Still In Shock Quotes & Sayings

He was still a kid inside. His body had grown, stretched, towered, tanned its skin, hardened its muscle, darkened its tawny shock of long hair, tightened its lines around jaw and eyes, thickened fingers and knuckles, but the brain didn't feel as if it had grown in sympathy with the rest. It was still green, full of tall, lush oaks and elms in summer; a creek ran through it, and the kids climbed around on its convolutions shouting, This way, gang - we'll take a short-cut and head them off at Dead Man's Gulch! — Ray Bradbury

I am still in shock and awe at being fired. — Peter Arnett

As many as thirty or as few as ten years later, lying exhausted and still, eyes open in the dark long after the three suns of Rakhat had set, no longer bleeding, past the vomiting, enough beyond the shock to think again, it would occur to Emilio Sandoz to wonder if perhaps that day int he Sudan was really only part of the setup for a punchline a life-time in the making. It was an odd thought, under the circumstances. He understood that, even at the time. But thinking it, he realized with appalling clarity that on his journey of discovery as a Jesuit, he had not merely been the first human being to set foot on Rhakhat, had not simply explored parts of its largest continent and learned two of its languages and loved some of its people. He had also discovered the outermost limit of faith and, in doing so had located the exact boundary of despair. It was at that moment that he learned, truly, to fear God. — Mary Doria Russell

There are things in this world," she said steadily, still holding Zane's eyes, "that defy easy words. There are things in this world worth protecting, fragile things, secret things. Things that would do great harm should they ever be handled carelessly."
"Rue." The marquess loomed just beyond her.
"Things like magic." She touched a finger to Zane's cheek, a shock of warmth. "Things like love."

-Rue, Zane, & Kit — Shana Abe

And I just couldn't take it anymore. I closed the distance between us, slammed him back against the chair and kissed him, holding his head still with both my hands buried in that stupid, stupid hair. I half expected more resistance, because Pritkin had never met an argument he didn't like. So it was a shock when he ran his hands down my sides, cupped my hips and slid us both to the floor.
"I'm going straight to hell for this," he muttered.
"At least you'll know a lot of people," I said breathlessly. — Karen Chance

"It's me I'm losing control of. Hundreds of sketches, and still can't get enough of your face." He traces the dimple in my chin with his thumb. "Your beck." His palm moves along my throat. "Your ... " both hands find my waist and drag me off the table so we're standing toe tote. "I'm not wasting another second drawing you," he whispers against my lips, "when I can touch you instead." He presses his mouth to mine.
A spark, hot and electric, jumps between us. Shock and sensation shimmer through me, aglow with his heat ad flavor. Six year of secret desire. Six years of denying that he's the orbit of my world.
To think, he's been running from me, too. — A.G. Howard

Sometimes, when I'm having a sort-through or a clear-out, I find photos of my youth, and it's a shock to see everything on black and white. I think my granddaughter believes we were actually grey-skinned, with dull hair, always posing in a shadowed landscape. But I remember the town as being almost too bright to look at when I was a girl. I remember the deep blue of the sky and the dark green of the pines cutting through it, the bright red of the local brick houses and the orange carpet of pine needles under our feet. Nowadays - though I'm not sure the sky is still occasionally blue and most of the houses are still there, and the trees still drop their needles - nowadays, the colours seem faded, as if I live in an old photograph. — Emma Healey

I will not share you." Still holding his gaze, she drove her body down onto his. Tiny threads of lightning danced over his skin in a shocking web of blue-white light. He gave a choked cry. His spine arched. His buttocks clenched tight. The tendons in his neck stood out like cords of steel. His hips surged again, powerfully, rising up to meet her downward slide. She felt the shock of it to her bones.
"I will not share," she cried out fiercely, one final time as both of them shattered. — C.L. Wilson

You mean his kisses." Hannah corrected her.

Jonas narrowed his gaze. "You seem obsessed with his kisses, Hannah."

She shrugged. "It's been a while. I'm looking for a little action."

His eyebrow shot up. "Oh, really?" Jonas leaned down, his hand twisting in her hair, holding her head perfectly still as his mouth took possession of hers.

Libby gasped in shock. The kiss seemed to go on and on forever. And there was definitely tongue. Hannah not only wasn't struggling, she seemed to be kissing him back.

