Today Is Dragging Quotes & Sayings

Dear Jutta, Sorry I have not written these past months. The fever is mostly gone now and you should not worry. I have been feeling very clearheaded lately and what I want to write about today is the sea. It contains so many colors. Silver at dawn, green at noon, dark blue in the evening. Sometimes it looks almost red. Or it will turn the color of old coins. Right now the shadows of clouds are dragging across it, and patches of sunlight are touching down everywhere. White strings of gulls drag over it like beads. It is my favorite thing, I think, that I have ever seen. Sometimes I catch myself staring at it and forget my duties. It seems big enough to contain everything anyone could ever feel. Say hello to Frau Elena and the children who are left. — Anthony Doerr

People have been sleeping and/or marrying their way to the top since the first cavewoman said: 'Ugh, that one's the strongest and has the biggest club. I'll shake my mastodon-skin-covered ass at him.'"
"Ugh?"
"Or whatever cave people said. And it's not just women who do it. Cave guy goes: 'Ugh, that one catches the most fish, I'll be dragging her off to my cave now.' Ava sees Tommy and - "
"Says ugh."
"Or today's equivalent thereof."

-Eve & Roarke. . — J.D. Robb

What I want to write about today is the sea. It contains so many colors. Silver at dawn, green at noon, dark blue in the evening. Sometimes it looks almost red. Or it will turn the color of old coins. Right now the shadows of clouds are dragging across it, and patches of sunlight are touching down everywhere. White strings of gulls drag over it like beads. It is my favorite thing, I think, that I have ever seen. — Anthony Doerr

Every relationship that we have with people today is either lifting us up or dragging us down — Sunday Adelaja

Today I speak to my bones as I would speak to a dog. I want to go up the stairs, I tell them. Up, up, up, with one leg dragging. Is the ache deep in the bones, this elusive pain? Does that mean it will rain? Good bones, good bones, I coax, wondering how to reward them; if they will sit up for me, beg, roll over, do one more trick, once more.
There. We're at the top. Good bones! Good bones! Keep on going. — Margaret Atwood

I'd never reacted to a girl this way before. My body was on fire when I was around Rose, and when I wasn't with her, all I did was think about her. Today had been the longest day of my life, dragging on forever until it was finally time to go meet her in the field. — Karen Ann Hopkins

For Delta blueman Robert Johnson and his contemporaries, the train was the eternal metaphor for the travelling life, and it still holds true today. There is no travel like it. Train lines carve through all facets of a nation. While buses stick to major highways and planes reduce the unfolding of lives to a bird's eye view, trains putter through the domains of the rich and the poor, the desperate and the idle, rural and urban, isolated and cluttered. Through train windows you see realities rarely visible in the landscaped tourist areas. Those frames hold the untended jungle of a nation's truth. Despite my shredded emotions, there was still no feeling like dragging all your worldly possessions onto a carriage, alone and anonymous, to set off into the unknown; where any and all varieties of adventures await, where you might meet a new best friend, where the love of your life could be hiding in a dingy cafe. The clatter of the tracks is the sound of liberation. — Patrick O'Neil

I have been feeling very clearheaded lately and what I want to write about today is the sea. It contains so many colors. Silver at dawn, green at noon, dark blue in the evening. Sometimes it looks almost red. Or it will turn the color of old coins. Right now the shadows of clouds are dragging across it, and patches of sunlight are touching down everywhere. White strings of gulls drag over it like beads.
It is my favorite thing, I think, that I have ever seen. Sometimes I catch myself staring at it and forget my duties. It seems big enough to contain everything anyone could ever feel. — Anthony Doerr

To my surprise, I felt a certain springy keenness. I was ready to hike. I had waited months for this day, after all, even if it had been mostly with foreboding. I wanted to see what was out there. All over America today people would be dragging themselves to work, stuck in traffic jams, wreathed in exhaust smoke. I was going for a walk in the woods. I was more than ready for this. — Bill Bryson

Good morning, Sunshine," Alessandro whispered, dragging the satiny soft object across the tip of her nose. Curiosity made her open her eyes. A rose. A blue rose. "I figured a single rose was safer than a dozen considering the massacre of the last blue roses I gave you," he smiled sheepishly. "Happy birthday, darling." Bree blinked and tried to remember what day it was. The fifteenth apparently. She groaned and pulled the blankets back over her head. She was officially thirty today. "Come on now, up we go," Alessandro pulled the blankets off her face and grabbed her arm, bringing her up. "For my birthday, I want sleep," she groaned. Gianni had suffered through a painful night as another tooth was starting to come in and thus his parents had suffered as well. "Nope, we've got a long day ahead of us. Let's go." "Why?" Bree yawned. "Because thirty years ago you were born and my life as I knew it would never be the same," Alessandro explained, nuzzling her neck. — E. Jamie

You haven't stopped smiling since you came in."
"You want me to yell?"
"No, no," Buddy hastily assured him. "You just keep right on smiling." He picked delicately at the remaining pie. "You sure did sleep late today."
Tate grinned at him. "Yep."
"Didn't go fishing, either."
"Nope."
"Sure was a lot of tromping around going on upstairs a few minutes ago. What were you doing?"
"Just moving a few things." Tate took a drink of coffee.
"What things?"
He was beginning to wish he'd strangled Buddy at birth. "My things."
"Were you moving them somewhere in particular, or just dragging them up and down the hall for the exercise?"
Tate ground his teeth together. "I was moving them to Abby's room."
"Oh." Buddy gave a half grin. "Can I have some money?"
"No." Tate glared at him.
"Well, it was worth a shot. I should have asked while you were still smiling. — Katherine Allred

Decebel grabbed her hand and turned towards the door, dragging a growling Jen behind him.
"Oh smart ass of mine, I will. I told you once that one day your mouth would write a check that your ass couldn't cash. Today is that day." Decebel's eyes were glowing again Sally noticed.
"Uh no, you actually said cute ass. Get it right if you're going to quote yourself, you barbarian covered in hair and fleas. Bossy, domineering, overbearing, ridiculously over protective ... " Jen paused in between insulting her mate and hollered back at Sally,
"Sally, our conversation about the FAHDEH is not over."
Sally laughed when she heard a smacking sound and imagined Decebel had swatted Jen's butt. Then she heard Jen yell, "I don't care how hot you are, you're still a flea infested butt head!"
"FAHDEH, FAHDEH, FAHDEH, — Quinn Loftis

The white youth of today have begun to react to the fact that the American Way of Life is a fossil of history. What do they care if their old baldheaded and crew-cut elders don't dig their caveman mops? They couldn't care less about the old, stiff-assed honkies who don't like their new dances: Frog, Monkey, Jerk, Swim, Watusi. All they know is that it feels good to swing to way-out body-rhythms instead of dragging across the dance floor like zombies to the dead beat of mind-smothered Mickey Mouse music. — Eldridge Cleaver