Talking To Wall Quotes & Sayings

Alex hadn't been clubbing in several years. After he and Lydia moved in together, the clubs lost their appeal. Now he felt the return of the old thrill, the anticipation of the hunt - the sense that the night held secrets bound to be unveiled before it was over. Tasha was talking about someone in New York whom Alex was supposed to know. "The last time I saw him, he just kept banging his head against the wall, and I said to him, 'Michael, you've really got to — Jay McInerney

Stop making such a big deal about lard. It is no less healthy than other fats, and it is more delicious. Nothing makes as flaky or as delicious biscuits or piecrust as ones made with part lard. And there is simply nothing better for frying. You eat the rest of the animal (including parts that are likely much more offensive), so buy a tub of fresh lard to keep in your refrigerator. Use it and be proud that you are working to bust a stupid stigma about a completely natural ingredient. Don't engage the lard enemies, as more often than not, they have no fucking idea what they are talking about. Go beat your head against a wall instead. You'll end up happier. — John Currence

All I can see when I look at him is a belt swinging toward Tobias, and the butt of a gun slamming into Caleb's jaw. I don't care that he hurt Caleb
I would have done it, too
but that he is simultaneously a man who knows how to hurt people and a man who parades around as the self-effacing leader of Abnegation, suddenly makes me so angry I can't see straight.
Especially because I chose him. I chose him over Tobias.
"Your brother is a traitor," says Marcus as we turn a corner. "He deserved worse. There's no need to look at me that way."
"Shut up!" I shout, shoving him hard into the wall. He is too surprised to push back. "I hate you, you know that! I hate you for what you did to him, and I am not talking about Caleb." I lean close to his face and whisper, "And while I may not shoot you myself, I will definitely not help you if someone tries to kill you, so you'd better hope to God we don't get into that situation. — Veronica Roth

He was done talking. Aiden came off the wall so fast the water reacted in a frenzy of bubbling. He - we - were in a frenzy. His arms crushed me to him, his mouth demanding, saying those three little words over and over again without speaking them. Aiden lifted me up, one hand burying deep in my hair, the other pressing into my lower back, fitting us together. He turned and my back was against the edge and he was everywhere all at once, stealing my breath, my heart, my soul. There was no coming up for air, no control or limits. There was no tottering on the edge. We both fell headfirst. In his arms, in the way the water bubbled and moved with our bodies, I may've lost track of time, but I gained a little part of me. I gained a part of him that U would hold close for the rest of my days, no matter how long or short that turned out to be. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

It is time to stop talking so much about what kind of leaders we want, to give less lip service to what Washington or Wall Street or Hollywood should do, and to act a lot more like citizens who actually deserve freedom. — Oliver DeMille

I swear, talking to you is like talking to a really good-looking and mildly stupid brick wall. — Derek Landy

Stupid deer," I said, embarrassed about being startled. "We need a ladder."
"I think they're easier to shoot with a rifle."
"I'm not talking about the deer," I said, hitting Milo on the back of his shoulder. "We need a ladder to look over the wall."
"Or a catapult," Milo said seriously. — Obert Skye

We don't hear our president [Barack Obama] talking about the need for high-quality jobs for everybody, giving it priority, not just giving a speech in Detroit. That's fine, but speaking to Tim Geithner, speaking to Larry Summers. When are you going to make jobs, jobs, jobs a priority rather than Wall Street, Wall Street, Wall Street a priority? That's what I'm concerned about. — Cornel West

Ray, we don't have much time," I said. "We need to access the EDA intranet node hidden here in the store. It's an emergency." Ray only hesitated for a split second. "Behind the UFO poster on the back wall." I turned and located the one he was talking about - a framed reprint of Mulder's "I Want to Believe" poster from The X-Files. I took it down, revealing what appeared to be a small titanium safe embedded in the brick wall behind it, with a keypad at its center. — Ernest Cline

No one that has ever been in combat ever wants to see war anywhere in the world. It is horrible. It's horrible looking at the pock-marked walls. It's horrible looking at the flesh embedded on walls in Bosnia. It was horrible looking and interviewing and talking to the kids who lost their parents, because Saddam Hussein decided to feed their parents to the lions in downtown Baghdad. To characterize particularly myself, but other groups, as wanting to advocate a war I think is not only disingenuous, I think it's a patent falsehood intentionally created to stigmatize a group of people. — Matt Shea

Who's that man you were talking to?"

