Quotes & Sayings About Sparking

From the least parochial perspectives available to us, people are the most significant entities in the cosmic scheme of things. They are not 'supported' by their environments, but support themselves by creating knowledge. Once they have suitable knowledge (essentially, the knowledge of the Enlightenment), they are capable of sparking unlimited further progress. — David Deutsch

His pastoral antennae were buzzing and sparking, and it seemed to him that he was inevitably going to be dragged into this swamp of charges and countercharges. And if so, he preferred going in headfirst and not grabbed at the heels by the swamp monster of circumstances in order to be dragged helplessly into these stagnant ponds of punk water. He was just doing his duty, but his duty seemed a lot bigger than normal. — Douglas Wilson

What's wrong with actors?"
"They quote poetry. A girl has to be crazy to believe one," I told him. "It's far too easy for an actor to give you a good line."
"You're quick to judge."
"No," I argued. "I've had experience with theater types. After a while they can't tell real from unreal. They believe their own creation of themselves and can't understand why everyone else isn't convinced they're wonderful."
He jumped down from the limb, then stared up at me, his eyes sparking with anger. "It's efficient, I guess, judging an individual by a group. You don't waste any time trying to know somebody."
But I don't want to know you! I thought as I watched Mike walk away. I can't risk knowing you. — Elizabeth Chandler

Isn't there some law against torture of prisoners? The Geneva Convention or something?"
"Only if we were at war." He tied the lace on his second boot and leaped up, welcoming the energy sparking in his veins.
'"Some might argue that we are. — Brynn Kelly

The scent of freshly laundered clothing that had been dried in the desert sun lingered around him. She breathed deeply, remembering how kind he had been to her that day, and she closed her eyes. The tip of his tongue brushed her mouth, and her lips parted slightly. She tilted her head back, relaxing against the strength of his arm as he cradled her. His other hand found her hip. Kisses, not so light now, trailed along her jaw before dipping lower. She sighed, the roughness of his unshaven cheek teasing the delicate skin of her throat, sparking a sense of restlessness in her that she did not know how to resolve. She wanted to touch him too, to kiss him in return, but she also wanted to stay just as she was because she liked what he did to her. — Paula Altenburg

Doubt was a giant-sized beast with heavy boots that pounded through the cities of the mind, sparking an occasional life only so Hope could rise again for a splendid recrushing. Doubt reveled in nothing more than destroying Hope. And Hope, being immortal, lived out its days with blithe indifference to its regular obliteration. Neither cared at all about the suffering they caused: Doubt because it enjoyed suffering; Hope because it was too stupid to recognize it. — Sean DeLauder

I am bent over the desk, my breasts rubbing against the wood with every impact, and now my nipples are as tight and hard and sensitive as my clit. I'm awash in sensation, my entire body sparking like a live wire, and with the right touch, I know that I will shatter. I expect another smack, but this time his hands grab my hips instead. With his knee, he roughly shoves my legs apart. One hand comes down on my back, holding me in place over the desk. The other strokes my sex, opening me, readying me, though that is hardly necessary - as I am so ready for him to be inside me, I can hardly stand it. — J. Kenner

Real-time marketing is already too late. Brands should focus on sparking conversation, not constantly reacting. — David Berkowitz

Dreams, though, are just one kind of inspiration - no more or less special than something in a newspaper article or from the world around you sparking inspiration. — Jeff VanderMeer

The President, in talking about freedom and democracy, is sparking a wave of very positive democratic sentiment that might help us override both Islamic fundamentalism that has formed in that region, and also some of the hatred for our policies of invading Iraq. — Bill Richardson

Either greed belongs in a war zone, or it doesn't. You can't unleash it in the name of sparking an economic boom and then be shocked when Halliburton overcharges for everything from towels to gas, when Parsons' sub, sub, sub-contractor builds a police academy where the pipes drip raw sewage on the heads of army cadets and where Blackwater investigates itself and finds it acted honorably. That's just corporations doing what they do and Iraq is a privatized war zone so that's what you get. Build a frontier, you get cowboys and robber barons. — Naomi Klein

