Stenciled Quotes & Sayings

What if you had such severe schizophrenia that your life was just one hallucination after another? And what if people kept trying to drag you back out of those hallucinations, to prove that you weren't living in reality and that reality was nothing more than a psych hospital? Would you go? — Jonathan Harnisch

Standing on the left side of the runway was my battle-worn X-wing fighter. Parked on the right side was my DeLorean. Sitting on the runway itself was my most frequently used spacecraft, the Vonnegut. Max had already powered up the engines, and they emitted a low, steady roar that filled the hangar. The Vonnegut was a heavily modified Firefly-class transport vessel, modeled after the Serenity in the classic Firefly TV series. The ship had been named the Kaylee when I'd first obtained it, but I'd immediately rechristened it after one of my favorite twentieth-century novelists. Its new name was stenciled on the side of its battered gray hull. I'd looted the Vonnegut from a cadre of Oviraptor clansmen who had foolishly attempted to hijack my X-wing while I was cruising through a large group of worlds in Sector Eleven known as the Whedonverse. The — Ernest Cline

I glance at the red-stenciled words crossing my chest - HOLDEN CAULFIELD IS MY HOMEBOY. — Lia Riley

A kiss, then Brady said, "Hey, sweetheart."

As he pulled away, I turned, grinning ear to ear. "Hey, Brady - "

I halted when I saw his shirt, mostly because I was laughing too hard to continue. My face went hot, from 98.6 to 200 degrees in a second flat. It wasn't the only part of my anatomy to react, either.

The shirt was white and clinging, hot as hell on him, of course. But stenciled in spray paint across the chest in the usual blocky lettering were the words FUCK ME, ETIENNE.

"Tried to convince the band to change our name, but they didn't go for it. I settled for the shirt. — Katey Hawthorne

I took the medallion out and examined it again. To be perfectly honest, I don't think I'd have blinked if I'd seen the phrase One Ring to rule them all, and in the darkness bind them stenciled on one side. — Michael Angel

Hate is like cancer, separate from the normal cells, devouring and not being nourished, annihilating itself along with everything it attacks. — Madeleine L'Engle

I never got into politics for it to be a career. — J. C. Watts

It's hard to say goodbye for good at any time or any place. It's harder still to say it through a meshed wire. It crisscrossed his face into little diagonals, gave me only little broken-up molecules of it at a time. It stenciled a cold, rigid frame around every kiss. — Cornell Woolrich

Who would dare assert that we know all there is to be known? — Galileo Galilei

A photograph is not only an image (as a painting is an image), an interpretation of the real; it is also a trace, something directly stenciled off the real, like a footprint or a death mask. — Susan Sontag

On the artillery shells produced in Leningrad, workers stenciled messages to the Germans: "For the blood of our workers," "For our children's anguish," and "For our murdered friends. — M T Anderson

Those letters under the door
A new life
The war at a distance
and my drinking glass that smokes
A brightness crowns the universe
("Two Poems") — Paul Dermee

Being Puerto Rican, born and raised on the streets of New York, you go, 'Wow, you're still friends with your ex, man? Really? That's weird.' I don't play that. — Marc Anthony

Yeah, ignore me." Aaro pawed through the bags until he found one with stenciled hearts on it. "By the way, you never did tell me your size. Hope nothing binds or pinches your tender pink places, babe."
He let the bag fly. It landed on Lily's lap. She shrank back as if it were a venomous snake. Fuck-me-please panties spilled out. A tangle of satin, lace and silk. Red, black, peach, flesh-tone.
Bruno growled expletives in a Calabrese dialect as he shoved underwear into the bag. It was his standard tension reliever. None of the people he insulted knew he was commenting on their grandmother's predilection for sex with sheep.
"I am not wearing that slutty, disgusting stuff." Lily's voice was haughty. "Certainly not after you're pawed it. Dog."
"Arf, arf." Aaro's tone was more cheerful than it had been so far any time this morning. "I love it when she spits bile. — Shannon McKenna

