Chests Quotes - Page 37

• Candidates who win while spending less than their opponents still usually have to spend quite a lot. While not a surefire guarantor of victory, a large war chest -even if not the largest-is usually a necessary condition. Money may not guarantee victory, but the lack of it usually guarantees defeat. Without large sums, there is rarely much of a campaign, as poorly funded 'minor' candidates have repeatedly discovered.

  Michael Parenti

  War, Winning, Political

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• I tend to feel really protective of songs, and if they aren't sitting well in a record, I'll pull them tight to my chest until I feel it's a better time.

  Brandi Carlile

  Song, Sitting, Records

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• And loneliness. I should say something of loneliness. The panic, the sweeping hysteria that comes not when you are without others, but when you are without yourself, adrift. I should describe the filthy province of mind, the blighted district inside, the place so crowded you cannot raise the eyelids of your eyes. Your shoulders are drawn and your head has fallen and your chest is bruised by the constant assault of your heart.

  Hilary Thayer Hamann

  Loneliness, Eye, Heart

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• And all the time - such is the tragic comedy of our situation - we continue to clamor for those very qualities we are rendering impossible. We make men without chests and expect of them virtue and enterprise. We laugh at honor and are shocked to find traitors in our midst. We castrate and bid the geldings be fruitful.

  C. S. Lewis

  Men, Laughing, Honor

  "The Abolition of Man". Book by C. S. Lewis, 1943.

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• One day, I went to a soba restaurant outside town, and while I was waiting for the zarusoba I opened an old graph magazine. There was a picture of an exhausted, lonely kneeling woman who wore a checked patterned yukata after the tradegy of a large earthquake. With the intensity of my chest ready to burn up, I fell in love with that poor woman. I also felt a horrifying desire for her. Maybe tragedy and desire are back to back to one another.

  Osamu Dazai

  Lonely, Earthquakes, Waiting

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• Homeopathy - an invention of the Father of Lies! I have tried it and found it wanting. I would swallow their whole doles medicine chest for sixpence, and be sure of finding myself neither better nor worse for it.

  Jane Welsh Carlyle

  Lying, Father, Medicine

  Jane Welsh Carlyle, Thomas Carlyle (1903). “New Letters and Memorials”

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• Instead of physical objects, (in order to have faith in myself) I have my personal mottos/charms to keep myself motivated and then I smack my chest.

  Yunho

  Order, Have Faith, Motto

  Source: lovetohateme.wordpress.com

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• I felt that I could swim for miles, out into the ocean: a desire for freedom, an impulse to move, tugged at me as though it were a thread fastened to my chest. It was an impulse I knew well, and I had learned that it was not the summons from a larger world I used to believe it to be. It was simply a desire to escape from what I had.

  Rachel Cusk

  Believe, Ocean, Moving

  Rachel Cusk (2015). “Outline”, p.39, Random House

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• I think of Grace and feel a sharp pain in my chest.

  Lauren Oliver

  Pain, Thinking, Grace

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• Walking with your chest out and your head held high says you have earned the right to stomp and pummel this particular piece of real estate.

  RuPaul

  Real, Women, Pieces

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• Kincaid, evidently exhausted himself, drew a gun, took the safety off, placed it on his chest, and went to sleep too. "It's cute," I whispered to Murphy. "He has a teddy Glock.

  Jim Butcher

  Cute, Sleep, Gun

  Jim Butcher (2010). “The Dresden Files Collection 7-12”, p.2471, Penguin

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• We have to stop meeting like this." And that was the truest thing ever spoke. I needed to stop staring at his bicep... and chest... and tattoo. Never thought the sun could be so... sexy. Wow. This was awkward. "You running over me, me almost running over you?" Cam elaborated. "It's like we're a catastrophe waiting to happen.

  J. Lynn

  Tattoo, Sexy, Running

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• Leaning back against Cam's chest, I tipped my head back and I reached up, cupping his cheek. I drew his mouth to mine and kissed him softly. "Thank you." His lips curved up on one side. "For what?" "For waiting for me.

  J. Lynn

  Waiting, Mouths, Sides

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• I drop the other Chest to the ground in shock. "What number are you? I'm Four." He squints at me and then offers his hand. "I'm Nine. Good job staying alive, Number Four.