Jonas pulled away just as abruptly, shoving his hat on his head and turning toward the living room. "That should hold you for a while. Next time you're feeling a little hard up, give me a call." He strode out of the room. — Christine Feehan

Only one pair was still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: he was laughing at her.
'Come on, you can do better than that!' he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.
The second jet of light hit him squarely in the chest.
The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock. — J.K. Rowling

During my days of deepest grief, in all of my shock, sorrow and struggle, I sat at the feet of God. I literally spent hours each day reading God's word, meditating on scripture and praying. I intentionally spent a significant amount of time being still before God. — Rick Warren

Talya was so taken by the magnificent creature that for a moment he forgot where he was. But then he remembered, and he looked up to see Saba on both knees, his arms spread wide and his face lifted to the sky, weeping softly. How wonderful was Saba! And beyond Saba, Kahil, seated tall on his stallion, staring at him with black eyes, frozen in shock. Lost. How beautiful was this poor man, so wounded to hurt so many! Still not a soul moved. Talya looked past Kahil to the warriors, who seemed not to know what to do, and beyond them to the platform where the queen and the king stood, staring dumbly. Shaquilath has lost her daughter, Talya thought, and his heart broke with hers. The king has great kindness that's been covered up by fear and greed. How or why these things came to Talya, he didn't know, because he wasn't as much knowing them as experiencing them. And — Ted Dekker

I'm still suffering from shock from the last war. I was almost drafted! Luckily I was wounded while taking the physical. When I reached the psychiatrist, I said, Give me a gun, I'll wipe out the whole German Army in five minutes. He said, You're crazy! I said, Write it down! — Jackie Mason

As we reached the turning of the hall, Randall spoke behind us. "Jamie," he said. The voice was hoarse with shock, and held a note halfway between disbelief and pleading. Jamie stopped then, and turned to look at him. Randall's face was a ghastly white, with a small red patch livid on each cheekbone. He had taken off his wig, clenched in his hands, and sweat pasted the fine dark hair to his temples. "No." The voice that spoke above me was soft, almost expressionless. Looking up, I could see that the face still matched it, but a quick, hot pulse beat in his neck, and the small, triangular scar above his collar flushed red with heat. "I am called Lord Broch Tuarach for formality's sake," the soft Scottish voice above me said. "And beyond the requirements of formality, you will never speak to me again - until you beg for your life at the point of my sword. Then, you may use my name, for it will be the last word you ever speak. — Diana Gabaldon

Mother had wandered off - where? Was she out on the highway, ready to be picked up by anyone who might come driving by? Was she still suffering a hysterical reaction, would the shock of what she had done cause her to blurt out the truth to whoever came along and found her? Had she actually run away, or was she merely in a daze? Maybe she'd gone down past the woods back of the house, along the narrow ten-acre strip of their land which stretched off into the swamp. Wouldn't it be better to search for her first? Norman sighed and shook — Robert Bloch

There had been a local with them, to witness the veracity of the night's work. In the aftermath, as he stood in the doorway and stared down at the three corpses, he'd lifted his head and met Crokus's eyes. Whatever he saw in them had drained the blood from the man's face.
By morning Crokus had acquired a new name. Cutter.
At first he had rejected it. The local had misread all that had been revealed behind the Daru's eyes that night. Nothing fierce. The barrier of shock, fast crumbling to self-condemnation. Murdering killers was still murder, the act like the closing of shackles between them all, joining a line of infinite length, one killer to the next, a procession from which there was no escape. — Steven Erikson

Pg 102 "Maybe you don't have to think about hell because probly nobody you know going to end up there."
pg 238 "Sleep is mercy. You can feel it coming on, like being swept up in something ... You had to trust sleep when it came or it would just leave you there, waiting."
Pg 253 " And if she prayed now, it was really remembering the comfort he put around her, the warmth of his body still in that coat. It was a shock to her, a need she only discovered when it was satisfied, for those few minutes. In those days she had all the needs she could stand already, and here was another one. — Marilynne Robinson

I'm ... pretty sure I'm in love with Travis,"
My eyes still focused on the pavement, I handed Travis his phone, and then reluctantly peered up at his expression. A combination of confusion, shock, and adoration scrolled across his face.
He scanned my face with careful hope in his eyes. "You love me?"
"It's the tattoos," I shrugged.
A wide smile stretched across his face, making his dimple sink into his cheek. "Come home with me," he said, enveloping me in his arms.
My eyebrows shot up. "You said all that to get me in bed? I must have made quite an impression."
"The only thing I'm thinking about right now is holding you in my arms all night."
"Let's go," I smiled. — Jamie McGuire

