Prosternarse Quotes & Sayings

Not stepping over the bounds of modesty. — William Shakespeare

And when I say "exploded" I mean "interacted catastrophically with the topography of space/time in ways we're not entirely able to explain," but "explode" gets the gist of it, particularly with regard to what would happen to a human caught in it. — John Scalzi

No which fish are big enough to land — Rick Riordan

I don't love the business. I never wanted to be a part of it. I don't think any actor does. Most of the time, I've been really fortunate to work with people who are really fun to work with. It doesn't mean we don't take it seriously, but no one is under the delusion (that we're) bringing world peace. — Alan Arkin

This is very creative, said Mrs. Fretag, and she began to read my essay. The words sounded good to me. Everybody was listening. My words filled the room, from blackboard to blackboard, they hit the ceiling and bounced off, they covered Mrs. Fretag's shoes and piled up on the floor. — Charles Bukowski

Confucius said, "Before embarking upon a journey of revenge, dig two graves." I planned to dig seven. — Lili St. Germain

Jack stares at me blankly. 'A what?' he asks.

I choke back the laugh. 'A boy. You know? A Y-chromosome holder? You don't seem to notice them as much as you do the X-carriers.'

'What are you talking about?' Jack asks, 'A boy? She's just a kid.'

I hesitate, wondering how Jack is only just doing the maths on this one now. 'She's seventeen. She's not a kid anymore.'

Jack looks like he's about to go all Incredible Hulk and burst out of his clothes before rampaging through the bar. He jumps off the stool. 'If any boy ever lays a finger on my sister, I'm going to kill him,' he says.

Again I stare at him in silence, thinking of all the girls Jack has laid fingers and much more of his anatomy on besides. Poor Lila. If she ever wants to have a shot at a normal life, as in one that doesn't require a vow of celibacy, she needs to stay in London. — Sarah Alderson

The eyes were damned, the staring, glaring eyes of one who sees but does not see, eyes ever turned inward to the sterile hell of dreams beyond control, dreams unleashed, risen out of the stinking swamps of the unconscious. — Stephen King

I don't think in terms of optimism and pessimism when writing a story. I am telling a story. — Doris Lessing