Quotes & Sayings About Something Coming Back To You

Where's Ben?" she asked after another painful swallow. The angle of the light in the room signaled morning. She'd survived the first horrible night of the illness. That was something for which to be grateful. "He didn't want to go. But your mama kicked him out yesterday." Phoebe bounded to the hearth fire and removed another pot of steaming water she had dangling from a gridiron that belonged to the kitchen. Susanna fought a wave of dizziness and frustration. "But don't you worry none." Phoebe returned to the bedside with the steaming pot, the scent of sassafras and rum drifting under the canopy of her bed. "It's gonna take a pack of wolves to keep that man from coming back to see you. — Jody Hedlund

I gave his a squeeze and relaxed beside him, wondering if this was how it felt.
If this was how it felt to get what you wanted for a lifetime.
Have it stretched out beside you.
The promise of it there all night so you'd wake up to it in the morning.
The promise of it going to work the next day with you knowing it was coming back.
A promise that would stay a promise-beautiful, forever there, beckoning, even as minute by minute it was being fulfilled, leaving you taking your last breath on earth knowing you lived a life filled with beauty.
If it was, it was weirdly serene.
You'd think something that magnificent would be about fireworks.
But if this was it, it wasn't.
It was quiet, tranquil, comfortable.
Beauty. — Kristen Ashley

Say something in Mandarin," said Tessa, with a smile.
Jem said something that sounded like a lot of breathy vowels and
consonants run together, his voice rising and falling melodically: "Ni
hen piao liang."
"What did you say?" Tessa was curious.
"I said your hair is coming undone - here," he said, and reached out
and tucked an escaping curl back behind her ear. Tessa felt the blood
spill hot up into her face, and was glad for the dimness of the
carriage. "You have to be careful with it," he said, taking his hand
back, slowly, his fingers lingering against her cheek. — Cassandra Clare

Priss tried to open her door, but it still didn't budge. "Unlock it."
Instead he pulled her around to face him. He started to blast her, but something funny happening. Instead of reading her the riot act, he stared into her eyes, then down at her mouth. His entire demeanor changed. He looked just as tense, but now for different, hotter reasons.
He still stared intently at her mouth when Priss heard the lock click open. She glanced down and saw that Trace had reached back for the door, all without breaking that disturbing, electrifying visual contact with her.
She met his gaze again, and softened. Damn, but resisting Trace wouldn't be easy, not if he kept looking at her like that. "You're coming in, too?"
"Yes." Suddenly, almost violently, he turned away from her and left the car. Still a gentleman, he strode around to her side and opened her door. "Let's get this night over with."
Well. That sounded insulting. — Lori Foster

Cherish your solitude. Take trains by yourself to places you have never been. Sleep out alone under the stars. Learn how to drive a stick shift. Go so far away that you stop being afraid of not coming back. Say no when you don't want to do something. Say yes if your instincts are strong, even if everyone around you disagrees. Decide whether you want to be liked or admired. Decide if fitting in is more important than finding out what you're doing here. Believe in kissing. — Eve Ensler

I've had to really teach myself that when you're not feeling it, you shouldn't write anything down because you're going to end up coming back and re-writing it later. Whereas, if you write when you're feeling something, when you're really in the streak, then that's when you're going to get your best stuff. — Corey Taylor

It's not nuclear physics. You always remember that. But if you write about sports long enough, you're constantly coming back to the point that something buoys people; something makes you feel better for having been there. Something of value is at work there ... Something is hallowed here. I think that something is excellence. — Tom Callahan

It's never safe to be nostalgic about something until you're absolutely certain there's no chance of its coming back — Bill Vaughan

You know they used to use nails," he says. "In the old days. Poor folks still do. Not the best idea, a nail in a coffin." Bowman says nothing, but in his mind, he asks, Coffin? The man nods, smiling. He picks up something now, and shows it to Bowman, for inspection. It is a long brass screw. "That's better," he says. "Better than a nail. Notice anything about it?" Bowman shakes his head. "The screw runs widdershins. Back to front. 'Gainst the clock. All the other screws in the world turn the other way to this one. But coffin screws are different. " Bowman forms a word in his mind. Why? The coffin maker smiles. "To stop them from coming back, of course. — Marcus Sedgwick

In the very act of writing I felt pleased with what I did. There was the pleasure of having words come to me, and the pleasure of ordering them, re-ordering them, weighing one against another. Pleasure also in the imagination of the story, the feeling that it could mean something. Mostly I was glad to find out that I could write at all. In writing you work toward a result you won't see for years, and can't be sure you'll ever see. It takes stamina and self-mastery and faith. It demands those things of you, then gives them back with a little extra, a surprise to keep you coming. It toughens you and clears your head. I could feel it happening. I was saving my life with every word I wrote, and I knew it. — Tobias Wolff

I finally felt ready to put my broken
love to rest. But, you couldn't put something to rest when it kept coming back to haunt you. — Tarryn Fisher

