Scooting Quotes & Sayings

I think this guy's dead," the coroner said, scooting another inch or two, to be safe.
"There's something wrong here," Tom said. They both looked at him.
"No, I'm pretty sure of it," the coroner said. "That bullet hole, for one thing. Plus, he's not breathing. That's the kind of thing we look for. — Victor J. Banis

As we figuratively sit beside ourselves and inquire, listen and name our experience, we see Mara clearly and open our heart in tenderness for the suffering before us. — Tara Brach

Tugging her arm free of his, she moved over to a stone bench flanked by some exotic-looking red flowers and took a seat. She was not amused when he took a seat right beside her, crowding her in the process. "When did you get so large?" she asked, scooting as casually as she could away from him, not allowing herself to dwell on why his nearness was bothering her. "When I began working in a steel mill." Wilhelmina — Jen Turano

When you get to be my age, you gain a heightened awareness of time . . . how limited it is, and you tend to move toward social interactions that are meaningful and away from negative, trivial people who are downright toxic. — Sarah Jo Smith

Butterflies prove that God gives second chances. Because a butterfly spends most of its life as a caterpillar, scooting along on the ground, barely getting by. When a caterpillar sees a butterfly he thinks how wonderful it would be to fly. And then one day he gets tired. Very tired. He builds a little room, curls up inside, and takes a nap. Deep in his heart he wonders if maybe that's all. Maybe life is over. But one day the caterpillar wakes up, and God has done an amazing thing. The caterpillar hakes off the little room and feels something on his back. This time when he goes a bit down the tree branch he doesn't scoot like before. He flies! — Karen Kingsbury

If tomorrow, ninety percent of the world's population started scooting around on its collective asses while wearing dead raccoons as hats, people who walked on two feet and were visibly raccoonless would be called "weird. — Johnny B. Truant

The artist is the person who invents the means to bridge between biological inheritance and the environments created by technological innovation. — Marshall McLuhan

It was the kind of barbarously sticky American afternoon that made me yearn for the shadows cast by scooting summer clouds in northern Europe ... — Joseph O'Neill

I learned another rule, men don't buy men flowers — Dora Okeyo

I found myself scooting behind the coffee table like the outraged virgin in some Victorian melodrama. "Jack, this isn't a good time. I'm really tired and I'm not thinking straight."
"That's what makes it a great time. If you were rested and sober, it'd be a hell of a lot harder to argue with you."
-Ella & Jack — Lisa Kleypas

We are all the product of our minds and why Gandhi said ... Become the change we want to see. Because if we don't change our minds for the better ... we will never see the changes in humanity. — Timothy Pina

Want to copy my stellar notes?" Cooper asked, scooting his desk closer.
Glancing at his notes, I shrugged. "You do have very nice penmanship. Dainty even."
"Bitch."
"Jackass."
"Gorgeous."
"Stud."
"You have no idea. — Bijou Hunter

A walk is exploring surfaces and textures with finger, toe, and - yuck - tongue; standing still and seeing who or what comes by; trying out different forms of locomotion (among them running, marching, high-kicking, galloping, scooting, projectile falling, spinning, and noisy shuffling). It is archeology: exploring the bit of discarded candy wrapper; collecting a fistful of pebbles and a twig and a torn corner of a paperback; swishing dirt back and forth along the ground. It is stopping to admire the murmuring of the breeze in the trees; locating the source of the bird's song; pointing. Pointing! - using the arm to extend one's fallen gaze so someone else can see what you've seen. It is a time of sharing. On our block, — Alexandra Horowitz

Not even the most powerful organs of the press, including Time, Newsweek, and The New York Times, can discover a new artist or certify his work and make it stick. They can only bring you the scores. — Thomas Wolfe

WE WERE SCOOTING THROUGH the library — Anonymous

Very few people have made the transition from animation to live-action; I'm certainly not one. — Henry Selick