A sudden silence hit the Earth. If anything it was worse than the noise. For a while nothing happened. The great ships hung motionless in the sky, over every nation on Earth. Motionless they hung, huge, heavy, steady in the sky, a blasphemy against nature. Many people went straight into shock as their minds tried to encompass what they were looking at. The ships hung in the sky in much the same way that bricks don't. And still nothing happened. — Douglas Adams

Certain subjects may no longer be taboo in cinema. But there are ways to treat them that still create shock. — Park Chan-wook

But my point is that 'the death of God' is not something like the Battle of Waterloo or Magna Charta. It's not a historic event of that kind. For many people it hasn't happened yet. Others - to recur to an earlier question - are still in the phase of intense shock. — George Pattison

She still hasn't cried because to stay in shock feels safer, it keeps a distance between her and the thing she's trying to pretend hasn't happened. — Menna Van Praag

Megan was still in shock as Steve helped her out of the vehicle. — John Triptych

I think you're in love,' she said. And with a sort of shock, Nickie realized it was true. She had definitely fallen in love with Otis. This was being in love, wasn't it? Looking forward to seeing him every day, feeling like a hole was ripped in her heart when he was gone, jumping for joy when he came back, not minding if he smelled bad, wanting to take care of him? Surely it was being in love. It was true that she hadn't fallen in love with...the obvious candidate. She'd fallen in love with a dog instead of a person. But that didn't matter. It was still love. She'd apply it to a person later on. — Jean Duprat

Laurel paused. Then she took David's hand and wrapped it around Chelsea's. After a long moment he nodded and led Chelsea through the gateway and out of Avalon. Laurel took one look before following. She saw Marion, her face a picture of shock; Jamison, his fist raised in triumph, a roar of cheers and applause surrounding him; Yasmine, still standing on the bench, looking every bit like the queen Laurel had no doubt she would one day be.
Grinning, she twined her fingers through Tamani's and together they walked out into the glittering starlight of California. Laurel considered the words Tamani had just spoken. They were technically true; soon they would be in David's car, headed to the house where she lived. But she knew the truth now. With Tamani beside her
his hand in hers
she was already home.
Aprilynne Pike
Destined pg. 300-301 — Aprilynne Pike

When I first went on tour with PJ in '98, I was still in shock having gone through the Soundgarden break up. — Matt Cameron

We were sitting outside at our favorite Italian restaurant, Callini's, one Friday lunch when Sam revealed to me what his ideal female looked like. A few women walked by and Sam used words like "big legs" and "too big up top" to describe women that barely weighed over 100 pounds. The following bomb then pried its way out of his mouth, "I'm still in love with Winny Cooper."
I replied with shock in my voice, "Winny Cooper from The Wonder Years?"
Sam glowed, "Yeah, Winny is my ideal woman."
"You do realize that she was a little girl in that show," I said trying to awaken Sam's better judgment.
He started laughing, "Winnie was a babe. I had a huge crush on her."
I needed clarification: "You do realize that you were in your 20s when that show was on. So, that would mean that you had a crush on a 12 year-old. — Phil Wohl

He placed the platter on the table, and as the lid was lifted and set to the side, I was told that, 100 years ago, the taxidermist's grandfather witnessed a bar fight between two sailors. One was armed with a sabre, and the other, apparently, was disarmed with one. The amputee fell on his back, and as he lay there in shock, bleeding to death, the taxidermist's grandfather looked down at the floor, at the blood-soaked fingers that may have still been twitching, and likely thought: Well, it's not like it's doing him any good. — David Sedaris

With the suddneness of a cat leaping upon its prey, he leaned forward and caught up her wrist. "Tread lightly, Miranda Fair." His thumb moved lightly over her fluttering pulse, as she stared with her mouth assuredly hanging open in shock, her heart beating furiously within her breast."You know, it's never wise to tempt the devil." His gaze lowered to her hand, still locked in his grip, her fingers glistening with pear juice. "Had I not this mask, I should be of a mind to suck that juice right off of your fingers. — Kristen Callihan

He went into another bar already drunk, found himself confronted by a ghost. Earlier that night he had glimpsed hints of them
in the curl of a lip that sparked a memory, a flicker of an eyelid, the way someone's hand lingered on a tabletop. Those shoes. That dress. But when you encountered a real ghost
the Thing Entire
it was a shock ... it took your breath. Not away. It didn't take your breath away
your breath wasn't going anywhere. Your breath was still in you, locked up, not of use to you. Took your pulse only to mutter dire predictionsfor the future because the Ghost Entire trapped Control somewhere between the person he had been and the person he had become. And yet it was still just a wraith. Just a woman he had known in high school. — Jeff VanderMeer

