Sure Button Quotes & Sayings

I am the God of the universe, maker of heaven and earth. I designed your body, I fashioned your world, I created your potential. I have wisdom and guidance and love that I long to communicate to you but I can't get through. Your heart and life are too noisy, and I will not scream. I love you. But you need a button for — John Ortberg

I'm not sure my belly button is exactly in the middle. I wonder what that means.. — Graham Parke

Got your stuff?"

Nora's checks flushed. "Um, yeah, but..."

"What?"

"My hand hurts so much, and I need two hands to do my button. Could you...um..."

He furrowed his brow, unsure what she meant as she trailed off, blushing more now. Following her gaze, he glanced down at her pants. Sure enough, her jeans were on but unbuttoned, revealing a peek of the tiny green short-shorts from her uniform.

He chuckled and reached forward, buttoning her jeans for her. "I've never put pants on a woman before, but I'll make an exception this time."

"I appreciate your sacrifice," she said sarcastically, and Kane decided then and there that he wanted to see her smiling like that all the time. — Sarah Robinson

There was a crackle. Kobe's voice came through the cans. "What would you guys do," he said, apropos of nothing, "if Jules turned into a lizard?"

Another crackle. "Hey!" Jules said.

"It wouldn't happen," said Jacob, and I saw him shrug in the half-light.

"But what if?"

I pressed the talk button on my cans. "There's an old fish tank in our garage," I said. "I'd put Jules in it, and then get a heat rock from the pet shop."

I heard Sam's low chuckle. "Make sure you wash your hands first."

"Why?"

"So you don't get any lizardy diseases."

"I don't have any lizardy diseases!" Jules's voice was getting higher.

"Not yet, but wait until you're a lizard."

"What's a heat rock?" asked Jacob.

"It's a rock," I told him, "that you heat up. Lizards like them. Anyway, once I'd done that, I'd take you to see my cousin Adam."

"IS HE A WIZARD? — Lili Wilkinson

Perhaps because of all the money poured into this, the things behind the spanking displays look old and crummy, like articles from a time that has been left behind. I slap down the stairs in my sandals. I am annoyed that this past can look so tawdry and so safe, as if destined from the outset to end up behind glass, securely roped off and under pressure-button control. And I am annoyed at myself: what's the problem? Isn't a museum the place for things that are over? — Anna Funder

You are the strangest girl I've ever met," he said, like he thought I was joking. He picked up his water bottle and gave me a sideways glance. "Have you ever kissed anybody?" he asked, and took a sip.
I smirked. "There aren't a whole lot of opportunities in the digital world. I did practice on my hand once. It didn't do anything for me."
Justin coughed on the water he was swallowing and I slapped my hand over my mouth.
"Did I just say that out loud?" I mumbled.
He was half coughing, half laughing. "Yes, you did," he managed to say.
"Delete, delete, delete," I said, and pushed an imaginary button in the air. "I really miss that feature."
"No, that's the good stuff. People always want to delete the good stuff." His eyes lit up. "That's a cool idea, though. What would you say, right now, if you could immediately delete it, so no one read it? — Katie Kacvinsky

I can't eat whatever I want, definitely not. I'm always controlled because I do a lot of fitness and triathlons, not just Formula One, so I always make sure I eat the right things. — Jenson Button

It was Saturday evening and we were in the throes of a Veronica Mars marathon (season two DVD). I decided that when I left "Ms. Townsend, Ice Princess" behind, the New Sadie was going to be like Veronica Mars. She was plucky, cute as a button and she had a smart mouth. — Kristen Ashley

Button, I am pretty sure more than one Mason has had carnal knowledge of their partner at that table and not just me. Grandma included. — Alex Morgan

The room is in shocked silence. Can this really be true? Can the authorities kill off everyone at the press of a button? — Siobhan Davis

The search button on the browser no longer provides an objective search, but a commercial one. — Tim Berners-Lee

He'd changed since the last summer. Instead of Bermuda shorts and a T-shirt, he wore a button-down shirt, khaki pants, and leather loafers. His sandy hair, which used to be so unruly, was now clipped short. He look like an evil male model, showing off what the fashionable college-age villain was wearing to Harvard this year. — Rick Riordan

