Quotes & Sayings About Pouch

Then this is for you," Galahad said, and drew a knife from the pouch at his belt. It was an odd little thing, T-hilted and small enough to fit into a woman's hand. Its translucent blade, only an inch and a half long, was bound with scrolling bronze wire to the bone hilt. "Have a care. Obsidian is sharper than anything else in the world, sharp enough to make sunlight bleed. — Suzannah Rowntree

In the case of the stomach, however, the nerves of the glandular cells were always severed when constructing an artificially isolated pouch and this, naturally, affected the normal work of the stomach. — Ivan Pavlov

At sunrise of the third day, I saw the corpse's chest begin to rise and fall and I heard the first intake of breath - a rasp like water being poured into a leather pouch. — Dan Simmons

You can't get anything worth having for nothing," Darnay declared, offering his guest a fill of tobacco from his pouch, "and faith is worth having - it's the only thing that can save us now, when the whole world has straws in its hair. Faith is worth working for." Bulloch considered this while he filled his pipe. "To — D.E. Stevenson

Lieutenant Commander Sibley added a few final flourishes as he brought the Jade up to cruising speed. "If you have to hurl, Staff Sargent, bite the black tab at the base of your faceplate. It'll open a pouch."
No answer. Not even the sound of a lost lunch.
"Staff?"
Her telltales were green. She was conscious. Heart pumping at sixty/sixty. Respiration slow and steady.
Then it dawned on him. While he'd been flying a pattern designed to test the limits of Human physiology, his passenger had gone to sleep. — Tanya Huff

JOHNNA: When a Cheyenne baby is born, their umbilical cord is dried and sewn into this pouch. Turtles for girls, lizards for boys. And we wear it for the rest of our lives. JEAN: Wow. JOHNNA: Because if we lose it, our souls belong nowhere and after we die our souls will walk the Earth looking for where we belong. — Tracy Letts

That was opportunity knocking." She shoved the last empty coffee pouch into her pack. "You didn't answer, so it's buggered off to find someone who appreciates it. — Tanya Huff

I love that time when all you want to do is cocoon with your baby in your own little world, when you carry them around all the time in a little pouch or sling. — Kelli Williams

Sturdy swimmers afloat on water-couch
Beneath the heavy bill their treasured pouch
Fishes pray for them to fly far away
Inland lakes toast to the Pelican's day — Munia Khan

It was like hundreds of roads he'd driven over - no different - a stretch of tar, lusterless, scaley, humping toward the center. On both sides were telephone poles, tilted this way and that, up a little, down...

Billboards - down farther an increasing clutter of them. Some road signs. A tottering barn in a waste field, the Mail Pouch ad half weathered away. Other fields. A large wood - almost leafless now - the bare branches netting darkly against the sky. Then down, where the road curved away, a big white farmhouse, trees on the lawn, neat fences - and above it all, way up, a television aerial, struck by the sun, shooting out bars of glare like neon. ("Thompson") — George A. Zorn

I seek for myself the immunity of the diplomatic pouch. — Wayne Koestenbaum

It was the very fact of the note, stuck on my windshield on the Red Lake Indian Reservation in northern Minnesota, hundreds of miles from where Fatback had lived and, apparently, died. That, and the small deerskin pouch of tobacco that was tied to it. Fatback was a black Lab - a good dog - who had belonged to Dan, an elderly Lakota man who lived far out on the Dakota plains. Years before, as a result of a book of elders' memories I had done with students at Red Lake, Dan had contacted me to come out to his home to speak with him. His request was vague, and I had been both skeptical and apprehensive. But, reluctantly, I had gone, and it had changed my life. We had worked together, traveled together, and created a book together in which the old man told his stories and memories and thoughts about Indian people and our American land. — Kent Nerburn

The trout that seem to stick in my memory the finest aren't the big ones, and maybe it's because I have't visited all the corners of the globe, but my most unforgettable trout all lived close to home. In fact, when I take out my pouch of trout memories and spill them all on the table, it seems that the smaller ones shine the brightest. — William G. Tapply

As he talked, Aphros drew some wicked-looking metal spikes from his belt. Leo was afraid he had said something wrong, but Aphros pulled some seaweed yarn from his pouch and started knitting. "Go on," he urged. "Don't stop. — Rick Riordan