*The best way to describe Mr. Windling would be like this: You are at a meeting. You'd like to be away early. So would everyone else. There really isn't very much to discuss, anyway. And just as everyone can see Any Other Business coming over the horizon and is putting their papers neatly together, a voice says "If I can raise a minor matter, Mr. Chairman ... " and with a horrible wooden feeling in your stomach you know, now, that the evening will go on for twice as long with much referring back to the minutes of earlier meetings. The man who has just said that, and is now sitting there with a smug smile of dedication to the committee process, is as near Mr. Windling as makes no difference. And something that distinguishes the Mr. Windlings of the universe is the term "in my humble opinion," which they think adds weight to their statements rather than indicating, in reality, "these are the mean little views of someone with the social grace of duckweed". — Terry Pratchett

We were about a mile from school, on a path in the park, when Chirag reached down and took off his shoes, tossing them into the trees beside us.

"What are you doing?" I shouted in between breaths. Step, breath. Step, breath. He was a few yards ahead of me. I took advantage of his pause to pass him; I wasn't about to let him beat me.

"There's a tribe of Indians in Mexico who are the best runners in the world," he shouted. "They run barefoot for miles and miles and never break a sweat."

"You're not that kind of Indian," I shouted back, and Chirag laughed, his golden skin shimmering beneath his sweat.

"You should try it, too!"

"No way!" I replied without turning around to face him. "The ground is filthy. There could be glass or splinters or something."

"Aw, come on, Maisie," he cooed, coming up on my left side and getting a few steps ahead of me once more. "I dare you. — Alyssa B. Sheinmel

I'd had more than my fair share of near-death experiences; it wasn't something
you ever really got used to.
It seemed oddly inevitable, though, facing death again. Like I really was marked
for disaster. I'd escaped time and time again, but it kept coming back for me.
Still, this time was so different from the others.
You could run from someone you feared, you could try to fight someone you
hated. All my reactions were geared toward those kinds of killers - the monsters,
the enemies.
When you loved the one who was killing you, it left you no options. How could
you run, how could you fight, when doing so would hurt that beloved one? If your
life was all you had to give your beloved, how could you not give it?
If it was someone you truly loved? — Stephenie Meyer

But when you look at CMB map, you also see that the structure that is observed, is in fact, in a weird way, correlated with the plane of the earth around the sun. Is this Copernicus coming back to haunt us? That's crazy. We're looking out at the whole universe. There's no way there should be a correlation of structure with our motion of the earth around the sun - the plane of the earth around the sun - the ecliptic. That would say we are truly the center of the universe. The new results are either telling us that all of science is wrong and we're the center of the universe, or maybe the data is (s)imply incorrect, or maybe it's telling us there's something weird about the microwave background results and that maybe, maybe there's something wrong with our theories on the larger scales. — Lawrence M. Krauss

I walked down to the village with five Sceltie puppies. I came back to the Hall with four."
"And the fifth ?"
"By now, I'm sure Sylvia has convinced the little bitch to let go of Mikal's trousers. And Mrs Beale promised to send her recipe for puppy biscuits to Sylvia's cook."
"Mrs Beale agreed to share a recipe," Saetan said slowly.
"Mrs Beale agreed that I could pay for ... I'm not sure what it is except that it's something she wanted for the kitchen but couldn't justify as a normal household expense."
"And you agreed to fund this in exchange for a recipe ?"
Daemon stared at his father for a long moment before he muttered, "She sharpened the meat cleaver before coming to talk to me."
One beat of silence. Two. Then Saetan burst out laughing. — Anne Bishop

For a second we just stand there in silence. Then, suddenly, Alex is back,
easy and smiling again. "I left a note for you one time. In the Governor's fist, you
know?"
I left a note for you one time. It's impossible, too crazy to think about, and I
hear myself repeating, "You left a note for me?"
"I'm pretty sure it said something stupid. Just hi, and a smiley face, and my
name. But then you stopped coming." He shrugs. "It's probably still there. The
note, I mean. Probably just a bit of paper pulp by now. — Lauren Oliver

I definitely think that theatre is something I'll keep coming back to in my career for as long as I can. I also think theatre's something you have to be very fit to do. I am fairly fit, but I don't think I could do it all the time. — Daniel Radcliffe

Some friends and I, we went right up there behind the studio and we got on a train, we could tell it was going to go to Roseville. We got off it and got on another train. And we got to Roseville, and it takes hours to get through that yard. It's really big. So we ended up just coming back here. It's like fishing or hunting. You can't always come back with something. — William T. Vollmann

That's when I started doing the Our Father again. I have no idea why. It just sort of poured out of me. And I recited it way too fast, like there was some sort of creepy priest in the back seat trying to damn me or something. But when I got to the part about the Kingdom, the Power and the Glory, I said the Kingdom, the Power and the Gory. I even repeated the line, knowing that I was making a mistake, but Gory just kept coming out. It felt like someone else was making me say it, which is a pretty frightening situation when you're all alone and you've just hijacked your parents' car. — Adam Rapp

Its not healthy to miss something that's never coming back. All you end up doing is hating your reality. — Melissa Perea

