The Door Quotes & Sayings

Forgetting myself for a moment, I stopped to study the menu that was elegantly exposed in a show window. I read, realizing that a few days earlier I could have gone in and ordered anything on the menu. But now, though I was the same person with the same appetite, the same appreciation and even the same wallet, no power on earth could get me inside this place for a meal. I recalled hearing some Negro say, "You can live here all your life, but you'll never get inside one of the great restaurants except as a kitchen boy." The Negro often dreams of things separated from him only by a door, knowing that he is forever cut off from experiencing them. — John Howard Griffin

I had my knife in hand before I realized I'd reached for it and had kicked open the ... front door before it ever occurred to me that it might have already been unlocked. — Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Every city is a ghost.
New buildings rise upon the bones of the old so that each shiny steel bean, each tower of brick carries within it the memories of what has gone before, an architectural haunting. Sometimes you can catch a glimpse of these former incarnations in the awkward angle of a street or filigreed gate, an old oak door peeking out from a new facade, the plaque commemorating the spot that was once a battleground, which became a saloon and is now a park. — Libba Bray

Death, thy servant, is at my door. He has crossed the unknown sea and brought thy call to my home.

The night is dark and my heart is fearful---yet I will take up the lamp, open my gates and bow to him my welcome. It is thy messenger who stands at my door.

I will worship him placing at his feet the treasure of my heart.

He will go back with his errand done, leaving a dark shadow on my morning; and in my desolate home only my forlorn self will remain as my last offering to thee. — Rabindranath Tagore

Few pleasures are greater than knowing you can close your door, ignore the world and create your own. — Tibor Fischer

Things come to the poor that can't get in at the door of the rich. Their money somehow blocks it up. It is a great privilege to be poor
one that no man covets, and brat a very few have sought to retain, but one that yet many have learned to prize. — George MacDonald

No, I don't want you to leave. I'm just grabbing your coat and nudging your toward the door for fun #AHOLE — A.O. Storm

Listen, if I can manage it, I'll try to swing home this afternoon for a bit. To - I don't know - help you out or something."
His smile was warm and gorgeous. "See there. You're acting like a wife."
"Shut up."
"I like it," he said, backing her against the door. "Quite a bit. Next thing I know you'll be down in the kitchen, baking."
"Next thing you know I'll be kicking your ass, and you'll be the one who needs round-the-clock care."
"Can we play doctor? — J.D. Robb

As soon as the door closed, Levi popped his eyes again. Bluely. "That's your twin sister?"
"Identical," Reagan said, like she had a mouth full of hair.
Cath nodded and sat down at her desk.
"Wow." Levi scooted down the bed so he was sitting across from her.
"I'm not sure what you're getting at," Cath said, "but I think it's offensive."
"How can the fact that your identical twin sister is super hot be offensive to you?"
"Because," Cath said, still too encouraged by Wren and, weirdly, by Abel, and maybe even by Nick to let this get to her right now. "It makes me feel like the Ugly One."
"You're not the ugly one." Levi grinned. "You're just the Clark Kent."
Cath started checking her e-mail.
"Hey, Cath," Levi said, kicking her chair. She could hear the teasing in his voice. "Will you warn me when you take off your glasses? — Rainbow Rowell

Luneta and her parents started and whirled around, to see Terence standing just inside Luneta's door. "Deuce it, Terence!" Luneta's father expostulated. "You'll kill someone that way someday! How did you get inside without any of us hearing you?"
"I came in the door, of course," Terence replied, stepping forward. He held two swords in scabbards, which he tossed onto Luneta's bed as he approaced.
"For anyone else, the hinges would have squeaked," Luneta's father muttered. — Gerald Morris

It is seldom that we know anything accurately on any subject that we have not made matter of careful study," said Mr. Monk, "and very often do not do so even then. We are very apt to think that we men and women understand one another; but most probably you know nothing even of the modes of thought of the man who lives next door to you. — Anthony Trollope

Look, I've been doing this a long time. If I'm honest with you, then yes. The Families could have done both. The car thing is absolutely their style, like you said."

Luc frowned. "But you don't think they did it."

David shook his head. "No. Because you're alive. The Families wouldn't screw up twice." He left, closing the door behind him.

