Passageway Quotes & Sayings

I took a few dragging steps toward the locker-room door. 'You're doing something to me that I wouldn't do to a dog,' I mumbled. 'What you're doing to me is worse than if you were to kill me. You're locking me up in shadows for the rest of my life. You're taking my mind away from me. You're condemning me slowly but surely to madness, to being without a mind. It won't happen right away, but sooner or later, in six months or in a year - Well, I guess that's that.'
I fumbled my way out of the locker room and down the passageway outside, guiding myself with one arm along the wall, and past the sergeant's desk and down the steps, and then I was out in the street.
("All At Once, No Alice") — Cornell Woolrich

Besides, you have to remember that the thinner air out here slows down the intellectual process, the result of less oxygen flowing to the brain.'
He grinned and looked at her sideways. 'Is that a doctor thing?'
'No that's a Scully thing ... The doctor thing is, get some sleep ... or you'll be useless in the morning.'
He nodded as he waved a weary good night over his shoulder, sidestepping a garden wall just before he tripped over it. Another wave- I'm okay, I know what I'm doing- before he disappeared into the passageway. — Charles Grant

The moment at which two people, approaching from opposite ends of a long passageway, recognize each other and immediately pretend they haven t. This is to avoid the ghastly embarrassment of having to continue recognizing each other the whole length of the corridor. — Douglas Adams

Sarah took a deep breath and set off along the passageway again. A clump of lichen on the gatepost opened its eyes and watched her go. The eyes, on tendrils, had an anxious look, and when she had gone some distance away the clump, swiveling its eyes toward each other, commenced to gossip among itself. Most of it disapproved of the direction she had taken. You could tell that from the way the eyes looked meaningfully into each other. Lichen knows about directions. — A.C.H. Smith

Piper had trouble falling asleep. Coach Hedge spent the first hour after curfew doing his nightly duty, walking up and down the passageway yelling, "Lights out! Settle down! Try to sneak out, and I'll smack you back to Long Island!" He banged his baseball bat against a cabin door whenever he heard a noise, shouting at everyone to go to sleep, which made it impossible for anyone to go to sleep. Piper figured this was the most fun the satyr had had since he'd pretended to be a gym teacher at the Wilderness School. — Rick Riordan

Celaena's scream was still echoing through the passageway as Chaol leapt off the stairs and hurtled through the misty portal after Fleetfoot. — Sarah J. Maas

We trust death to spare us the infirmities of age or the pain of an illness or an injury that is past healing. We trust death to comfort us with forgetfulness of life's sorrows. We trusted that death was a passageway fro life to life. — Catherine M. Wilson

Every human alive today came from a single mother in Africa, who lived about two hundred thousand years ago. Later, when the sea levels receded about ninety thousand years ago, a small tribe of a few hundred traveled out of the plains of Africa. After crossing the Red Sea through the Gate of Grief passageway, they fanned out and populated the entire world. How can there be any strangers among us when we all share a single common ancestor? — Nina Wirk

What is this war we are waging, when defeat is so certain? Day after day, already wearied by the constant onslaught, we face out terror of the everyday, the endless passageway that, in the end - because we have spent so much time walking to and fro between its walls -will become a destiny. Yes, my angel, that is our everyday existence: dreary, empty and mired in troubles. The pathways of hell are hardly foreign; we shall end up there one day if we tarry too long. — Muriel Barbery

There were no chambers now along the passageway and consequently no lights. There was a glow up ahead, however - fitful and cold, but bright enough to illuminate both the ground she stumbled over, which was bare earth, and the silvery frost on the walls. — Clive Barker

Then to top it all off, you were only reacting to me because you were impaired! That's rich! You know what those drugs did to you in the first dose, before the second one made you comatose? They killed the bug up your arse!"
With that, he yanked the stone off its setting and opened the passageway. My mouth hung open in outrage, and he pointed an emphatic finger at the exit.
"Out you go, before I lose my temper and we'll see how much you don't like kissing me. — Jeaniene Frost

When you ask the Universe to bless you in your effort to align yourself with your soul, you open a passageway between yourself and your guides and Teachers. That is what a blessing is: the opening of a passageway between you and nonphysical guidance. — Gary Zukav

Harry hurtled around a corner and found Fred and a small knot of students, including Lee Jordan and Hannah Abbott, standing beside another empty plinth, whose statue had concealed a secret passageway. Their wands were drawn and they were listening at the concealed hole.
"Nice night for it!" Fred shouted as the castle quaked again, and Harry sprinted by, elated and terrified in equal measure. — J.K. Rowling

He walked down the passageway with her and cursed silently. Obviously, he'd grossly overestimated his appeal. Perhaps he should have taken her at her word at Gobhann when she reminded him that she had no use for mages. Perhaps he should have realized sooner that she - ... had reached behind his back and taken his hand. — Lynn Kurland

