Strap Up Quotes & Sayings

In a wristwatch, imagine the battery is in the strap and there's a medical sensor in there connected to the internet. If someone is monitoring that, they could phone up if the user has forgotten to take some medication. This could save hundreds of dollars in medical fees later. What's missing? It's a stable battery. — Donald Sadoway

I didn't realize I was frozen in place until a classmate shouldered into me, knocking my heavy backpack from my shoulder. "'Scuse me," he
grumbled, his tone more Get out of the way than Sorry I ran into you.
As I bent to retrieve my backpack, praying Kennedy and his fangirl hadn't seen me, a hand grasped the strap and swung the pack up from
the floor. I straightened and looked into clear gray-blue eyes. "Chivalry isn't really dead, you know. — Tammara Webber

not if Shannon is over her illness. Come, Dytyna. We discuss your performance now." "When will we know if I'll be competing?" "We will not know until Monday when we check in at the Olympic arena. Coach Taylor will know then." "I'm going back to the hotel to call your father, Kerri. We plan on meeting for lunch then will head on over to the hockey arena. Two kids in the Olympics! Whoa. I'll see you later." She leaned down and gave Kerri a hug before she kissed her forehead. "Stay out of trouble." "I can hardly get into any trouble in the Olympic village, Mom." At almost seventeen, Kerri was still able to feel embarrassed at receiving her mother's counsel, and she thought that her mother's advice was unfounded. The village was closed off, after all, from the rest of Turin and from the fray of the crowds that converged upon the venues. She watched her mother walk away before she stood up and adjusted the strap — Eleanor Webb

The leaders were less willing to fight. It is always the young and impressionable who strap on the explosives and blow themselves up. — Mark Owen

Strap a piece of toast -buttered side up- to the back of a cat. Throw the cat out of the window.
Will the cat land on its feet or will Murphy's law apply? — Alan Fletcher

The Iraqi sun quickly heated the air to an unbearable one
hundred twenty three degree's, causing an unquenchable thirst to
boil up in him. Thomas then dropped his rifle under his right arm,
where it hung beneath his pit by a strap called a fast sling, there the
weapon dangled under his sweat soaked uniform. — Thomas Ferreolus

Tugging her purse strap up on her arm, she headed for the
door. "You have my cell number. I'll text you. If something goes
wrong and he pulls an axe, you'll be the first person I call."
Michelle groaned. "See, this is why I worry. The first person
you call is the police. Then you call me and tell me the authorities are
on their way and you're hiding in a closet."
"Yeah, ancient wooden closet door versus axe? And you call
me the illogical one? — Virginia Nelson

There's an elderly woman fussing with the top of the cream pitcher, trying to get it open. Her purse sits on the counter, but as I approach, she picks up the handbag and anchors it to her side, crossing her arm over the strap.
"Oh, that pitcher can be tricky," I say. "Can I help?"
She thanks me and smiles when I hand her back the cream.
I'm sure she doesn't even realize she moved her purse when I got closer.
But I did. — Jodi Picoult

Love is not enough. It takes courage to grab my father's demon, my own, or - God help me - my child's and strap it down and stop its mad jig; to sit in a row of white rooms filled with pills and clubbed dreamers and shout: stop smiling, shut up; shut up and stop laughing; you're sitting in hell. Stop preaching; stop weeping. You are a manic-depressive, always. your life is larger than most, unimaginable. You're blessed; just admit it and take the damn pill. — David Lovelace

Domestic airplanes are basically designed to keep people seated, settled, and sedated for the duration of flight. If they could, they would install catheters in the seats and strap the people down from takeoff until landing. International flights are a little different, due to the part where sometimes people's veins explode if they sit still in a pressurized cabin for too long. (This may be a small exaggeration - emphasis on "small," not "exaggeration." Deep vein thrombosis is the silent killer of the long-haul flight.) To combat this, international carriers often encourage people to get up, move around, and keep their blood circulating normally. Sure, it means the aisles get a little crowded from time to time, and it makes the TSA nervous, but better that than a bunch of dead passengers. — Seanan McGuire

The fact is that people who strap bombs to their bodies to blow up families at a Bar Mitzvah in Israel, plant bombs at a nightclub in Bali, or slit stewardesses' throats and ram airplanes filled with innocent Americans into office buildings do not do so for any reason related to poverty. They do so because they hold evil beliefs and have deformed consciences — Dennis Prager

