Then Closes Quotes & Sayings

If you feel as if your legs have been cut from underneath you, get back up. If a door closes, don't spend time staring at it. Be at peace and look for the open one. It'll be there. Then, walk through it into the next phase of your life. — Jake Byrne

Where are you? Touch me.
I slip my hand into his, and for a moment he just stands there, looking down at where I am, then he closes his eyes and laces strong fingers with mine. I hear exactly what he's not saying in them: You better bring your ass back to me, woman.
I reply with mine, Always.
He laughs softly then somehow finds my face and kisses me, light and fast, and I taste him on my lips, need him again, hard and fast and soon. — Karen Marie Moning

Repetition comforts me for a time, then closes in. — Mason Cooley

We all know of people who thought they could to it (whatever "it" is) tomorrow. We have all procrastinated on such a way, and often to our personal regret. It happens time and again, putting off things that we convince ourselves might be better, more meaningful, more appropriate for another time. So often that better time either never comes or really isn't better or more appropriate after all. And then, sadly, the window of opportunity -to do something great- closes. — Tim Tebow

"Screw the oath." I lean in until I feel her breath against my face, then I stop. I don't want to rush her. "You've done enough for them. You're protecting me. Who cares about the rest?"
"I do." She closes her eyes,and her jaw quivers. "I swore to get you safely through this-and I will. And then you'll return with the Gales and meet your betrothed."
"They can take their betrothal and shove it. I want you."
Audra and Vane — Shannon Messenger

It's very hard to get people, because it's just one of those things. I mean, everybody is working. And then during the off- season, it's easy, but we don't have the people during the off-season, because the club closes during off-season, so lot of people don't want a part-time job. — Donald Trump

And then, despite the fact that A. J. does not believe in God, he closes his eyes and thanks whomever, the higher power, with all his porcupine heart. — Gabrielle Zevin

I am still frozen when he reaches out and brushes a finger over the three lines etched into the surface of my ring, then twists one of his own rings to reveal a cleaner but identical set of lines. The Archive's insignia. When I don't react - because no fluid lie came to me and now it's too late - he closes the gap between us, close enough that I can almost hear the bass again, radiating off his skin. His thumb hooks under the cord around my throat and guides my key out from under my shirt. It glints in the twilight. Then he fetches the key from around his own neck.
"There," he says cheerfully. "Now we're on the same page. — Victoria Schwab

And what, then, is belief? It is the demi-cadence which closes a musical phrase in the symphony of our intellectual life. — Charles Sanders Peirce

He turns another page, and I read:
I'M NOT ETHAN ...
... AND I'M NOT GOING TO GIVE UP ...
... UNTIL I CAN PROVE TO YOU ...
... THAT YOU ARE THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS.
He flips to the next page.
SO KEEP SENDING ME AWAY ...
... BUT I'LL JUST KEEP COMING BACK TO YOU.
AGAIN ...
He flips to the next page.
... AND AGAIN ...
And the next:
... AND AGAIN.
Goose bumps rise to the surface of my skin. I shiver, hugging myself tightly.
AND IF YOU CAN EVER FIND IT IN YOUR TO FORGIVE ME ...
... I WILL DO EVERYTHING IT TAKES TO MAKE IT UP TO YOU ...
He closes the notebook and tosses it beside him. It lands on the roof with a dull thwack. Then, lifting his index finger, he draws an X across his chest.
Cross my heart. — Katie Klein

You cannot take this with you, goodman. The wedding band on your hand is queer enough. The flower is too much."
"Give me a petal then," I say.
"I thought you would ask for that."
He pulls out a necklace. It is the Sigil of Andromedus. My Sigil, I remember. It is golden. He drops it in my hand.
"Whisper her name." I do and the Pegasus unfurls like a haemanthus bud. He sets a petal in the center. It closes again.
"This is your heart. Then guard it with metal. — Pierce Brown

Enzo narrows his eyes. He moves as if to grab Raffaele's wrist with his burning hands, to burn him alive from the inside out.
"Don't," Raffaele whispers to Enzo. And even though Enzo's eyes stay black, Raffaele does not flinch away. He remains where he is, surrounded by fire.
Enzo's eyes flicker. He blinks at Raffaele, confused, and then lowers his face toward him. Raffaele leans forward, closes his eyes, and rests his head against Enzo's shoulder. I do not need to touch them to know that Raffaele's energy is coursing through Enzo now, healing and soothing, calming, pushing against the fury of his own. — Marie Lu