The more specific you are about your resolution, the better your chance of sticking with it. Don't just say, "I want to lose weight." Say, "When my arm jiggles, I want it to look less like a pelican's throat-pouch choking down a bass. — Colin Nissan

Be the best of anything you get into. If you want to be a whore, it's your life. Be a damn good one. Don't chippy at anything. Anything worth having is worth working for.'
It was her version of Polonius' speech to Laertes. With that wisdom in my pouch, I was to go out and buy my future. — Maya Angelou

You would think that I'd be a bit more comfortable talking about sex, now that I'd had it and all. You would also think that at my age I would be able to successfully insert the straw into a Capri sun juice pouch. I was 0-2 there. — Cora Carmack

I took the thin magazine from the pouch in front of me and began to thumb through it. I felt self-conscious, as if I shouldn't be there. My mind began to wander, as I knew it would, back to the boonies. I was on patrol again. Monaco was on point. Peewee and Walowick followed him. Lobel and Brunner were next, then Johnson, the sixty cradled in his arm as if it were a child. We were walking the boonies, past rice paddies, toward yet another hill. I was in the rear, and for some reason I turned back. Behind me, trailing the platoon, were the others. Brew, Jenkins, Sergeant Dongan, Turner, and Lewis, the new guys, and Lieutenant Carroll.
I knew I was mixing my prayers, but it didn't matter. I just wanted God to care for them, to keep them whole. I knew they were thinking about me and Peewee. — Walter Dean Myers

Sevro does not want to go without me. He does not understand why Cassius needs his help to mop up the remainders of Diana. I tell him the truth. "Cassius has a pouch in his boot, the one Lilath gave him. I need you to steal it." His eyes do not judge. Not even now. There are times when I wonder what I did to earn such loyalty, then others when I try not to press my luck by looking the gift horse in the mouth. That — Pierce Brown

If you were a kangaroo you'd forget you've got a joey in your pouch. — Steve Fowler

By ten o'clock she thought he might soon be ready to talk. He'd threatened, blustered, even tried to sweet-talk her. Then the bribery had begun. He'd let her live if she let him out immediately. He'd give her three horses, two sheep, and a cow. He'd give her a pouch of coin, three horses, two sheep, not just a cow but a milking cow, and set her up anywhere in England, if she would just leave his castle and not bother him again for the rest of his life. The only offer/threat that had perked her momentary interest was when he'd shouted that he was going to "toop her 'til her bonny legs fell off."
She should be so lucky. — Karen Marie Moning

GASTRIC BYPASS SURGERY COMPLICATIONS: 14-YEAR FOLLOW-UP11 Vitamin B12 deficiency 239 39.9 percent Readmit for various reasons 229 38.2 percent Incisional hernia 143 23.9 percent Depression 142 23.7 percent Staple line failure 90 15.0 percent Gastritis 79 13.2 percent Cholecystitis 68 11.4 percent Anastomotic problems 59 9.8 percent Dehydration, malnutrition 35 5.8 percent Dilated pouch 19 3.2 percent — Joel Fuhrman

Had to pee his pants for a role, and when they tried to attach the pouch to him so that it would look real,, he shouted, 'No, I do all my own stunts. I got this. — Rachel Van Dyken

Sea horses have complicated routines for courtship, and tend to mate under full moons, making musical sounds while doing so. They live in long-term monogamous partnerships. What is perhaps most unusual, though, is that it is the male sea horse that carries the young for up to six weeks. Males become properly "pregnant," not only carrying, but fertilizing and nourishing the developing eggs with fluid secretions. The image of males giving birth is perpetually mind-blowing: a turbid liquid bursts forth from the brood pouch, and like magic, minuscule but fully formed sea horses appear out of the cloud. — Jonathan Safran Foer

It calms me to think of blue as the color of death. I have long imagined death's approch as the swell of a wave - a towering wall of blue. You will drown, the world tells me, has always told me. You will descend into a blue underworld, blue with hungry ghosts, Krishna blue, the blue faces of the ones you loved. They all drowned, too. To take a breath of water: does the thought panic or excite you? If you are in love with red then you slit or shoot. If you are in love with blue you fill your pouch with stones good for sucking and head down to the river. Any river will do. — Maggie Nelson