Having blown up my own long-term marriage via an extramarital affair, followed by a traumatic divorce, I tend to think of love as less a gently glowing hearth than a set of flaming train tracks you strap yourself onto. — Sandra Tsing Loh

Kiernan hoists one of the bags and slips the strap over my shoulder. I grab the other one, and soon I'm loaded like a pack mule, lugging two bulky military duffels in addition to my backpack.
Trey leans down to give me a goodbye kiss, but his lips are quivering with barely suppressed laughter.
"What?"
"You should see yourself. The toga, the sandals, and now this. You look like a short Greek Rambo."
"Athena, Goddess of Modern War," Kiernan cracks as they get into the car. And now they're both laughing.
I pull up the stable point and blink out, now completely certain that the two of them riding in the same car was a very bad idea. — Rysa Walker

It must be horny douchebag day, she mumbled under her breath as she slid the bag's strap up on her shoulder. — Dennis Sharpe

A person who pulls himself up from a low environment via the boot strap route has two choices. Having risen above his environment, he can forget it; or, he can rise above it and never forget it and keep compassion and understanding in his heart for those he has left behind him in the cruel up climb. — Betty Smith

Music is crucial. Beyond no way can I overstress this fact. Let's say you're southbound on the interstate, cruising alone in the middle lane, listening to AM radio. Up alongside comes a tractor trailer of logs or concrete pipe, a tie-down strap breaks, and the load dumps on top of your little sheetmetal ride. Crushed under a world of concrete, you're sandwiched like so much meat salad between layers of steel and glass. In that last, fast flutter of your eyelids, you looking down that long tunnel toward the bright God Light and your dead grandma walking up to hug you
do you want to be hearing another radio commercial for a mega, clearance, closeout, blow-out liquidation car-stereo sale? — Chuck Palahniuk

Now the situation is different, I admit: I have a wristwatch, I compare the angle of its hands with the angle of all the hands I see; I have an engagement book where the hours of my business appointments are marked down; I have a chequebook on whose stubs I add and subtract numbers. At Penn Station I get off the train, I take the subway, I stand and grasp the strap with one hand to keep my balance while I hold the newspaper up in the other, folded so I can glance over the figures of the stock market quotations: I play the game, in other words, the game of pretending there's an order in the dust, a regularity in the system, or an interpretation of different systems, incongruous but still measurable, so that every graininess of disorder coincides with the faceting of an order which promptly crumbles. — Italo Calvino

You did this on purpose," I said to Justin as the man continued to strap me in.
"Maybe," he said.
"What is it you're playing at? Your girlfriend is down there at the river."
"Let's jump together."
"Come on Lenah!" Tony called from below.
"If you jump with me, Tracy will know."
Justin stood up. "Know what?"
"I mean , she'll think you did it on purpose."
"I did do it on purpose," he said.
"You two," the bungee man said. "Keep you eyes open if you're jumping together. Don't bash heads or anything. I hate cleaning up blood."
"If you jump with me-" I started to say.
"I don't care anymore. — Rebecca Maizel

What are you doing?" I finally ask.
"I'm serenading you."
I slowly nod, fiddling with the strap of my tank top as I say,
"You know those people that naturally sing really well and you could listen to them for hours and hours?"
"Yeah." I look up.
"You're not one of them."
His lips twitch. "Isn't it about effort?"
"Not with singing, no. It's about talent. You don't have it."
"I love you."
"That's not going to make you sound any better."
Laughing, he reaches for me and pulls me to his lap.
Zart, Lindy (2014-11-20). Roomies (p. 218). Kindle Edition. — Lindy Zart

For most of a day we walked through alkali flats, the white crust like a frosted layer of salt that rose in a powder when your boots punched through. We wore the chalk on us everywhere - up to our knees, in the creases of our fingers clenching the rifle strap, down in the cavity between my breasts, and in my mouth, too. I couldn't keep it out and stopped trying. I couldn't keep anything out, I realized, and that was something I loved about Africa. The way it got at you from the outside in and never let up, and never let you go. — Paula McLain

