Seconds Apart Quotes & Sayings
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Top Seconds Apart Quotes

How will we ever tell you apart?" Collins asked, unable to resist the question.
"It's really quite simple, sir, once you know us," the spokesman assured him. "If he's talking, it's probably George, because Geoff is a quiet lad; if he's dancing a hornpipe, it's Geoff, because hornpipes make me dizzy."
"You're George, then?"
"Yes, sir - the eldest."
"By five minutes and fifty-five seconds," added Geoffrey, frowning.
"Five minutes and fifty-nine seconds," George corrected him calmly. — Sarah Brazytis

Your attention for a moment. This is Rewind showing you edited footage from my database. I've probably got about naught point eight seconds before game over, so hear me out. I've always been terrified that you'd die before I did. Because you and me apart strikes me as intensely wrong. So promise me something: be brave. Be strong. And keep going without me. And another thing: no more injecting- it will kill you. And remember: you deserve to be happy. The New Institute was the old you. You're a better person now- stubborn and frustrating but wonderful! And to think I will never see you again. One more thing - one last thing - because I don't say it enough: I love you. — James Roberts

I shook my head, sweeping my lips across hers. Not good enough. "I need to hear you say it. I need to know you're mine."
"I've been yours since the second we
met," she said, begging. I stared into her eyes for a few seconds, and then felt my mouth turn up into a half smile, hoping her words were true and not just spoken in the moment. I leaned down and kissed her tenderly, and then she slowly pulled me into her. My entire body felt like it was melting inside of her.
"Say it again." Part of me couldn't believe it was all really happening.
"I'm yours." She breathed. "I don't ever want to be apart from you again."
"Promise me," I said, groaning with another thrust.
"I love you. I'll love you forever." She looked straight into my eyes when she spoke, and it finally clicked that her words weren't just an empty promise. — Jamie McGuire

For several seconds, they stand there, ... just four feet apart now, but separated by a thick granite counter, by fifty years and two fully lived lives. No one speaks. No one breathes. — Jess Walter

He swallowed again. "Why?"
When I opened my mouth to answer, my lips started trembling - from nerves or regret I don't know - and it took a few seconds to actually force the words out. "Because you have to find Nicholas. And I can't handle that right now. I know I said I could, but I can't." Breathing as deeply as I could, I took Daniel's closeness inside me, feeling all the while like I was on the edge of suffocating. "I'm about to fall apart, and I need time."
"I need you."
"You need me to kill-"
"No!" Daniel's face flushed, and he fixed his mouth shut, inhaling rapidly through his nose while trying to regain control. "You aren't going anywhere near Dmitri. Not ever. He's my responsibility. — Angela B. Wade

I was just a kid and I didn't have a dad. That's hard, because when you're a kid, you blame yourself for everything. And I blamed myself for him not being around, for my parents not being together. — Jonathan Rhys Meyers

Davout looked up and gazed intently at him. For some seconds they looked at one another, and that look saved Pierre. Apart from conditions of war and law, that look established human relations between the two men. At that moment an immense number of things passed dimly through both their minds, and they realized that they were both children of humanity and were brothers. — Leo Tolstoy

She remembers blood.
A fine mist which goes deep into her lungs, over her skin and through the air. She remembers a desert at dusk. The sky indigo blue and the fire bright, so bright that she can see everything. Near the fire, in the night, all she knows is chaos wrapped in crimson. All is death and nightmare with a single solitary dancer who smiles cruelly as he moves. He is power and darkness. He is man and beast, silver coin eyes and that face, those claws and the agony of loss.
Time stretches wide; seconds like vast eons swallow up her world. Vince is dead, his mother, his brother and her small son ripped apart and gushing as he/it moves. She is screaming, a howl of agony beyond words, primal and wordless. Still he moves, faster than air, faster than she could ever be. Blood drips from her face as she grunts, running with her lungs on fire and her last remaining hope wrapped in her arms. — Amanda M. Lyons

Through pain I've learned to comfort suffering men — Virgil

When I am with you, hours feel like seconds. When we are apart, days feel like years — Swapna Rajput

If you make your relationship with your Inner Being your top priority, and you deliberately choose thoughts that allow your alignment, you will consistently offer the greatest advantage to others with whom you interact. Only when you are aligned with your Source do you have anything to offer another. — Esther Hicks