Balloons
Since Christmas they have lived with us, Guileless and clear, Oval soul-animals, Taking up half the space, Moving and rubbing on the silk Invisible air drifts, Giving a shriek and pop When attacked, then scooting to rest, barely trembling. Yellow cathead, blue fish
Such queer moons we live with Instead of dead furniture! Straw mats, white walls And these traveling Globes of thin air, red, green, Delighting The heart like wishes or free Peacocks blessing Old ground with a feather Beaten in starry metals. Your small Brother is making His balloon squeak like a cat. Seeming to see A funny pink world he might eat on the other side of it, He bites, Then sits Back, fat jug Contemplating a world clear as water. A red Shred in his little fist. — Sylvia Plath

I knew she overre
holy shit! he yelled, falling back on his ass and scooting away from the largest spider he'd ever seen. — R.L. Mathewson

Here is a sermon for you, Reverend: Everything not dead dies. Just like those little fellows scooting around beside that dead mamma goose, little downy fellas who are gonna meet a hungry weasel or vicious farm dog before nightfall, their world stands in chaos, and not of their own doing. — Allan Dare Pearce

Go with polar bears, I say to myself. Polar bears at the North Pole. Baby polar bears scooting along after their mothers in the snow. Polar bears drinking Coca-Cola. — Cynthia Hand

Do you have to sit so close?" she asked on a ragged breath. "Yes." was his only reply. "want to tell me why?"
"no." (Darius replied) "i don't like it." She insisted scooting from him for the second time. He moved closer "want to tell me why?" he parroted. "No" she parroted right back. — Gena Showalter

I know that look." I put one arm out in from of me. He didn't stop. "Chris, we have to get going." I backed up, scooting over to put the couch between us.
"What?" He feigned and innocent expression.
"You know what." He kept coming. I continued evasive maneuvers. "They're going to be waiting on us."
He shrugged. "It's not my wedding." His tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip before sucking it back into his mouth. "I'd rather push that way too tight dress up around your waist and bend you over the couch. — Sadie Grubor

That young man will go far, she said. I don't know in what direction, but he will go far. — Alexander McCall Smith

My New Year's resolution was to stop saying 'You go, girl' to myself. — Zach Galifianakis

Scooting forward, I pressed my lips to his smooth cheek. His eyes widened. — J. Lynn

The Bed Thing had happened two months ago. I'd wanted to move my bed, and decided to use magic to do it.Instead of scooting over a few feet, the bed had gone flying out the window, taking a big chunk of the wall with it.
Mrs. Casnoff had not been amused.
Especially since the Bed Thing had followed the Doritos Incident. Jenna had wanted chips; when I'd tried to make them appear, I'd flooded the hallway with Doritos. There were still traces of cheese dust in the floorboards. Before that, there was That Time With The Lotion (the less said about that, the better). — Rachel Hawkins

Come with me," he said quietly and extended his hand.
"Nuh-uh." I shook my head, scooting in the opposite direction . "I don't think so, All American Hero. — J.A. Saare

Whatcha got there?" Drake asked, nodding to the floor. "Snacks for me." I winked. "Well, now I'm offended." He fake pouted, scooting away from me in his seat, which made it even more funny because there was nowhere for him to go in the tiny car. "Why is that?" Nothing wrong with playing along, besides, he was cute when he was fake-mad. What was I saying? He was cute ALL the time. He turned to me and slid his arms around my waist, pulling me close. Far off, I caught a whiff of his scent. Mmm. Delicious. "It's just that I thought I was your snack on the go." His breath danced on my cheek, dangerously close to my lips. I giggled before I could stop myself. "Do you really want me to suck you dry?" "Mmm, that sounds like an offer I can't refuse." He raised his eyebrows and flashed a naughty grin. "Don't be dirty, I didn't mean that." I slapped his arm for good measure. "Is that all you think of me as - some kind of slutty vampire? — Karly Kirkpatrick