Coming home at the end of a long day to someone who's glad you're back, is the feeling that keeps him logging on and playing upward of forty hours a week in preparation for a raid like this, when he gathers with his anonymous online friends and together they go kill something big and deadly. — Nathan Hill

Your father used to say that being scared just meant you had something worth coming back to" Queen Maureen said "And he used to tell me he was scared all the time. — Jodi Picoult

The values my mother taught me were like, if you're going to do something, don't half-ass it. I remember her literally saying that to me. Like the first time I ever heard the term half-ass was coming from my mother's lips. I was probably 8 or 9. If you're going to do something, go ahead and throw 115 percent at it, and if you get 100 percent back, well, there you go - you're perfect. — Justin Timberlake

I've got to stop him before he takes it too far, before there's no coming back. Once you cross that line ... something happens inside. I can't describe it, but it feels like I'm rotting, pieces of me blackening and dying every damn day. — C.M. Stunich

Ew.'
'Yeah,' Claire said. 'I need a shower.'
'I don't think a shower's going to cut it. Maybe fire hoses, and those brushes they use on elephants.' Eve stepped back and offered Shane a hand up as he finally got untangled.
'Speaking of elephants, you sounded like a herd of something coming down the stairs,' he said. 'What the hell are your shoes made of? Hooves? — Rachel Caine

Well, good night," he said cheerfully. "Thanks for dinner."
"Oh. Right." I took a half step back toward the house. "You're welcome."
"Ella."
"Yeah?"
"You've gotta be kidding."
PECo hadn't some yet, so it was pretty dark where we were standing. I don't know how his hand found mine so fast, but one second I was thinking about how much I didn't want to say good night, and the next I was up against his chest, standing on my toes with my feet between his.
"Is this okay?" he asked, his breath chocolaty and warm against my forehead.
"Yeah," I answered, my own breath coming in quick little jumps. "Yeah."
"Good.I have something I have to tell you."
I waited.
"I hate that Klimt painting," he said. "I really hate it."
Then he was folding me into his coat and his face was right above mine, and there was only one kiss that mattered. — Melissa Jensen

I guess you're coming as my date now." Simon shoved the phone into his pocket.
"I'm secure enough in my masculinity to accept that," said Jordan. "We better get you something nice to wear, though," he called as Simon headed back into his room. "I want you to look pretty. — Cassandra Clare

I mean that I'd change into something I shouldn't." Miss Saeki looks at me with great interest. "As long as there's such a thing as time, everybody's damaged in the end, changed into something else. It always happens, sooner or later." "But even if that happens, you've got to have a place you can retrace your steps to." "A place you can retrace your steps to?" "A place that's worth coming back to." Miss — Haruki Murakami

And then, that feeling comes again when you seem invincible and totally awesome. You simply can't hold it in and you just smile to everyone you come across; infectiously, they have no choice but to smile back. You are more than convinced in your guts that something beautifully indescribable is coming your way. You just drown yourself in the feeling of awesomeness. Faith, probably . . . or the hands of providence? — Ufuoma Apoki

It's just that every time I've come home for the past five years - before that, even. From college - something's changed a little more . . ." " - and you're not sure you like it, eh?" Henry was grinning in the moonlight and she could see him. She sat up. "I don't know if I can tell you, honey. When you live in New York, you often have the feeling that New York's not the world. I mean this: every time I come home, I feel like I'm coming back to the world, and when I leave Maycomb it's like leaving the world. It's silly. I can't explain it, and what makes it sillier is that I'd go stark raving living in Maycomb." Henry said, "You wouldn't, you know. I don't mean to press you for an answer - don't move - but you've got to make up your mind to one thing, Jean Louise. You're gonna see change, you're gonna see Maycomb change its face completely in our lifetime. Your trouble, now, you want to have your cake and eat it: you want to stop the clock, but you can't. Sooner or later you'll — Harper Lee

As I came closer, it took shape: long, slender, and curling, with numerous heart-shaped leaves. I felt my soul leap inside me.
For Ivy's tree was now hung with her namesake. Jade-green ivy clutched the bark with such strength that, no matter how hard you pulled, it would never let go.
I know I started crying then.
My friends came to my side at once, patting my back and telling me that everything was going to be okay. And though the tears kept coming, I knew they were right. Everything was really going to be fine now.
Because here, in front of me, was something I'd been hoping and praying for. I'd been searching for a sign, a signal to give me comfort in Ivy's passing and to tell me she was okay. And at last, here it was, growing all around me. — Colleen Boyd

Being scared just meant you had something worth coming back to. — Jodi Picoult

And once it's reached that point, I'm left as alone as I've always known is the safest I could ever be. Except that I have the worst pain I've ever felt, and I feel it all. It's all of mine to feel. The only thing I'm sure is absolutely real. It keeps me company. The same way it would be trapped somewhere with someone that you hate. Wishing they weren't there, but needing them to be there. This is where the old survival skills start coming back, not quite as at my command as they used to be. They tell me to keep my right amount of distance, the only real way to be strong. But then I realize those parts of me that have been pieced together and have come back, to different degrees. Their revival works against survival. I know how to make myself untouchable. But when I tell myself how to, something answers me by telling me it's too late for that. — Ashly Lorenzana