I met you at the cornerstone on the highway to bedlam./Walked with you to the pinnacle, along that ledge to hell,/Traveled along the passageway of all things aching,/But would crawl with you if you wanted me to/On the steeple point to hope./So we can tip the stars and hold the moon,/Graze the sun, but make it soon. — Melina Marchetta

If he was still alive, I thought. I knelt to him, then to Osferth, and I left. We walked in silence to a cloistered courtyard where the last roses of summer had dropped their petals on the damp grass. We sat on a stone bench and listened to the mournful chants echoing from the passageway. "The archbishop wanted me dead," I said. "I — Bernard Cornwell

As a child, books had been his passageway into foreign, sometimes utopian worlds. Carnival wasn't just an incarnation of that passageway in reality; it was everything that lay on the other side, where the only thing that mattered was the moment, and millions of people were able to inhabit that moment with ease and, predominantly, with bliss. — Jeff Hobbs

Ever since he'd discovered a secret passageway out of self-alienation, in the form of giving himself pleasure while also receiving it, he'd increasingly resented any activity that took him away from it. — Jonathan Franzen

The glass doors stared back at me like a secret passageway, moonlight filtering in and adding to the effect. I swallowed again, my heart pounding. What an exhilarating emotion this was. Exhilarating and terrifying. Nothing had ever made me feel so overwhelmed, so ethereal. Of all the new mysteries in my life, this was the most wrenching. Everything would change now, I knew. (Lily from Seers of Light) — Jennifer DeLucy

I found something" Simon said as he walked in. He whipped out an old-fashioned key from his pocket and grinned at me. "It was taped to the back of my dresser drawer. What do you think? Buried treasure? Secret passageway? Locked room where they keep crazy old Aunt Edna?"
"It probaly unlocks another dresser," Tori said. "One they threw out fifty years ago."
"Its tragic, being born without an imagination. Do they hold telethons for that? — Kelley Armstrong

Our room swallowed light whole. Even in summer when sunlight glared through the windows, it was somehow dim inside. Now it was only Easter morning, and the muted sky of early spring offered scant relief to our tenebrous room. On our side of the house a gnarled and ancient oak tree spread its reach across the back facade of the house as if to shade and protect us. One of the massive branches of its principal fork reached invitingly right up to our window to offer to take us wherever we wanted to go. This great limb, with circumference grander than both of us together, was our stairway to heaven and our secret exit to the ground; it was our biplane in the Great War of our imaginations and a magic carpet to Araby; it was our lookout post and the clubhouse of our most secret fraternal order; it was our secret passageway through the imaginary castle we made of our house. It was our escape from the darkness into the light. — Mason West

Blue irises. They're so indescribable. It's more of a feeling. My chills evaporate and blood surges through my body heating the surface until it glistens. No words can escape, just the faint whisper of a satisfied sigh as my posture relaxes. It's as if all the wonder and nostalgia of the most surreal places on Earth have been captured then released from his gaze. It's crazy, I know it, but there are blue eyes and then there are blue eyes. It's like God decided to give one man infinitely beautiful irises, a passageway to forever, a glimpse of Heaven, and I'm looking at him. It's the only explanation because it's not possible - or fair for that matter - to have eyes so mesmerizing. — Jewel E. Ann

Ruith?"
He looked at her with a smile. "Aye, my love?"
"Are you sure?"
He looked at her, puzzled, for a moment, then apparently he realized what she was asking. "How could you ask?"
"Because when a gel wants something very badly, she tends to want to avoid breaking her heart over the false hope of having it."
His breath caught. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought he was blinking rapidly from something besides the smoke the passageway. — Lynn Kurland

Well, hello there," I said, "you big, beautiful overgrown passageway." I looked over to Lia. "Let's confuse 'em a little. — Lisa Tawn Bergren

She spun a hundred-eighty degrees at the end of the passageway, landed like an acrobat beside the drum hatch. "The reason. Why something would attack us even if we didn't have anything it wanted." I read it off her: "If it wasn't attacking at all. If it was defending itself. — Peter Watts

Day after day, we pace up and down our life the way we pace up and down a passageway. — Muriel Barbery

Writing is a conduit. It opens up a passageway into the past. Not just for the writer, but for the reader too. Both readers and writer are linked by the commonality of human experience. — Lang Leav

The Syrian border town of Qa'im was the main gateway Islamic radicals used to go to Iraq. Syria became the passageway for extremists from Egypt, Libya, Afghanistan, Yemen, Saudi Arabia and other Muslim nations to fight a jihad against American forces in Iraq. — Richard Engel