I like people that can strap on a guitar and don't sweat the fact that you have to come up with a song in an hour. I want to work with someone who won't feel like they have to play along with Jason Molina. I want them to just have the confidence. — Jason Molina

Trigger warning: The phrases that follow may cause heartburn, hives, hot flashes, or fainting spells. "Man up!" "Act like a man!" Is there anything deemed more hateful on college campuses in America today than telling someone to "man up"? In the fall, University of San Diego held a seminar titled "Man Up? Masculinity and Pop Culture." It was sponsored by the campus's "Women's Center." It was described thusly: "This workshop invites men to engage in a cultural analysis of how masculinity is represented, and how that representation frequently has negative repercussions on men's lives."10 College-aged men in America were once taught how to tune up a car, skin a deer, and how to pin a flower on the strap of a date's dress without sticking her. Today, they are taught to "engage in a cultural analysis of how masculinity is represented." Good grief. — Eric Bolling

I would, if one-armned and jonesing, doubtless have found a way to cook up a hearty spoon of Mexican tar and slam it with my toes. (I met a double amputee in San Francisco whose girlfriend slapped a bra strap around his throat and geezed him in the neck. Another triumph of the human spirit. But slap me if I get sentimental ... ) — Jerry Stahl

Hey, I'm sorry." He actually sounded sincere. "I was just ... " He glanced at me, and I raised my eyebrows, waiting for his explanation. He sighed. "I didn't ask for a tutor. It was sort of pushed on me." I crossed my arms over my chest, the movement making the strap of my book bag fall down my arm, and the bottom of the bag hit me in the leg. I ignored it. "Well, I didn't sign up for this either." His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Seriously?" "You think I don't have better things to do than sit around this place?" His face turned sheepish. "Well, no." I growled a little because his answer was idiotic. — Cambria Hebert

I stand on the end platform of the tram and am completely unsure of my footing in this world, in this town, in my family. Not even casually could I indicate any claims that I might rightly advance in any direction. I have not even any defense to offer for standing on this platform, holding on to this strap, letting myself be carried along by this tram, nor for the people who give way to the tram or walk quietly along or stand gazing into shop windows. Nobody asks me to put up a defense, indeed, but that is irrelevant. — Franz Kafka

Because, Sassenach," he said, very dryly indeed, "when ye're a man, a good bit of what ye have to do is to draw up lines and fight other folk who come over them. Your enemies, your tenants, your children - your wife. Ye canna always just strike them or take a strap to them, but when ye can, at least it's clear to everyone who's in charge. — Diana Gabaldon

Hey, big spender," I said.
He looked appreciative but more amused than anything else. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a one dollar bill.
"Hugh," I said. "Don't insult me."
With a sigh, he produced a five and tucked it underneath my bra strap.
"Hey, Seth," Cody suddenly said.
I looked up and saw Seth standing in the doorway. A look of comic bemusement was on his face.
"Hey," he said, studying me. "So ... you're paying for dinner? — Richelle Mead

Standing at the foot of the grand staircase, Wrath finished prepping for the meeting with the glymera by drawing a Kevlar vest onto his shoulders.
"It's light."
"Weight doesn't always do you better," V said as he fired up a hand-rolled and snapped his gold lighter shut.
"You sure about that."
"When it comes to bulletproof vests, I am." Vishous exhaled, the smoke momentarily shading his face before it floated upward to the ornate ceiling. "But if it'll make you feel better, we can strap a garage door on your chest. Or a car, for that matter."

-Wrath & Vishous — J.R. Ward

I looked across at Alex and a wicked twinkle appeared in his eyes.
"How is it that you're still so sexy after all this time?" he mused.
I shrugged my shoulders and raised an eyebrow but remained
silent, a lascivious smile creeping across my features. I teased the
strap of my dress slightly off the shoulder and he growled. He dipped
a hand underneath the table and reached for my knee, pushing my
dress up as far as he could. It appeared he had just remembered that I
had chosen not to wear any underwear. I quickly devoured the last of
the Champagne as the waitress appeared and ushered us to our table. — Kitty Mulholland

So we strap on weapons that work - weapons divinely authorized for our success in spiritual warfare: the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the shoes of peace. Then we take up the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, as well as the sword - the very Word of God. But — Priscilla Shirer