Don't test me right now, Olivia. You don't know what it did to me - seeing you with those other males, seeing that Tranq's hands on you - " He broke off with a deep sound of frustration and came toward her again. "I didn't want him to," Liv said, still backing away. Her voice was coming out much more breathy than she wanted it to. "He just - " "He just assumed you were available because I hadn't marked you. But you're mine Lilenta. Can't stand another male's scent anywhere near you. Have to mark you. Now." The last word was a muted roar. Liv took another step back and something hit the backs of her thighs. Turning her head she saw it was the bed - Baird had backed her into the bedroom. "Please," she whispered. "What are you going to do to me?" "Whatever I have to, to make you mine. — Evangeline Anderson

What is fear but the worry of physical harm coming to the body? The notion that you will lose something-a person, a thing, your memories, yourself. Does he experience that? Do any of them experience that when they can just be put back together again? — Jadah McCoy

So you have the challenge of just learning the lines, period, and not only learning them, but learning them to the extent that you assimilate them, so that you're not worried about what the next word is coming out of your mouth when it comes to doing a scene. And you're also in the trenches with the writers, just in the wonderful kind of back and forth of how is it best to say something, even if it involves four or five words. I love that kind of thing. — Glenn Close

You want to hear something really sad?' I whisper. 'You're my best friend.'
'You're right. That is really sad.' Oliver grins.
'That's not what I meant.'
'Are we still playing True Confessions?' he asks.
'Is that what we're doing?'
He reaches toward me and rubs a strand of my hair between his fingers. 'I think you're beautiful,' Oliver says. 'Inside and out.'
He leans forward from the tiniest bit and breathes in, closing his eyes, before he lets the hair fall back against my cheek. I feel it inside me, as if I've been shocked.
I don't pull away.
I don't want to pull away.
'I ... I don't know what to say,' I stammer.
Oliver's eyes light up. 'Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walk into mine,' he quotes. He moves slowly, so that I know what's coming, and kisses me. — Jodi Picoult

Vik?"
The little metallic bird postured on the windowsill, eyeing him coldly. Vik's paint was iridescent and glossed-something the mecha had never liked, since he said it made him look like a girlie bird. "I'm surprised you remember my name." Vik paused before he added an acerbic, "Asshole."
Syn laughed as he rolled away from Shahara. "You prickly little shit, get over here."
Vik swooped in to land between the two of them on the bed. He burst apart, shifting from bird form to that of a more traditional mechbot. With his hand, he smacked Syn in the arm. "I thought you were coming back for me."
"I tried. I really did, but by the time I could, I figured you'd be gone."
Vik hissed then looked at Shahara. "He lie to you like that?"
-Syn & Vik — Sherrilyn Kenyon

One must know something of the truth in order to lie convincingly." The president smiled. "Well, they've had enough time to play this game. I hope my belated reaction will not disappoint them." "No, sir. Alex must have half expected you to kick him out the door." "The thought's occurred to me more than once. His diplomatic charm has always been lost on me. That's the one thing about the Russians - they remind me so much of the mafia chieftains I used to prosecute. The same smattering of culture and good manners, and the same absence of morality." The president shook his head. He was talking like a hawk again. "Stay close, Jeff. I have George Farmer coming in here in a few minutes, but I want you around when our friend comes back." Pelt walked back to his office pondering the president's remark. It was, he admitted to himself, crudely accurate. The most wounding insult to an educated Russian was to be — Tom Clancy

Let me tell you something about dying: it's not as bad as they says.
it's the coming-back-to-life part that hurts. — Lauren Oliver

What are you doing out here this late?" A frown pulls at his mouth. "It's one in the morning."
"Me?" I walk across the lawn slowly, still not fully trusting. "What are you doing here?" And no, I don't believe he had just been driving by. "Are you stalking me?" Hunting me? I want to add.
He blinks. Some of the tension carving his face loosens then. Replaced with something else. He rubs at the back of his neck. The move is self-conscious. Innately human. Embarrassed.
"I - "
"You are," I pronounce, an unbidden smile coming to my mouth.
"Look," he grumbles, his eyes angry. Defensive. "I just wanted to see where you live."
I stop before him. "Why?"
He rubs the back of his neck again, this time the motion is savage, annoyed. With me or himself, I'm not sure. — Sophie Jordan

Don't cut too deep in your first prints."
"But what if we do dig too deep?" a girl in the front asked. "What happens then?"
Giulia reached out to the side, pulling up a print stained with inky shadows, but within its depths, the faint outlines of something else. An echo of what it had been still visible in the second plate.
"Cut too deep," she said, "and your image will keep coming back again and again, no matter how many times you rework it. — Danika Stone