Again there are so many records which contain fond memories and music and songs of which I have to say I am quite proud. There are a couple of tracks which in retrospect on which I now wish I had pushed the red button, however I'm sure this is true of any artist career that has spanned the number of years that mine has. I do not believe however that I have ever made a bad record and I have certainly never made a record to which I didn't give my complete commitment. — Greg Lake

Savannah, darlin'?" "Yes, Mama. Come in." Her mother opened the door a crack, then slipped into the room, carrying the largest, most extravagant bouquet of wildflowers Savannah had ever seen. Wildflowers that smelled of lilac and honeysuckle and the outdoors. She breathed deeply and sighed, looking at her mother in question. "Asher Lee," she said, "is downstairs." Savannah felt her mouth tilt up into an involuntary smile and her eyes flood with tears. Her mother set the bouquet on her vanity and put her arm around Savannah. "Whatever he did, he's awful sorry, button." "He yelled at me and made me cry." "Guessing he didn't mean whatever it is he said." "He thinks I want him to change." "Well, of course you do," said her mother matter-of-factly, swiping at Savannah's tears with the corner of her sunflower apron. "We all want to change the men we love. Leave our mark on them." "Oh, I don't lov - " "Of course you don't. I was just makin' conversation. — Katy Regnery

I feel my job as an artist is to drive people to country radio. That's my job as a country artist. So these streaming places, especially these on-demand streaming places, where you can just push a button and hear it as many times as you want, like YouTube, any of that stuff, that's taking all the ears away from country radio. — Garth Brooks

The typical review makes a Teletubby look like a sabre-toothed tiger. You can economize by reading online rather than squandering $4.95, yes, but all you get is people pusillanimously Favoriting and Liking and Friending. Why is there no Hate button? Why? — Helen DeWitt

So Lucille pressed the button, and a panel slid open in the wall, and the transporter came through, and sure enough here was the bare butt of the client waiting to be whipped. For reasons best known to himself he had kept his shoes and socks on, so he was wearing well-polished black loafers and black silk socks. — Helen DeWitt

The elevator doors opened on the first floor and Van Holtz was waiting there with several bags of groceries in his hands.
"Oh. You," he said. He started to walk in and, without thinking, simply reacting, Bo shoved him back out of the elevator by his head and hit the elevator button again.
"You asshole!" Bo heard as the door closed. — Shelly Laurenston

Just play it cool," Dax says.
He has forced me to don a pair of dark gray slacks and a white button-up shirt. Contrary to his protests, I have pushed the sleeves of the shirt up past my elbows, but I make sure the scars on my arm, which spell out Daphne's name, are covered. I feel overly warm and suffocated in these clothes. "I don't understand. You want me to pretend to be cold?" I fake a shiver. "Like this? What's the point?"
Dax tries to stifle a laugh - not very well - and I realize I've been tripped up by another one of these "figures of speech" that I keep running into. I'm beginning to hate the English language. — Bree Despain

Hmph." I pushed the button a couple more times, trying to hurry the elevator along.

"Oh, yeah, that's going to do some good. Everyone knows an elevator doesn't shift into second until you really lean on the call button."

I pressed it another fifteen times, giving Jim a triumphant smile when the green light lit above the door. "Ha! See? It does too work - oh, sorry. Didn't mean to step on your foot. — Katie MacAlister

Dear Nintendo, We need a new Mario game, where you rescue the princess in the first ten minutes, and for the rest of the game you try and push down that sick feeling in your stomach that she's 'damaged goods', a concept detailed again and again in the profoundly sex negative instruction booklet, and when Luigi makes a crack about her and Bowser, you break his nose and immediately regret it. When Peach asks you, in the quiet of her mushroom castle bedroom 'do you still love me?' you pretend to be asleep. You press the A button rhythmically, to control your breath, keep it even. — Joey Comeau

I shook off my numbness. I opened the door and went into the other bedroom. Two little figures stood on the bed. One had a shirt over his head which Mike was trying to pull past his ears.
"Here," I said, "you've got to unbutton another button."
"Then you'd have to take the whole thing off," he protested.
"There are time when it pays to start all over again, and this is one of them. — Benedict Freedman