In the early years of America's skyjacking epidemic, the airlines were reluctant to let the FBI attempt to end hijackings by force; they feared that innocents would get caught in the crossfire, thereby sparking a wave of negative publicity. — Brendan I. Koerner

Furi just nodded with a secret smile on his face. If Joe or the caller only knew what was going on in Furi's mind. Goddamnit, Syn. He was so sated he was close to pulling out a cigarette and sparking one as if he were in his own bedroom. I'm in trouble. I want him ... bad. — A.E. Via

Murtaugh Allsbrook and his riders spread the news like wildfire. Down every road, over every river, to the north and south and west, through snow and rain and mist, their hooves churning up the dust of each kingdom.
And for every town they told, every tavern and secret meeting, more riders went out.
More and more, until there was not a road they had not covered, until there was not one soul who did not know that Aelin Galathynius was alive - and willing to stand against Adarlan.
Across the White Fangs and the Ruhnns, all the way to the Western Wastes and the red-haired queen who ruled from a crumbling castle. To the Deserted Peninsula and the oasis-fortress of the Silent Assassins. Hooves, hooves, hooves, echoing through the continent, sparking against the cobblestones, all the way to Banjali and the river-front palace of the King and Queen of Eyllwe, still in their midnight mourning clothes.
Hold on, the riders told the world.
Hold on. — Sarah J. Maas

Just then, thunder boomed overhead. Lightning flashed, and the bars on the nearest window burst into sizzling, melted stubs of iron. Jason flew in like Peter Pan, electricity sparking around him and his gold sword steaming. Leo whistled appreciatively. Man, you just wasted an awesome entrance. — Rick Riordan

Let me get someone to drive you home," I say before my fucked-up mind thinks of a million ways I could violate her tonight. I'm buzzed from alcohol and high, too. When I have sex with this girl, I want all my faculties.
She purses her lips and pouts like a kid. "No. I don't want to go home. Anywhere but home."
Oh, man.
I'm in trouble. Tengo un problema grande.
She looks up at me, her eyes in the moonlight sparking like rare, expensive jewels. "Colin thinks I want you, you know. He says our bickering is foreplay."
"Is it?" I ask, holding my breath to hear her response. Please, please let me remember the answer in the morning. — Simone Elkeles

It was always buzzing and singing and glowing and sparking to no particular purpose. Magic was decidedly imperfect. But the really funny thing, she thought, was that if it were perfect, it wouldn't be so beautiful. On — Lev Grossman

Thunder boomed overhead. Lightning flashed, and the bars on the nearest window burst into sizzling, melted stubs of iron.
Jason flew in like Peter Pan, electricity sparking around him and his gold sword steaming.
Leo whistled appreciatively. "Man, you just wasted an awesome entrance."
Jason frowned. He noticed the hog-tied Kerkopes. "What the - "
"All by myself," Leo said. "I'm special that way. — Rick Riordan

Ladies and gentlemen, today we're here to honor electricity, the charge that charges everything from those electrons snapping in our brain to our father the sun. What's the sun It's kind of like a brain. Electromagnetic field, solar flares sparking back and forth from those nerve cells. We're all one, folks, giant blobs of electricity, all of us. Positive & negative, electromagnetic fields just circling each other. Positive, negative, north, south, male and female. Looking for that electric moment. Magnet to magnet, opposites attract. — Robin Green

Colhoes!" He jerked away and rolled off her and to his feet. She scuttled back, skirts tangling in her boots as she jumped up, leaping to avoid puppies. The man's shadowed eyes swung to her, anger sparking in them in the dim light. Blood dripped between his fingers clamped over his mouth. "I hope I bit it off," she said, unwisely. He dropped his hand and his lower lip was still intact, though bleeding down his chin. "Damn it, woman. I only kissed you." "While you had me trapped beneath you." "Yes, well, obviously that was a mistake."