"Oh, that's Norwood. He was checking you in for your first shift. I'll introduce you tomorrow."

She made a face. "No rush."

"I mean, you were scheduled to have a brief orientation with him today, but you know, you needed your beauty sleep, so we don't have time. Are you aware, Lex, that sloth is a deadly sin?"

She made a face at him, then glanced back at the hallway. She thought she could make out a bustle of activity behind the array of frosted glass tiles that lined its right-hand wall, but Uncle Mort ushered her out the front door too quickly for her to get a closer look.

"Wait, we're done here?"

"Well, I was going to show you around upstairs as well, but - "

"No time. Sloth. I get it."

"Deadly sin. — Gina Damico

Maybe she's got a Facebook page, like every other kid in America. We could put something on her wall."
Her eyes lit up very briefly before she slumped. "No, she's far too paranoid for that."
"I was joking."
"Yes, but you know how kids are about Facebook."
"But she's hiding from an eight-foot-tall sociopathic werewolf wizard who can call down lightning bolts."
"We're also talking about Facebook."
Tristan contemplated her. "I think I need to feed you. Your blood sugar must be getting low. — Angela Knight

What helped me a lot is the fact that I have a very short neck. If I had a neck like a stack of dimes, you can bet I couldn't take a good shot. But the fact that I had a short neck and worked on it a lot (as opposed to most fighters who don't work on their neck muscles) definitely helped. I would stand on my head against a wall and move my head back and forth, side to side, for half an hour or so while talking on the phone. — George Chuvalo

If I wanted to punish myself, I'd keep looking at your face."
"Isn't my face in half the pictures taped to your bunk wall?"
"Maybe I keep them there to scare away the devil."
"Just show him your feet," he said, going for her weak spot. She had adorable toes, but she hated that her second one was longer than the first. "He'll run screaming back to hell with his forked tail between his legs."
"Keep talking and I'll send you there to meet him."
"I'll say hello to your demon-spawn mother while I'm there."
"Try not to wet yourself like you did at the palace."
"Hey!" He drew back an inch. That was hitting below the belt. "I was only four when that happened, and your mom was legitimately scary. — Melissa Landers

People love to talk but hate to listen. Listening is not merely not talking, though even that is beyond most of our powers; it means taking a vigorous, human interest in what is being told us. You can listen like a blank wall or like a splendid auditorium where every sound comes back fuller and richer. — Alice Duer Miller

Are we just going to keep having sex so we can avoid talking about what we need to talk about?"
Prophet pulled back and looked between Tom's legs.
"What?"
"Just checking to make sure you still have a dick."
"Same one that fucked you through the wall while you begged for it," Tom pointed out, and Prophet eyes grew heavy lidded with lust again. "You're so easy, Proph."
"For you. — S.E. Jakes

Few coffee shops have books, fewer have good books, and even less will have one book that can change your whole life. Now, the question is: How many people can find that book? And, among those who do, how many will read it? Because, you see, life always provides opportunities, but not many can see them, when they're just there, waiting to be found, when they come our way, even if in the most unexpected place in the world. One has to be very sharp to recognize a window of opportunity in a wall of illusions. And the ability to redirect attention, demands that one can be capable as well of knowing his own limitations in the vast sea of energy and vibrations. Now, I could be talking about a book, a group or a person, as the axiom remains true to itself. — Robin Sacredfire

Give us privacy," James told him, his voice sharp. The man beat a hasty retreat. James shut and locked the door behind him. Handy that, a lock. He started loosening his tie. When it was untied, he hooked a finger into the hoop at my neck. He pushed my back to the wall. Or rather, the door. He reached above my head and I looked up. There was a coat hanger above me, hooked over the top of the tall door. James was tying his tie to it with swift, sure motions. He pulled my arms up and together, wrapping the tie around them, tying more swift knots around my wrists. This took longer, and I watched those skillful hands with rapt attention. "This is going to get loud, Bianca. I'm going to fuck you so hard that you scream my name. And you are going to scream so loudly that nobody will doubt just why you're screaming. Would you like to tell me what you and Roger were talking about before I'm inside of you? Or will this be a mid-fuck confession? — R.K. Lilley