Matthias flinched, teeth grinding. "Which one of them told you?" He zeroed in on Ayden.
"One?" I said.
With a growl, Matthias pushed a button on his watch and spoke into it. "What part of 'don't tell her anything' didn't you all understand?"
A moment of silence, then Blake's voice cracked through static, "Can't-" The static sounded suspiciously like crinkling paper. "Hear-" More "static" then, "break- up. — A&E Kirk

She hit the button again, holding her breath this time until she heard it.
Soft, sibilant, as insubstantial as the breaths that came before: Shannon. The voice whispered Shannon.
The blood rushed out of her head. Her heart knocked hard in her chest. Her knees buckled and she grabbed the counter to keep from falling. She was starting to hyperventilate, had to calm it down before she was taken by a full-blown panic attack.
Paper bag. Think. Think! Drawer below the silverware, next to the sink. Over the nose and mouth. Breathe slowly, slowly.
Holding the bag against her face, Shane slid to the floor with her back against the cabinets, legs splayed, lungs heaving.
It couldn't be him. It couldn't be Jordan. Jordan was dead. — Jane Taylor Starwood

I am wary of any gun, anywhere, anytime - except when it's in Stormy's hand. She could sit with her finger on the detonation button of a nuclear weapon, and I would feel safe enough to nap. — Dean Koontz

It would be great if we had our own personal force fields. Just imagine creating your own architecture in your room. Buildings. You wouldn't have to spend all that time saving your money for that second house. You'd simply push a button and have as many houses as you want. — Michio Kaku

I have been known to buy e-versions of my books because I was in a hotel room and I needed one right away to look up something in it; very handy for that - you can have it just the next minute; you can press the button and just have it. — Margaret Atwood

When you read a book [The Hunger Games], you create that tonal bandwidth. You set a tone for yourself, as you're reading it, in which everything exists within the world of your imagination. In the book, it's great when she can push a button and food comes up, as per your order. — Nina Jacobson

It's funny. Dev had always said disposables were different. That what they contained was more special because you couldn't instantly see inside. You had to wait. You had to invest in the moment and then wait to see what you got. And those moments had to be the right moments. You had to be sure you wanted this moment when you pressed the button, because time was always running out, you were always one click closer to the end. That's what it felt like here. But that's what made it exciting.
I looked at the tin number at the top of the wheel.
1.
Eleven more clicks.
What would they be? Who'd be in them? What story would they tell? — Danny Wallace

In public discourse, the challenge is not to stifle robust debate, but rather to make sure that it is real debate. The first obligation for Christians is to listen carefully to opponents and if they are not willing to do so, then Christians should simply be silent. To engage in a war of words is to engage in a symbolic violence that is fundamentally at odds with the gospel. And too often, on such hot button issues as poverty, abortion, race relations, and homosexuality, the poor, children, minorities, and gays are used as weapons in ideological warfare. This too is an expression of instrumentalization.16 — James Davison Hunter

Guess what?" she said to us. "Someone chopped down a tree in Mrs. Spencer's garden last night."

I stared at her incredulously for a moment. Not a much-loved family member, then, not a nuclear power plant. My eyes went to Florence's face, which was wet with tears. Was she really crying over Mr. Snuggles?

Unobtrusively, I slipped past Lottie and over to the coffee machine, put the biggest cup I could find under it, and pressed the cappuccino button. Twice.

"A tree? But why?" asked Mia with a perfectly judged mixture of curiosity and mild surprise.

"No one knows," said Lottie. "But Mrs. Spencer has already called in Scotland Yard. It was a very valuable tree."