The death-change comes. Death is another life. We bow our heads At going out, we think, and enter straight Another golden chamber of the king's Larger than this we leave, and lovelier. And then in shadowy glimpses, disconnect, The story, flower-like, closes thus its leaves. The will of God is all in all. He makes, Destroys, remakes, for His own pleasure, all. — Philip James Bailey

Once you work with a studio on a film, the studio is sort of like this enormous clam that just opens, takes everything and then closes, and no one enters again. They own it all. — Don Bluth

But then books, as I'm sure you know, seldom prompt a course of action. Books generally just confirm you in what you have, perhaps unwittingly, decided to do already. You go to a book to have your convictions corroborated. A book, as it were, closes the book. — Alan Bennett

A game: say something. Close your eyes and say something. Anything, a number, a name. Like this (she closes her eyes): Two, two what? Two women. What do they look like? Wearing black. Where are they? In a park ... And then, what are they doing? Try it, it's so easy, why don't you want to play? You know, that's how I talk to myself when I'm alone, I tell myself all kinds of stories. And not only silly stories: actually, I live this way altogether. — Andre Breton

She doesn't seem to notice me. She focuses on Uriah. "I'm just glad I didn't die while under the simulation," she says weakly. "You're not gonna die now," he says. "Don't be stupid," she says. "Uri, listen. I loved her too. I did." "You loved who?" he says, his voice breaking. "Marlene," says Lynn. "Yeah, we all loved Marlene," he says. "No, that's not what I mean." She shakes her head. She closes her eyes. Still, it takes a few minutes before her hand goes limp in mine. I guide it across her stomach, and then take her other hand from Uriah and do the same to it. He wipes his eyes — Veronica Roth

Dullard: Someone who looks up a thing in the encyclopedia, turns directly to the entry, reads it, and then closes the book. — Philip Jose Farmer

Discovery commences with the awareness of anomaly, i.e. with the recognition that nature has somehow violated the paradigm-induced expectations that govern normal science. It then continues with a more or less extended exploration of the area of anomaly. And it closes only when the paradigm theory has been adjusted so that the anomalous has become the expected. — Thomas Kuhn

The fading dawn colors revive momentarily, and the sky shines with lilac and daffodil, layering colors in clouds like quilts stacked on a bed. More birds chime into the morning air: a nuthatch's nasal onk joins the crow's croak and a black-throated green warbler's murmur from the branches above the mandala. As the colors finally fade under the fierce gaze of their mother, the sun, a wood thrush caps the dawn chorus with his astounding song. The song seems to pierce through from another world, carrying with it clarity and ease, purifying me for a few moments with its grace. Then the song is gone, the veil closes, and I am left with embers of memory. — David George Haskell

And Belen?"
"Yes, Your Majesty?"
Maybe I do want to talk about him. A little. "Humberto would be proud of you, too. He always believed you'd come back to us." Saying his name aloud doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would. Humberto, I practice silently. Humberto.
A soft catch of breath. Then: "He had a way of believing in people long before they believed in themselves, didn't he?"
The entrance to my tent flaps closes, and he is gone. — Rae Carson

It seems to me that the students are now half-awake enough to try and wake up their brother workers. If you don't pass on your own awareness then it closes down again. — John Lennon

Just think, Vishnu sleeps in the cosmic ocean, and the lotus of the universe grows from his navel. On the lotus sits Brahma, the creator. Brahma opens his eyes, and a world comes into being, governed by an Indra. Brahma closes his eyes, and a world goes out of being. The life of a Brahma is 432,000 years. When he dies, the lotus goes back, and another lotus is formed, and another Brahma. Then think of the galaxies beyond galaxies in infinite space, each a lotus, with a Brahma sitting on it, opening his eyes, closing his eyes. — Joseph Campbell

Watch how your mind judges. Judgment comes, in part, out of your own fear. You judge other people because you're not comfortable in your own being. By judging, you find out where you stand in relation to other people. The judging mind is very divisive. It separates. Separation closes your heart. If you close your heart to someone, you are perpetuating your suffering and theirs. Shifting out of judgment means learning to appreciate your predicament and their predicament with an open heart instead of judging. Then you can allow yourself and others to just be, without separation ... — Ram Dass