My granda always told me that fall's the time to root up something you don't want coming back to trouble you.' Kote mimicked the quaver of an old man's voice. 'Things are too full of life in the spring months. In the summer, they're too strong and won't let go. Autumn ... ' He looked around at the changing leaves on the trees. 'Autumn's the time. In autumn everything is tired and ready to die. — Patrick Rothfuss

When someone shows you how little you mean to them and you keep coming back for more, before you know it you start to mean less to yourself. You are not made up of compartments! You are one whole person! What gets said to you gets said to all of you, ditto what gets done. Being treated like shit is not an amusing game or a transgressive intellectual experiment. It's something you accept, condone, and learn to believe you deserve. This is so simple. But I tried so hard to make it complicated. — Lena Dunham

Hey, Alec," he said.
The man was on his hands and knees, leaning his face into the middle of a bush; he grunted something that kind of sounded like a "Yeah?"
"Why are we spending so much time on this side of where we left them?"
Alec pulled himself out of the bush and looked back at him. "Seemed logical. I'd think they either followed us out of here to find us, or they were taken by the same yahoos who attacked us. Or ... maybe they went to investigate the fire."
Mark thought that was all barking up the wrong tree. "Or they ran away from the fire. Not every person on earth is as wacky-brained as you, good sir. Most people see a huge roaring inferno coming at them? They decide to cut and run. Just saying. — James Dashner

Tris," a low voice says behind me. I don't know why it doesn't startle me. Maybe because I am becoming Dauntless, and mental readiness is something I'm supposed to develop. Maybe because his voice is low and smooth and almost soothing. Whatever the reason over my shoulder. Four stands behind me with his gun slung across his back, just like mine. "Yes?" I say. "I came to find out what you think you're doing." "I'm seeking higher ground," I say. "I don't think I'm doing anything." I see his smile in the dark. "All right. I'm coming." I pause a second. He doesn't look at me the way Will, Christina, and Al sometimes do- like I am too small and too weak to be any use, and they pity me for it. But if he insists on coming with me, it is probably because he doubts me. — Veronica Roth

These days in movies you can always come back to a location or do an insert or do something, so that's not even an issue any more. But coming back every day to the same plane, it messes with your head. — Jaume Collet-Serra

You said you loved me. No one has ever said that to me before and it meant something. So if you think I'm going to let you get on a goddamn plane and fly out of my life, you've got another think coming." One strong hand grasped her knee and curled it around his waist. When he ground his erection into her damp center, her head fell back onto the mattress with a whimper. "I will follow you, do you understand me? You don't get to swoop in, make me fall in love with you, and bail. That's not how this is going to work." Daniel rotated his hips once, twice. "Can you live without this? Because I can't. I won't. — Tessa Bailey

From here on," Kanin said, "you will have to decide what kind of demon you will be. Not all meals will come to you so easily, ignorant and seeking to do you harm. What will you do if your prey invites you inside, offers you a place at the table? What will you do if they flee, or cower down, begging you not to hurt them? How you stalk your prey is something you must come to terms with, or you will quickly drive yourself mad. And once you cross that threshold, there is no coming back from it. — Julie Kagawa

Funny thing about those Middle Ages, said Joseph. They just keep coming back. Mortals keep thinking they're in Modern Times, you know, they get all this neat technology and pass all these humanitarian laws, and then something happens: there's an economic crisis, or science makes some discovery people can't deal with. And boom, people go right back to burning Jews and selling pieces of the true Cross. Don't you ever make the mistake of thinking that mortals want to live in a golden age. They hate thinking. — Kage Baker

DEAR MISS MANNERS:
Should you tell your mother something if it is important when she is talking to company? I am six.
GENTLE READER:
Yes, you should (after saying "Excuse me"). Here are some of the things that are important to tell your mother, even though she is talking to company:
"Mommy, the kitchen is full of smoke."
"Daddy's calling from Tokyo."
"Kristen fell out of her crib and I can't put her back."
"There's a policeman at the door and he says he wants to talk to you."
"I was just reaching for my ball, and the goldfish bowl fell over."
Now, here are some things that are not important, so they can wait until your mother's company has gone home:
"Mommy, I'm tired of playing blocks. What do I do now?"
"The ice-cream truck is coming down the street."
"Can I give Kristen the rest of my applesauce?"
"I can't find my crayons."
"When are we going to have lunch? I'm hungry. — Judith Martin

There's something odd about working 24/7, being consumed with everything that's happening in Iraq, and then coming back to the country that ordered you over there only to realize that a lot of Americans are not really paying attention. — Phil Klay

Well, you've got the growling part down pat already. Probaly all those years of practice."
He began to rise, his legs wobbly.
"All right, I'm coming back. I just didn't want to be in your way."
A grunt. Your not. Or that's what I hoped he meant.
"You can understand me, can't you?" I said as I returned to sit on his discarded sweatshirt. "You know what I'm saying."
He tried to nod, then snarled at the awkwardness of it.
"Not easy when you can't talk, is it?" I grinned. "Well, not easy for you. I could get used to it."
He grumbled, but I coulld see the relief in his eyes, like he was glad to see me smile.
"So I was right, wasn't I? It's still you even if wolf form."
He grunted.
"No sudden urges to go kill something?"
He rolled his eyes.
"Hey, you're the one who was worried." I paused. "And I don't smell like dinner, right?"
I got a real good look for that one.
"Just covering my bases. — Kelley Armstrong