-Vitor & Ravenna — Katharine Ashe

A lack of affiliation may mean a lack of accountability, and forming a sense of commitment can be hard without a sense of community. Displacement can encourage the wrong kinds of distance, and if the nationalism we see sparking up around the globe arises from too narrow and fixed a sense of loyalty, the internationalism that's coming to birth may reflect too roaming and undefined a sense of belonging. — Pico Iyer

I would not be able to change a sparking plug and I would not be able to fly a spaceship or build a rocket or whatever. But what I am good at doing is finding brilliant people and surrounding myself with brilliant people. — Richard Branson

Wish that they could walk forever
On the earth alone and fettered
Until they pray for consolation
Until they beg for sweet damnation
Then I'll come and bring them water
Bring them hope, bring them laughter
Raise their hopes both sad and sunken
Slash them up as they lie there drunken
Push them down into the foul mud
Until they choke up on their own blood
Drag them out before their last breath
To take away the mercy of death
Mother's eyes are sparking diamonds
Still the moon shows no light
This rose is withered
May God deliver
The rake at the gates of hell tonight — Shane MacGowan

My fingers positively itched to drift at length along their spines, to arrive at one whose lure I could not pass, to pluck it down, to inch it open, then to close my eyes and inhale the soul-sparking scent of old and literate dust. — Kate Morton

She takes hold of his hands. As they move together, Rolph feels his self-consciousness miraculously fade, as if he is growing up right there on the dance floor, becoming a boy who dances with girls like his sister. Charlie feels it, too. In fact, this particular memory is one she'll return to again and again, for the rest of her life, long after Rolph has shot himself in the head in their father's house at twenty eight: her brother as a boy, hair slicked flat, eyes sparking, shyly learning to dance. — Jennifer Egan

area was less busy, swirling like currents in a lazy stream and sparking light greens, clear blue, and lemon yellow, which was a relief after so much horror lining the streets of downtown Lisbon. The area was mostly ghostless, but I supposed that a place that had been used only for agriculture for a few hundred years hadn't acquired the depth of life and death that towns and cities do. After a very long block, we turned and crossed the street to — Kat Richardson

I have keen eyes. I once caught a leprechaun you know."
I looked at him skeptically. "Aren't those Irish?"
"Sure. He was over in the homeland on an exchange basis. We sent the Irish three turnips and a sheep's bladder in trade."
"Doesn't seem like much of a trade."
"Oh, I think it was a sparking good one, seeing as to leprechauns are imaginary and all. Hello, Prof. How's your kilt?"
"As imaginary as your leprechaun — Brandon Sanderson

In me, now," she murmured, her eyes sparking with untamed heat. The three most perfect words in his language. — Savannah Stuart

She looked up from closing it to find Jace watching her through hooded eyes. "And one last thing," he said. He reached over and pulled the sparking pins out of her hair, so that it fell in warm heavy curls down her neck. The sensation of hair tickling her bare skin was unfamiliar and oddly pleasant. "Much better," he said, and she thought this time that maybe his voice was uneven too. — Cassandra Clare

Back up," I said. "What did Sam mean by again? You've lost your hammer before?" "Once," Thor said. "Okay, twice. Three times if you count this time, which you shouldn't, because I am not admitting that the hammer is missing." "Right ... " I said. "So how did you lose it?" "I don't know!" Thor started to pace again, his long red hair sparking and popping. "It was just like ... Poof! I tried retracing my steps. I tried the Find My Hammer app, but it doesn't work! — Rick Riordan

Frustration widened her eyes, sparking them with fire. "I don't want to be with you so I can write our names together on a bathroom stall, Justin! I don't care about popularity or rubbing it in girls' faces. I want to be with you because you make me laugh. Because you're confident and smart and you actually see me." When she heaved a sigh, warm breath fanned across my lips. "Because when I'm with you, I remember how it feels to be alive. — Rachel Harris

A learning mind has more dots to connect for sparking innovation. — Pearl Zhu

They sat and he drew her into him. Their lips met, sparking an internal firework display. His soft exquisite lips pressed gently against hers. His kiss held the exact right balance between tenderness and a kind of passionate urgency. — Amanda Turner