And then I'm me again, staring into Dr. Russell's room feeling dizzy and looking straight at Dr. Russell's face and also the back of his head and thinking to myself, Damn, that's a neat trick, and it seems like I just had that thought in stereo. And it hits me. I'm in two places at the same time. I smile and see the old me and the new me smile simultaneously. "I'm breaking the laws of physics," I say to Dr. Russell from two mouths. And he says, "You're in." And then he taps that goddamned PDA of his. And there's just one of me again. The other me. I can tell because I'm no longer staring at the new me anymore, I'm looking at the old me. And it stares at me like it knows something truly strange has just happened. And then the stare seems to say, I'm no longer needed. And then it closes its eyes. — John Scalzi

I want you to tell me something," I whisper. "What?" "Don't get mad." "What is it, Ana?" "You do care." His eyes widen, and all trace of his good humor vanishes. "I want you to admit that you care. Because the Christian I know and love would care." He stills, his eyes not leaving mine, and I'm witness to his internal struggle as if he's about to make the judgment of Solomon. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again as some fleeting emotion crosses his face ... pain, maybe. — E.L. James

I take my first step and then my second, and right before the door closes, I look once more over my shoulder. Caleb is still under the tree, he winks at me, and I smile. — Tarryn Fisher

Instead, I read books in the library, huddling on a bean bag in a corner and getting lost in somebody else's victories and troubles. I never had much time for fiction before. I preferred real life. Mathematics. Solutions. Things that actually have a bearing on my life. But I can understand now why people read, why they like to get lost in somebody else's life. Sometimes I'll read a sentence and it will make me sit up, jolt me, because it is something that I have recently felt but never said out loud. I want to reach into the page and tell the characters that I understand them, that they are not alone, that I'm not alone, that it's okay to feel like this. And then the lunch bell rings the book closes and I'm plunged back into reality. — Cecelia Ahern

When describing nature, a writer should seize upon small details, arranging them so that the reader will see an image in his mind after he closes his eyes. For instance: you will capture the truth of a moonlit night if you'll write that a gleam like starlight shone from the pieces of a broken bottle, and then the dark, plump shadow of a dog or wolf appeared. You will bring life to nature only if you don't shrink from similes that liken its activities to those of humankind. — Anton Chekhov

One out of four people in this country is mentally unbalanced. Think of your three closes friends; if they seem OK, then you're the one. — Ann Landers

Hamm: What's he doing?
(CLOV raises lid of NAGG's bin, stoops, looks into it. Pause.)
Clov: He's crying.
(He closes lid, straightens up)
Hamm: Then he's living. — Samuel Beckett

Rose: Who are you then? Who's that lot down there? [The Doctor ignores her] I said who are they?!
The Doctor: They're made of plastic. Living plastic creatures. They're being controlled by a relay device on the roof. Which would be a great big problem if- [he pulls a bleeping bomb out of his coat] -I didn't have this. So I'm gonna go upstairs and blow it up. And I might well die in the process. But don't worry about me, no. You go home, go on! Go and have your lovely beans on toast. [suddenly serious] Don't tell anyone about this 'cos if you do, you'll get them killed. [closes the door] [opens it again] I'm The Doctor, by the way. What's your name?
Rose: Rose.
The Doctor: Nice to meet you, Rose. [holds up the bomb, shaking it slightly while grinning.] Run for your life! — Russell T. Davies

The leash snaps loose and trails after the little white dog like a kite streamer; then the knot closes, sealing shut. In seconds, an instant, there's no dog, no leash. No sound in the air.

Then Marcus says, 'The tree just ate the dead dog.'

'Yes,' says Jose. 'So it seems. — Veronica Rossi

Music forecasts the past, recalls the future. Now and then the difference falls away, and in one simple gift of circling sound, the ear solves the scrambled cryptogram. One abiding rhythm, present and always, and you're free. But a few measures more, and the cloak of time closes back around you. — Richard Powers

The idea of perfect closes your mind to new standards. When you drive hard toward one ideal, you miss opportunities and paths, not to mention hurting your confidence. Believe in your potential and then go out and explore it; don't limit it. — John Eliot

Is Jase already going to marry you?"
I start coughing again. "Uh. No. No, George. I'm only seventeen." As if that's the only reason we aren't engaged.
"I'm this many," George holds up four slightly grubby fingers. "Jase is seventeen and a half. You could. Then you could live in here with him. And have a big family."
Jase strides back into the room, of course, midway through this proposition. "George. Beat it. Discovery Channel is on."
George backs out of the room, but not before saying, "His bed's really comfortable. And he never pees in it."
The door closes and we both start laughing. — Huntley Fitzpatrick