"If that was supposed to make me feel better," Curtis said, "it needed way more puppies. Or something from the chocolate family. — Nathan Burgoine

Once she had thrown a square of birch bark into the fire when her father came in the door. He might then have asked her why her quill pen had shaped a row of straight and crooked question marks and after each one an exclamation point
in rows of ten, perhaps forty running along
?! ?! ?! ?!
arranged in pairs or couples. If he had asked her what is this folderol and what can this nonsense mean she would have said the same she said when shaping them with her pen, one pair, one couple after another. Each question mark stands for my ignorance and asks if I may learn and know the answer. And each exclamation point stands for my surprise at how little I know, my amazement at my vast ignorance, my utter astonishment at how much there is for me to learn. — Carl Sandburg

There was a time when actors went in at the back door. Most of them still should. — Raymond Chandler

key in the other direction and pushed the door open. It parted a few — Mary Higgins Clark

About the Story

Not all the details in this story are true. The times some events occurred have been changed, and the conversations are made up. Most of the things Tad Lincoln did in this story reportedly happened, including saving Jack the turkey and bombarding the Cabinet Room door with his toy cannon. Tad really was determined to raise money to help wounded soldiers and did persuade his father to pardon a woman's husband so he wouldn't be shot. Although Tad's antics often annoyed his father's staff, most agreed he had a big heart and a special way with animals. Once he even hitched goats to a chair and ran them through the White House, upsetting a gathering of dignified ladies. Nothing was too surprising when it came to Tad.
Although several presidents had declared occasional days of thanksgiving, none had ever officially made it a national holiday. Abraham Lincoln finally did so with his Proclamation of Thanksgiving on October 3, 1863. — Gary Hines

Wherever Mantle went in the great metropolis - Danny's Hideaway, the Latin Quarter, the '21' Club, the Stork Club, El Morocco, Toots Shor's - his preferred drink was waiting when he walked through the door. Reporters waited at his locker for monosyllabic bons mots. Boys clustered by the players' gate, hoping to touch him. — Jane Leavy

Giving thanks is a key that opens a door to greater connectedness and greater participation in the life of the world. It is one of the most powerful spiritual practices available to us. — David Spangler

Waking through the front door of my own love story. — Jandy Nelson

Congratulations, everyone," I announce as I open the door to Noam's study. "You've finally broken Meira, the crazy, orphaned soldier-girl. She's snapped, all thanks to the mention of floral arrangements. — Sara Raasch

When you arrive in your driveway and turn off the car, you remain behind the wheel another ten minutes. You fear the night is being locked in and coded on a cellular level and want time to function as a power wash. Sitting there staring at the closed garage door you are reminded that a friend once told you there exists the medical term - John Henryism - for people exposed to stresses stemming from racism. They achieve themselves to death trying to dodge the buildup of erasure. Sherman James, the researcher who came up with the term, claimed the physiological costs were high. You hope by sitting in silence you are bucking the trend. — Claudia Rankine

Why do you have your gun out?" she whispers, following right behind me. "Always be prepared," I tell her as we step inside. I close the door behind me, locking the deadbolt and the top lock. "Boy Scout motto, isn't it?" "Yes, but when they go camping, they bring extra matches. Not firearms. — Karina Halle

Blanche stared at Emmeline's door for a few moments, bristling with the desire to knock and trying to conquer her natural inclination to defy the voice of authority. It was one of the reasons she had not lasted in the waitressing, telephone sales, clerking, and typing jobs she'd tried over the years. — Barbara Neely

Well now, look at this, they keep winter in a box. That's clever, she congratulated me. Then she shut the fridge door ... — Andrew M. Greeley

You left me.
Not realizing until I've said my final good-bye and closed the door behind me, that he's not referring to the past.
He's prophesying our future. — Alyson Noel

There is another door within the door: The key hole is the private door of the key! Sometimes, to open the big doors, we must first pass through the little doors! — Mehmet Murat Ildan

And when you came right down to it, the only purpose to life that I have ever been able to find is not to die. You couldn't let them push you out the door to go gentle into that good night. You had to rage, rage, and slam that door on the bastards' fingers. That was the contest - to delay the end of your personal match as long as you could. The point was not to win; you never did. Nobody can win in a game that ends with everybody dying - always, without exception. No, the only real point was to fight back and enjoy the combat. And by gum, I would. — Jeff Lindsay

Mistakes are something that happen by accident. You didn't walk out the door one morning and fall into some guy's bed. You thought about it, for a while. You made that choice. — Jodi Picoult