The short sharp shock of three thousand mother two hundred mothers. The ones who picked through the supermarket debris for pieces of their dead husbands. The ones who still laundered their gone son's bed sheets by hand. The ones who kept an extra teacup at the end of the table, in case of miracles. The elegant ones, the angry ones, the clever ones, the ones in hairnets, the ones exhausted by all the dying. They carried their sorrow - not with photos under their arms, or with public wailing, or by beating their chests, but with a weariness around the eyes. Mothers and daughters and children and grandmothers, too. They never fought the wars, but they suffered them, blood and bone. — Colum McCann

Indeed, a symptom of post-Holocaust trauma is that normative assumptions about the human species are questioned more than ever. Can human nature still be trusted? The breach of civilized values was too great - and in a nation that had produced so many significant philosophers, scientists, scholars, and artists. The intellectual shock - a secondary trauma, as it were - is not only that it happened but also that it happened with only scattered pockets of resistance and even a degree of cooperation among the cultured classes. — Jeffrey C. Alexander

Your leader has found his lifemate, Dayan," Julian said happily, "and is clueless, totally clueless, about how to deal with her. Finding your lifemate leaves you feeling as if someone punched you in the gut and stole your sanity. Your Darius is used to having his way in all things, simply commanding whatever he deems correct. But now I suspect he is in for the shock he so richly deserves." "He will simply force his will upon Tempest," Dayan said confidently, "then everything will return to normal." "Forcing your will on your lifemate is in the same category as cutting your own throat. Not a wise idea. Still, watching will make for much fun," Julian said smugly. — Christine Feehan

Then the sluice gates opened and Lotte said it had been a long time since she saw her brother, that her son was in prison in Mexico, that her husband was dead, that she had never remarried, that necessity and desperation had driven her to learn Spanish, that she still had trouble with the language, that her mother had died and her brother probably didn't even know it, that she planned to sell the shop, that she had read a book by her brother on the plane, that the shock had almost killed her, that as she crossed the desert all she could do was think of him. — Roberto Bolano

Overhead, an enemy plane had been dragging, drumming slowly round in the pool of night, drawing up bursts of gunfire
nosing, pausing, turning, fascinated to the point for its intent. The barrage banged, coughed, retched; in here the lights in the mirrors rocked. Now down a shaft of anticipating silence the bomb swung whistling. With the shock of detonation, still to be heard, four walls of in here yawped in then bellied out; bottles danced on glass; a distortion ran through the view. The detonation dulled off into the cataracting roar of a split building:
direct hit,
somewhere else. — Elizabeth Bowen

Time seemed to stand still as she noticed three droplets of blood splattered on the Indian's cheek. Crimson red, she thought. Three crimson red droplets. The color of the rubescent calla lilies in her mother's garden. Her mother had explained the wine colored flower meant strength, and passionate courage. How fitting, Zee thought as shock of the reality around her began to set in. — Basil Pearl

The horrifying sound of breaking glass, and a thunderous tirade of splintering pieces hitting the floor, stunned them all. Tobin spun around in shock. The massive Travelling Mirror, through which Tobin and Murphy had so recently arrived, shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces, cascading down the wall, and onto the floor in an enormous pile of jagged edges. The hall was still as everyone stared at the shattered mirror in shocked silence.
"Oh dear. Oh dear, dear, dear," whispered Elbert. — R.S. Mollison-Read

Reason sits firm and holds the reins, and she will not let the feelings burst away and hurry her to wild chasms. The passions may rage furiously, like true heathens, as they are; and the desires may imagine all sorts of vain things: but judgment shall still have the last word in every argument, and the casting vote in every decision. Strong wind, earthquake-shock, and fire may pass by: but I shall follow the guiding of that still small voice which interprets the dictates of conscience. — Charlotte Bronte

The whole school was in shock when he died.
Just six months earlier,
another guy from school died.
Everyone went on about too much tragedy.
Want to know about tragedy?
Come to my house.
A year later, tragedy is still here.
Every damn day, it's here. — Lisa Schroeder

But-" Maia, still looking at Alec and Magnus, broke off and rasied her eyebrows. Simon turned to see what she was looking at - and stared.
Alec had his arms around Magnus and was kissing him full on the mouth. Magnus, who appeared to be in a state of shock, stood frozen. Several groups of people - Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike - were staring and whispering. Glancing to the side, Simon saw the Lightwoods, their eyes widen, gaping at the display. Maryse had her hand over her mouth.
Maia looked perplexed. "Wait a second," she said. "Do we all have to do that, too? — Cassandra Clare

