Scrolled Past Quotes & Sayings

Cinderella Rule #16
Standards. Goals. Everyone has them. Or should. But before you judge yourself a success or failure, make certain the standards you're applying are your own. And that the goals you're trying to achieve aren't being pursued for the wrong reasons. — Donna Kauffman

There was something beneath the surface of things. — Bret Easton Ellis

Where do you. come from?" Frank challenged, puffing his chest, a little bolder now that he could breathe. "Some of us are starting to wonder."
"I come from civilization," Lucius retorted. "You wouldn't be familiar with the territory. Now pick up the books. — Beth Fantaskey

Jim, here's what I'm going to do," Kalinske said, now skimming through his Rolodex. "I think I have the name of someone who might be very interested in hearing about what SGI has to offer." Kalinske scrolled past the beginning of the alphabet, slowing down as he approached the letter L. "Do you have a pen ready?" He kept skimming until he got to the contact information he was searching for: Lincoln, Howard. — Blake J. Harris

Marina Orlova was hooked on my quote about women not owing men. I scrolled through her posted paintings and recalled a Slovak friend once commenting on a guy wanna-be a great painter, something like this: "Aaano, on bol profesionalnym maljiarom na Slovensku, maloval tam pice a hakove krize po stenach". He meant graffiti, but I hesitate to translate it in detail for it may sound too rough. Another thought is about surreal, sometimes spurious aesthetics mixed with hinted or daring sexuality, which Marina Orlova endorses, deliberately or not, in line of her claimed profession. The posts call to mind The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover or even Titus Andronicus. No wonder, thousands of bozos are attracted to her internet activity because ... , well, the woman is hot. — Vinko Vrbanic

I scrolled through your order history at Victoria's Secret."
"Well, that's not at all creepy," she deadpanned.
"Did you know there are items in your shopping cart? Sweaters. Lots of thick, long, skin-covering sweaters. Frankly, it confused me."
"Maybe I already own plenty of lingerie. Considering I walk to work, sweaters are much more practical. Plus they're awfully cute."
"I added a few things to your cart and checked out for you. I paid for it with my credit card. Expedited the shipping too, so you should have it by Monday."
"You added a few things?"
"One hint: not sweaters."
"How wildly inappropriate."
"Kid in a candy store. Couldn't help myself. — Tracey Garvis-Graves

Ben hid a wince behind his hand, trying very hard not to think of seventy-year-old Ellie Verstgard rolling around with Mr. Wenner. Despite his best resistance, the image scrolled across his brain and took some of his love for the world with it. — Victoria Dahl

I'm ... pretty sure I'm in love with Travis,"
My eyes still focused on the pavement, I handed Travis his phone, and then reluctantly peered up at his expression. A combination of confusion, shock, and adoration scrolled across his face.
He scanned my face with careful hope in his eyes. "You love me?"
"It's the tattoos," I shrugged.
A wide smile stretched across his face, making his dimple sink into his cheek. "Come home with me," he said, enveloping me in his arms.
My eyebrows shot up. "You said all that to get me in bed? I must have made quite an impression."
"The only thing I'm thinking about right now is holding you in my arms all night."
"Let's go," I smiled. — Jamie McGuire

Pictures form and dissolve in my head:
we are walking in a city
you fled, came back to and come back to still
which I saw once through winter frost
years back, before I knew you,
before I knew myself.
We are walking streets you have by heart from childhood
streets you have graven and erased in dreams:
scrolled portals, trees, nineteenth century statues.
We are holding hands so I can see
everything as you see it
I follow you into your dreams
your past, the places
none of us can explain to anyone. — Adrienne Rich

The phone in my hand buzzed, demanding my attention, and a text flashed on the screen. It was from Cletus and the sight made my heart lurch and twist, a pining ache stealing my breath. As I scrolled through my notifications, I noticed several texts.

Cletus: I'm sorry. I was wrong, you were right.

Cletus: I just realized you probably don't have your phone.

Cletus: I think I'm going to make myself useful by retrieving your phone.

Cletus: I just left your parents' house. I have your phone.

Cletus: Clearly I had your phone, if you're reading these messages. — Penny Reid

He hated sounding guilty. Terrible things always followed. — Mel Odom

He had to admit it: he'd missed being engrossed in a case. He even missed the microfiche machines he'd had to use before everything went online, tucked invariably in a corner surrounded by shelves of dusty atlases and encyclopedias. The machines were like old friends to him, the way the knob fit firmly in his hand, the way the text scrolled horizontally across the screen. — Sharon Guskin

Things decided, I returned my attention to the laptop and scrolled through the stats of the principle trading account.

Meanwhile, my younger brother was attempting to drill a hole into the side of my head with his eyeballs.