The knock came at the door, and I blew out the match, bolted over to the bed, and fanned out my dress. Why yes, Maxon, this is how I always look when I read. — Kiera Cass

The heart is the door to our inner woman. The heart is the door to our inner world. The power chakra relates to the inner man. The power chakra relates to the outer world. Irrespective of if we are a man or a woman, the inner woman is the center of our consciousness. — Swami Dhyan Giten

So many people mean nothing to us, we pass one another by without acknowledgement, without comprehending the gifts many have to offer, if only we slowed down and realised we're not all so different. My front door isn't open to everyone, but I can tell a good one when I see them just like I know trouble when it's staring me in the face. — Tami Egonu

He stopped before opening the door and faced her. "You'll leave the window open for me and you'll be naked. When I come back, I'll take what I want from you, as many times as I want to." He grinned; it was pure and raw and astonishingly beautiful. "Understand me Lady Dagmar?" She shook her head. "No. You'll have to explain it to me."
"I will. Even if I have to tie you to bed and explain it to you again and again and again." He looked over one more time. "And don't play with yourself after I'm gone. Don't want you wearing my pussy out before I've had a chance to use it." With his hand on the door, Gwenvael rewarded her with the warmest smile she'd seen from anyone. "Besides, you look so beautiful when you come, I don't want to miss a second of it. — G.A. Aiken

I'm absolutely terrified that people can get into cars. It's like the car is a face, and the headlight is eyes, and when you open the car door it's like you're climbing into the ears. (I cannot) be inside a giant rolling robot head. — Thom Yorke

Was that all it took?"
"What?" she asked, completely bewildered.
"To shut you up," he clarified with a definite grin this time. "All it took was agreeing with you."
She glared at him. "If you'd ever tried agreeing with me before, you'd have known that," she snapped.
"I had to wait until you were right about something," he replied, then hurried to open the door before she could smack him, which she dearly wanted to do. — Victoria Thompson

I'm not sure the prince was ever taught the polite way to speak to people," Cleo replied. "And yet," Magnus said, "you're still following me, aren't you?" "For now. But you should remember that charm opens far more doors than harsh words do." "And a sharp ax will open every door." The — Morgan Rhodes

Up the two terrace flights of steps the rain ran wildly, and beat at the great door, like a swift messenger rousing those within;. — Charles Dickens

And she leaves. She opens the door and, without a backward glance, goes out and shuts the door. I stand at the window and watch her go. She vanishes in the shadow of a building. Hands resting on the sill, I gaze for the longest time at where she disappeared. Maybe she forgot something she wanted to say and will come back. But she never does. All that's left is an absence that's like a hollow space. — Haruki Murakami

You are searching for the magic key that will unlock the door to the source of power; and yet you have the key in your own hands, and you may use it the moment you learn to control your thoughts. — Napoleon Hill

there's no way I can sleep in any position with so much still unwritten about the glory of basements, where,
with all the promise in crock pot boxes, small animals go to die, piles of laundry hide the machines, rusted tools fall into other rusted tools giving way to unsung sculpture, soiled playing cards and unmatched socks strewn atop a punched-out screen door make a shaggy parquet; and a famished, leggy fluorescent tube barely winks on the entire scene. — Kristen Henderson

I walked out the wrong car door and started walking into the crowd, An interviewer said, 'Give your best horror scream,' and Stan did this great scream, and I was too much of a wimp to do one. It was pathetic! — Robert Pattinson

Sometimes, the only things that make you feel good are the same ones that worked when you were five. Yes, I slammed the door — Val McDermid

Really, these wizards! You'd think no one had ever had a cold before! Well, what is it?" she asked, hobbling through the bedroom door onto the filthy carpet.
"I'm dying of boredom," Howl said pathetically. "Or maybe just dying. — Diana Wynne Jones

It gave me a feeling of temporary acceptance into that elite community, to stroll across the quad at his side. It also gave me my first faint quiver of sexual belonging, the elusive feeling that if I slipped my hand into his as we walked along, a door would fall open somewhere in the long wall of reality as I knew it, never to be closed again. — Elizabeth Kostova

Do I get a kiss before my massage?"
"Since you asked so nice." His lips were smiling when they touched hers, and she'd never guessed until this moment what it was to kiss a man you could laugh with. They smiled through the entire kiss, as he sipped at her, before slicking his tongue over her lips. She danced her own tongue playfully over his, flirting but never delivering. He nipped at her in sensual punishment before taking her mouth with a dominance that was as natural to him as breathing. And through it all, he kept her pinned to the door, his heavier body a delicious source of pressure. — Nalini Singh