I almost laughed out loud. Yes, sure. I bet they had a special gardening squad to investigate such cases. Scotland Front Yard. Good day, my name is Inspector Griffin and I'm looking into the murder of Mr. Snuggles. — Kerstin Gier

Only cowards push a button from thousands of miles away, or tens of thousands of feet up, to kill people who can't possibly fight back. — Bill Maher

I'm not sure when exactly I knew I was funny, but I always knew I was different. I never had an 'edit' button and would say whatever came into my head. Most of the time, what came out of my mouth was the very thing everyone else was thinking - but too polite or afraid to verbalize. — Judy Gold

The Doc. Virginia and Simon had told me that Dr. Dale was my doctor. I have a fuzzy recollection of walking up to some doctor-looking person and being totally absorbed by his gold tie clip. I suspected it was the button to end the world so I didn't touch it. I'm pretty sure it was Dr. Dale. I don't know who else would be so tasteless as to walk around a mental hospital wearing the button to end the world. — Mark Vonnegut

When I reached for the button on her jeans, she smacked my hands away. "I think I can do that," she said. "Are you sure?" I teased. "Because I'm here at your service and taking your jeans off is something I feel I'd be exceptionally wonderful at." Her lips twitched. "I'm sure you would be. — J. Lynn

If you die in an elevator make sure you press the UP button. — 50 Cent

If you die in an elevator, be sure to push the up button. — Sam Levenson

Never! Never, Marge. I can't live the button-down life like you. I want it all: the terrifying lows, the dizzying highs, the creamy middles. Sure, I might offend a few of the bluenoses with my cocky stride and musky odors -- oh, I'll never be the darling of the so-called 'City Fathers' who cluck their tongues, stroke their beards, and talk about "What's to be done with this Homer Simpson? — Matt Groening

Isaiah opens my car door and his warm silver eyes smile at me. "Hey."
I sweep my bangs from my eyes. "Hi."
He offers his hand and I accept. His fingers wrap around mine and heat surges up my arm, flushes my neck and settles into a blush on my face. He tugs gently and I slip out. I'm not sure if my body vibrates from the rumbling of the garage door closing or from the blood pounding in my veins.
Our fingers lace together, and his other hand smoothly cups my hip. I suck in a breath, surprised that someone touches me so easily and with such care.
"You look nice," he says.
"I'm in my school uniform." White button-down blouse, maroon-and-black plaid skirt, and a pair of white Keds. Nothing spectacular.
"I know." The seductive slide in his voice causes the back of my neck to tickle. — Katie McGarry

That day of the parade in the Village, I think--but I'm not sure--that William and I had a fight. Because I remember him saying, "Button, you just don't get it, do you?" He meant I did not understand that I could be loved, was lovable. Very often he said that when we had a fight. He was the only man to call me "Button." But he was not the last to say the other: You just don't get it, do you? — Elizabeth Strout

The Clone Wars were yet another thing to be upset about. Everything about that conflict had been a lie. The Separatists had been this big enemy, and yet when the Empire was declared they'd melted away as if at the push of a button. The big corporations had staged the whole thing, Skelly was sure. Wars sold more ships, more weapons, and more medical devices. And in the Clone Wars, even the soldiers on both sides were manufactured goods. — John Jackson Miller

Give people the chance to interact, from small to big. Some people just want to click a 'like' button, say 'yes' or sign a petition. Others want to help you build the community themselves and be heavily involved. Make sure your community caters for a spectrum of engagement - with as many different entry points as possible for those who are busy but want to stay connected and for those who have more time to get involved with the hard graft. — Marc Thomas

I'm not entirely sure what these are all for but I think the top one that looks like a stick figure is to notify people that you've found the Blair Witch, and I think the next one means "Poop won't go down. Use your foot." I assume the orange button on the far left is for starting a war, and then there are two for washing your boobs for some reason, and then one about levitating on a fountain, and I think the last one is for ordering bacon? Frankly, I was too afraid to try out all of the buttons because just sitting on it triggered something that made it break out into song. It was unsettling. Like, a pooping lullaby. — Jenny Lawson

He slipped his arms into the scarlet woollen cassock and fastened the thirty-three buttons that ran from his neck to his ankles - one button for each year of Christ's life. Around his waist he tied the red watered-silk sash of the cincture, or fascia, designed to remind him of his vow of chastity, and checked to make sure its tasselled end hung to a point midway up his left calf. Then he pulled over his head the thin white linen rochet - the symbol, along with the mozzetta, of his judicial authority. The bottom two-thirds and the cuffs were of white lace with a floral pattern. He tied the tapes in a bow at his neck and tugged the rochet down so that it extended to just below his knees. Finally he put on his mozzetta, an elbow-length nine-buttoned scarlet cape. — Robert Harris