He took his hands off the oars and pulled in the mooring rope. If I make a couple of loops, he thought, I can strap the axe on to my back.
He had a mental picture of what could happen to a man who plunged into the cauldron below a waterfall with a sharp piece of metal attached to his body.
GOOD MORNING.
Vimes blinked. A tall dark robed figure was now sitting in the boat.
'Are you Death?'
IT'S THE SCYTHE, ISN'T IT? PEOPLE ALWAYS NOTICE THE SCYTHE.
'I'm going to die?'
POSSIBLY.
'Possibly? You turn up when people are possibly going to die?'
OH, YES. IT'S QUITE THE NEW THING. IT'S BECAUSE OF THE UNCERTAINTY PRINCIPLE.
'What's that?'
I'M NOT SURE.
'That's very helpful. — Terry Pratchett

I said I wanted to strap guns on an El Camino. When I brought it up at a meeting, they said great. I realized there's no adult in the room. — Adam Ferrara

Prison left me with some strange little tics.' She has taken all the door off their hinges in all the apartments she has lived in since. It's not that she has anxiety attacks about small spaces, she says, it's just that she starts to sweat and go cold. 'This apartment is perfect for me,' she says, looking around the open space.
'How about elevators?' I ask, recalling the schlepp up the stairs.
'Exactly,' she replies, 'I don't like them much either.'
One day, years later, her husband Charlie was fooling around at home, playing the guitar. Miriam said something provocative and he stood up suddenly, lifting his arm to take off the guitar strap. He was probably just going to say 'That's outrageous', or tickle her or tackle her. But she was gone. She was already down in the courtyard of the building. She does not remember getting down the stairs-it was an automatic flight reaction. — Anna Funder

WARRIOR LIGHT

Jafar, Muhammad's cousin, was a warrior of concentrated light. When he rode up

to a walled city, it was no more to him than a gulp of water in his dry mouth. This

happened at Mutah. No one went out to fight him. "What's to be done?" the king asked

his clairvoyant minister. "If you strap on your sword with this one," replied

the advisor, "also wrap your shroud around you!" "But he's only one man!"

"Ignore the singularity. Look with your wisdom. He gathers multitudes, as stars

dissolve in sunlight." Human beings can embody a collective, a majesty

of spirit, which is not like having a name or a body. A herd of onagers may display

a thousand antler points; then a lion comes to the edge of their field: they scatter. — Jalaluddin Rumi

Let me see," Opal said.
She quickly slurped up the rest of her lunch and then
took the collar. She examined it very closely. Sure enough,
she could see bits of evergreen fur pinched along the buckle strap. As she looked closer, she noticed something else. Several pieces of black onyx were sewn into the back of the collar, and they started glowing.
"Well look at that," Jack said. "Somebody's put a spider in this biscuit. — Mark Caldwell Jones

That's stupid," Luke says sharply, totally out of character, and shoots Laura a look that makes her flush red. "First of all, she's not ugly-pretty, she's just normal pretty. What a dumb thing to say. And second, she's different from the average girl 'cause she doesn't even need makeup."
Silence. Luke looks down at his arm and twirls the leather strap around his wrist. I nudge him, and when he looks up at me, I mouth Thank you, not trusting my voice since an unexpected lump has found its way to my throat. — Alecia Whitaker

The camels had strayed far in search of scarce grass. When collected, they displayed a fiendish ingenuity in throwing their loads and tangling themselves up in every possible strap. — Rosita Forbes

Harry lost any sense of where they were: Streetlights above him, yells around him, he was clinging to the sidecar for dear life. Hedwig's cage, the Firebolt, and his rucksack slipped from beneath his knees
"No - HEDWIG!"
The broomstick spun to earth, but he just managed to seize the strap of his rucksack and the top of the cage as the motorbike swung the right way up again. A second's relief, and then another burst of green light. The owl screeched and fell to the floor of the cage.
"No - NO!"
The motorbike zoomed forward; Harry glimpsed hooded Death Eaters scattering as Hagrid blasted through their circle.
"Hedwig - Hedwig - "
But the owl lay motionless and pathetic as a toy on the floor of her cage. — J.K. Rowling