You haven't seen your father since you were eight?'
He shook his head.
'No word. No contact. No nothing?'
'Nothing.'
Daisy's eyes looked right and left before coming back to his. 'Is he alive?'
Erik turned looked into the blue-green eyes studying him so intently. He was surprised he had revealed this to someone he barely knew. Normally this was the card he kept closest to his chest. Yet something about Daisy looking at him, her expression calm and interested, sympathetic but not pitying, tactfully curious, seemed to be reaching into the tangle of emotions comprising the experience of being so cruelly deserted, and gently drawing out a thread. — Suanne Laqueur

He made a wild gesture as if to knock the old man's hat off, called out something like "Catch me if you can," and went racing away across the white, open Circus. Concealment was impossible now; and looking back over his shoulder, he could see the black figure of the old gentleman coming after him with long, swinging strides like a man winning a mile race. But the head upon that bounding body was still pale, grave and professional, like the head of a lecturer upon the body of a harlequin. — G.K. Chesterton

I have been very fortunate to be a part of tours with other artists that have exposed me to new places that I've never been before. Once you discover something beautiful, you just want to keep coming back. — Sara Bareilles

When the pages are in the typewriter, I can't see his face.
In that way i am choosing you over him.
I don't need to see him.
I don't need to know if he is looking up at me.
It's not even that I trust him not to leave.
I know this won't last.
I'd rather be me than him.
The words are coming so easily.
The pages are coming easily.
At the end of my dream, Eve put the apple back on the branch. The tree went back into the ground. It became a sapling, which became a seed.
God brought together the land and the water, the sky and the water, the water and the water, evening and morning, something and nothing.
He said, Let there be light.
And there was darkness. — Jonathan Safran Foer

When I do things, like, with Josh Grobin, or he has so many fans, and I get people after my concerts, classical concerts, all the time coming back and saying, 'Never heard of you until I heard the song with Josh Grobin.' Then they're now classical music fans, which is something I think we need to reach a wider audience. — Joshua Bell

Have you ever felt despair? Absolute hopelessness? Have you ever stood in the darkness and known, deep in your heart, in your spirit, that it was never, ever going to get better? That something had been lost, forever, and that it wasn't coming back? — Jim Butcher

Sylvie's sort of pregnant. Well not sort of. She is. Pregnant. Actually pregnant with a baby.'
'Oh Dexter! Do you know the father? I'm kidding! Congratulations, Dex. God, aren't you meant to space your bombshells out a bit. Not just drop them all at once?'
She held his face in both hands, looked at it.
'You're getting married?-'
'Yes'
-'And you're going to be a father?'
'I know! Fuck me a father!'
'Is that allowed? I mean will they let you?'
'Apparently'
'I think it's wonderful. Fucking hell, Dexter, I turn my back for one minute ... !'
She hugged him once again her arms high round his neck. She felt drunk, full of affection and a certain sadness too, as if something was coming to an end. She wanted to say something along these lines, but thought it best to do this through a joke.
'Of course you've destroyed any chance I had of future happiness, but I'm delighted for you, really. — David Nicholls

We're coming up on Ritadaria," he told Syn. "Bet you never thought you'd be back here." "Not alive, anyway. What about you?" "As a tracer and tracker, I bill them, but it doesn't mean I like it here any more than you do. I try to avoid coming here to the planet as much as I can." Shahara frowned. "Aren't you afraid they'll arrest you?" Nero snorted. "I wasn't a convict, Dagan. I was an illegally purchased slave. My owner"-he sneered the term-"has no legal claim on me. And I'm no longer a kid learning my powers. I'm a full-grown man with an ax I want to bury in the forehead of anyone dumb enough to come at me. I defy the bastards to try something now."
- Nero, Syn, & Shahara — Sherrilyn Kenyon

There's nothing.
Nothing to hold on to while the current takes me.
Whatever I might have had until today, I've lost.
I feel my love for her, swelling; bloating into something that's about to explode, like an abscess that's been allowed to rot for too long, but the pain drowns it so completely I know I'm never coming back out. This feeling, that you're choking and that your body is underwater, immersed in the ocean, a dense flood that overpowers your breathing abilities, and your will to survive gets drowned right along with it. And as I'm drowning I see her face and hear her voice - and it doesn't give me hope, it terrifies me. I'm terrified because I know she's going to be the death of me. I'm terrified because I know I won't be able to cope. I'm terrified because the darkness is the only true friend I've ever had and if it wants to embrace me I don't have the power to make it stop. — Kady Hunt