You say you can be honest with me?" Hadley asks after a moment, addressing Oliver's rounded shoulders, and he twists to look at her. "Fine. Then talk to me. Be honest."
"About what?"
"Anything you want.
To her surprise, he kisses her then. Not like the kiss at the airport, which was soft and sweet and full of farewell. This kiss is something more urgent, something more desperate; he presses his lips hard against hers, and Hadley closes her eyes and leans in, kissing him back until, just as suddenly, he breaks away again, and they sit staring at each other.
"That's not what I meant," Hadley says, and Oliver gives her a crooked smile.
"You said to be honest. That was the most honest thing I've done all day. — Jennifer E. Smith

We feel that we have to be right so that we can feel good. We don't want to be wrong because then we'll feel bad. But we could be more compassionate toward all these parts of ourselves. The whole right and wrong business closes us down and makes our world smaller. Wanting situations and relationships to be solid, permanent, and graspable obscures the pith of the matter, which is that things are fundamentally groundless. — Pema Chodron

At a few minutes before four, Peeta turns to me again. "Your favorite colour ... it's green?"
"That's right." Then I think of something to add. "And yours is orange."
"Orange?" He seems unconvinced.
"Not bright orange. But soft. Like the sunset," I say. "At least, that's what you told me once."
"Oh." He closes his eyes briefly, maybe trying to conjure up that sunset, then nods his head. "Thank you."
But more words tumble out. "You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces."
Then I dive into my tent before I do something stupid like cry. — Suzanne Collins

There is no sense of weariness like that which closes in a day of eager and unintermittent pursuit of pleasure. The apple is eaten, but "the core sticks in the throat." Expectation has then given way to ennui, appetite to satiety. — Christian Nestell Bovee

When one door closes, find another."
Kylie gazed back up. "And what if there isn't another door?"
"Then you try the window."
"And if there's not a window?" Kylie asked.
"Then you find a sledgehammer and make a window. — C.C. Hunter

all photographs are about death, really, and time: about preserving a moment in silver and chemicals, when life itself is never preserved, when every cell of everything is already decaying, and being replaced, and decaying again. The subject and the image coexist for the moment that the shutter opens and closes. And then the subject decays but the image lives on unchanged. — Emma Darwin

Okay?" I ask, raising my eyebrows. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, cringes at the smell of my fluids, then nods. "Okay. — Isaac Marion

You find that time when you get yourself a boy, child, he holds the door for you. You enter a room before him. He closes you safe in his car. If you're at a restaurant, he gives you the seat with the best view. He stands when you stand. He offers you his hand when it's needed. And if you've got a touch with a drill and a hankerin' to use it, then you use it, girl. But if you don't and you got hooks you need put up in your bathroom, he best be gettin' on that for you and doin' it without any backtalk or delay. — Kristen Ashley

When I eat cilantro, it's like someone sprayed perfume down my throat. It closes up my throat, even if there's only a little piece. I like Mexican food, and I'll go out to a Mexican restaurant and tell them, 'Look, I will die if you get cilantro in my food.' Then there's always that one little piece that falls in, and I gag. — Amber Rose

Somebody said combat is 99 percent sheer boredom and 1 percent pure terror. They weren't an MP in Iraq. On the roads I was scared all the time. Maybe not pure terror. That's for when the IED actually goes off. But a kind of low-grade terror that mixes with the boredom. So it's 50 percent boredom and 49 percent normal terror, which is a general feeling that you might die at any second and that everybody in this country wants to kill you. Then, of course, there's the 1 percent pure terror, when your heart rate skyrockets and your vision closes in and your hands are white and your body is humming. You can't think. You're just an animal, doing what you've been trained to do. And then you go back to normal terror, and you go back to being a human, and you go back to thinking. — Phil Klay

Sing of the nature of women, and then the song shall be surely full of variety; old crotchets and most sweet closes. It shall be humorous, grave, fantastic, amorous, melancholy, sprightly, one in all, and all in one. — John Marston

He then closes the buttons, leaving me decent, and patently marked out as his. — Ashe Barker