She fumbled in her apron pocket for her tobacco pouch. "Has anyone got a light?" she inquired. A couple of actors produced bundles of matches. Nanny nodded, and put the pouch away. "Good," she said. "Now, has anyone got any tobacco? — Terry Pratchett

When I travel, I always take my Winsor & Newton watercolor kit, which is the size of a pack of cigarettes when folded up. I bought my first one in the 1980s. It was handy to bring on trips, and I packed it into a leather pouch along with a couple of brushes, a pencil, an eraser and paper. — Susan Minot

Hands-Off Parenting Envy the kangaroo. That pouch setup is extraordinary: The baby crawls out of the womb when it is about two inches long, gets into the pouch, and proceeds to mature. I'd have a baby if it would develop in my handbag. RITA RUDNER — Anonymous

Drizzt revealed a small pouch hanging on a fine silver chain around his neck. "A few baubles," he explained. "I need no riches and doubt that I would be able to carry much out of here, anyway! A few baubles will suffice." He sifted through the portion of the pile he had just freed from the ice, uncovering a gem-encrusted sword pommel, its black adamantite hilt masterfully sculpted into the likeness of the toothed maw of a hunting cat. The lure of the intricate workmanship pulled at Drizzt, and with trembling fingers he slid the rest of the weapon out from under the gold. A scimitar. Its curving blade was of silver, and diamond-edged. Drizzt raised it before him, marveling at its lightness and perfect balance. "A few baubles ... and this," he corrected. — R.A. Salvatore

Turn back time to half-past innocence. But that clock's lying on its side, hour hand spinning wildly, in a dirty Dublin alley near a gold makeup pouch half concealed by trash, and an address carved in stone by a dying woman. Broken. — Karen Marie Moning

I should've known Gideon would spill. He's like a surrogate parent. Not like a stepfather, exactly - more like a godfather, or a sea horse who wants to stuff me into his pouch. — Kendare Blake

The majority decision constitutionalizes a distinction between a red leather pouch and a paper bag that is necessarily based at least in some part on economic and class differences and perceptions. — David L. Bazelon

For the last time, it is a pouch, not a fanny pack. How come no one sees the difference?" "There is no difference. That's why no one can see it. — K.F. Breene

They can't just unzip the pouch at the bottom of my abdomen and take it out that way? — Laurelin Paige

He unwrapped his pack and the first thing he did was to count his matches. There were sixty-seven. He counted them three times to make sure. He divided them into several portions, wrapping them in oil paper, disposing of one bunch in his empty tobacco pouch, of another bunch in the inside band of his battered hat, of a third bunch under his shirt on the chest. This accomplished, a panic came upon him, and he unwrapped them all and counted them again. There were still sixty-seven. He — Jack London

And he will have a great aunt called Elinor who tells him there's a world not like this one. A world with neither fairies nor glass men, but with animals who carry their young in a pouch in front of their bellies, and birds with wings that beat so fast it sounds like the humming of a bumblebee, with carriages that drive along without any horses and pictures that move on their own accord ... She will tell him that even the most powerful men don't carry swords in the other world, but there are much, much more terrible weapons there ... She will even claim that the people there have built coaches that can fly ... So the boy will think that perhaps he'll have to go alone one day, if he wants to see that world ... Because it must be exciting in that other world, much more exciting than in his own ... — Cornelia Funke

Envy the kangaroo. That pouch setup is extraordinary; the baby crawls out of the womb when it is about two inches long, gets into the pouch, and proceeds to mature. I'd have a baby if it would develop in my handbag. — Rita Rudner

Charlotte was lost for words. What did one say to a man in a fake marsupial head, wearing a grass loin-pouch and trying to debate ethnobotany in the middle of a lost world that was supposed to be inaccessible by foot? — Jennifer Fulton