You're not going to fight me, Captain. This is the right call. You know it."
She marched me off the bridge and into the brilliant white passageway. "You think I'm just going to trust you'll let me go?" I asked, getting a painful nudge in the back.
"You don't have a choice." She was right about that. "Relax. I got your back, Cale."
"You've got a pistol in my back is what you've got."
"Just like old times."
Trust her? Well, shit. — Pippa DaCosta

The pathways of hell are hardly foreign; we shall end up there one day if we tarry too long. From a passageway to a pathway: it is an easy fall, without shock or surprises. Every day we are reacquainted with the sadness of the passageway and step by step we clear the path toward our mournful doom. — Muriel Barbery

I feel as if my every move is being controlled by some kind of incredibly long arm that's reaching out from somewhere far away, and that my life has been nothing more than a convenient passageway for all these things moving through it. — Haruki Murakami

Raffin appeared again, a floor above her, on the balconied passageway that ran past his workrooms. He leaned over the railing and called down to her. "Kat!"
"What is it?"
"You look lost . Have you forgotten the way to your rooms?"
"I'm stalling."
"How long will you be? I'd like to show you a couple of my new discoveries."
"I've been told to make myself pretty for dinner."
He grinned. "Well in that case, you'll be ages."
His face dissolved into laughter, and she tore a button from one of her bags an hurled it at him. He squealed and dropped to the floor, and the button hit the wall right where he'd been standing. When he peeked back over the railing, she stood in the courtyard with her hands on her hips, grinning. "I missed on purpose," she said.
"Show off! Come if you have time." He waved, and turned into his rooms. — Kristin Cashore

Every person is a creator. We create with our ideas and beliefs. Our daily labor creates a worldly cocoon that enfolds us. We mold out of a granite substance not yet hardened the tutelary angels whose ideological formation will guide our passageway through the jungle of life. — Kilroy J. Oldster

The floor of the passageway was lined with an intricate mosaic of a big, black hound. Underneath were written the words of warning that had served property owners for at least two thousand years. Cave canem. Beware of the dog. — Daniel Godfrey

Entering yet another code, she took the passageway to Rehv's office, and when she came through his door, the three males around the desk all looked at her warily.
She took up res against the black wall across from them. "What."
Rehv leaned back in his chair, crossing his fur-clad arms over his chest. "Are you getting ready to go into your needing."
As he spoke, Trez and iAm both made the Shadow hand motion for warding off disaster.
"God, no. Why do you ask?"
"Because, no offense, you're cranky as fuck."
"I am not."
As the males looked at one another, she barked, "Stop that."
Oh, great, now they all just pointedly didn't look at each other.

-Xhex, Rehv, Trez & iAm — J.R. Ward

Zaphod marched quickly down the passageway, nervous as hell, but trying to hide it by striding purposefully. — Douglas Adams

I call her Wild Woman, for those very words, wild and woman, create llamar o tocar a la puerta, the fairy-tale knock at the door of the deep feminine psyche. Llamar o tocar a la puerta means literally to play upon the instrument of the name in order to open a door. It means using words that summon up the opening of a passageway. No matter by which culture a woman is influenced, she understands the words wild and woman, intuitively. — Clarissa Pinkola Estes

The passageway smelled like decaying bodies and lavender. Her nose found it entertaining. The rocky tunnel ate their footsteps. Camin Barice wanted it to steal their voices. Then, she wouldn't have to listen to the aggravating filth spilling from her charges holes. — Auden Johnson

Writing is the passageway, the entrance, the exit, the dwelling place of the other in me. — Helene Cixous

In the morning stillness, when the world is just waking up and your conscious mind hasn't fully taken over, you may feel a connection or passageway to another world, and a feeling that something is about to happen in yours. It's like a quiet storm is coming. You can feel the distant rumble of thunder on the horizon, yet you have no idea of the deluge your life is about to experience. — Padma Lakshmi

Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" said Malfoy. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"
Harry and Ron both made furious moves toward Malfoy, but Hermione got there first - SMACK!
She had slapped Malfoy across the face with all the strength she could muster. Malfoy staggered. Harry, Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle stood flabbergasted as Hermione raised her hand again.
"Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic you foul - you evil - "
"Hermione!" said Ron weakly and he tried to grab her hand as she swung it back.
"Get off Ron!"
Hermione pulled out her wand. Malfoy stepped backward. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him for instructions, thoroughly bewildered.
"C'mon," Malfoy muttered, and in a moment, all three of them had disappeared into the passageway to the dungeons.
"Hermione!" Ron said again, sounding both stunned and impressed. — J.K. Rowling

It's the color scheme of that first afternoon - that white panorama full of potential, that threshold white - that Marina understands as whomise. And that's what she's trying to recreate now, a year and a bit later, with a series of expensive light bulbs. 'White light,' the packaging promised. She fits them one by one throughout the house, and unbeknown to her, choreographs the slow dance of light-over-puddle in the passageway. — Laia Jufresa