Now you listen to me," says Ove calmly while he carefully closes the door. "You've given birth to two children and quite soon will be squeezing out a third. You've come here from a land far away and most likely you fled war and persecution and all sorts of other nonsense. You've learned a new language and got yourself an education and you're holding together a family of obvious incompetents. And I'll be damned if I've seen you afraid of a single bloody thing in this world before now ... I'm not asking for brain surgery. I'm asking you to drive a car. It's got an accelerator, a brake and a clutch. Some of the greatest twits in world history have sorted out how it works. And you will as well." And then he utters seven words, which Parvaneh will always remember as the loveliest compliment he'll ever give her. "Because you are not a complete twit. — Fredrik Backman

I don't know why it is that one kind of dark can be so different from another. Real dark is thicker and quieter, it fills up the space between your jacket and your heart. It gets in your eyes. When I have to be out late at night, it's not knives and kicks I'm afraid of, though there are plenty of those behind walls and hedges. I'm afraid of the Dark. You, who walk so cheerfully, whistling your way, stand still for five minutes. Stand still in the Dark in a field or down a track. It's then you know you're there on sufferance. The Dark only lets you take one step at a time. Step and the Dark closes round your back. In front, there is no space for you until you take it. Darkness is absolute. Walking in the Dark is like swimming underwater except you can't come up for air. — Jeanette Winterson

My short-term factual memory can be like water; events are a brief disturbance on the surface and then it closes back up again, as if nothing ever touched it. But it's a strange fact that my long-term memory remains strong, perhaps because it recorded events when my mind was unaffected. My emotional memory is intact too, perhaps because feelings are recorded and stored in a different place than facts. The things that happened deeper in the past, and deeper in the breast, are still there for me, under the water.
I won 1,098 games, and eight national championships, and coached in four different decades. But what I see are not the numbers. I see their faces.
'Pat should get a tattoo!' The kids laughed. 'What kind should she get?'
'A heart. She should get a heart.'
Little did they know. They are the tattoos. — Pat Summitt

They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for awhile, then closes
Within a dream. — Ernest Dowson

Rabid's pink eyes lose their shimmer, hazy like cotton candy. Before the door closes he mutters, "Zombies in Toyland?"
Dad pauses shutting him out and exchanges a worried glance with Mom.
I giggle. "It's a game on my phone. Rabid beat my high score a few weeks ago." I smirk at my little advisor. "We'll play it again soon. I have to get my title back."
His eyes brighten. "Generous are you! Cookies, too? Rabid White hungry be. Always."
I laugh. "Yeah, always. I'll have Mom make you some cookies."
He grins, then hops away down the hall, looking more like a rabbit than a demented otherworldly being. — A.G. Howard

As an athlete, you only have so much time. The window only has so much time and then it closes. You have to take care of yourself the best you can. — Barry Bonds

As always, there are exceptions. Adults with training can still learn to distinguish speech sounds in other languages. But in general, the brain appears to have a limited window of opportunity in an astonishingly early time frame. The cognitive door begins swinging shut at 6 months old, and then, unless something pushes against it, the door closes. By 12 months, your baby's brain has made decisions that affect her the rest of her life. — John Medina

I study my daughter's sleeping face. She curves her body the way I do when I sleep and draws her knees up close to her chest. She stretches her legs and her eyes flutter open as if to look at me, but then she closes them again. I hope she dreams in colour. — Wame Molefhe

Alzheimer's is a horrible thing. Some people are naive about it. They think, 'Oh it's just your memory,' but my mother was in terrible pain. Your body closes down. She didn't know if she'd eaten or if she wanted to eat. She couldn't remember how to walk. Towards the end, she didn't know us. It came gradually, then it got worse. — Bonnie Tyler

The girl looks out the window, watching the gentle, familiar blue sky fade into darkness. The stars come out, slowly at first and then all together, diamond-bright, each one a new world to discover.
But no matter how long the girl looks, she feels nothing. Puzzled, she looks for the girl who wanted to be an explorer, the girl who wanted to learn deep-sea diving and mountain-climbing, the girl who wanted to travel the stars. But she can't find her. That girl died when her parents did, in a little shop in the slums of November. And now she has no soul left to shatter.
She closes the shade over the window. — Amie Kaufman

No! Please no," she feels the cool metal
of the handcuffs again. "Please, I'm
Madison, I'm Madison!"
Her arms lock into place above her head.
She jerks her body, pain snapping at her
muscles.
"You can stay like this for the day." He
rises from the bed, bends down, and
blows out the candles on her birthday
cake. "Night, night, Rosie."
"No!"
He opens the door, letting a stream of
sunlight into the room.
"Please don't leave me here, please!"
And then the door closes, and the
sunlight is gone. — Kay Botha

When one door closes, a window opens and then zombies pile in and bite you in the ass. — Unknown

What the hell is going on in here?"