Hagrid!" said Harry loudly. "There's an owl - " "Pay him," Hagrid grunted into the sofa. "What?" "He wants payin' fer deliverin' the paper. Look in the pockets." Hagrid's coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets - bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, peppermint humbugs, teabags . . . finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins. "Give him five Knuts," said Hagrid sleepily. "Knuts?" "The little bronze ones." Harry counted out five little bronze coins, and the owl held out his leg so Harry could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then he flew off through — J.K. Rowling

I seen but little of this world,
Except my corner of it;
The city never drew me,
For I knew I could not love it.
What I loved best was watching
The garden getting ripe
And a pouch of sweet tobacco
And my old cob pipe.
What I loved best was a harvest moon
Before a frosty morn
And lamplight in the barn lot
And them long, straight rows of corn.
I was plain and country;
That's where it starts and ends,
But nobody loved her family more,
Or treasured more her friends.
I loved the changing seasons,
And looking for life's reasons,
And honey in the comb,
and home. — Richard Peck

If I see a roll of Bubble Tape, a bag of Haribo Gold-Bears or a pouch of green-apple Big League Chew, I'm eleven again. — Rosecrans Baldwin

You know what I wisht I had, Ma? A pouch like a 'possum, to tote things.
The Yearling — Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings

Mister Lenk,' he forced through his teeth, 'you are by far the most disgusting. ' Lenk weighed the pouch in his hand, hearing the jingle of coins within. Nodding, he tucked it into his own belt. 'That's why I'm the leader. — Sam Sykes

Wrap fish fillets, sliced veggies, and other quick-cooking items inside foil packets with bundles of fresh herbs and throw them directly on the grill; the steam will release the herb's perfume and flavor anything contained inside the pouch. — Emeril Lagasse

A male frigate bird blows up a wild red pouch on his neck. He can keep it puffed up for hours. It is his way of impressing the girls. — Julie Murphy

A huge fireplace and Dutch oven of fieldstone filled one wall. Over them hung a long muzzle-loading rifle, powder horn, and bullet pouch. On the mantel were candle molds, a coffee mill, an iron and trivet, and a rusty kettle. An iron cauldron, big enough to boil a missionary in, swung at the end of a long arm in the fireplace, and below it, like so many black offspring, were a cluster of small pots. A wooden butter churn held the door open, and clusters of Indian corn hung from the molding at aesthetic intervals. A colonial scythe stood in one corner, and two Boston rockers on a hooked rug faced the cold fireplace, where the unwatched pot never boiled. Paul — Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

I rubbed my head against his chest like a cat soliciting attention and marking her territory. I couldn't get close enough. I wished humans had a pouch like kangaroos.. I would happily climb in and let Griff tote me around everywhere. — Genna Rulon

And even childhood was no good any more - not the way it was. No worry then but how to find a good stone, not round exactly but flattened and water-shaped, to use in a sling pouch cut from a discarded shoe. Where did all the good stones go, and all simplicity? — John Steinbeck

Tis solace making baubles, ay, and sport.
Himself peeped late, eyed Prosper at his books
Careless and lofty, lord now of the isle:
Vexed, 'stitched a book of broad leaves, arrow-shaped,
Wrote thereon, he knows what, prodigious words;
Has peeled a wand and called it by a name;
Weareth at whiles for an enchanter's robe
The eyed skin of a supple oncelot;
And hath an ounce sleeker than youngling mole,
A four-legged serpent he makes cower and couch,
Now snarl, now hold its breath and mind his eye,
And saith she is Miranda and my wife:
'Keeps for his Ariel a tall pouch-bill crane
He bids go wade for fish and straight disgorge;
Also a sea-beast, lumpish, which he snared,
Blinded the eyes of, and brought somewhat tame,
And split its toe-webs, and now pens the drudge
In a hole o' the rock and calls him Caliban;
A bitter heart that bides its time and bites. — Robert Browning

The silver-haired elf woman Yaela had knelt by the side of the grave, taken an acorn from the pouch on her belt, and planted it directly above Wyrden's chest. And then the twelve elves, Arya included, sang to the acorn, which took root and sprouted and grew twining upward, reaching and grasping toward the sky like a clutch of hands. When the elves had finished, the leafy oak stood twenty feet high, with long strings of green flowers at the end of every branch. Eragon had thought it was the nicest burial he had ever attended. — Christopher Paolini