It. At intervals of forty or fifty feet, air monitors were mounted on the right-hand wall. I found no signs of tampering. If the passageway led to the cooling-tower vault, as I was sure that it must, then it would be about four hundred feet long. Twice I thought I heard something behind me. When I looked over my shoulder, nothing loomed. The third time, I refused to succumb to the urge to glance back. Irrational — Dean Koontz

As we walk along our path of Life,
we meet people every day.
Most are simply met by chance;
but some are sent our way.
These become the Special Friends,
whose bond we can't explain ...
the ones who understand us,
and share our joy and pain.
Their love contains no boundaries,
so even when apart,
their presence still embraces us,
with a warmth felt in the heart.
This love becomes a passageway,
where even the miles disappear.
And the Special Friends which Life sends our way,
remain forever near. — Anonymous

I came to regard my body in a new light. For the first time I apprehended the little mounds on my chest as teats for the suckling of young, and their physical resemblance to udders on cows or the swinging distensions on lactating hounds was suddenly unavoidable. Funny how even women forget what breasts are for.
The cleft between my legs transformed as well. It lost a certain outrageousness, an obscenity, or achieved an obscenity of a different sort. The flaps seemed to open not to a narrow, snug dead end, but to something yawning. The passageway itself became a route to somewhere else, a real place, and not merely to a darkness in my mind. The twist of flesh in front took on a devious aspect, its inclusion overtly ulterior, a tempter, a sweetener for doing the species' heavy lifting, like the lollipops I once got at the dentist. — Lionel Shriver

Here's what I mean by the miracle of language. When you're falling into a good book, exactly as you might fall into a dream, a little conduit opens, a passageway between a reader's heart and a writer's, a connection that transcends the barriers of continents and generations and even death ... And here's the magic. You're different. You can never go back to being exactly the same person you were before you disappeared into that book. — Anthony Doerr

The internal dialogue is what grounds people in the daily world. The world is such and such or so and so, only because we talk to ourselves about its being such and such and so and so. The passageway into the world of shamans opens up after the warrior has learned to shut off his internal dialogue — Carlos Castaneda

Anyway, what do women grab when they're nervous and sitting at their desks? Do they slip their hands inside their panties? What a distracting thought. Just the word panty is distracting. I love that word; it implies so much. I love how women look in panties, how they're flat in the front. I'm thirty-five, but sometimes it's still this beautiful amazing shock to me that women don't have penises. They just have this lovely little mound of hair and then this tucked away glorious hole. Hole. Wait. Hole sounds vulgar. Is passageway better? Pretty envelope? Georgia O'Keeffe flower? Pussy? Pussy is good. I like the word pussy. Tucked away beautiful pussy. I wish I could put my face in one right now and sing out, I love you! — Jonathan Ames

The passageway was still as dark as a bar of extra-dark chocolate sitting in a planetarium covered in a thick, black blanket — Lemony Snicket

The passageway smelled of smoke: burning wood, a torch, acrid. His head ached. Blood was wet and sticky upon his arm and on his fingers, and the orange glow of torchlight played from behind his back and over the corridor walls, leaping like a bonfire. There was a strange familiarity to it: the narrow walls in around him. And when he came to a wooden door set in the wall, he put his hand upon it and pushed it open.
There was a room, and a pallet inside it; a small torch burned low in a socket upon the wall. A man lay upon the cot, his face bruised and battered, his hands curled against his chest bloody: and Laurence knew him; knew him and knew himself. He remembered another door opening, in Bristol, three years before, and a voice asking him to come outside his prison, in a Britain under siege.
"Tenzing," Laurence said, and, as Tharkay opened feverish eyes, went to help him stand. — Naomi Novik

This is what writing is: I one language, I another language, and between the two, the line that makes them vibrate; writing forms a passageway between two shores. — Helene Cixous

Yeah, could you just sort of keep this robot with you and guard this end of the passageway. Okay?" "Guard?" said Arthur. "What from? You just said there's no one here." "Yeah, well, just for safety, okay?" said Zaphod. "Whose? Yours or mine? — Douglas Adams

Kestrel took Arin's battered hand in hers, the rough heat of it, the fingernails still ringed with carbon from the smith's coal fire. His skin was raw-looking: scrubbed clean and scrubbed often. But the black grime was too ingrained.
She twined her fingers with his. Kestrel and Arin walked together through the passageway and the ghost of its old door, which her people had smashed through ten years before. — Marie Rutkoski

Touch your breast,Hellen," he commanded as he pressed a finger inside her and stroked the tight velvet passageway of her sex."I want to see you squeeze your nipples as I suckle your clit."
"Oh,gods,"she moaned, grasping her breast as her hips swung forward and back. — Laura Wright