There is no right to a job or a wage rate, but there is a right to move from one country to another in search of a better life. This is the point of view of Thomas Jefferson, John Locke and other great supporters of the natural rights tradition in America. — Alex Tabarrok

Women are queer, unreasoning creatures, and are just as likely as not to love a man who has been throwing away his affection. — Elizabeth Gaskell

Always told me what he wanted and needed . . . how good he felt when I made love to him. He was holding himself back, denying me the satisfaction of knowing I pleased him. — Sylvia Day

In the case of a single nineteen year old infantry soldier mangled in the devastating blast of a carefully laid roadside bomb, some fifty or even sixty years of exigent torment - some 500,000 hours of constant, inescapable misery - has been created out of virtually nothing, far exceeding the total output of brutal (albeit dazzling) terror felt by another less fortunate soldier in the seconds before his body is irreparably torn apart by shrapnel and his life is extinguished on a poorly defined battlefield, his account closed forever. — John Zande

In this sport luck and tragedy are only a few hundredths of seconds apart from each other. — Jacky Ickx

Consider it this way. The present is a split second, so tiny and trivial as to be immaterial. Everything else, everything real and substantial, is a coral reef of dead split seconds, forming the islands and continents of our reality. Every moment is a brick in the wall of the past, building enormous structures that have identity and meaning, cities we live in. The future is wet shapeless clay, the present is so brief it barely exists, but the past houses and shelters us, gives us a home and a name; and the mortar that binds those bricks, that stops them from sliding apart into a nettle-shrouded ruin, is memory. — K.J. Parker

Then she's gone, and it feels like everything I've built here is seconds away from crumbling around me. Like a house of cards destroyed by a simple breath. And all I can think is if things are going to fall apart, I'm not going to stand here trying to catch the pieces. — Cora Carmack

Late in the afternoon, thunder growling, that same old green pickup rolled in and he saw Jack get out of the truck, beat up Resistol tilted back. A hot jolt scalded Ennis and he was out on the landing pulling the door closed behind him. Jack took the stairs two and two. They seized each other by the shoulders, hugged mightily, squeezing the breath out of each other, saying, son of a bitch, son of a bitch, then, and easily as the right key turns the lock tumblers, their mouths came together, and hard, Jack's big teeth bringing blood, his hat falling to the floor, stubble rasping, wet saliva welling, and the door opening and Alma looking out for a few seconds at Ennis's straining shoulders and shutting the door again and still they clinched, pressing chest and groin and thigh and leg together, treading on each other's toes until they pulled apart to breathe and Ennis, not big on endearments, said what he said to his horses and his daughters, little darlin. — Annie Proulx

The driver stopped dead rather than run the boy over. Five seconds later an IED ripped apart the front of the vehicle with concussive force that became engulfing flame. — Matt Wallace

Talkativeness is afraid of the silence which reveals its emptiness, Kierkegaard once said. Now you know why sharing, commenting, clicking, and participating are pushed so strongly by blogs and entertainment sites. They don't want silence. No wonder blogs auto refresh with new material every thirty seconds. Of course they want to send updates to your mobile phone and include you on e-mail alerts. If the users stops for even a second, they may see what is really going on. And then the business model would fall apart. — Ryan Holiday

The thing with drama is you're allowed to invent people who are maybe slightly better than real people. — Birgitte Hjort Sorensen

There are times when I can't stop speaking, when a million words leave my mouth in a matter of seconds ... a million words that mean nothing ... but when I want to find some words that mean everything, I just can't speak. Like: I miss you. Like: I love you. Like: My world is falling apart and I need you by my side. — Rae Earl

I will never sit down with Gerry Adams ... he'd sit with anyone. He'd sit down with the devil. In fact, Adams does sit down with the devil. — Ian Paisley

There are moments in a creative life when you understand why you do it. Those moments might last a few seconds or maybe, for some people, years. But whatever the actual time that passes, they still feel like a single moment. Fragile in the way a moment is, liable to be shattered by a breath, set apart from all the other passing time, distinct.
But then it changes. And what seemed unimaginably exhilarating gets bogged down, even when a project is going well. It is a gradual, inevitable sobering during which your right to be passive diminishes. What the ether has given you, now in fact belongs to you. And then it is work. Then it is hard. — Robin Black

Genius is the gold in the mine, talent is the miner who works and brings it out. — Marguerite Gardiner, Countess Of Blessington