Science began with a gadget and a trick. The gadget was the wheel; the trick was fire. We have come a long way from the two-wheel cart to the round-the-world transport plane, or from the sparking flint to man-made nuclear fission. Yet I wonder whether the inhabitants of Hiroshima were more aware of the evolution of science than ancient man facing an on-storming battle chariot.
It isn't physics that will make this a better life, nor chemistry, nor sociology. Physics may be used to atom-bomb a nation and chemistry may be used to poison a city and sociology has been used to drive people and classes against classes. Science is only an instrument, no more than a stick or fire or water that can be used to lean on or light or refresh, and also can be used to flail or burn or drown. Knowledge without morals is a beast on the loose. — Dagobert D. Runes

Stupid, infuriating, overgrown ass!" I hiss as I slam the back door behind me and stomp my foot for good measure. I'm home, I think to myself. I can finally throw a satisfying fit all by myself. Fuming, I stomp both of my feet on the kitchen floor again and again, picturing my cousin's face each time I bring my feet down. He is the most infuriating oaf on the face of the planet, and I want nothing more than to punch him. I'm still muttering to myself when I hear chuckling and jump in response.

Whirling around, I look up and find Flint standing by the coffee pot watching my display of temper and shaking his head. "I certainly hope you're not talking about me."

I scowl at him. "For once, no. You may be an infuriating ass, but I've never considered you stupid. Looks like sparking my temper isn't an exclusive ability of yours, after all. — Allana Kephart

Everything changes, but my love for you never will. I've fought myself on this too long and I can't pretend anymore. I can't feign that I don't want to talk to you, to reach out and brush the hair out of your eyes, or wipe a tear off your cheek. I want to hold you, to tell you how much I love you, to kiss you without repercussions." His voice grew softer, electricity sparking in the air. "I've loved you since I met you, Evangeline, and I will love you for all of eternity. — Angela Corbett

Of course I saved you," she said. "I couldn't do without you." And because she was happy and flushed with magic, Holly leaned down and kissed Artemis, magic sparking around the contact like tiny fireworks. — Eoin Colfer

It's fascinating, watching the surge inside of them
manifesting physically, relief sparking in their eyes when they think maybe, just maybe, they'll make
it.
Maybe they'll live.
Maybe they'll survive it.
They never do. — J.M. Darhower

Yes, [Philadelphia is] horrible, but in a very interesting way. There were places there that had been allowed to decay, where there was so much fear and crime that just for a moment there was an opening to another world. It was fear, but it was so strong, and so magical, like a magnet, that your imagination was always sparking in PhiladelphiaI just have to think of Philadelphia now, and I get ideas, I hear the wind, and I'm off into the darkness somewhere. — David

Look," he tried, "put two men in a rail car, one a soldier, the other a farmer. One talks war, the other wheat; and bore each other to sleep. But let one spell long-distance running, and if the other once ran the mile, why, those men will run all night like boys, sparking a friendship up from memory. So, all men have one business in common: women, and can talk that till sunrise and beyond. Hell. — Ray Bradbury

Although the church has often been far too slow to follow his lead, Jesus' insistence that women, as well as men, bear the full image of God has had a way of sparking reform movements across the centuries. — John Ortberg

Things are going so well. We're volleying words back and forth. Everything she says, I have something I can say back. We're sparking, and part of me just wants to sit back and watch. We're clicking. Not because a part of me is fitting into a part of her. But because our words are clicking into each other to form sentences and our sentences are clicking into each other to form dialogue and our dialogue is clicking together to form this scene from this ongoing movie that's as comfortable as it is unrehearsed. — David Levithan