Hannah jumps in surprise when Coach Jensen appears in the shower area.

Oh, hey, Coach," I call out. "Not what it looks like."

His dark brows knit in a displeased frown. "It looks like you're taking a shower in front of your girlfriend. In my locker room."

"Okay, then yeah, it's what it looks like. But I promise, it's all very PG. Well, except for the fact that I'm naked. But don't worry, no kinky shit is going to happen." I grin at him. "I'm trying to win her back."

Coach's mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. I can't tell if he's amused or pissed or ready to wash his hands of this whole thing. Finally, he nods and opts for option number three. "Carry on. — Elle Kennedy

I just found this world a hard place to be good in,' says Bunny, then he closes his eyes and, with an expiration of breath, goes still. — Nick Cave

He puts his hand on the wall next to my head and moves closer. I put my other hand on his chest. Not to stop him. Just to feel more of his body.
He closes his eyes and exhales before looking at me again. "If you're feeling even half of the attraction I'm feeling toward you, then, no, I don't think you could resist. In fact, I think if I kissed you right now, we'd barely make it through that door before tearing each other's clothes off and fucking like there's no tomorrow. — Leisa Rayven

For a moment nothing happens. The figure stands still and I stand cold and alive and-
He starts to run. I make my way down the rocks, slipping, sliding, trying to get to the plain. I wish, I think, my feet clumsy, moving too fast, not fast enough, I wish i could run, I wish I'd written a whole poem, I wish I kept the compass-
And then I reach the plain and wish for nothing but what I have. Ky. Running toward me. I have never seen him run like this, fast, free, strong, wild. He looks so beautiful, his body moves so right. He stops just close enough for me to see the blue of his eyes and forget the red on my hands and the green I wish I wore. "You're here," he says, breathing hard and hungry. sweat and dirt cover his face, and he looks at me as though I'm the only thing he ever needed to see. I open my mouth to say yes. But I only have time to breathe in before he closes the last of the distance. All I know is the kiss. — Ally Condie

You see, Risa, survival is a dance between our needs and our consciences. When the need is great enough, and the music loud enough, we can stomp conscience into the ground.'
Risa closes her eyes. She knows the dance ...
'It's the way of the world,' Divan continues. 'Look at unwinding, society's grand gavotte of denial. There will, no doubt, come a time when people look to one another and say, 'My God, what have we done?' But I don't believe it will happen any time soon. Until then, the dance must have music; the chorus must have its voice. Give it that voice, Risa. Play for me.'
But Risa's fingers offer him nothing, and the Orgao Organico holds the obdurate, unyielding silence of the grave. — Neal Shusterman

It is like the man who closes his eyes to the sun and then finds himself walking over the edge of a cliff. If the man is too foolish to use the gift of light given to him, how can the sun be blamed for his death? — Katie Beitz

People treat the present moment as if it is just a stopping point on the way to some great goal that will happen in the future, and then they are surprised that the long day closes; they look back on their life and see that the things they let go by so unregarded, the small pleasures they dismissed so easily were in fact the true significance of their lives- all the time these things were the great and wonderful successes and purpose of their existence. — Paul Hoffman

Is this how you will die? Is this what you were meant for? To simply be bled out like a pig?
A spark of rage flickers, an antidote to despair.
Will you not even try to survive? Did the scientists make you too stupid even to consider fighting for your own life?
Emiko closes her eyes and prays to Mizuko Jizo Bodhisattva, and then the bakeneko cheshire spirit for good measure. She takes a breath, and then with all her strength she slams her hand against the knife. The blade slices past her neck, a searing line.
"Arai wa?!" the man shouts.
Emiko shoves hard against him and ducks under his flailing knife. Behind her, she hears a grunt and thud as she bolts for the street. She doesn't look back. She plunges into the street, not caring that she shows herself as a windup, not caring that in running she will burn up and die. She runs, determined only to escape the demon behind her. She will burn, but she will not die passive like some pig led to slaughter. — Paolo Bacigalupi