So far, we are the only two humans who seem to be compatible with werewolves," she said, still smiling in welcome. My hope sank. So we were human and...wait, what? "Compatible?" I looked at Sam in confusion. I knew that I smelled differently to werewolves, but he hadn't mentioned anything about compatibility. Charlene answered before he could. "Yes, werewolves choose their Mate - husband or wife - instinctually. They have no history of ever before selecting from humans for their Mates, but here we are. Whatever it takes to become a Mate, we apparently have it, too." My mouth popped open in shock as I understood. I turned on Sam. "You brought me here to hook up with a werewolf?" "No, Gabby. I apologize for upsetting you," Charlene said from behind me. I turned to look at her. "Yes, we're different in that a werewolf might choose us, but that doesn't mean that they must choose us or that we have to choose them. At your age, there will be no hooking up." She — Melissa Haag

I enjoyed being what I was in radio, which some thought of as a shock jock although, to this day, I still can't figure out what I've done that's so shocking. As to my favorite interviews, I loved having my mother and father on. I also enjoyed talking to Elmo, who's a puppet. I found T.I.'s trying to be extra-cool very endearing. Tyra Banks was not the diva I expected her to be. I loved talking to her. And Simon Cowell is a really nice guy. Yeah! He's my fave, and he's handsome. — Wendy Williams

You deserve a job that doesn't require you dressing like this. For fuck's sake, Renny, your shirt is so tight I can see your damned bra." "Are my bralines bothering you? Let me fix that." He could only gape in shock as her hands slid under the fabric of her top, and in moments, she'd managed to unsnap her bra and slide her arms through the straps. She tossed the scrap of fabric at him. It hit him in the chest, but he clasped it before it could fall. The cottony material still held the warmth of her body. Was it him or the beast that lifted it for a sniff? Vanilla. Delicious. And tempting, just like the buds of her nipples clinging to the material of her shirt that drew his gaze. I am in so much trouble. — Eve Langlais

Doing this was like
wading and then throwing yourself into the lake for the first icy swim, in June. A sickening shock at first, then amazement that
you were still moving, lifted up on a stream of steely devotion
calm above the surface of your life, surviving, though the pain of
the cold continued to wash into your body. — Alice Munro

You find a way, somehow to get through the most horrible things, things you think would kill you. You find a way and you move through the days, one by one, in shock, in despair, but you move. The days pass, one after the other, and you go along with them - occasionally stunned, and not entirely relieved, to find that you are still alive. — Michelle Richmond

It is remarkable that a fist-gnawingly dire England performance still has the power to shock, when in some ways this one had all the exquisite unpredictability of Norman Wisdom approaching a banana skin in the immediate vicinity of a swimming pool...
The England shirt is the precise opposite of a superhero costume, turning men with extraordinary abilities into mild-mannered guys next door. Were Stephen Fry to pull it on, he would struggle to string a sentence together. Were Lucian Freud to slip it over his head he would turn his easel round to reveal a childlike scribble of a cat. — Marina Hyde

The streak of bleach in my hair is as obvious as ever. Am I really going out in public like this? I push my hair backward and forward a few times - but I can't hide it. Maybe I could walk along with my hand carelessly positioned at my head, as if I'm thinking hard. I attempt a few casual, pensive poses in the mirror.
"Is your head all right?"
I swivel round in shock to see Nathaniel at the open door, wearing a plaid shirt and jeans.
"Er ... fine," I say, my hand still glued to my head. "I was just ... "
Oh, there's no point. I bring my hand down from my hair and Nathaniel regards the streak for a moment.
"It looks nice," he says. "Like a badger."
"A badger?" I say, affronted. "I don't look like a badger."
"Badgers are beautiful creatures," says Nathaniel with a shrug. "I'd rather look like a badger than a stoat. — Sophie Kinsella

What keeps earth air breathable? Not oxygen alone. The earth is a freer place to breathe in, every time you love without calculating a return
every time you make your drudgeries and routines still more inefficient by stopping to experience the shock of beauty wherever it unpredictably flickers. — Peter Viereck

Jack, who apparently always had to be moving in some way, had made up for the missing knife by grabbing a half loaf of French bread and methodically ripping it into tiny pieces.
"What," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Why don't faeries like bread?"
"Hmm?" Jack looked up, then shrugged. "I dunno."
Lend picked up a piece, crumbling it. "My dad said he thought it was because it was the staff of life for people."
"Nasty stuff tastes like mold," Jack said. "I tried a piece once a while ago when I was still trying to force myself to eat normal food so I could stay here. It was like a shock to my whole system." He shuddered at the memory. — Kiersten White