Listen, Mollie, I need to get home and let my parents know I'm alive. Then I am coming back for you. If my home is still standing, I'll provide a place for you and Frank as long as you need." "Why would you do that?" She looked a little taken aback, which surprised him. Because he loved her. Because they had just experienced the worst two days imaginable, and the bond that had been forged between them was not something to be tossed away. If Louis Hartman didn't like it, he would quit. The fire had just taught Zack what was most important in this world, and she was looking straight at him. — Elizabeth Camden

Back in the day, coming out was something very personal. You began by acknowledging the truth, first to yourself, then to close family and friends. Those of us more in the public spotlight, though, also had to 'come out' to the press. — George Takei

Young people coming up who are having difficulty with their so-called celebrity need to get back into their lives. It's your life and you can't let the fact that you do something pretty good take away the joy of it. — Nikki Giovanni

Who takes the Pandorica takes the Universe. But bad news everyone. 'Cause guess who! Hah! Listen, you lot, you're all whizzing about. It's really very distracting. Could you all just stay still a minute because I. AM. TALKING! Now, the question of the hour is, who's got the Pandorica? Answer: I do. Next question: Who's coming to take it from me? Come on! Look at me! No plan, no back-up, no weapons worth a damn, oh, and something else. I don't have anything to lose. So if you're sitting up there in your silly little spaceship with all your silly little guns and you've got any plans on taking the Pandorica tonight, just remember who's standing in your way! Remember! Every black day I ever stopped you! And then! And then! Do the smart thing! Let somebody else try first. — Steven Moffat

When is Tawny's birthday?" Cooper asked.
"In November."
"And yours was in January?"
Frowning at him, I didn't answer.
Cooper finally grinned at my irritation. "I did my homework on you. Hoped your birthday was coming up so I could do something big and romantic. You chicks love that crap."
"Oh, we really do," I said, smiling now as I ate my salad. "When's your birthday?"
"Beginning of December. I'm a Sag," he said, as if I should be impressed. "What will you give me for my birthday?"
"Probably something with me naked. Well, assuming I haven't grown bored of you by then."
Leaning back in his chair, Cooper smiled. "I like the way you say naked. Makes me think of you naked."
"Big shock."
"I really want to see that."
"Well, let's see how dinner goes first. — Bijou Hunter

Just supposing," he said, "just supposing"
he didn't know what was coming next, so he thought he'd just sit back and listen
"that there was some extraordinary way in which you were very important to me, and that, though you didn't know it, I was very important to you, but it all went for nothing because we only had five miles and I was a stupid idiot at knowing how to say something very important to someone I've only just met and not crash into lorries a the same time, what would you say ... " He paused, helplessly, and looked at her.
"I should do. — Douglas Adams

He leaned his head to me, his neck so close to my lips, I felt the heat coming off his skin. His breath was warm against my ear. His voice was a ragged snarl. "I miss you."
This wasn't happening.
"I worry about you." He dipped his head and looked into my eyes. "I worry something stupid will happen and I won't be there and you'll be gone. I worry we won't ever get a chance and it's driving me out of my skull."
No, no, no, no ...
We stared at each other. The tiny space between us felt too hot. Muscles bulged on his naked frame. He looked feral.
Mad gold eyes stared into mine. "Do you miss me, Kate?"
I closed my eyes trying to shut him out. I could lie then we would be back to square one. Nothing would be resolved. I'd still be alone, hating him and wanting him.
He grabbed my shoulders and shook me once. "Do you miss me?"
I took the plunge. "Yes. — Ilona Andrews

We had algebra together, right?"
"Yeah." That was two years ago. I only vaguely remember him. Something about circles. "Didn't you draw perfect circles?"
"That's what I'm known for."
"Really?" Erin goes, all excited about the circles.
Jason says, "No, it's just this one time I went up to the board and I had to draw a circle and it came out really ... round."
"Which is always a good thing, when you're drawing a circle," I say.
"Exactly." Jason smiles at me.
"It was more than one time," I remind him. For some reason, it's all coming back to me now. "It was more like three or four times."
"What can I say?" Jason goes. "You got me."
Now we're both smiling. — Susane Colasanti

Gregory had been surprised when Seth came forward and took Gregory in his arms. "I am your brother," he whispered, but this he said in the ancient tongue, the ancient tongue no longer spoken anywhere under the moon or the sun. "Forgive me that I've been cold to you. I feared you." "And I feared you," Gregory confessed, the old language coming back to him in a flood of sorrow. "My brother." Queens Blood and Blood Kindred. No, something greater, infinitely greater. And brother does not betray brother. — Anne Rice

God the horror of watching yourself from the outside as everything you know about yourself gets stripped away and demolished. Not just the loss of power over your body, but power over your mind. Rape in the deepest, most hellish sense of the word. But wait, there's a spark. Inside that hollowed out woman there's a place they can't touch. There's more to me than I thought there was. Something that no one and nothing can take away from me. They can't break me. I won't cease. I'm strong, and I am never going to go away until I've gotten what I came for. I might have been lost for awhile but I was never gone. WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? With an explosive inhalation I snap upright in bed, and my eyes fly open like coming alive after being dead and interred in a coffin. I AM Mac and I am BACK! — Karen Marie Moning

