Bent Quotes - Page 15

• Truth was a tool. It should never simply be said. No, it had to be bent, twisted, colored, until it became a weapon.

  Nalini Singh

  Weapons, Tools, Twisted

  Nalini Singh (2008). “Hostage to Pleasure”, p.114, Penguin

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• Disease. Filth. Waste. Crime. Brutality. What’s there to like? (Solin) There’s brutality on Olympus. (Arik) True. But I hate humanity as much as I hate the gods. Both groups are selfish bastards bent on destroying everything around them. They were given a perfect world and rather than enjoy it, they’d rather destroy it and each other. Excuse me if I don’t look at them with love in my eyes but rather scorn in my heart. (Solin)

  Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Selfish, Hate, Heart

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• Look, one day I had gone to a little village. An old grandfather of ninety was busy planting an almond tree. ‘What, grandfather!’ I exclaimed. ‘Planting an almond tree?’ And he, bent as he was, turned around and said: ‘My son, I carry on as if I should never die.’ I replied: ‘And I carry on as if I was going to die any minute.’ Which of us was right, boss?

  Nikos Kazantzakis

  Son, Tree, Boss

  Nikos Kazantzakis, Carl Wildman (1953). “Zorba the Greek”, p.35, Simon and Schuster

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• Redd stared at the bald head bent down before her. How refreshing Vollrath's sacrifice was. He didn't beg for his life. He didn't embarrasss himself with groveling or sniveling, or appeals to her nomexistent mercy. Thinking that he might still be helpful in finding her Looking Glass Maze, she said, "I'm feeling generous today. You get to live.

  Frank Beddor

  Sacrifice, Thinking, Glasses

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• The good news is that by the second year, those cravings were about as half as frequent, and by the third year, half as much again. I'm still a little bent, a little crooked, but all things crooked, I can't complain. After all those years of all kinds of abuse and crashing into trees at eighty miles an hour and jumping off buildings and living through overdoses and liver disease, I feel better now than I did ten years ago. I might have some scar tissue, but that's alright, I'm still making progress.

  Anthony Kiedis

  Feel Better, Jumping, Years

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• And I knew in my bones that Emily Dickinson wouldn't have written even one poem if she'd had two howling babies, a husband bent on jamming another one into her, a house to run, a garden to tend, three cows to milk, twenty chickens to feed, and four hired hands to cook for. I knew then why they didn't marry. Emily and Jane and Louisa. I knew and it scared me. I also knew what being lonely was and I didn't want to be lonely my whole life. I didn't want to give up on my words. I didn't want to choose one over the other. Mark Twain didn't have to. Charles Dickens didn't.

  Jennifer Donnelly

  Running, Baby, Lonely

  Jennifer Donnelly (2015). “A Gathering Light”, p.164, Bloomsbury Publishing

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• A social order bent on producing wealth as an end in itself cannot avoid the creation of a people whose souls are superficial and whose daily life is captured by sentimentalities. They will ask questions like “why does a good God let bad things happen to good people ” such people cannot imagine that a people once existed who produced and sang the psalms. If we learn to say “God ” we will do so with the prayer “My God my God why have you forsaken me?

  Stanley Hauerwas

  Prayer, Order, People

  Stanley Hauerwas (2012). “Hannah's Child: A Theologian's Memoir”, p.141, Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing

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• I am convinced by the events of the last few weeks that nefarious forces of people--unidentified but no less real--are threatening life as we know it, and in fact, may be bent on unraveling the very fabric of our existence.

  Christopher Moore

  Real, People, Events

  Christopher Moore (2009). “A Dirty Job: A Novel”, p.29, Harper Collins

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• The idea was fantastically, wildly improbable. But like most fantastically, wildly improbable ideas it was at least as worthy of consideration as a more mundane one to which the facts had been strenuously bent to fit.

  Douglas Adams

  Ideas, Facts, Fit

  Douglas Adams (2016). “Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency Box Set: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency and The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul”, p.358, Simon and Schuster

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• I’m a goddess of destruction. Tell me honestly that you find nothing exciting about the idea of a billion people screaming out for mercy when there’s no one left who cares what befalls them. Of the entire earth being rained on by all manner of demons bent on ultimate torture and sacrifice. Them ripping and shredding human flesh as they claw in a drunken frenzy fueled by their hatred of everything. Drinking blood in an orgy of terror...ahhh, the beauty of annihilation. There’s nothing like it.(Apollymi)

  Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Drinking, Sacrifice, Blood

  Sherrilyn Kenyon (2007). “Devil May Cry: A Dark-Hunter Novel”, p.56, Macmillan

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• Igor?' said Moist. 'You have an Igor?' Oh, yes,' said Hubert. 'That's how I get this wonderful light. They know the secret of storing lightning in jars! But don't let that worry you, Mr Lipspick. Just because I'm employing an Igor and working in a cellar doesn't mean I'm some sort of madman, ha ha ha!' Ha ha,' agreed Moist. Ha hah hah!,' said Hubert. 'Hahahahahaha!! Ahahahahahahhhhh!!!!!-' Bent slapped him on the back. Hubert coughed. Sorry about that, it's the air down here,' he mumbled.

  Terry Pratchett

  Sorry, Mean, Light

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• I can't understand how people can settle for having just one life. I remember we were in English class and we were talking about that poem by - that one guy. David Frost. 'Two roads diverged in a yellow wood-' You know this poem, right? 'Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both and be one traveler, long I stood and looked down one as far as I could, to where it bent in the undergrowth-" "I loved that poem. But I remember thinking to myself: Why? How come you can't travel both? That seemed really unfair to me.