I open the orangutan's door and set a pan of fruits, vegetables, and nuts on the floor. As I close it, her long arm reaches through the bars. She points at an orange in another pan.
'That? You want that?'
She continues to point, blinking at me with close-set eyes. Her features are concave, her face a wide platter fringed with red hair. She's the most outrageous and beautiful thing I've ever seen.
'Here,' I say, handing her the orange. 'You can have it.'
She takes it and sets it on the floor. Then she reaches out again. After several seconds of serious misgivings, I hold out my hand. She wraps her long fingers around it, then lets go. She sits on her haunches and peels her orange.
I stare in amazement. She was thanking me. — Sara Gruen

Or, suppose you want to motivate your managers to ship products on time, so you conspicuously promote each manager whose product goes out the door on schedule. All goes as planned until the situation arises in which one of your managers has a project where the testers are reporting numerous problems. Because managers who have shipped products on time have been promoted, this manager thinks, I want that promotion so I need to ship this on time, but those bug reports are getting in the way. I know what I'll do! I'll put the testers on another project until the developers have a chance to catch up. — Gerald M. Weinberg

I have this complex that if I walk into a place wearing a colorful shirt someone will stop me and say, 'I'm sorry, but the Latin band comes through the other door.' — Oscar De La Renta

On my face extended flat
I was walloped with a cat
For listening at the key-hole of the door. — W.S. Gilbert

Hey! Leave the door open will ya? The flies haven't been out all day. — Redd Foxx

The day will come when those knocking at the door will see it open; those who ask will receive; those who weep will be consoled. — Paulo Coelho

If there is one door in the castle you have been told not to go through, you must. Otherwise, you'll just be rearranging furniture in rooms you've already been in. — Anne Lamott

For some, religion is the cement that seals shut their door on the world — Carol Shields

You cannot save every fallen bird," said Woosley, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms. "Even the handsome ones." "One will do," said Magnus, and, as Will was no longer within his sight, he let the front door fall shut. — Cassandra Clare

This can't happen again, Wyatt. We're done. It's over."

A palm slapped against the door, right next to her head, so hard she jumped.

"I don't think so."

"If you think I can spend the next thirteen days seeing you, hearing you, smelling you"--he inhaled deeply and growled a little--"without touching you, you're very, very mistaken."

"It's not over, Faith. It's just begun."

~Wyatt — Sydney Croft

A giving attitude is the key to the door of abundance. — Debasish Mridha

What if everything you see is more than what you see
the person next to you is a warrior and the space that appears empty is a secret door to another world? What if something appears that shouldn't? You either dismiss it, or you accept that there is much more to the world than you think. Perhaps it is really a doorway, and if you choose to go inside, you'll find many unexpected things. — Shigeru Miyamoto

When you opened the door a bell tinkled, but just once, high and clear and small in the neat obscurity above the door, as though it were gauged and tempered to make that single clear small sound so as not to wear the bell out nor to require the expenditure of too much silence in restoring it when the door opened upon the recent warm scent of baking; a little dirty child with eyes like a toy bear's and two patent-leather pigtails. — William Faulkner

What I've learned to do when I sit down to work on a shitty first draft is to quiet the voices in my head. First there's the vinegar-lipped Reader Lady, who says primly, "Well, that's not very interesting, is it?" And there's the emaciated German male who writes these Orwellian memos detailing your thought crimes. And there are your parents, agonizing over your lack of loyalty and discretion; and there's William Burroughs, dozing off or shooting up because he finds you as bold and articulate as a houseplant; and so on. And there are also the dogs: let's not forget the dogs, the dogs in their pen who will surely hurtle and snarl their way out if you ever stop writing, because writing is, for some of us, the latch that keeps the door of the pen closed, keeps those crazy ravenous dogs contained. — Anne Lamott

O brave new world, that hath such people in it
Soon you will be like her, Prospero's daughter,
Finding the door that leads you out of yourself,
Out of the rare, enameled ark of your mind,
Where you live with the gracious and light-footed creatures
That thrive in the glaze of your art and freedom. — Lisel Mueller

I happen to love working in cinema, but the theater is always there ... you know, and I would never shut the door on it. Even though it's been quite a bit of time since I've done a play, last one was in New York. — Michael York

Let's see it," Boyd calls from outside the dressing room.