His principle can be quite simply stated: he refuses to die while he is still alive. He seeks to remind himself, by every electric shock to the intellect, that he is still a man alive, walking on two legs about the world. For this reason he fires bullets at his best friends; for this reason he arranges ladders and collapsible chimneys to steal his own property; for this reason he goes plodding around a whole planet to get back to his own home; and for this reason he has been in the habit of taking the woman whom he loved with a permanent loyalty, and leaving her about (so to speak) at schools, boarding-houses, and places of business, so that he might recover her again and again with a raid and a romantic elopement. He seriously sought by a perpetual recapture of his bride to keep alive the sense of her perpetual value, and the perils that should be run for her sake. — G.K. Chesterton

She was about forty: In her youth She had been a Beauty; But her charms had been upon that large scale which can but ill sustain the shock of years: However She still possessed some remains of them. — Matthew Gregory Lewis

Some days he wishes that he could simply empty the chambers of the men, fill the halls instead with women: the short sharp shock of three thousand two hundred mothers. The ones who picked through the supermarket debris for pieces of their dead husbands. The ones who still laundered their gone son's bed sheets by hand. The ones who kept an extra teacup at the end of the table, in case of miracles. The elegant ones, the angry ones, the clever ones, the ones in hairnets, the ones exhausted by all the dying. They carried their sorrow
not with photos under their arms, or with public wailing, or by beating their chests, but with a weariness around the eyes. — Colum McCann

I'm the new Oberjarl."
I knew it," said Halt instantly, and the other three looked at him, totally scandalized.
You did?" Erak asked, his voice hollow, his eyes still showing the shock of his sudden elevation to the highest office in Skandia.
Of course," said the Ranger, shrugging. "You're big, mean, and ugly and those seem to be the qualities Skandian's value most. — John Flanagan

We're going to be surprised when we discover that things in Heaven are normal and natural, much like this life. Of course, it will be better, much more beautiful and supernatural, without all the troubles, trials, tribulations, suffering, tears and pain we have here. However, it will still be enough like this life that we will survive the change and not suffer some sort of traumatic culture shock. It'll be life very much like we're living now, only without the bad and evil. — David Berg

People who love horror films are people with boring lives ... when a really scary movie is over, you're reassured to see that you're still alive and the world still exists as it did before. That's the real reason we have horror films - they act as shock absorbers - and if they disappeared altogether, I bet you'd see a big leap in the number of serial killers. After all, anyone stupid enough to get the idea of murdering people from a movie could get the same idea from watching the news. — Ryu Murakami

still remember the shock on his face when I loaded the porn site on my laptop. I chose a tame scene - tame for me, anyway. I set the laptop on the mattress, then sprawled on the bottom bunk as if I had no care in the world. — Sarina Bowen

Introduction to Jane. - Jane removed the last of the unfamiliar, silk bra-cup pads and panty liners from within the clothes she was unpacking and placed them in her top lingerie drawer. Her discovery of their illicit presence was a bombshell with which her disbelief was still struggling. The shock was enough for her to call the office, cancel her appointments and tell the studio she would be off all day. — Francine Scott

The train slows and lengthens, as we approach London, the centre, and my heart draws out too, in fear, in exaltation. I am about to meet
what? What extraordinary adventure awaits me, among these mail vans, these porters, these swarms of people calling taxis? I feel insignificant, lost, but exultant. With a soft shock we stop. I will let the others get before me. I will sit still one moment before I emerge into that chaos, that tumult. I will not anticipate what is to come. The huge uproar is in my ears. It sounds and resounds under this glass roof like the surge of a sea. We are cast down on the platform with our handbags. We are whirled asunder. My sense of self almost perishes; my contempt. I become drawn in, tossed down, thrown sky-high. I step on to the platform, grasping tightly all that I possess
one bag. — Virginia Woolf

It still would be years before I understood the seriousness of my change of view. Much later, I recognized it in "Revolution," the essay of Polish journalist Ryszard Kapuscinski, who describes the moment when a man on the edge of a crowd looks back defiantly at a policeman - and when that policeman senses a sudden refusal to accept his defining gaze - as the imperceptible moment in which rebellion is born. "All books about all revolutions begin with a chapter that describes the decay of tottering authority or the misery and sufferings of the people," Kapuscinski writes. "They should begin with a psychological chapter - one that shows how a harassed, terrified man suddenly breaks his terror, stops being afraid. This unusual process - sometimes accomplished in an instant, like a shock - demands to be illustrated. Man gets rid of fear and feel free. Without that, there would be no revolution. — Gloria Steinem