Electricity exploded in me, crackling and sparking all throughout my body. And I knew that he could feel it too right before his lips descended over mine. — Laura Kreitzer

and were willing to suffer pain if necessary." A young woman in the spring and summer of 1967 was walking toward a door just as that door was springing open. A stage was set for her adulthood that was so accommodatingly extreme - so whimsical, sensual, and urgent - that behavior that in any other era would carry a penalty for the daring was shielded and encouraged. There was safety in numbers for every gorgeous madness; good girls wanting to be bad hadn't had so much cover since the Jazz Age. San Francisco - glowing with psychedelic mystique, the whole city plastered with Fillmore and Avalon posters of tangle-haired goddess girls - was preparing for a convocation (of hapless runaways from provincial suburbs, it would turn out), the Summer of Love, through which the term "flower children" would be coined, while in harsh, emotion-sparking contrast, helicopters were dropping thousands of U.S. boys into the swamps of Vietnam. — Sheila Weller

Old Prague was a story-book city caked in grime: ancient, soot-blackened. History lived in every detail: in the deerstalker rooftops and the blue-sparking trams. He wandered the streets in disbelief, photographing everything, images from Kafka crowding into his head. With the turn of every corner it came back to him: the special frisson you get behind enemy lines. — Philip Sington

The Barefoot College is supposed to be a sparking off process. People are adopting it and owning it, which is really the story behind the college. — Bunker Roy

Oh, the way he was looking at her, really looking at her . . . this was the Christopher of her dreams. This was the man who had written to her. He was so caring, and real, and dazzling, that she wanted to weep.

"I thought . . ." Christopher broke off and drew his thumb over the hot surface of her cheek.

"I know," she whispered, her nerves sparking in excitement at his touch.

"I didn't mean to do that."

"I know."

His gaze went to her parted lips, lingering until she felt it like a caress. Her heart labored to supply blood to her nerveless limbs. Every breath caused her body to lift up against his, a teasing friction of firm flesh and clean, warm linen.

Beatrix was transfixed by the subtle changes in his face, the heightening color, the silver brightness of his eyes.

She wondered if he were going to kiss her.

And a single word flashed through her mind.

Please. . . — Lisa Kleypas

It was shockingly weird to touch another person after a whole life - because the last three months were my whole life - of avoiding any kind of contact. Like touching a sparking downed power line, only to find out that it felt nice. — Stephenie Meyer

I take pride in knowing the NFL is pink in October, sparking conversations everywhere about breast cancer and prevention, all in the spirit of my mom. — DeAngelo Williams

New York. The world's most dramatic city. Like a permanent short circuit, sputtering and sparking up into the night sky all night long. No place like it for living. And probably no place like it for dying.
("New York Blues") — Cornell Woolrich

They were like a couple of asteroids that had collided, she and Owen, briefly sparking before ricocheting off again, a little chipped, maybe even a little scarred, but with miles and miles still to go. — Jennifer E. Smith

I walked slowly, my eyes focused on the gravel beneath me. I didn't know where I was going, not that I cared. I just needed to get away. Soon enough, I'd find my way home. I had to believe that.
There was a loud crackling noise in the sky as the thunder rolled through the clouds. I threw my head back, admiring the storm above. The sky was dark with flashes of white sparking throughout with each bolt of lightening following behind the thunder. It was beautiful. "After the storm, you will find peace." I smiled as the sound boomed through the quiet neighborhood. And in that moment I felt at one with the storm as the pain inside of me slowly began to seep out. — Nicole Sobon

The words were like gunpowder blasts, sparking me into thought and action. — Kailin Gow

Pucker up, Hollywood. By the time I'm finished with you, the neighbors are gonna need a cigarette. — Kate Meader

It felt good, the match sparking a small flame into existence, and that small flame igniting an all engrossing one. Like the big bang. — Logan Ryan Smith

Something was wrong. I felt a cold shiver. I didn't know what at first. Something was just ... wrong. I thought of Azrael for some reason, the Imposter, in that cowl, pretending he was Batman. It was that same sick feeling, a crazy kind of panic sparking deep beneath the surface, ready to erupt any second but held in check for the moment by the cold shiver getting colder by the minute.
My fingers were so cold ... against the warmth of Bruce's chest ... and then the realization came, right underneath those cold fingertips, I knew what was wrong.
"When did these heal?" I whispered. — Chris Dee

