar to Eragon, as did all his preceding swordsmanship. He stared with growing horror at his enemy's hand-and-a-half sword, then back up at the eye slits of his mirrored helm, and shouted, I know you!
He threw himself at the Rider, trapping both swords between their bodies, hooked his fingers underneath the helm, and ripped it off. And there in the center of the plateau, on the edge of the Burning Plains of Allagaesia, stood Murtagh. — Christopher Paolini

...erosion control in Japan is like a game of chess. The forest
engineer, after studying his eroding valley, makes his first move, locating and building
one or more check dams. He waits to see what Nature's response is. This determines the
forest engineer's next move, which may be another dam or two, an increase in the former
dam, or the construction of side retaining walls. After another pause for observation, the
next move is made and so on until erosion is checkmated." (An Agricultural Testament) — Albert Howard

Mr. Galliano wore his big top-hat very much on one side of his head, so much so that Jimmy really wondered why it didn't fall off.

'When Galliano wears his hat on one side the circus is taking lots of money,' said Lotta to him. 'But when you see him wearing it straight up, then you know things are going badly. He gets into a bad temper then, and I hide under the caravan when I see him coming. I've never seen his hat so much on one side before!'

Jimmy thought that circus ways were very extraordinary. Even hats seemed to share in the excitement! — Enid Blyton

A dog is a pitiful thing, depending wholly on companionship, and utterly lost except in packs or by the side of his master. Leave him alone, and he does not know what to do except bark and howl and trot about till sheer exhaustion forces him to sleep. — H.P. Lovecraft

The absence of life is not the same as material privation: we will never again see the same soul occupying the same space. The world refers to them as pets, but that is what we do, not really what they are. Affection pays for itself in proportion to the love we offer, and if the love we lavished on him was any indication, we are inconsolable. The suffering is more on our side now, for he led an enormously happy and productive life, and we are left to remember and agonize. It is all wretchedness now. Grief is the currency for death, leaving us in emotional debt perhaps forever, but love is the tax we happily pay toward the investment of another's company, and we would all rather pay it and be happy and poor than be rich in a friendless life. He is gone, and we are now beholden to him, but we are so much happier for his having been here than we deserve to be.
On the death of Ted, beloved cat — Michelle Franklin

You're no fun at all, you boys, you do nothing but worry. You need to think on the sunny side o' this. The worst that can happen is that Bethod don't show!'
'The worst?' Dogman stared at him. 'You sure? What about if Bethod does come, and his Carls kick your wall over like a pile o' turds and kill every last one of us?'
Crummock's brow furrowed. He frowned down at the ground. He squinted up at the clouds. 'True,' he said, breaking out in a smile. 'That is worse. You got a fast mind, lad.'
Dogman gave a long sigh, and stared down into the valley. — Joe Abercrombie

Amedeo loved thick tomes, and in tackling them he felt the physical pleasure of undertaking a great task. Weighing them in his hand, thick, closely printed, squat, he would consider with some apprehension the number of pages, the length of the chapters, then venture into them, a bit reluctant at the beginning, without any desire to perform the initial chore of remembering the names, catching the drift of the story; then he would entrust himself to it, running along the lines, crossing the grid of the uniform page, and beyond the leaden print the flame and fire of battle appeared, the cannonball that, whistling through the sky, fell at the feet of Prince Andrei, and the shop filled with engravings and statues where Frederic Moreau, his heart in his mouth, was to meet the Arnoux family. Beyond the surface of the page you entered a world where life was more alive than here on this side ... — Italo Calvino

Two famous happy warriors - Reagan and his political soulmate, British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher - knew they were fighting their own ideological and external wars. But they did so with the sunny dispositions and positive outlooks of those who knew they were on the right side of history. — Monica Crowley

Christ is on both sides: he holdeth up, and throweth down, in one and the same act; he denieth the woman to be his, and is on her side to grace her, to believe that he is her's. Christ putteth his child away, and he desireth that his child should not be put away from him; he is for Jacob in his wrestling, and as if he were against him, saith, 'Let me alone.' Christ here doth both hold and draw, oppose and defend at once. — Samuel Rutherford

River doesn't let me finish my sentence as he gently pushes me back against the rail. His arms are extended on either side of me, he's surrounding me, caging me in, but once again, I don't feel trapped. He never moves his lips away from my neck as he repositions us. My breath is hitched and my heartbeat has doubled as I tilt my head back to allow him full access to my neck. He's softly running a trail of kisses from my neck up to my mouth, slowly, lightly licking, softly sucking, until his lips finally meet mine. — Kim Karr

Trace," she prompted. "Would you like to tell our friends our exciting news?" Her expression indicated that she'd barely been able to not call him a dumbass for gaping at her like an idiot. "Of course I would." He turned and flashed his panty-dropping grin at the audience. "Our exciting news is that Kylie and I are expecting." The response was almost deafening. A hand smacked him hard in the chest. "We're expecting y'all to come see us on the road. Because tonight we're kicking off our The Other Side of Me tour," she clarified, practically shouting into the mic over the bedlam. He winked when she glared at him. — Caisey Quinn

He imagines the plane exploding as it touches down, ignited by one of its glints, in a ball of red flame shadowed in black like you see on TV all the time, and he is shocked to find within himself, imagining this, not much emotion, just a cold thrill at being a witness, a kind of bleak wonder at the fury of chemicals, and relief that he hadn't been on the plane himself but was instead safe on this side of the glass, with his faint pronged sense of doom. — John Updike