Here's a shock: An adult who still hangs out in skate parks is a bad parent. — Daniel Tosh

Bathing is even more embarrassing, because I have to strip down to my birthday suit in front of a nurse. Now, there are some things that never die, so even though I'm in my nineties my sap sometimes rises. I can't help it. They always pretend not to notice. They're trained that way, I suppose, although pretending not to notice is almost worse than noticing. It means they consider me nothing more than a harmless old man sporting a harmless old penis that still gets uppity once in a while. Although if one of them took it seriously and tried to do something about it, the shock would probably kill me. — Sara Gruen

It still comes as a shock to realize that I don't write about what I know, but in order to find out what I know. - PATRICIA HAMPL If — Lynn Lauber

Going into that race I was going for the world record, just quietly, but I wasn't feeling at my best all week so it was hard to determine what would happen. I could not believe it, I went into shock, I'm still in shock. — Leisel Jones

That small word "Force," they make a barber's block,
Ready to put on
Meanings most strange and various, fit to shock
Pupils of Newton ...
The phrases of last century in this
Linger to play tricks
Vis viva and Vis Mortua and Vis Acceleratrix:
Those long-nebbed words that to our text books still
Cling by their titles,
And from them creep, as entozoa will,
Into our vitals.
But see! Tait writes in lucid symbols clear
One small equation;
And Force becomes of Energy a mere
Space-variation. — James Clerk Maxwell

Anyway, what do women grab when they're nervous and sitting at their desks? Do they slip their hands inside their panties? What a distracting thought. Just the word panty is distracting. I love that word; it implies so much. I love how women look in panties, how they're flat in the front. I'm thirty-five, but sometimes it's still this beautiful amazing shock to me that women don't have penises. They just have this lovely little mound of hair and then this tucked away glorious hole. Hole. Wait. Hole sounds vulgar. Is passageway better? Pretty envelope? Georgia O'Keeffe flower? Pussy? Pussy is good. I like the word pussy. Tucked away beautiful pussy. I wish I could put my face in one right now and sing out, I love you! — Jonathan Ames

The sadness and shock in his voice devastated Alex, and she wrapped her arms around him. He remained still, not responding to her attempt to comfort him for the first few seconds until, consumed by emotion, he caught her in an intense embrace, burying his face in her neck. They stayed that way, wrapped tightly together, sharing their strength in the silence. And — Sarah MacLean

Her death had a powerful impact on me I suppose because it was such an obvious shock, like watching someone for hours through a telescope advance towards you, fist extended with the intention of punching you in the face. Even though I saw it coming it still hurt when it eventually hit me. — Russell Brand

I love plants. For the longest time I thought that they died without pain. But of course after I had argued with Mary she showed me clippings on how plants went into shock when pulled up by their roots, and even uttered something indescribable, like panic, a drawn-out vowel only registered on special instruments. Still, I love their habit of constant return. I don't like cut flowers. Only the ones that grow in the ground. — Louise Erdrich

In the months and years after 9/11 it appeared likewise as if things had returned to some state of normalcy. As time passed, as the initial shock wore off and the trauma lessened, there was a growing temptation to go on almost as if it had never happened, as if the nation were still somehow immune to destruction. So it was in the last days of ancient Israel. But it was all an illusion." There was a long silence after that ... broken only by the sound of the seagulls. Then he continued as if there had been no break. "It was all a fatal illusion. So then ... what of America? — Jonathan Cahn

I found it very difficult to feel easy around the guy, even once I'd got used to the shock of his presence. It's a strange feeling ... the first time you meet him your brain wants to scream, blow a fuse and shut itself down immediately, refusing to accept that he exists. This lasts for a couple of minutes, at which time he's still there and hasn't gone away, and in the end you just accept him because he's standing there and talking to you and after a while it almost seems normal. Almost. — Alan Moore

In spite of the haze of speculation, it is still something of a shock to find myself here, coming to terms with an enormous trust placed in my hands and with the inevitable sense of inadequacy that goes with that. — Rowan Williams

Will's eyes met Tessa's as she came closer, almost tripping again over the torn hem of her gown. For a moment, they were in perfect understanding. Jem was what they could still look each other straight in the eye about. On the topic of Jem, they were both fierce and unyielding. Tessa saw Will's hand tighten on Jem's sleeve. "She's here," he said.
Jem's eyes opened slowly. Tessa fought to keep the look of shock from her face. His pupils were blown out, his irises a thin ring of silver around the black. "Ni shou shang le ma, quin ai de?" he whispered. — Cassandra Clare