"How do you know I like this one enough to come out?"

"Because you've been in the same dress for five minutes and you're wearing pretend heels," he answers drily.

Wait. I fling open the door. "Are you watching me under the fitting room door? That's kind of pervy."

He smiles slowly. "All I can see are your feet to mid calf."

"Maybe you have a foot fetish. — Jana Aston

Death is a solemn event for everyone. It is the winding up of all earthly plans & expectations. It is a separation from all we have loved and lived with. It is often accompanied by much bodily pain and distress. It opens the door to judgement and eternity - to heaven or to hell. It is an event after which there is no change, or space for repentance — J.C. Ryle

The internet has opened the door for millions of businesses to do things differently, because there are other assets now, assets that can transcend location. Your permission to talk to customers, your reputation, your unique products-you can build a business around them online. — Seth Godin

Mystery is what happens to us when we allow life to evolve rather than having to make it happen all the time. It is the strange knock at the door, the sudden sight of an unceremoniously blooming flower, an afternoon in the yard, a day of riding the midtown bus. Just to see. Just to notice. Just to be there. — Joan D. Chittister

Carl waited while I knocked, and when the door opened I came within an ace of slipping a couple of pound coins into his gloved hand and asking him to book me a table at L'Epicure. Luckily, he stopped me by saluting violently, then turned on his heel and set off back down the corridor at a hundred and ten paces to the minute. — Hugh Laurie

The fog was back. It seeped in through the streets, from the cracks around the closed windows behind the trees in the avenue, out of the blue door which opened after they had heard Weber's abrupt bark over the intercom, and out through the keyholes in the doors they passed on the way upstairs. — Jo Nesbo

I do not enjoy writing at all. If I can turn my back on an idea, out there in the dark, if I can avoid opening the door to it, I won't even reach for a pencil. — Richard Bach

I have cried even when the laugh did choke me. But no more think that I am all sorry when I cry, for the laugh he come just the same. Keep it always with you that laughter who knock at your door and say, 'May I come in?' is not true laughter. No! He is a king, and he come when and how he like. He ask no person, he choose no time of suitability. He say, 'I am here. — Bram Stoker

Some nasty bitch of a woman from the coven of moral and ethical standards tried to fry Rache" the pixy said apparently proud of it. "I pixed the Tink-blasted dildo, and Rache's black-arts boyfriend blew her right out the front door. "Bam! — Kim Harrison

The man was rude, crude, and inappropriate. I was taken with him the moment I walked in the door, and I knew the first moment I saw him that it was going to be raw, it was going to be ugly, and I was going to enjoy every damn minute of it. — C.M. Stunich

I need you to make a choice, Breanna. If you want things to stay as they are between us, then I need you to walk out that door. Otherwise, it's going to change."
She tilts her head as if she's as lost in emotion as I am. "It's already changed."
A part of me mourns for her. She's the firefly I'm not sure I'll be able to keep alive, but I shove those thoughts away. Breanna is here, and she isn't leaving, which means she's mine. — Katie McGarry

I really hope you like this," he says again, and flings open the door.
It's a glass room, a greenhouse, I realize. Within are tulips, hundreds, of all colors. Tulips bloom in the middle of July in Desi's lake house. In their own special room for a very special girl.
"I know tulips are your favorite, but the season is so short," Desi said. "So I fixed that for you. They'll bloom year-round. — Gillian Flynn

The wiry man scratched his head, looked the two inquisitors up and down and cleared his throat softly. "We must be quick." He turned to go, pulling his cloak over his head and shuffling through the door into the moonlight. The two inquisitors moved with impossible silence behind, floating across the straw-covered floor like the cats on the walls outside the hut. The cats froze at the disturbance before scurrying noiselessly into the shadows as the three silhouettes crossed the ten yards of grass before the blackness of the forest swallowed them. No fires flickered at this time, when the full moon was highest in the cloudless summer sky, and the three were the only waking souls in the hamlet. — Gregory Figg

At the front door I see Tommy, a dark, unhappy shape in the middle of the sunny afternoon. We match, I think. But we don't go together. — Amanda Maciel

I had spent the day
friendless, lonely and sad,
a stranger to myself.



After drowning the day
on the sea shore,
I walked back
to my empty house
on the deserted street.