I never stopped thinking about the Alamo from that day to this. I'm a huge collector of memorabilia. I've got Davy Crockett's bullet pouch. I've got Colonel Travis's belt. — Phil Collins

It's my earliest memory: arranging my brother's marbles into words. It is summer, and I am beneath the oak that stands in the back corner of the work yard. Thomas, ten, whom I love above all the others, has taught me nine words: SARAH, GIRL, BOY, GO, STOP, JUMP, RUN, UP, DOWN. He has written them on a parchment and given me a pouch of forty-eight glass marbles with which to spell them out, enough to shape two words at a time. — Sue Monk Kidd

What every girl should know: Your vagina is disgusting. It smells like the underside of a kangaroo pouch and he doesn't want to touch you because of the grossness. But thankfully, NEW brand douche, perfected by a leading gynecologist, gently cleanses and refreshes, making you feel feminine and special. Because what's more special than a vage filled with vinegar and chemical daisies? Also available in SPICY CINNAMON TACO, for the girl adventurer. — Kelly Sue DeConnick

I hold death in my pouch, I cannot die. — Fela Kuti

Do not make the mistake of assuming that because we're women we'll eventually want children. We aren't kangaroos - this internal pouch isn't one we all feel instinctively compelled to fill. — Sylvia D. Lucas

Bone grease with dried meat and berries to make pemmican, the energy bars of a thousand years ago, and with a pouch of pemmican, the Native Americans were good to travel far and wide. (If you can't pack portable food, you spend most of your time hunting and foraging). — Marilyn Johnson

Ask any Ferrari, Porsche or Ray-Ban salesperson about their average customer and you will very likely hear that he is not, as the adverts would have us believe, a virile young footballer with shiny hair, a rippling six pack and a trouser pouch like a new punch bag. He is, in fact, a middle-aged bloke wearing more chins than he started life with and carrying the clear evidence of forty years of beer and pies slung across his midriff. — Richard Hammond

Place unopened pouch in warm water for 5-10 minutes.
Unopened pouch may be laid on a warm surface.
Lay unopened pouch in direct sunlight. Not much chance of that down here.
Place unopened pouch inside you shirt, allow you body temperature to warm your MRE.
I was surprised they left out: Place unopened pouch on ground and pee on it. — S.A. Bodeen

So, yes, I should have just surrendered, cinched the entitled scion her little pouch of entitlements, put in my calls to the name shufflers, done my duty. I thought about that moment later on. Maybe I got extratuned to the concept of bitchhood once I became Purdy's, though I must confess I've always found such usage of the term for female dogs distasteful. My mother was a second-wave feminist. I wasn't comfortable saying "cunt" until I was twenty-three, at which point, admittedly, I couldn't hold back for a time. — Sam Lipsyte

This quote is not original to me but is
a hard sure way to peace and forgiveness: Stones in a pouch rub each other smooth. — Donna B. Mack

I withdrew a small card from the pouch. The front of it was filled with lines of elegant, hand-lettered script. "What does it say?" Dad asked, leaning forward. "The Four Remembers of Life," I read. "Number one: Remember, you are unique. Number two: Remember, there is purpose to your life. Number three: Remember you are free to choose what you are and what you become. And number four: Remember, you are not alone. — Gerald N. Lund

How small the cosmos (a kangaroo's pouch would hold it), how paltry and puny in comparison to human consciousness, to a single individual recollection, and its expression in words! — Vladimir Nabokov

He has a superb groin. A silky pouch. A secret garden. The groin of a sire. I once saw just such a creamy, velvet groin on a male antelope. — Anonymous

Usually when I ask people to reach into my velvety pouch it means something different. — Rebel Wilson

As she said this, she tossed him one of her blue-and-gray-checked tea towels to use as an apron. She was wearing a blue summer dress and tucked her towel-apron into her red belt. Today he could see that her blond hair was tinged with silver at the temples and that the former confusion and terror had left her eyes.
Soon the windowpanes had misted up; the gas flames were hissing under pots and pans; the white wine, shallots and cream sauce was simmering; and in a heavy pan the olive oil was browning potatoes sprinkled with rosemary and salt.
They were chatting away as if they'd known each other for years and had simply lost touch for a while. About Carla Bruni, and about how male sea horses carried their young around in a pouch on their stomachs. They talked about fashion and about the trend for salt with added flavorings, and of course they gossiped about their neighbors. — Nina George