Her heavy breathing echoed off the thick walls, her body frozen in shock, but when Marik reappeared in the mouth of the cave, she reached for the sword. He was still in a state of bloodlust and was, what she could only describe as, stalking her. — Kiersten Fay

You banged a priest last night, didn't you?"
"Yup."
One of the elderly women behind them gasped in shock. Griffin turned around and gave her an apologetic smile.
"She banged a Prius last night," Griffin whispered to her. "Fender bender. She's still a little shook up about it. — Tiffany Reisz

I step in to give him a hug, but his hand comes in between us.
His hand.
Because he doesn't want to do any more than shake. With the girl he's made love to. Whose heart is bursting out of her chest.
I'm trembling in a way that makes me feel like I might fall apart any second. His hand touches mine, and I love the warmth of him. Love the way he feels.
My eyes don't live his. He has only some idea that he could be a model for Calvin Klein. This is so weird. I'm supposed to be angry. Hurt. Instead I'm in shock that he still makes me feel this way - like we were something special. — Jolene Perry

A light was on in the kitchen. His mother sat at the kitchen table, as still as a statue. Her hands were clasped together, and she stared fixatedly at a small stain on the tablecloth. Gregor remembered seeing her that way so many nights after his dad had disappeared. He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to scare her or shock her or ever give her any more pain.
So, he stepped into the light of the kitchen and said the one thing he knew she wanted to hear most in the world.
Hey, Mom. We're home. — Suzanne Collins

Black Cat
A ghost, though invisible, still is like a place
your sight can knock on, echoing; but here
within this thick black pelt, your strongest gaze
will be absorbed and utterly disappear:
just as a raving madman, when nothing else
can ease him, charges into his dark night
howling, pounds on the padded wall, and feels
the rage being taken in and pacified.
She seems to hide all looks that have ever fallen
into her, so that, like an audience,
she can look them over, menacing and sullen,
and curl to sleep with them. But all at once
as if awakened, she turns her face to yours;
and with a shock, you see yourself, tiny,
inside the golden amber of her eyeballs
suspended, like a prehistoric fly. — Rainer Maria Rilke

That present sucked," I muttered.
Dad slipped an arm around my shoulder and helped me sit up. As he did, his sleeve fell back to reveal several slivers of demonglass embedded in his forearm.
"I'm fine," he said before I could ask. "Cal can get them out later. Are you all right?"
My shoulder was still on fire, but there was no pain anywhere else, and other than the shock of being blown backward and stabbed, I was peachy. "I think so. What was that, like a magic pipe bomb?"
The present lay in tatters on the floor, its ribbon coiling and snapping like a snake. Cal stomped on the ribbon, and it went still. "Seems like it," he said grimly.
"And it was ensorcelled to seek you out," Dad added. He looked so worried and angry that I decided not to give him a hard time for using a word like ensorcelled. — Rachel Hawkins

I have occupied this idle, empty winter with writing a story. It has been written to please myself, without thought of my own vanity or modesty, without regard for other people's feelings, without considering whether I shock or hurt the living, without scrupling to speak of the dead.

The world, I know, is changing. I am not indifferent to the revolution that has caught us in its mighty skirts, to the enormity of the flood that is threatening to submerge us. But what could I do? In the welter of the surrounding storm, I have taken refuge for a moment on this little raft, constructed with the salvage of my memory. I have tried to steer it into that calm haven of art in which I still believe. I have tried to avoid some of the rocks and sandbanks that guard its entrance.

[from the introduction] — Dorothy Bussy

For what seemed a long time Mat knelt there with his father's dead wrist in his hand, while his mind arrived and arrived and yet arrived at that place and time and that body lying still on the soiled and bloodied stones. — Wendell Berry

WHITLOCK 2 (to VRIL):
In my humble opinion,
Be off to oblivion!
Their tears crocodilian
Will dry here below.

Your act is vaudevillian,
Your faults are octillion!
Your manners reptilian
Would shock a Brazilian!
Alas, but a Vrillian's a pitiful beau!
A despicable, fickle, unprintable foe!

LADY CADENCE: (still in the grip of VRIL) Mr. Cartwright, my most mannered acquaintances hail from Brazil.

WHITLOCK 2: My apologies, Your Ladyship. It's a difficult rhyme. — Bill Powell