The difference between sex with David and sex with Stephen is like the difference between science and art. With Stephen it's all empathy and imagination and exploration and the shock of the new, and the outcome is ... uncertain, if you know what I mean. I'm engaged by it, but I', mot necessarily sure what its all about. David, on the other hand, presses this button, then that one, and bingo! It's like operating a lift - just as romantic, but actually just as useful. — Nick Hornby

We go through the whole season working on next season's car and developing the car and making sure we fit in the car and all that sort of stuff. And we obviously give ideas of what we would hope next year's car would have even if it's small things like buttons on the steering wheel and different positions and whatever. — Jenson Button

It's the cemetery where my father is already buried. "Great," I say. "Just make sure you leave your forwarding address." I hold the keypad away from my ear and punch the pound button. "Got another call coming in," I lie. "At this hour?" "It's an escort service," I joke. "I don't like to keep Peaches waiting . . ." "You're going to be the death of me, Leo," my mother says with a sigh. "Sons of Abraham Cemetery. Got it," I say. "I love you, Ma." "I loved you first," she replies. "So what am I supposed to tell my podiatrist about Irene?" "If she keeps wearing heels she'll wind — Jodi Picoult

I don't know," I said, teasingly. "How do I know it's really you? I don't want to let a serial killer into the building. Tell me something only I would know, so I can be sure it's you."
I walked over to the buzzer, smiling as I poised my hand over the button to let him up as soon as he responded.
"The first time we kissed, we were in your bedroom at your mom's house and Better Than Ezra was playing on your iPod."
My smiled faded and my breath caught in my throat. It took all I had to push the button to let him into the building. I hung up the phone, as my heart started pounding in my chest. I felt bad hanging up, but he probably would have lost reception in the elevator anyway. Of all the things he could have said, he had to pick that one. — Monica Alexander

He had tried to explain the way he felt to Danny once, about compulsive behavior and time rushing too fast and the Internet and drugs. Danny had only lifted one of his slender, mobile eyebrows and stared at him in smirking confusion. Danny did not think coke and computers were anything alike. But Jude had seen the way people hunched over their screens, clicking the refresh button again and again, waiting for some crucial if meaningless hit of information, and he thought it was almost exactly the same. — Joe Hill

I finally get to the place where the book has matured in my mind and I can hardly wait to start writing it. Then I just sit down and I start. I hit the go button. I have an outline, which is 70 pages, but I don't look at it. I never have to look at it. — Stephen J. Cannell

It was like hitting the snooze button on your alarm - your sleep in that window is never very good, since you know it's borrowed time, and that it will be over all too soon. — Morgan Matson

You look at pictures of Nepal, push a smile button, and you think that's the same as going there. — Dave Eggers

Let's say that you could carry around a perfect copy of a three-dimensional realization of a Caravaggio painting (or if your tastes are more modern make it a Picasso). You would carry a small box in your pocket, and whenever you wanted, you could press a button and the box would open up into life-sized glory and show you the picture. You would bring it to all the parties you attended. The peak of the culture of the seventeenth century (or say the 1920s if you prefer Picasso) would be at your disposal. Alternatively, let's say you could carry around in your pocket an iPhone. That gives you thousands of songs, a cell phone, access to personal photographs, YouTube, email, and web access, among many other services, not to mention all the applications that have not yet been written. You will have a strong connection to the contemporary culture of small bits. — Tyler Cowen

I like old tunes when I'm driving. They're fun and uplifting. Billy Ocean, that kind of thing. — Jenson Button

Lord, break the chains that hold me to myself; free me to be Your happy slave - that is, to be the happy foot washer of anyone today who needs his feet washed, his supper cooked, his faults overlooked, his work commended, his failure forgiven, his griefs consoled or his button sewed on. Let me not imagine that my love for You is very great if I am unwilling to do for a human being something very small. — Elisabeth Elliot