To guard yourself against thieves who slash open suitcases, rifle through bags and smash open boxes, one should strap the bags and lock them. The world at large knows that this shows wisdom. However, when a master thief comes, he simply picks up the suitcase, lifts the bag, carries off the box and runs away with them, his only concern being whether the straps and locks will hold! In such an instance, what seemed like wisdom on the part of the owner surely turns out to have been of use only to the master thief! — Zhuangzi

When I was a kid, I was a cowboy. I had a cap pistol, and I'd get up in the morning and strap it on before I got ready. — Morgan Freeman

My favorite toy growing up was Polly Pocket. But one gift that I wanted though never received for Christmas was a pair of trampoline moon shoes. You strap them to your feet and they have springs on them, and you can just jump around! — Lucy Hale

The Buggers have finally, finally learned that we humans value each and every individual human life ... But they've learned this lesson just in time for it to be hopelessly wrong - for we humans do, when the cause is sufficient, spend our own lives. We throw ourselves onto the grenade to save our buddies in the foxhole. We rise out of the trenches and charge the entrenched enemy and die like maggots under a blowtorch. We strap bombs on our bodies and blow ourselves up in the midst of our enemies. We are, when the cause is sufficient, insane. — Orson Scott Card

He put Ben Gay inside my jock strap and filled my tooth paste tube up with glue. — Al Yankovic

It's fun, but the fun is where it always was. I mean, it's still fun to strap on my Les Paul in the basement and turn up the Marshall amp. I'm still 15. I still enjoy that as much as I ever did. — Paul Westerberg

You look at the crime and you look at the criminal. If it's a dope dealer who guns down an undercover narcotics officer, then he gets the gas. If it's a drifter who rapes a three-year-old girl, drowns her by holding her little head in a mudhole, then throws her body off a bridge, then you take his life and thank god he's gone. If it's an escaped convict who breaks into a farmhouse late at night and beats and tortures an elderly couple before burning them with their house, then you strap him in a chair, hook up a few wires, pray for his soul, and pull the switch. And if it's two dopeheads who gang-rape a ten-year-old girl and kick her with pointed-toe cowboy boots until her jaws break, then you happily, merrily, thankfully, gleefully lock them in a gas chamber and listen to them squeal. It's very simple. Their crimes were barbaric. Death is too good for them, much too good. — John Grisham

I had worked my way through a thousand problems, like when the tar paper bulged on the corners so I used a strap wrapped around the whole house and ratcheted it tight to attach the trim; I had figured that out without using a book, and that was just one of a bunch of ideas that had saved the day. I liked it; I was falling in love with the way my kneecaps knew how to hold a piece of plywood halfway up till I could grab the underside with my hand. I like the way the little house was taking shape, and the way it seemed to double-dog dare me to step in... move in. — Dee Williams

I only ever had one friend who was a person. His name was Orchid Harm. He could read faster than anyone I ever met and he kissed as fast as reading. He had hair the color of beetroot and eyes the color of mangosteen and he was a Sunslinger like his Papo before him. They caught sunshine in buckets all over Plum Pudding, mixed it with sugar and lorikeet eggs and fermented it into something not even a little bit legal. Orchid had nothing to do all day while the sun dripped down into his stills. He used to strap on a wash-basket full of books and shimmy up onto the roof of the opera house, which is actually a giantess's skull with moss and tourmalines living all over it, scoot down into the curve of the left eye socket, and read seven books before twilight. No more, no less. He liked anything that came in sevens. I only came in ones, but he liked me anyway. — Catherynne M Valente

He begged Angie but the words were cut short by the strap and the dial turning up again and the sound in the air like cracking ice and shredding paper and static. — V.E Schwab

She smoothed her fingertips down his cheeks and cupped his face in her hands. "I'm not sure it can get any better."
He sucked in a ragged breath. "Oh, darlin'," he said, sliding his finger beneath one of the straps of her sundress and guiding it off of her shoulder. "I promise you it can." He kissed the spot where the strap had been and drew his fingers up her thighs with a light, feathery touch. "And I'm a man who keeps his promises. — Tracy March

I did mega-training with ex-military men. I'd be in the gym for two hours after a 12-hour day on Spooks, and it was so hardcore I'd throw up. I stuffed myself with food and drank protein shakes to bulk up. I used to be a dancer, but I had to strap my weak ankles every day and strengthen my wrists so I could hold a machine gun. My body just wasn't up to it. — Richard Armitage