When we pulled in, the customs officer looked in the back. The back of the wagon was filled with cases stenciled PINK FLOYD
LONDON.
'Got Pink Floyd in the back of the car, do you?' he asked.
'Righto, mate. We shrunk 'em and stuck 'em in fookin' boxes, we did,' said Nigel.
Amazingly, the customs officer laughed and waved us through. — John Elder Robison

I stand outside Mr. Haverstrom's door, staring at the black letters of his name stenciled on the frosted glass, listening to the murmur of voices inside. It's not that Mr. Haverstrom is a mean boss - he's a bit like Mr. Earnshaw from Wuthering Heights. Even though he doesn't get much page time, his presence is strong and consequential.

I take a breath, straighten my spine, and knock on the door firmly and decisively - the way Elizabeth Bennet would. Because she didn't give a single shit about anything. Then Mr. Haverstrom opens the door, his eyes narrow, his hair and skin pale, his face lined and grouchy - like a squished marshmallow.

On the outside, I nod and breeze into the office, but inside, I cringe and wilt. — Emma Chase

It's funny how these days, when every household has its own inter-continental ballistic missile, you hardly even think about them ... A lot of us, though, have started painting the missiles different colors, even decorating them with our own designs, like butterflies or stenciled flowers. They take up so much space in the backyard, they might as well look nice, and the government leaflets don't say that you have to use the paint they supply. — Shaun Tan

They rode in a narrow enfillade along a trail strewn with the dry round turds of goats and they rode with their faces averted from the rock wall and the bakeoven air which it rebated, the slant black shapes of the mounted men stenciled across the stone with a definition austere and implacable like shapes capable of violating their covenant with the flesh that authored them and continuing autonomous across the naked rock without reference to sun or man or god. — Cormac McCarthy

What does a victorious or defeated black woman's body in a historically white space look like? Serena and her big sister Venus Williams brought to mind Zora Neale Hurston's "I feel most colored when I am thrown against a sharp white background." This appropriated line, stenciled on canvas by Glenn Ligon, who used plastic letter stencils, smudging oil sticks, and graphite to transform the words into abstractions, seemed to be ad copy for some aspect of life for all black bodies. — Claudia Rankine

If you read 1 John you'll see that love of God and neighbour are very closely tied together. Partly this is because all humans are made in God's image, so that when you love another human you are loving someone who is reflecting God himself. Of course there is a distinction but the minute you try to drive a wedge between the two things start to fall apart. — N. T. Wright

Boy, there are people who conquered half the world, slaughtered whole populations, wiped cultures off the face of the planet, and you know what history calls them? Heroes! Kings, presidents, champions, explorers. You think America was settled by white men because the Indians invited us her? No, we took this land because we were stronger, and that's how every page of human history is written. It's just our nature. We're a predator species, top of the food chain. Survival of the fittest is written in our blood, it's stenciled on every gene of our DNA. The strong take and the strong make, and the weak are there only to help them do it. End of story. — Jonathan Maberry

In North Carolina, I stopped to gas up at a Humble Oil station, then walked around the corner to use the toilet. There were two doors and three signs. MEN was neatly stenciled over one door, LADIES over the other. The third sign was an arrow on a stick. It pointed toward the brush-covered slope behind the station. It said COLORED. Curious, I walked down the path, being careful to sidle at a couple of points where the oily, green-shading-to-maroon leaves of poison ivy were unmistakable ... There was no facility. What I found at the end of the path was a narrow stream with a board laid across it on a couple of crumbling concrete posts ... If I ever give you the idea that 1958's all Andy-n-Opie, remember the path, okay? The one lined with poison ivy. And the board over the stream. — Stephen King

No thanks. I'm not an artist." "You don't have to be. That's the beauty of creating art. It's cathartic. Think of your past, your present, your future. Draw what troubles you. It can be a face, a place, a story inside of one single image. — Keri Lake