It is unfair that life doesn't come with a rewind button; an undo button that can reset time after you make a terrible mistake. — Melissa Ford

Knock, knock.
who's there?
it's cancer.
cancer who?
cancer of the section right behind your belly button that you have been trying to pass off as the pinch of ovulation. but it's not. it's cancer. it's me. — Laurie Notaro

In the basement, with Ruth, I began to learn that anger, hate, fear and loneliness are all one button awaiting the touch of just a single finger to set them blazing toward destruction. — Jack Ketchum

The phone rang in the comm. center. Ian consulted the monitor. "It's Dan." He pressed a button. "Kabra here."
Dan's voice crackled through the attic. "Don't say it like that," he complained. "Your name still gives me heartburn. — Gordon Korman

For God's sake, Connor, will you leave my fucking belly button the fuck alone and either move up a fucking bit or down a fucking bit! — Suzanne Wright

All she wanted was a button she could push to pause her age, just for a little while, a few years, while she got used to the idea. — Emma Straub

I didn't mean to push your psycho button. — Shannon K. Butcher

You have ten minutes," he told me. "Ten minutes to think about what you did wrong and how bad you feel right now. Are you ready?"

He'd actually clicked a button on his watch and timed me, and for those ten minutes I brooded and sulked and wallowed in humiliation. I remembered the errors I'd made on the field and corrected them in my head. I imagined punching every player on the opposing team square in the mouth. And then Dad told me my time was up.

"There. It's over now," he said. "Now you look forward and figure out how you're going to get better. — Elle Kennedy

Why are you all buttoned up like that?" Cameron ran his gaze down the blackberry-shaped buttons of her bodice.[ ... ] "You were happy to bare all last night," Cameron said. He let his mallet handler hover an inch from her chest. "Your bodice was down here."
Ainsley cleared her throat. "Low neckline for evening, high for morning."[ ... ]
"This doesn't suit you," Cameron said.
"I can't help the fashion, Lord Cameron."
Cameron poked the top button with his gloved finder. "Undo this."
Ainsley jumped. "What?"
"Unbutton your damned frock."
She nearly choked. "Why?"
"Because I want you to." Cameron's smile spread across his face, slow and sinful, and his voice went low. Dangerous. "Tell me, Mrs. Douglas. How many buttons will you undo for me? — Jennifer Ashley

Think of the phone on a date as a grenade. As soon as you press a button, your potential relationship is blown to bits. — Anonymous

Love will push every button, try every faith, challenge every strength, trigger every weakness, mock every value, and then leave you there to die. And then you will be ready to be born at last, to become a soul who is strong enough to take love on. You'll be a romantic mystic who has achieved the elements: you endured the flames of love, you were baptized in the waters of love, and now you can soar like only a mystic can through the skies and skin of a lover's heart. — Marianne Williamson

(Back is the most-used button in Web browsers.) — Steve Krug

Reached up to push the button that released liquid morphine into his veins. — Orna Ross

Well that's what Andy wore to bed. You know, the oxford button-down Brooks Brothers shirt that he's been wearing all day and his big long socks. He'd just take off his jeans and his boots and go to bed. Then he'd change into a fresh ensemble after he had breakfast the next morning. — Bob Colacello

Orgasm for women like coal( that takes lot of time to get heat) , and men like microwave..just push the button — Anshu

Every time I feel my belly button, I feel great gratitude that I have a navel. I'm grateful to be alive, I'm grateful that I'm connected with the incredible life force of the universe, and I am overwhelmed with gratitude that I am receiving the blessings of life energy. The gratitude and humbleness I feel before the great cycle of life automatically fills my heart to overflowing. — Ilchi Lee

Now, in every city into which I venture, uniforms rush upon me, dust dandruff from my collar, press a brochure into my hand, recite the latest weather report, pray for my soul, throw walk-shields over nearby puddles, wipe off my windshield, hold an umbrella over my head on sunny or rainy days, or shine an ultra-infra flashlight before me on cloudy ones, pick lint from my belly-button, scrub my back, shave my neck, zip up my fly, shine my shoes and smile - all before I can protest - right hand held at waist-level. What a goddamn happy place the universe would be if everyone wore uniforms that glinted and crinkled. Then we'd all have to smile at each other. — Roger Zelazny