  Dan Chaon

  Sorry, Thinking, Two

  Dan Chaon (2009). “Await Your Reply: A Novel”, p.100, Ballantine Books

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• Poetry began in the matriarchal age, and derives its magic from the moon, not from the sun. No poet can hope to understand the nature of poetry unless he has had a vision of the Naked King crucified to the lopped oak, and watched the dancers, red-eyed from the acrid smoke of the sacrificial fires, stamping out the measure of the dance, their bodies bent uncouthly forward, with a monotonous chant of "Kill! kill! kill!" and "Blood! blood! blood!

  Robert Graves

  Kings, Moon, Fire

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• If thou speakest not I will fill my heart with thy silence and endure it. I will keep still and wait like the night with starry vigil and its head bent low with patience. The morning will surely come, the darkness will vanish, and thy voice pour down in golden streams breaking through the sky. Then thy words will take wing in songs from every one of my birds' nests, and thy melodies will break forth in flowers in all my forest groves.

  Rabindranath Tagore

  Song, Morning, Flower

  Rabindranath Tagore (2013). “Gitanjali - Song Offerings”, p.19, Read Books Ltd

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• I'm going to take you out of here ... I'm going to take you home, to the world where you belong, where cats with bent tails live, and there are little backyards, and alarm clocks ring in the morning.

  Haruki Murakami

  Morning, Home, Cat

  FaceBook post by Haruki Murakami from Jul 18, 2014

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• You can party, but I better not catch you drunk. (Wulf) (Chris rolled his eyes, then bent down to said to Cassandra’s stomach...) Be wise, little guy, stay in there where Lord King Neurotic can’t kill all your fun. (Chris)

  Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Wise, Kings, Fun

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• He put the book down. “As you wish.” He rose and walked past me. I lowered my sword, expecting him to pass, but suddenly he stepped in dangerously close. “Welcome home. I’m glad you made it. There is coffee in the kitchen for you.” My mouth gaped open. He inhaled my scent, bent close, about to kiss me… I just stood there like an idiot. Curran smirked and whispered in my ear instead. “Psych.” And just like that, he was out the door and gone. Oh boy.

  Ilona Andrews

  Coffee, Book, Home

  Ilona Andrews (2008). “Magic Burns”, p.245, Penguin

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• It's no use crying over spilt milk, because all of the forces of the universe were bent on spilling it.

  W. Somerset Maugham

  Use, Milk, Cry

  "Of Human Bondage" by W. Somerset Maugham, (Ch. 68), 1915.

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• Psychoanalysts are bent on producing man abstractly, that is to say ideologically, for culture. It is Oedipus who produces man in this fashion and who gives a structure to the false movement of infinite progression and regression

  Gilles Deleuze

  Fashion, Men, Oedipus

  Gilles Deleuze, FeÌl?ix Guattari (2004). “Anti-Oedipus”, p.118, A&C Black

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• Poirot said placidly, “One does not, you know, employ merely the muscles. I do not need to bend and measure the footprints and pick up the cigarette ends and examine the bent blades of grass. It is enough for me to sit back in my chair and think. It is this – ” he tapped his egg-shaped head – “this, that functions!

  Agatha Christie

  Thinking, Eggs, Doe

  Agatha Christie (2010). “Five Little Pigs (Poirot)”, p.11, HarperCollins UK

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• He's bent over the strings tuning his guitar with such passionate attention I almost feel I should look away but I can't. In fact I'm full on gawking wondering what it would be like to be cool and casual and fearless and passionate and so freaking alive just like he is- and for a split second I want to play with him. I want to disturb the birds. Later as he plays and plays as all the fog burns away I think he's right. That's exactly it- I am crazy sad and somewhere deep inside all I want is to fly.

  Jandy Nelson

  Crazy, Thinking, Fog

  Jandy Nelson (2010). “The Sky Is Everywhere”, p.54, Penguin

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• She bent over me again. Blood began to move around in me, like a prospective tenant looking over a house.

  Raymond Chandler

  Moving, Blood, House

  Raymond Chandler (2011). “The Big Sleep & Farewell, My Lovely”, p.224, Modern Library

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• Do me a favor?” he whispered. Beth's hold tightened on his hand. ”Anything, what do you need?” ”Hum the Jeopardy theme.” There was a pause.Then Beth burst out laughing and swatted his shoulder. ”Wrath-” ”Actually,take your clothes off and hum it while doing some belly grooves.” As his shellan bent down and kissed his forehead, he looked up at her through his wraparounds. ”You think I'm kidding? Come on, we both need the distraction. And I promise I'll tip well” "You never carry cash." He extended his tongue and swept it over his upper lip. "I plan on working it off.

  J.R. Ward

  Thinking, Hands, Clothes

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• Does it hurt?” He bent his head and lightly kissed her forehead. “Only when I laugh.” “I’ll try not to be funny.” “Epic fail, beautiful.

  Rachel Caine

  Beautiful, Hurt, Epic

  Rachel Caine (2011). “Last Breath”, p.81, Allison & Busby

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• He bent down to her; their mouths met again, and the shock of sensation was so strong, so overpowering, that she shut her eyes against it as if she could hide in the darkness. He murmured and gathered her against him.

  Cassandra Clare

  Strong, Eye, Darkness

  Cassandra Clare (2013). “The Infernal Devices: Clockwork Angel; Clockwork Prince; Clockwork Princess”, p.649, Simon and Schuster

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