His hand reached for his throat, fumbling for the small leather pouch he always wore about his neck. Inside he kept the bones of the four fingers his king had shortened for him, on the day he made Davos a knight. My luck. His shortened fingers patted at his chest, groping, finding nothing. The pouch was gone, and the fingerbones with them. Stannis could never understand why he'd kept the bones. "To remind me of my king's justice," he whispered through cracked lips. But now they were gone. — George R R Martin

By the way, when you finish the bottle of Crown Royal, you can still use the pouch to hold your broken dreams. — Jon Stewart

[According to 1348 theorists, poisoning of Christian water by Jews was the cause of Black Death.]

Even the poison used to contaminate the Christian water supply was described in meticulous detail. It was "about the size of an egg," except when it was the "size of a nut" or a "large nut," "a fist" or "two fists"- and it came packaged in "a leather pouch," except when it was packaged in "linen cloth," "a rag," or a "paper coronet"; and the poison was variously made from lizards, frogs, and spiders- when it was not made from the hearts of Christians and from Holy Communion wafers. — John Kelly

The lawyer's pouch is a mouth of hell. — Henry George Bohn

Hearthstone bowed his head in gratitude. He stepped away from the dais, cradling his new pouch o' power like it was a swaddled baby. — Rick Riordan

After some time he felt for his pipe. It was not broken, and that was something. Then he felt for his pouch, and there was some tobacco in it, and that was something more. Then he felt for matches and he could not find any at all, and that shattered his hopes completely. — J.R.R. Tolkien

Also, I have a pouch below my belly, whereas I'd always had a thin waist before. Now there's this situation down there, low and grabbable. If it had a zipper, you could store stuff in there, like a fanny pack. — Anne Lamott

In a seperate cloth pouch I found little bottles of shampoo and soap and a toothbrush and the like,as well as a tiny brown glass vial of perfumed oil. It smelled of violets and chocolate.
Yeah,like I needed the zombies to find me any more delicious.That'd be like a cow wearing eau de gravy. — Lia Habel

A Zentangle Art Kit To make your own little art kit you will need: Zentangle squares cut from black and white paper A Micron 01 and 05 Pen A Sakura White Gel Pen A White Pencil A Soft Lead Pencil A Box to house all your treasures. All you have to do is gather your materials and put them in a box. You can decorate the box as you like. Maybe you would like to draw Zentangles all over it. I like to carry my kit in my purse and so a box is quite cumbersome. I use a small plastic pouch. It very easily houses all my Zentangle squares, pencils and pens. — Mahe Zehra Husain

How true, how true" said the Sour Kangaroo, "And from now on, you know what I'm gonna do? I'm going to protect them with you!" And the Young Kangaroo in her pouch said "Me too! — Dr. Seuss

You must never allow something that happened to you to become a morbidly treasured heirloom that you carry, show people, put back in its black velvet pouch and then tuck back into your jacket where you can keep it close to your heart. — Augusten Burroughs

You make a mystery of playing political love.
I could kill for you. I'd bring you an eagle stuffed
with finches. It's pouch growing large and groaning
in your palm. A cliff of umbrellas and memory
shaping your every move. — Paige Taggart

What if she remembered the fortress wrong? What if she climbed up and the sun did not come out? What if it did, but it felt the same as any other sunrise?
She could not risk tainting that precious memory. She clutched the locket around her neck, the one Radu had given her to replace her old leather pouch. Inside were the dusty remains of an evergreen sprig and a flower from these same mountains. She had carried them with her as talismans through the lands of her enemies. Now she was home, and still in the land of her enemies.
She would climb that peak one day, soon. When it was all hers. She would come back, and she would rebuild the fortress to honor Wallachia. — Kiersten White

Whoever had said in the guidebooks that the bum bag was a sensible device against theft had lied; no single item of dressware ever invented cried out "mug me" more than a pouch of zip-up plastic suspended by your groin. — Kate Griffin