  Pittacus Lore

  Jobs, Hands, Numbers

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• Did last night really happen?" One side of his lips tipped up, and my chest swelled. I'd missed that smile. "Depends on what you think happend." "I took my shirt off for you?" His eyes deepened. "Yes. Lovely moment.

  J. Lynn

  Eye, Night, Thinking

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• He gave a hard smile and the oxygen in my lungs evaporated. “We both know I’m not a gentleman.” “Yeah. Okay, let me out. I’m tired.” “There’s something else,” he said, and I groaned. “What now?” “This.” He stepped closer to me, so close that the containers were sandwiched between us. His eyes looked down into mine, intent and golden, like a lion. “Oh, no, you don’t!” I hissed, dropping everything. I pushed hard against his chest; it was like shoving a tree. “Yes,” he said very softly, leaning down. “Yes, I do.

  Cate Tiernan

  Tired, Eye, Oxygen

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• When you look at me that way, I feel so beautiful." "You are beautiful." He signed deep in his chest. His hands slid up and down her arms, caressing her roughly. "So damned beautiful." "So are you." She put a hand to his bare chest, tracing the defined ridges of his musculature. "Like a diamond. Hard and gleaming, and cut with all these exquisite facets. Inside...pure, brilliant fire.

  Tessa Dare

  Beautiful, Cutting, Fire

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• Let's start with where you are,' he said. 'You're here.' Taking her hand, he pressed it to his chest above his heart.

  Jill Shalvis

  Heart, Hands, Where You Are

  FaceBook post by Jill Shalvis from Jul 29, 2013

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• I put my forehead on his collarbone, place one hand on his chest. Its rhythm reassures me: He is real, and he is now.

  Lauren Oliver

  Real, Hands, Rhythm

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• And then they were kissing. Something exploded within his chest burning away the tension and confusion and fear. Burning away the hurt of seconds earlier. For a moment it felt like nothing mattered anymore. Like nothing would matter ever again.

  James Dashner

  Hurt, Kissing, Confusion

  James Dashner (2014). “The Maze Runner Trilogy”, p.416, Scholastic UK

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• He let out a sigh. With my head there against his chest, I could faintly make out the sound of his heart beating through his suit coat. It seemed to be rushing. His hand, gentle as ever, reached to cup my cheek. As I looked into his eyes, I felt that unnameable feeling that was growing between us. With his eyes, Maxon asked for something we'd both agree to wait on. I was glad he didn't want to wait anymore. I gave him a tiny nod, and he bridged the small gap between us, kissing me with unimaginable tenderness.

  Kiera Cass

  Heart, Eye, Kissing

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• It's the rule of the wilds. You must be bigger, and stronger, and tougher. A coldness radiates through me, a solid wall that is growing, piece by piece, in my chest. He doesn't love me. He never loved me. It was all a lie. "The old Lena is dead." I say, and then push past him. Each step is more difficult than the last; the heaviness fills me and turns my limbs to stone. You must hurt or be hurt.

  Lauren Oliver

  Hurt, Wall, Lying

  Lauren Oliver (2013). “Requiem”, p.16, Harper Collins

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• A strange, warm feeling swirled in my chest, and for a brief moment, when I looked at him, I saw...safety

  Richelle Mead

  Safety, Feelings, Saws

  Richelle Mead (2012). “The Golden Lily: A Bloodlines Novel”, p.88, Penguin

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• Sean settles swiftly behind me, and I'm startled by the sudden closeness of him, my back suddenly warm against his chest, the press of his hips on against me. i turn to ask him a question, and he jerks his face away from the proximity of mine. I say, "Oh. Sorry.

  Maggie Stiefvater

  Sorry, Faces, Hips

  Maggie Stiefvater (2011). “The Scorpio Races”, p.282, Scholastic UK

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• My "heart". Does that pitiful organ still represent anything? It lies motionless in my chest, pumping no blood, serving no purpose, and yet my feelings still seem to originate inside its cold walls. My muted sadness, my vague longing, my rare flickers of joy. They pool in the center of my chest and seep out of there, diluted and faint, but real.

  Isaac Marion

  Wall, Lying, Real

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