You want to hit the gym with me?"
Ellie wrinkled her button nose. "Gym? Me?"
I eyed her skinny self. "You mean you're naturally that gorgeous?"
She laughed, flushing a little. "I have good genes."
"Yeah, well I have to work-out to fit into mine. — Samantha Young

And suddenly, magically, as she started at the single enameled button, she felt as if a plug ad been pulled somewhere deep within her, and all of her emotions - her terror and her rage and her guilt and her hate - were spiraling, draining out of her like poison from an abscess. What remained was the clarity of a single thought. — Stephen Lloyd Jones

And you haven't got a 'pause' button, have you? You are just uncontrollable! — Olga Goa

all monkeys playing with a microwave. Push a button, a light comes on inside, so it's a light. Push a different button and stick your hand inside, it burns you, so it's a weapon. Learn to open and close the door, it's a place to hide things. Never grasping what it actually did, and maybe not even having the framework necessary to figure it out. No monkey ever reheated a frozen burrito. So — James S.A. Corey

Button-holes! there is something lively in the very idea of 'em - and trust me, when I get amongst 'em - you gentry with great beards - look as grave as you will - I'll make merry work with my button-holes - I shall have 'em all to myself - 'tis a maiden subject - I shall run foul of no man's wisdom or fine sayings in it. — Laurence Sterne

Do you know how sexy you are when you dress in these suits? Especially when you button up your shirt, then slot in the cuff links. Watching you is like having a waking erotic dream."
Kaleb smiled inwardly. "Yes, I know. — Nalini Singh

I think we are in this era right now where every element in a webpage is rendered to within an inch of its life. I think if it's a button, it looks like a physical button, you know, if it's a mailbox that's meant to signal a messaging functionality then the whole mailbox right down to the rivets on the hypothetical metallic housing is rendered. — Khoi Vinh

With a click, my novel would be born; it would come out into the light suddenly transformed from the hypothetical text composed in my imagination into finished, tangible thing with a real and independent existence. The moment of clicking on the print button always gave rise to strange and powerful ambivalence
a combination of self-satisfaction, gloom and anxiety. Self-satisfaction for having finished writing the book. Gloom because taking my leave of the characters has the same effect on me as when a group of friends have to depart. And anxiety, perhaps because I am on the verge of delivering up into other people's hands something that I treasure. — Alaa Al Aswany

Men don't feel the urge to get married as quickly as women do because their clothes all button and zip in the front. Women's dresses usually button and zip in the back. We need men emotionally and sexually, but we also need men to help us get dressed. — Rita Rudner

Gotten a good look at her face. But they didn't recognize her as Stark's cohort. They must not have been big on reading blogs or watching the news. Deirdre took the camera. "Sure. Where's the button?" He quickly showed her how to operate it, and Deirdre stepped back to get both of them in the frame. The camera had a telephoto lens. She aimed it at the top of the building, zooming in so that she could look at the skeletal upper levels, where they were preparing to moor a visiting dirigible. With such fantastic zoom, she could see that there were OPA guards in black suits waiting to receive the airship. — S.M. Reine

Sometimes when I observe contemporary U.S. culture, with its hard fronts and nasty culture wars, I have a strange sense that I've seen something like it before - in the Communist and semitotalitarian state in which I grew up. The issues and positions are very different, but the spirit is strangely familiar. In all public discussion, there was a party line that people had to toe; if you diverged, you were deemed disloyal and suspected of betraying the cause. I sense a similar spirit today among both progressives and conservatives in the United States when it comes to many hot-button issues, including Islam. — Miroslav Volf

Life is impermanent and in the face of that impermanence, cavort! Look death in the eye, tell him you're as cute as a button, flash a little deviant guile his way, and tell him to go feast on somebody's else's sweet flesh. — Nancy Milford

Maybe there was no rewind button for life, but surely Matt could change the channel. — Jennifer Hillier

When I'm looking for hot button answers to tough questions, I don't look to congressman or my mayor. I say, 'What would Miss U.S.A. have to say about this?' — Dane Cook