Desmond ushered the man inside. He was stooped and ugly, with an unkempt beard and unwashed clothes, yet Father greeted him pleasantly and asked his name.
"Yoren, as it please m'lord. My pardons for the hour." He bowed to Arya. "And this must be your son. He has your look."
"I'm a girl," Arya said, exasperated. If the old man was down from the Wall, he must have come by way of Winterfell. "Do you know my brothers?" she asked excitedly. "Robb and Bran are at Winterfell, and Jon's on the Wall. Jon Snow, he's in the Night's Watch too, you must know him, he has a direwolf, a white one with red eyes. Is Jon a ranger yet? I'm Arya Stark." The old man in his smelly black clothes was looking at her oddly, but Arya could not seem to stop talking. "When you ride back to the Wall, would you bring Jon a letter if I wrote one?" She wished Jon were here right now. He'd believe her about the dungeons and the fat man with the forked beard and the wizard in the steel cap. — George R R Martin

Don't you hate TV when people are supposed to be talking to one another? Television puts up a wall between people. — Peter Marino

As I was trying to climb this slippery empathy wall, a subversive thought occurred to me: do we need all the new plastic the American Chemical Association is promising us? Weren't we entering into a strange cycle? Many people I was talking to carried around plastic water bottles, partly for convenience, partly out of distrust of local waters. And with cheap natural gas at hand, the American Chemical Association said it could triple the amount of feedstock needed to make plastic. But if we triple our plastics, more petrochemical companies will pollute more public waters, which will lead more people to pay for more plastic bottles filled with ever more scarce clean water. We'll throw away more plastic bottles, buy more, and further expand the market for plastic, the production of which pollutes water. But I was straying from my goal, getting into the spirit of things. Two — Arlie Russell Hochschild

I love you.'
'I'm a little stuck for words here,' she said. 'I'm just trying to get my head around it, trying to find the right way for ... Okay, yeah, I have it now. Caelan, cop on to yourself.'
'But I love you.'
'Here we go.'
'When will you admit that you are in love with me too?'
'I swear, talking to you is like talking to a really good looking and mildly stupid brick wall. Look, I like you okay? I think you're cute. You could probably ease up on the brooding self-loathing, though. That stopped being attractive a while ago. But, I mean, on the whole, I like you, and you like me-'
'I love you.'
'Yeah, well ... — Derek Landy

You were talking to that niche in the wall again, Gwyneth. I saw you."
"Yes, but it's my favorite bit of wall, Gordon. I'd hurt its feelings if I didn't stop and talk to it. — Kerstin Gier

There's one near Hoover Street Station. A picture of me, grass growing out of my heart while I'm talking to her.
She looked at the wall but she didn't see us. — Cath Crowley

Mother seemed happy because the school yard where Rafik would spend his recesses was surrounded by a high stone wall. She'd recently started talking about 'safety' in a way that made Liyana jumpy. Liyana never thought about safety unless someone else brought it up. She didn't WANT to think about it either. SHE WANTED TO LIVE IN AN UNLOCKED WORLD — Naomi Shibab Nye

I don't feel like I'm standing in a position where I have some right above other people to say what I think. We should all be talking to each other about what we think is important - whether we're in politics, or whether we're checking out at a grocery store. We shouldn't put walls up between each other. — Dave Matthews

I like talking to a brick wall- it's the only thing in the world that never contradicts me! — Oscar Wilde

People can criticise me all day long. It just washes off me. You might as well be talking to a wall. — Noel Clarke

Come on, sweetheart. I'm letting you do this. Do it." When she didn't respond, he added, "Listen, I know it's easier when they're not fucking looking at you."
Beckett turned and faced the wall.
"I don't know who hired you, but can I ask you for something?" He talked at the wall.
Here comes the fast-talking, the mojo, the shout to his employees.
"Could you make sure Cole doesn't take credit for his handiwork last night? And can you follow up on that Chris guy?" Beckett turned his head a bit, listening for her answer.
He still trusts me. He still trusts me with his brothers. I can't do it. — Debra Anastasia

