Propped Sitting Quotes & Sayings

The hallway beyond was filled with males of the house, the Brothers and other fighters and Manny sitting on the floor with their backs to the bare walls, their legs stretched out, propped up, crossed at the knees or crossed at the ankles.
Apparently there had been quite a bit of drinking going on, bottles of vodka and whiskey littered around them, glasses in hands or on thighs.
"This is NOT as pathetic as it looks," her Butch pointed out.
"Liar," V muttered, "It so fucking is. I think I'm going to start knitting for reals. — J.R. Ward

While never violating our uniqueness, we move together, united in heart and soul. Our greatness is unleashed in the context of community. When we move together, God is most perfectly revealed in us. — Erwin Raphael McManus

Everything else just kept picking and picking, hacking away. And nothing was interesting, nothing. The people were restrictive and careful, all alike. And I've got to live with these fuckers for the rest of my life, I thought. — Charles Bukowski

This is not exactly what I had in mind when I agreed to miss lunch," Alex said grumpily forty minutes later. He shifted uncomfortably and tried to see what I was doing.
I stared him back into submission. "Wait."
The art room is usually empty Thursday afternoons except for me. Ms. Evers leaves early to teach her UArts class and looks up.Of course, I am one of the few entrusted with the Secret Location of the Key.
A few feet away from where I sat perched on a stool,Alex was posed on the anchient chaise we use for figure drawing. It's a relic, probably from the Palladinetti years: chipped mahogany and dusty velvet, what little remaining stuffing pokes out from a century of holes. I was probably luxurious once. Now it's like sitting on a slightly smelly board. But I'd wanted to sketch Alex as I so often saw him, reclining with his head propped on one hand,listening or talking or coaxing me to put down the glass, already,Ella,and come here. — Melissa Jensen

I love to shop at BCBG, because it's classy and elegant but a little bit sexy. It fits who I am in one store. — Emeraude Toubia

You are always damned by things that you do well as an actor. — Christine Baranski

Rolfe unlocked the door, muttering, "This had better be worth my time," and stalked into the awaiting dimness beyond. Then stopped dead.
Even in the watery light, Dorian could perfectly see the woman sitting at Rolfe's desk, her black clothes dirty, weapons gleaming, and her feet propped on the dark wooden surface.
Aelin Galathynius, her hands laced behind her head, grinned at them all and said, "I like this office far better thank your old one Rolfe. — Sarah J. Maas

I will be writing to the relevant authorities to complain, but I'm wasting my breath. — Joe Royle

She's sitting propped up on the — Tawni O'Dell

Then my gaze slid over the people to the blaze of green beyond the diaphanous
curtains, and I felt as if I were sitting in the window of an enormous department store. The figures around me weren't people, but shop dummies, painted to resemble people and propped up in attitudes counterfeiting life. — Sylvia Plath

The handyman who'd helped rescue them was sitting at the front desk, his arm propped on his toolbox as he listened to a handheld radio, and he waved when he saw them. "How were the stairs?"
Better than the elevator," Owen said. "Any news?"
"No power until tomorrow at the earliest," he reported, his mustache twitching. "They're saying it goes all the way up into Canada." He paused for a moment, then shook his head. "It must be quite a sight from up in space. — Jennifer E. Smith

Though it was the Young Men's Christian Association, Paul of Tarsus had little to do with it. The showers were cruisy, and the sauna even more so. — Trebor Healey

What do you need that for?" he asks about the Jack Daniel's. "We might have to hit her over the head." "Why are you smiling?" "Because this is a happy time," I tell him honestly, even after I push aside the image of knocking Shannon unconscious with a bottle of JD. "This is fun. This is good. When this is all over, we're going to have a baby." He doesn't look all that convinced, but he trots after me as we take our equipment into Shannon's room. She's sitting propped up on the bed with every pillow in my house behind her, blowing out air like a stalled locomotive. "You're going to ruin my pillows," I moan. "I'll buy you new pillows," she spits at me. "I'll buy you a new bed. I'll buy you a new fucking house." "Watch your language," I tell her. "There's a little kid here." "You think I care about a fucking little kid? Why is there a little kid here?" "Can we hit her yet?" Kenny asks. "Not yet." Fanci — Tawni O'Dell

What the devil was this story? Douglas pushed open the door to his sitting room, propped one shoulder against the window frame as he opened the plain, prudish cover, and began to read.
By the end of the first page his eyebrows started to rise. By the end of the second, his mouth was hanging open. And when he reached the last page, he no longer cared about Spence's wager or the bounty on Lady Constance's head or what Burke was thinking to let Joan read this.
If Madeline Wilde had written this
even if every word sprang solely out of her imagination and not from her experience
he wanted to get to know her much, much better. — Caroline Linden