I've always found a cure for the blues is wandering into something unknown, and resting there, before coming back to whatever weight you were carrying. — Diane Sawyer

When our daughter, Alexandra, was about three years old, she used to wake up at night and come down the stairs into our room. Of course, we would have to take her back to bed. For a few months she was waking up two or three times a night and coming down. This was not long after I took over for my father and started pastoring. I was learning to minister, and there was a lot of stress and change just with that, so I wasn't sleeping much. One time I was telling Victoria, "We've just got to do something about Alexandra. She's coming down so much. You know, I'm just so tired. I'm not getting enough sleep." On and on. Victoria said something I'll never forget. She said, "Joel, just remember, twenty years from now, you'll give anything to hear those little footsteps coming down the stairs. You'll give anything to have her wanting to come into your room." That changed my whole perspective. I began looking forward — Joel Osteen

Judd returned during the last hour of my Friday shift. Without seeing him coming as I wiped a table, I knew something was up because two large burly men flinched.
Turning, I found Judd moving fast towards me. Before I could speak, his hands cupped my face and his lips were on mine.
Murmuring at the deepening kiss, I tossed aside the wash towel and wrapped my arms around his waist. He felt like perfection.
Judd pulled away and stated to speak then his gaze focused on the two men watching us and smiling. His dark stare killed their enthusiasm and they returned to eating.
"Back less than a minute and you're already losing me tips," I teased, causing Judd to smile grudging. "You taste like peppermint."
"I slept for shit and chewing gum keeps me alert."
Caressing his lips, I couldn't stop grinning. "You're so fucking beautiful and you're mine. How did that happen?"
Judd finally gave me a great smile. "I laid eyed on you and was done for. — Bijou Hunter

In playwriting, you've got to be able to write dialogue. And if you write enough of it and let it flow enough, you'll probably come across something that will give you a key as to structure. I think the process of writing a play is working back and forth between the moment and the whole. The moment and the whole, the fluidity of the dialogue and the necessity of a strict construction. Letting one predominate for a while and coming back and fixing it so that eventually what you do, like a pastry chef, is frost your mistakes, if you can. — David Mamet

London was one of the few Institutes that hadn't emptied yet. Apparently Sebastian and his forces tried to attack. They were rebuffed by some kind of protection spell, something even the Council didn't know about. Something that warned the Shadowhunters what was coming and led them to safety.'
'A ghost,' Magnus said. A smile hovered around his mouth. 'A spirit, sworn to protect the place. She's been there for a hundred and thirty years.'
'She?' Jocelyn said, leaning back against a dusty wall. 'A ghost? Really? What was her name?'
'You would recognize her last name, if I told it to you, but she wouldn't like that.' Magnus's gaze was faraway. 'I hope this means she's found peace. — Cassandra Clare

He stepped to her again, laid his lips on her brow. "But I want children with you, my lovely Eve. One day."
"One day being far, far in the future. Like, I don't know, say a decade when ... Hold on. Children is plural."
He eased back, grinned. "Why, so it is
nothing slips by my canny cop."
"You really think if I ever actually let you plant something in me
they're like aliens in there, growing little hands and feet." She shuddered. "Creepy. If I ever did that, popped a kid out
which I think is probably as pleasant a process as having your eyeballs pierced by burning, poisonous sticks, I'd say, 'Whoopee, let's do this again?' Have you recently suffered head trauma?"
"Not to my knowledge."
"Could be coming. Any second. — J.D. Robb

My grandfather had died, and my mother was trying to explain it to me ... Grandpa isn't coming back? No, she said. Not ever again ... And I remember saying, hold everything right fucking there. You went to all the trouble of conceiving me, and giving birth to me, and raising me and clothing me and all ... and you make me cry and things hurt so much and disappointments crush my heart every day and I can't do half the things I want to and sometimes I just want to scream
and what I've got to look forward to is my body breaking and something flipping off the switch in my head
I go through all this, and then there's death? What is the motherfucking deal here? I wasn't having this. This was not fair. — Warren Ellis

There was a movement to my right, and I snuck a quick glance to see Zee and Gabriel coming out the garage door. They must have gone back around. Zee had a crowbar in one hand and held it like another man might hold a sword. Gabriel had
"Zee," I squeaked. "Tell him to put the torque wrench back and grab something that won't cost me five hundred dollars if he hits someone with it."
"Won't cost five hundred," said Zee, but as I glanced over again, he nodded at the white-faced Gabriel, who looked at what he held as if he'd never seen it before. The boy slipped back into the garage as Zee said, "It wouldn't break it - you'd just have to get it recalibrated."
"We have a whole garage worth of tools - pry bars, tire irons, and even a hammer or two. There's got to be something better than my torque wrench he could have grabbed. — Patricia Briggs

Oh, there's no toll," noticed Henry. "It costs twelve bucks coming into Manhattan, but I guess it's free going back to New Jersey."
"That should tell you something," said Villy crestfallen. — Aurelio Voltaire