I once dreamed of launching revolutions, sparking movements, mobilizing the masses, and changing everything. Now I've learned the beauty and profound significance of simply loving my neighbor. — Jim Palmer

Falling in love with you was the easiest thing I've ever done. Falling is easy. Staying that way is hard. But I've been choosing hard all my life, so why the hell would the life I make with the woman who completes me be any different? I love you like a madman. You're the air I breathe, my next heartbeat, and I'm never letting go. — Kate Meader

Sophie isn't leaving," Quentin asserted, his voice pure steel. "That woman sheds grace and light in every room she enters. Any man with a functional brain would try to catch a fragment of that grace and cherish it, rather than push her aside. I'm not sending her away. Were it in my power, I would cut the moon out of the sky and give it to her on a silver platter." Her notebook dropped from her nerveless fingers, splatting open on the tile floor. Quentin whirled around to see her standing in the doorway. If he was embarrassed to have been overheard, he gave no sign of it. On the contrary, his eyes that had been sparking with anger gentled the instant he saw her. She glanced away, rocked by the protective expression on Quentin's face. It shot straight to a vulnerable part deep inside and enveloped her with a sense of well-being. No man had ever spoken so passionately on her behalf, and a rush of wild, electrifying emotions stirred inside. — Elizabeth Camden

You work for it. You don't have to massage it, so that it fits into the way it has to be. He's just too vigorous a writer and the dialogue is too sparking to do anything other than inhabit it and give it as much truth as you can. You just try to make it part of your DNA. That's what the challenge is, really. — Brendan Gleeson

At that moment, the creature's back breached the waves, its body cutting through the water in a sinuous arch, rainbows sparking off the iridescent scales on its back. Rusalye. — Leigh Bardugo

It is often said that Americans have no sense of history. Ask a college student who Jimmy Carter was and they will likely reply that he was a general in the Civil War, which occurred in 1492, when Americans dumped tea into the Gulf of Tonkin, sparking the First World War, which ended with the invasion of Grenada and the development of the cotton press. — J. Maarten Troost

I wanted you," he repeated in a softer voice, touching his thumb to her lower lip. "But I like you better like this. I never wanted you to need me, and now you don't."

"Not like you mean." Being this close to him was sparking the now-familiar buzz, arousal flowing through her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I need you in better ways."

"The best ones," he agreed, and kissed her. — Kit Rocha

You have gifts to share. When used well, creativity isn't just about you. It's about what you have to give. It's about leaving a mark, changing lives, and sparking a legacy that others can pass on. — Ed Cyzewski

Because they do burn leaves here, the older folks do, and I remember now that I love it and always have. The way fall feels at night because of it, because of the crackling sound and walking around the sidewalks, like when you're a kid, and kicking those soft piles, and seeing smoke from backyards and Mr. Kilstrap standing over the metal drum with the holes in the top, the sparking embers at his feet. — Megan Abbott

Karou was, simply, lovely. Creamy and leggy, with long azure hair and the eyes of a silent-movie star, she moved like a poem and smiled like a sphinx. Beyond merely pretty, her face was vibrantly alive, her gaze always sparking and luminous, and she had a birdlike way of cocking her head, her lips pressed together while her dark eyes danced, that hinted at secrets and mysteries. — Laini Taylor

We need a safe place, a reserve of truth, a place where words kindle ideas and set ideas sparking off in others, a word sanctuary. Poetry is this gathering place of words. — Allison Mackie

But the anger has not only drawn attention to injustice; it has driven people to action, sparking movements and spurring them forward. At the very least, the public expression of black rage has allowed communities and people who have felt isolated in their own anger to know that they are not alone. Anger is what makes our struggle visible. — Mychal Denzel Smith

He caught up with her outside her doorway, when she almost gave up. He said nothing, simply pulled her into his arms, against his strong, hard body, and his hand slid beneath her hair, tilting her face up to his. "No more running away?" His voice was rough.
His eyes glittered down into hers, and if she wanted tenderness it wasn't there. Simply a dark, naked heat sparking between them.
"No more running away," she said. — Anne Stuart