It's obvious that a lot of Tea Party members tend to be elderly. You've seen that famous sign, 'Tell the government to keep its hands off my Medicare.' And I think as long as the government does keep its hands off their Medicare, they're fine with talking about low taxes. But once they start to realize that the Republicans really do want to not just cut Medicare, but essentially abolish it, you know, I just think those people are not going to be part of the Tea Party. They're going to be over with Occupy Wall Street. — Bruce Bartlett

I think "God" is an off-putting word. I don't think there's a name for this. I think it's a presence that is best for us, but unfortunately, it can't intervene if we don't ask it, and religion has us talking to the wall because the god that religion is selling isn't the reality. — Sinead O'Connor

He has a really consistent routine. He comes in in the morning at around 8:30. He reads five newspapers. He reads The Financial Times, The Washington Post, The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, and The Omaha World Herald. Then he has a stack of reports on his desk from the companies Berkshire owns, and some trade press like American Banker or oil and gas journals, and through the rest of the day, he alternates between flipping through this stuff and then talking on the phone to people either who call him or who he calls. He never calls his managers; they can call him. He is really accessible, but he leaves them alone.
Then he has CNBC on all day long with the crawl, with the sound muted and if he sees his name cross along the bottom and they are talking about him, he will turn the sound on to find out what they are saying. That is his day. He doesn't do meetings
there are no meetings.
— Alice Schroeder

Okay, what in Hades just happened? Stones don't glow blue or any other color and they certainly don't burn circles on you."
The stone wasn't talking.
Alexandra considered herself well grounded, yet here she stood, talking to a stone that glowed, burned circles, and refused to answer.
A thread of sensation pricked at the edges of her mind, then grew stronger. It mirrored an idea then became clear.
Tell no one.
What? Looking from side to side, she backed against the wall. Although it felt like someone whispered in her ear, she stood there alone. The day's trauma must have pushed her over the edge, yet the sensation persisted.
Tell no one.
She froze. Her eyes darted around the room. The muscles in her legs tightened as she prepared to bolt from the room.
Alexandra swallowed and licked her lips. "Who would believe me anyway?" she whispered. — H.H. Laura

Talking of appearances, I would like my future readers to know that the picture of Jim and me that Thomas Hart Benton painted on the wall of the Missouri state capitol bears not the slightest resemblance to either one of us. ... I've never been satisfied with any representation of myself and have seen only one picture of Jim that did him justice. I don't know why this should be, unless it is evidence of a nearly universal prejudice against us, instigated by Sunday school superintendents, Republicans, and bigots. — Norman Lock

They'd rather see Scooby Doo or Spongebob than Daddy talking about the latest Wall Street Journal editorial. You do what you have to do to get your kids ready for school. — Joe Scarborough

They were talking more distantly than if they were strangers who had just met, for if they had been he would have been interested in her just because of that, and curious, but their common past was a wall of indifference between them. Kitty knew too well that she had done nothing to beget her father's affection, he had never counted in the house and had been taken for granted, the bread-winner who was a little despised because he could provide no more luxuriously for his family; but she had taken for granted that he loved her just because he was her father, and it was a shock to discover that his heart was empty of feeling for her. She had known that they were all bored by him, but it had never occurred to her that he was equally bored by them. He was as ever kind and subdued, but the sad perspicacity which she had learnt in suffering suggested to her that, though he probably never acknowledged it to himself and never would, in his heart he disliked her. — W. Somerset Maugham

You can laugh at somebody because they are innocent, and because they are naive or they are about to walk into a wall, but if somebody's giving you stuff, if somebody's talking, giving you their take on things, what makes you laugh, generally speaking, is going to be somebody who is telling it in an angry way. — Dylan Moran

There are Four of Us

I have turned aside from everything,
from the whole earthly store.
The spirit and guardian of this place
is an old tree-stump in water.

We are brief guests of the earth, as it were,
and life is a habit we put on.
On paths of air I seem to overhear
two friendly voices, talking in turn.

Did I say two?...There
by the east wall's tangle of raspberry,
is a branch of elder, dark and fresh.
Why! It's a letter from Marina.


November 1962 (in delirium) — Anna Akhmatova

I need to think about this."

"I know."

Then I closed my eyes and realized that I had to say no. It didn't matter how I felt about the trip or the chance to get back into space. The launch date he was talking about meant I'd have to go into training now. "I can't." I opened my eyes and stared at the wall where the publicity still of me and Nathaniel hung. "I have to turn it down."