Then Father Vito gave me this verse for my meditation: 'When God opens a door, no one closes it; when God closes it, no one opens it.' [cf. Rev. 3:7]. — Simone Troisi

Lacking strength beauty hates the understanding for asking of her what it cannot do but the life of spirit is not the life that shrinks from death and keeps itself untouched by devastation, but rather the life that endures it and maintains itself in it. It wins its truth only when, in utter dismemberment, it finds itself. It is this power, not as something positive, which closes its eyes to the negative as when we say of something that it is nothing or is false, and then having done with it, turn away and pass on to something else; on the contrary, spirit is this power only by looking the negative in the face, and tarrying with it. This tarrying with the negative is the magical power that converts it into being. — Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel

There's a note on the door: "Dear kind person, Please don't look for valuables here. We never had any. Use whatever you want, but don't trash the place. We'll be back." I saw signs on other houses in different colors - "Dear house, forgive us!" People said goodbye to their homes like they were people. Or they'd written: "we're leaving in the morning," or, "we're leaving at night," and they'd put the date and even the time. There were notes written on school notebook paper: "Don't beat the cat. Otherwise the rats will eat everything." And then in a child's handwriting: "Don't kill our Zhulka. She's a good cat." [Closes his eyes.] — Svetlana Alexievich

My throat closes up then, and we're both silent, with only the rain on the roof to break up the quiet. I study the girl I knew, another casualty of this fight, wondering how the wounds of it will mark her.
"Clear skies, Sof." It's all I have left to say.
"Clear skies," she whispers. "I hope you find what you're looking for. — Amie Kaufman

The strength and weakness of physicists is that we believe in what we can measure. And if we can't measure it, then we say it probably doesn't exist. And that closes us off to an enormous amount of phenomena that we may not be able to measure because they only happened once. For example, the Big Bang ... That's one reason why they scoffed at higher dimensions for so many years. Now we realize that there's no alternative ... — Michio Kaku

You give up the world line by line. Stoically. And then one day you realize that your courage is farcical. It doesn't mean anything. You've become an accomplice in your own annihilation and there is nothing you can do about it. Everything you do closes a door somewhere ahead of you. And finally there is only one door left. — Cormac McCarthy

She closes the door and I immediately fall to my knees, then onto my back. I stare straight up at the roof of her porch, wondering what in the hell just happened to my heart. — Colleen Hoover

There is a pretty Indian fable to the effect that if it rains when the star Svati is in the ascendant, and a drop of rain falls into an oyster, that drop will become a pearl. The oysters know this, so they come to the surface when that star shines, and wait to catch the precious rain-drop. When one falls into the shell, quickly the oyster closes it and dives down to the bottom of the sea, there to patiently develop the drop into the pearl. We should be like that. First hear, then understand, and then, leaving all distractions, shut our minds to outside influences, and devote ourselves to developing the truth within us. There is the danger of frittering away our energies by taking up an idea only for its novelty, and then giving it up for another that is newer. Take one thing up and do it, and see the end of it, and before ou have seen the end, do not give it up. He who can become mad upon an idea, he alone will see light. — Anonymous

I'm shocked at how early everything closes here. But people start earlier. I miss the late nightlife in NYC, but then again I sing and burn so much energy in the show that it's probably good - I get to go home and sleep. — Neil Patrick Harris

Our brains are seventy-year clocks. The Angel of Life winds them up once for all, then closes the case, and gives the key into the hand of the Angel of the Resurrection. — Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

A certain fire pretends to be alive; it awakens. Working its way along the hand as a conductor, it reaches the support and engulfs it; then a leaping spark closes the circle it was to trace, coming back to the eye and beyond. — Paul Klee

The key to revenue growth is tax reform that closes loopholes and that is pro-growth. Then with a growing economy, that's where your revenue growth comes in, not from higher taxes. — John Hoeven

Why were you watching me change?" I explain. "Uh, 'cause I'm a guy?" He flips the pillow and slaps it, fluffing it. Then he rolls over and closes his eyes again. — Miranda Kenneally

My mouth is an inch from hers, and I wait for her to slap me or push me away, but then she closes her eyes, and that's when I know - I'm in. Okay — Jennifer Niven

A compassionate attitude opens our inner door, and as a result it is much easier to communicate with others. If there is too much self-centered attitude, then fear, doubt and suspicion come and as a result our inner door closes. Then it is very difficult to communicate with others. — Dalai Lama