Quotes & Sayings About Static Electricity

He held out his hand. As soon as we touched, an electric spark stung my fingertips. I pulled away, shaking my hand. "What was that?" Dastien looked at his hand as if it were a stranger. "I don't know." "I'd say static electricity, but that doesn't quite cover it." I'd felt it in my soul. "No. That was something else. Something more." He — Aileen Erin

Hugh stretched out one hand and stroked the fur. It felt cold and rich, it crackled with silky static electricity. Stroking it was like stroking a clear autumn night. — Stephen King

Don't confound static electricity with ecstatic eccentricity. One will leave your hair up, the other will live up in the air! — Ana Claudia Antunes

How did you know I was different?"
"You mean besides the obvious obsidian, the alien entourage, and the branch?" He laughed. "You're full of electricity. See?" He reached between the seats and placed his hand over mine. Static crackled, jolting us both.
Daemon grabbed Blake's hand and threw it back at him. "I do not like you. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Yeah." He touched
Kelsey's arm and felt a shock, like static electricity. But this went deeper, beneath his skin. "I'm
going to go see what Cade needs. See you later?"
She licked her lips, the action sending a different kind of electricity down south. What a time for his
libido to make a reappearance. "Yeah. See you later — Maisey Yates

Take off your sweater in the darkness and static flares as a tiny lightning storm - I am the same at the end of your fingertips ... — John Geddes

The night crackled ... Everything had turned to static electricity in the heat. I combed my hair to watch the sparks fly from the ends. — Janet Fitch

TESLA'S CAT
[Nikola Tesla's favorite childhood companion] was the family's black cat, Macak. Macak followed young Nikola everywhere, and they spent many happy hours rolling on the grass.

It was Macak the cat who introduced Tesla to electricity on a dry winter evening. "As I stroked Macak's back," he recalled, "I saw a miracle that made me speechless with amazement. Macak's back was a sheet of light and my hand produced a shower of sparks loud enough to be heard all over the house." Curious, he asked his father what caused the sparks. Puzzled at first, [his father] finally answered, "Well, this is nothing but electricity, the same thing you see through the trees in a storm." His father's answer, equating the sparks with lightning, fascinated the young boy. As Tesla continued to stroke Macak, he began to wonder, "Is nature a gigantic cat? If so, who strokes its back? It can only be God," he concluded. — W. Bernard Carlson

Then the long nights, that were also days, in the hospital. And the long blanks, that were also nights. Needles, and angled glass rods to suck water through. Needles, and curious enamel wedges slid under your middle. Needles, and - needles and needles and needles. Like swarms of persistent mosquitoes with unbreakable drills. The way a pincushion feels, if it could feel. Or the target of a porcupine. Or a case of not just momentary but permanently endured static electricity after you scuff across a woolen rug and then put your finger on a light switch. Even food was a needle - a jab into a vein ...
("For The Rest Of Her Life") — Cornell Woolrich

And I like the light-up."
"The what?"
"The light-up," he'd say. "You know, that look people get when they finally realize you're for real. It's like electricity. It makes me tingle all over. Like a blanket full of static."
Ew. "Really? I've never heard that."
"Yeah, and I like it when people realize we're out here."
I leaned in close once and asked him, "Do you want your mom to realize you're out here? Do you want her to know?"
"Nah. It took her too long to get over me."
All in all, he was a good kid. — Darynda Jones

Antistatic devices (ASD) are commonly used in many industries and may present a health hazard to those who work with these. — Steven Magee

How strange and rare it was to see the top of a girl's ear. I reached out to touch her, but my hand flew back from a spark of static electricity. — Amber Dermont

Intercourse with resuscitated wife for particular number of days, superstitious act designed to insure safe operation of household machinery. Electricity mourns the absence of the energy from (wife) within the household's walls by stalling its flow to the outlets. As such, an improvised friction need to take the place of electricity, to goad the natural currents back to their proper levels. This is achieved with the dead wife. She must be found, revived, and then penetrated until heat fills the room, until the toaster is shooting bread onto the floor, until she is smiling beneath you with black teeth and grabbing your bottom. Then the vacuum rides by and no one is pushing it, it is on full steam. Days flip past in chunks of fake light, and the intercourse is placed in the back of the mind. But it is always there, that moving into a static-ridden corpse that once spoke familiar messages in the morning when the sun was new. — Ben Marcus

The house, and all the objects in it, crackled with static electricity; undertows washed through it, the air was heavy with things that were known but not spoken. Like a hollow log, a drum, a church, it was amplified, so that conversations whispered in it sixty years ago can be half-heard today. — Margaret Atwood

Electricity, Werner is learning, can be static by itself. But couple it with magnetism, and suddenly you have movement - waves. Fields and circuits, conduction and induction. Space, time, mass. The air swarms with so much that is invisible! How he wishes he had eyes to see the ultraviolet, eyes to see the infrared, eyes to see radio waves crowding the darkening sky, flashing through the walls of the house. — Anthony Doerr

Winny and I lived in a house that ran on static electricity. If you wanted to run the blender, you had to rub balloons on your head. If you wanted to cook, you had to pull off a sweater real quick — Steven Wright

It was rainy, trees leafing out, spring deepening into summer; and the forlorn cry of horns on the street, the dank smell of the wet pavement had an electricity about it, a sense of crowds and static, lonely secretaries and fat guys with bags of carry-out, everywhere the ungainly sadness of creatures pushing and struggling to live. — Donna Tartt