"Talk to Nathaniel."

I grimaced. He would tell me to take it. "I can't. — Mary Robinette Kowal

Sweat isn't a bad thing," he said, leaning his head against the wall thoughtfully. "Some of the best things in life happen while your sweating. Yeah, if you get too much of it and it gets old and stale, it turns pretty gross. But on a beautiful women? Intoxicating. If you could smell things like a vampire does, you'd know what I'm talking about. Most people mess it all up and drown themselves in perfume. Perfume can be good ... especially if you get one that goes with your chemistry. But you only need a hint. Mix about 20 percent of that with 80 percent of your own perspiration ... mmm." He tilted his head to the side and looked at me. "Dead sexy. — Richelle Mead

At 1.30 she left the hospital to do some shopping. Both men were sound asleep. Gentle afternoon sunlight flooded the room, and I felt as though I might drift off at any moment perching on my stool. Yellow and white chrysanthemums in a vase on the table by the window reminded people it was autumn. In the air floated the sweet smell of boiled fish left over from lunch. The nurses continued to clip-clop up and down the hall, talking to each other in clear, penetrating voices. They would peep into the room now and then and flash me a smile when they saw that both patients were sleeping. I wished I had something to read, but there were no books or magazines or newspapers in the room, just a calendar on the wall. — Haruki Murakami

You should be proud of her. She cracked the wall, and I never thought I'd live to see it cracked."
What are you talking about?" I said. "What wall?"
The one you built around you," Jeannie said. "Don't say it wasn't there. It was there. I tried to crack it but I didn't have the confidence, you know? What happened is, it cracked me, but that's okay, I'm working around my crack pretty well. But you were dying behind your wall, and you're lucky to have a daughter who has the guts to crack it. I hope she smashes it to fucking smithereens and you never have another peaceful day in your whole fucking life, Mr. Deck! — Larry McMurtry

Steve's fun to take to any Wall Street meeting," said Vinny. "Because he'll say 'explain that to me' thirty different times. Or 'could you explain that more, in English?' Because once you do that, there's a few things you learn. For a start, you figure out if they even know what they're talking about. And a lot of times they don't! — Michael Lewis

Do we really have to talk about professionalism? Everyone here is a professional. A master builder who puts up a wall that hasn't collapsed is certainly acting professionally, but professionalism ought to be the norm, and we should only be talking about the dodgy builder who puts up a wall that doesn't collapse....This insistence on professionalism, that it is something special, makes it sound as if people are generally lousy workers. — Umberto Eco

Why do all the men I know put their shoes on incredibly slowly? When I tie my shoelaces I can do it standing, and I'm out the door in about ten seconds. (Or, more often, I don't even tie my shoelaces. I slip my feet into my sneakers and tighten the laces in the car.) But with men, if they are putting on any kind of shoe (sneaker, Vans, dress shoe), it will take twenty times as long as when a woman does it. It has come to the point where if I know I'm leaving a house with a man, I can factor in a bathroom visit or a phone call or both, and when I'm done, he'll almost be done tying his shoes. There's a certain meticulousness that I notice with all guys when they put their shoes on. First of all, they sit down. I mean, they need to sit down to do it. Right there, it signals, "I'm going to be here for a while. Let's get settled in." I can put on a pair of hiking boots that have not even been laced yet while talking on my cell phone, without even leaning on a wall. — Mindy Kaling

A man or a woman is said to be absorbed when the water has total control of him, and he no control of the water. A swimmer moves around willfully. An absorbed being has no will but the water's going. Any word or act is not really personal, but the way the water has of speaking or doing. As when you hear a voice coming out of a wall, and you know that it's not the wall talking, but someone inside, or perhaps someone outside echoing off the wall. Saints are like that. They've achieved the condition of a wall, or a door. — Rumi

The more contact people have with each other, the more opportunities both have to do things in their own way and be misunderstood. The only way they know of to solve problems is to talk things out, but if different ways of talking are causing a problem, talking more isn't likely to solve it. Instead, trying harder usually means doing more of whatever you're doing - intensifying the style that is causing the other to react. So each unintentionally drives the other to do more and more of the opposing behavior, in a spiral that drives them both up the wall. — Deborah Tannen