The moment
I opened the door,
the book on my table
flipped its pages
and said:

"Friend,
Where were you
for so long? — Gulzar

If you are a millionaire beset by blackmailers or anyone else to whose comfort the best legal advice is essential, and have decided to put your affairs in the hands of the ablest and discreetest firm in London, you proceed through a dark and grimy entry and up a dark and grimy flight of stairs; and, having felt your way along a dark and grimy passage, you come at length to a dark and grimy door. There is plenty of dirt in other parts of Ridgeway's Inn, but nowhere is it so plentiful, so rich in alluvial deposits, as on the exterior of the offices of Marlowe, Thorpe, Prescott, Winslow and Appleby. As you tap on the topmost of the geological strata concealing the ground-glass of the door, a sense of relief and security floods your being. For in London grubbiness is the gauge of a lawyer's respectability. — P.G. Wodehouse

What, you didn't pack your lunch?" Ty asked sarcastically as he
shifted around in the seat and wedged himself against the door. He kicked a
foot up and propped it on the console between the two front seats.
"Sure, in my SpongeBob SquarePants lunch box. I have the thermos,
too," Morrison shot right back.
Zane kept his mouth shut, eyes moving between the two men, and
occasionally back to the driver, who was casually paying attention.
Ty stared at the kid and narrowed his eyes further. "Spongewhat?" he
asked flatly.
Zane didn't even try to hold back the chuckle when Morrison looked
at Ty like he'd lost his mind.
"Spongewha ... you're yanking my chain, aren't you?" Morrison
said. "Henny, he's yanking my chain."
"Yeah, well, that's what you getting for waving it in his face," the
driver answered reasonably.
"What the hell is a SpongeBob?" Ty asked Zane quietly in the
backseat. — Madeleine Urban

A silence, the brief Sabbath of an hour,
Reigns o'er the fields; the laborer sits within
His dwelling; he has left his steers awhile,
Unyoked, to bite the herbage, and his dog
Sleeps stretched beside the door-stone in the shade.
Now the gray marmot, with uplifted paws,
No more sits listening by his den, but steals
Abroad, in safety, to the clover-field,
And crops its juicy-blossoms. — William C. Bryant

The jailer is you. You're the only person who has the key to your cell. You're the only one who can open the door that leads to freedom. — Norman Vincent Peale

But sometimes illumination comes to our rescue at the very moment when all seems lost; we have knocked at every door and they open on nothing until, at last, we stumble unconsciously against the only one through which we can enter the kingdom we have sought in vain a hundred years - and it opens. — Marcel Proust

We'd done little more than introduce ourselves to the woman at the front desk of the
tailor, when the door behind us opened. I didn't turn around at first, not really caring who else walked into the store, but when Will spoke to someone, I looked to see who it was.
Clay.
In his blue fireman pants and boots and a blue tee-shirt with Hartford Fire Department written on the front.
Great.
Just fucking great.
"When I texted Clay earlier," Will said, "I told him we'd be here and wouldn't be long,
and that he should come down if he had time."
I guess he had time.
Where the fuck are all the pyromaniacs when I need them? — N.R. Walker

Sometimes I think I am a strange, strange creature -- something not of earth, nor yet of heaven, nor of hell. I think at times I am a little thing fallen on the earth by mistake: a thing thrown among foreign, unfitting elements, where every little door is closed -- every Why unanswered, and itself knows not where to lay its head. I feel a deadly certainty in some moments that the wild world contains not one moment of rest for me, that there will never be any rest, that my woman's-soul will go on asking long, long centuries after my woman's-body is laid in its grave. — Mary MacLane

There are always door openings. And gradually, it accumulates. The opportunities open up in front of you. — Buzz Aldrin

She didn't know Matt had followed her until he grabbed her shoulder, halting her headlong rush to nowhere. He turned her into his arms, pulled her against his chest, crushed her mouth in a searing kiss.
"Shane," he said when he raised his head from hers. "I love you. I love you."
Her heart opened and the wall inside her trembled as she clung to him. "Burn me up, Matt," she said, her voice a ragged whisper. "Burn it away. Please, please, burn it all away."
She heard him growl deep in his throat and he lifted her into his arms in one swift movement.
As he carried her back across the parking lot and through the door of her room, she rained kisses on his neck and the hard line of his jaw. His skin was warm and damp and tasted of salt and desire. — Jane Taylor Starwood

Kate, I need to use the toilet," he called through the door.
"You've just had hours in the sea. Couldn't you have gone then?"
"Mum told me to get out of the water first."
"What, even the ocean?"
"It's wrong to pollute." He tried to sound serious. — Barbara Elsborg

Joe Spork opens the door. The man departs. Joe turns to Polly to say something about how they're obviously not going to Portsmouth, and finds an oyster knife balanced on his cheek, just under his eye.