"I'll kindly ask you to stop trying to penetrate my brain with those laser beams you call eyes. — Penny Reid

Capitalism is about the mutual creation of wealth rather than the pillaging of it. — Ted Malloch

Tremors of fear scrolled up her back and across her scalp. Why did she have these dreams only when she slept on the beach? — Bonnie S. Calhoun

Reasonableness and positivity can feel like a kind of bullying. — Bonnie Jo Campbell

Even the simplest of cottages often picked up the decorative elements of the more formal styles as is evident in this Italianate cottage. Almost square, the one-story frame cottage at 543 Coombs duplicates the symmetry of the larger Italianates. Note also its low-pitched roof and projecting eaves supported by elaborate pierced and scrolled brackets. The molded window hoods supported by brackets top tall, narrow sash windows. The front porch could grace a much larger house with its molded cornice, columns, brackets, pierced arches, and turned balusters. In 1908, auctioneer J.T. Gamble lived — Anthony Raymond Kilgallin

I turned on the radio and scrolled through the stations until I found a new song by Maroon Five that I really liked. Susan reached over, turned it up louder, and began singing with Adam Levine. "He's so hot," she said, as the song ended. "I need to buy one of his CDs." "Yeah, I love his voice. — Kristen Middleton

If you and I are friends, there is an expectancy that exists within our relationship. When we see each other or are apart, there is an expectancy of being together, of laughing and talking. The expectancy has no concrete definition; it is alive and dynamic and everything that emerges from our being together is a unique gift shared by no one else. — Wm. Paul Young

Hither came Conan, the Cimmerian, black-haired, sullen-eyed, sword in hand, a thief, a reaver, a slayer, with gigantic melancholies and gigantic mirth, to tread the jeweled thrones of the Earth under his sandaled feet. — Robert E. Howard

Branches grew from his hands, his hair. His thoughts tangled like roots in the ground. He strained upward. Pitch ran like tears down his back. His name formed his core; ring upon ring of silence built around it. His face rose high above the forests. Gripped to earth, bending to the wind's fury, he disappeared within himself, behind the hard, wind-scrolled shield of his experiences. — Patricia A. McKillip

She navigated away from the Parish Council message board and dropped into her favorite medical website, where she painstakingly entered the words "brain" and "death" in the search box.
The suggestions were endless. Shirley scrolled through the possibilities, her mild eyes rolling up and down, wondering to which of these deadly conditions, some of them unpronounceable, she owed her present happiness. — J.K. Rowling

No one could see her out here, no one could judge her. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw the animal that she was trapped inside, that grew and fed and wanted. She wished above all else to look ordinary so that people's eyes just slid over her. Because Mum was wrong. It wasn't about believing this or that, it wasn't about good and evil and right and wrong, it was about finding the strength to bear the discomfort that came with being in the world. Clouds scrolled high up. She couldn't get Melissa out of her head. Something magnetic about her, the possibility of a softness inside, the challenge of peeling back those layers. — Mark Haddon

Brothers, oh brothers, my days here are done, the Dornishman's taken my life, But what does it matter, for all men must die, and I've tasted the Dornishman's wife! — George R R Martin

Your name?" I repeated, hoping it was my imagination that my voice faltered.
"Call me Patch. I mean it. Call me — Becca Fitzpatrick

For if there were a list of cosmic things that unite us, reader and writer, visible as it scrolled up into the distance, like the introduction to some epic science-fiction film, then shining brightly on that list would be the fact that we exist in a financial universe that is subject to massive gravitational pulls from states. States tug at us. States bend us. And, tirelessly, states seek to determine our orbits. — Mohsin Hamid

I scrolled on down to the obituaries. I usually read the obituaries first as there is always the happy chance that one of them will make my day. — Robert A. Heinlein

An empty bottle of Jack is almost just as beautiful as a new and unopened bottle ... in the same sense as looking down at muddied feet, and looking back the way you came. The journey you've taken to get to this point, the experiences and sights and music listened to, the shit scrolled down on paper. An empty bottle may hold more promise than a full one in that regard ... — Dave Matthes

It is a good sign in a nation when things are done badly. It shows that all the people are doing them. And it is bad sign in a nation when such things are done very well, for it shows that only a few experts and eccentrics are doing them, and that the nation is merely looking on. — G.K. Chesterton

Life is more than a heartbeat, Mage. It's the essence of our souls and the fiber of our beings. It is the breath of imagination within our souls; it's the fire in our hearts that burns for change and progress. Extinguish the fire and you have killed the man, even if he still draws breath. — Dannika Dark

Never be an artist that starts worshiping yourself or believe your little group is better than anyone outside of it. For, you are nothing more than a grain of sand on a hillside in this world of ours. Even Da Vinci's work is only glanced at then scrolled past on a phone or computer these days. Climb down off your throne and become humble once more. — Jason E. Hodges

The fuck," I mumbled, as I scrolled over more files. — Tiffany Rose

For all we know, this" - he scrolled up on the phone screen to find a label - "this Wikipedia information database here is compiled by complete idiots. — John Scalzi

Artham felt lighter and stronger, and for the first time in nine years, his mind was clear and sure. The words to a hundred of his own poems scrolled across his memory; he saw faces of old friends, battles he had fought, and even the most terrible moments of his life - and yet he remained himself. The wild animal inside that he had struggled so long to kill pulsed with power, but it was no longer his master. He rode the pain like a knight rides a horse. ...
Artham's eyes watered from the wind and from the speed and from the magnificent beauty of the land arrayed below him. Water streaked from the corners of his eyes ... and , in the vicious cold froze into silvery jewels.
He would have to write a poem about this. — Andrew Peterson

They downloaded another customer query, and Mae scrolled through the boilerplates, found the appropriate answer, personalized it, and sent it back. — Dave Eggers

Cursing, Scarlet pressed the unlock mechanism again. Nothing. Then the control panel pinged, startling her, and a message scrolled across the top. BE CAREFUL, SCARLET. Her jaw fell. What - ? — Marissa Meyer

I casually lean against the mailbox and pretend to ignore the fact that she totally just checked me out. I'll ignore it to save her embarassment, but I'm definitely not going to forget it. In fact, I'll probably be thinking about the way her eyes scrolled down my body for the rest of the damn day. — Colleen Hoover