"Can we be very clear," Polly Cradle murmurs, "that I am not your booby sidekick or your Bond girl? That I am an independent supervillain in my own right?"

Joe swallows. "Yes, we can," he says carefully.

"There will therefore be no more 'Say hello, Polly'?"

"There will not. — Nick Harkaway

Who should open the door of success for you...you that's who! — Jerry Gladstone

My sister deserves the world," Max agreed. "She's not willing to take it for herself, though. Someone is going to have to give it to her. And, for someone to give it to her, she's going to have to let that someone get close to her. The only one who has even made it through her front door is you. That has to mean something. — Lily Harper Hart

Out of the new arrivals in our lives
the odd word stumbled upon in a difficult text, the handsome black stranger who bursts in one night through the cat door, the telephone call out of a friend's silence of years, the sudden greeting from the girl-child
we constantly make of ourselves our selves. — Nancy Mairs

before Reese could hit play, a knock came at the door. Reese looked over, ready to yell at whoever was at the door, but tat didn't happen. Instead, her heart kicked into gear and her nipples hardened as one hell of a gorgeous man came through the door with a careless grin on his face. She had no clue who the guy was, but she wanted to know him naked. — Toni Aleo

Well, when I was a little girl we had 17 cats once. They all lived outside, and they kept having more kittens. My mom made us put little ribbons around each kitten's neck, put them in a wagon, and go door-to-door around the neighborhood to try to give them away. — Cheryl Hines

The first slap-jack given me for dinner was a cake of flour, partially fried in a pan of fat bacon. I nibbled about the brown edges and threw it, unbaked, against a barn door, where it stuck for days. — James Smith

You always hold the key of repentance to unlock the prison door. If they throw the word diversity at you, grab hold of it and say, "I am already diverse, and I intend to stay diverse." If the word is tolerance, grab that one, too, saying, "I expect you to be tolerant of my lifestyle-obedience, integrity, abstinence, repentance." If the word is choice, tell them you choose good, old-fashioned morality. — Boyd K. Packer

A wind with a wolf's head
Howled about our door,
And we burned up the chairs
And sat upon the floor. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

Poetry is the opening and closing of a door, leaving those who look through to guess about what was seen during a moment. — Carl Sandburg

Er eyes were the color of faraway love
her arms were matching topazes
her lips moved soundlessly in the coral light
and ultimately, she left by the door.. — Pablo Neruda

[Olive's] left foot was bleeding through a wide swath of bandages onto the tarp it was resting on. The bowl next to her was full of blood.
Olive looked a little pale. "I don't think I should move," she said.
"What are you doing?" Roger shut the door behind him and stood with his back to it.
"I decided I might try to eat my toes," Olive said, closing her eyes. "But now that I've started, I don't think I should move."
Roger pushed himself off the wall and knelt down next to her. He unbuckled her silver belt and reached with it under her dress. He looped the belt around the top of her leg and tightened it. His hands were not shaking.
"Sit on the loose end," he said, pushing it under her. "I hope that works."
"You brought flowers," she said, blinking.
"Olive," he said. "You cut off your toes."
She looked down at the bowl. "Are they still toes?" she asked. — Amelia Gray

Naomi's comin' over with some chow she got at that sushi place," Alex said. "Nice raw fish wrapped in fake seaweed." Amos groaned again. "That's not nice, Alex," Holden said. "Let the man's liver die in peace." The door to the suite slid open again, and Naomi came in carrying a tall stack of white boxes. "Food's here," she said. Alex opened all the boxes and started handing around small disposable plates. "Every time it's your turn to get food, you get salmon rolls. It shows a lack of imagination," Holden said as he began putting food on his plate. "I like salmon," Naomi replied. — James S.A. Corey

Somewhere "out there," beyond the walls of the courthouse, run currents and tides of public opinion which lap at the courtroom door. — William Rehnquist

And language for Tolkien was also the soil from which his literary garden grew, as he explains in a 1966 interview, referring again to "cellar door": "Supposing you say some quite ordinary words to me - 'cellar door,' say. From that, I might think of a name, 'Selador,' and from that a character, a situation begins to grow. — Philip Zaleski