Heavy Quotes - Page 31

• Oooh, that was fun." "That does it," said Jace. "I'm going to get you a dictionary for Christmas this year." "Why?" Isabelle said. "So you can look up 'fun.' I'm not sure you know what it means." Isabelle pulled the long heavy mass of her wet hair forward and wrung it out as if it were wet washing. "You're raining on my parade." "It's a pretty wet parade already, if you hadn't noticed." Jace glanced around.

  Cassandra Clare

  Fun, Rain, Mean

  Cassandra Clare (2009). “City of Ashes”, p.164, Simon and Schuster

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• Hours later the blank sheet still stared at me, and I beat my fist against the desk in fury and fustration, striking it so hard my hand bled. That is how heavy a secret can become. It can make blood flow easier than ink.

  Patrick Rothfuss

  Blood, Hands, Secret

  Patrick Rothfuss (2011). “The Wise Man's Fear: The Kingkiller Chronicle: Day Two”, p.466, Penguin

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• His eyes were open wounds beneath his heavy brows, a blue as dark as the sea by night.

  George R. R. Martin

  Eye, Dark, Night

  George R. R. Martin (2012). “George R. R. Martin's A Game of Thrones 5-Book Boxed Set (Song of Ice and Fire Series): A Game of Thrones, A Clash of Kings, A Storm of Swords, A Feast for Crows, and and A Dance with Dragons”, p.725, Bantam

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• Tie your heart at night to mine, love, and both will defeat the darkness like twin drums beating in the forest against the heavy wall of wet leaves. Night crossing: black coal of dream that cuts the thread of earthly orbs with the punctuality of a headlong train that pulls cold stone and shadow endlessly. Love, because of it, tie me to a purer movement, to the grip on life that beats in your breast, with the wings of a submerged swan, So that our dream might reply to the sky's questioning stars with one key, one door closed to shadow.

  Pablo Neruda

  Dream, Stars, Wall

  Pablo Neruda, “Tie Your Heart At Night To Mine, Love,”

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• I am wary of the whole dreary deadening structured mess that we have built into such a glittering top-heavy structure that there is nothing left to see but the glitter, and the brute routines of maintaining it.

  John D. MacDonald

  Glitter, Maintaining, Structure

  John D MacDonald (1985). “Deep Blue Goodbye”, Fawcett

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• I glance at the exit across the room. I want out. The bird in my chest is crashing up against its cage. I can feel the heavy thump, thump, thump of its feverish body inside and I open my mouth, not to speak, but to let the bird out so I can breathe.

  Han Nolan

  Bird, Mouths, Body

  Han Nolan (2010). “Crazy”, p.26, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Over the summit, I saw the so-called Mono desert lying dreamily silent in the thick, purple light -- a desert of heavy sun-glare beheld from a desert of ice-burnished granite.

  John Muir

  Lying, Light, Ice

  John Muir (1997). “Nature Writings: The Story of My Boyhood and Youth, My First Summer in the Sierra, the Mountains of California, Stickeen, Selected Essays”, p.348, Library of America

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• Headbangers' are people who like heavy-metal music, which is performed by skinny men with huge hair who stomp around the stage, striking their instruments and shrieking angrily, apparently because somebody has stolen all their shirts.

  Dave Barry

  Men, Hair, People

  Dave Barry (2010). “Dave Barry Is Not Making This Up”, p.244, Ballantine Books

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• There is nothing worse than silence, strung like heavy beads on too delicate a conversation.

  Jodi Picoult

  Silence, Beads, Conversation

  Jodi Picoult (2009). “My Sister's Keeper: A Novel”, p.71, Simon and Schuster

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• I am going to kill you," he hissed. She gulped. "Don't you want to lecture me first?" He stared at her with a heavy dose of stupefaction. "I take that back," he said with precisely clipped words. "First I am going to strangle you, and then I am going to kill you." "Here?" she asked doubtfully, looking around. "Won't my dead body look suspicious in the morning?

  Julia Quinn

  Morning, Body, Want

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• She spotted a lone dandelion,and it crossed her mind that a younger Luce would have pounced on it and then made a wish and blown. But this Luce's wishes felt too heavy for something so light.

  Lauren Kate

  Light, Mind, Wish

  Lauren Kate (2013). “The Fallen Series: 4-Book Collection”, p.71, Delacorte Press

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• As he closed the door he said over his shoulder, "Because you're a good lass." A heavy sigh. "And I'm no' a good man.

  Karen Marie Moning

  Men, Doors, Good Man

  Karen Marie Moning (2012). “The Highlander Series 7-Book Bundle”, p.1061, Dell

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• Here I am in the garden laughing an old woman with heavy breasts and a nicely mapped face how did this happen well that's who I wanted to be at last a woman in the old style sitting stout thighs apart under a big skirt grandchild sliding on off my lap a pleasant summer perspiration that's my old man across the yard he's talking to the meter reader he's telling him the world's sad story how electricity is oil or uranium and so forth I tell my grandson run over to your grandpa ask him to sit beside me for a minute I am suddenly exhausted by my desire to kiss his sweet explaining lips.

  Grace Paley

  Summer, Running, Sweet

  Grace Paley (2016). “Begin Again: Poems by Gracey Paley”, p.199, Hachette UK

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• Air grew heavy, damp, almost solid. I was breathing bricks.

  Khaled Hosseini

  Breathing, Air, Bricks

  Khaled Hosseini (2011). “The Kite Runner: Rejacketed”, p.27, A&C Black

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• Sometimes I feel like I don't belong anywhere, & it's gonna take so long for me to get to somewhere, Sometimes I feel so heavy hearted, but I can't explain cuz I'm so guarded. But that's a lonely road to travel, and a heavy load to bear. And it's a long, long way to heaven but I gotta get there Can you send an angel? Can you send me an angel...to guide me.

  Alicia Keys

  Lonely, Angel, Long

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• Love was also an easy word, used carelessly. Felons and creeps could offer it coated in sugar, and users could dangle it so enticingly that you wouldn't notice that it had things attached - heavy things, things like pity and need, that were weighty as anchors and iron beams and just as impossible to get out from underneath.

  Deb Caletti

  Anchors, Iron, Needs

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• I wish I could explain it so someone could understand it. I'm afraid it's something I can't put into words. There's just this heavy, overwhelming despair - dreading everything. Dreading life. Empty inside, to the point of numbness. It's like there's something already dead inside. My whole being has been pulling back into that void for months. (81)

  Kay Redfield Jamison

  Numbness, Wish, Despair

  FaceBook post by Kay Redfield Jamison from Oct 29, 2012

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• Since you and Crispin are now finished and I have a few hours to kill, how about that shag?” he asked with heavy irony. “Bite me,” I sighed, gathering up the pages. He winked. “Of course. My second-favorite thing to do in bed.

  Jeaniene Frost

  Bed, Gathering, Pages

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• She looked up from closing it to find Jace watching her through hooded eyes. “And one last thing,” he said. He reached over and pulled the sparking pins out of her hair, so that it fell in warm heavy curls down her neck. The sensation of hair tickling her bare skin was unfamiliar and oddly pleasant. “Much better,” he said, and she thought this time that maybe his voice was uneven too.

  Cassandra Clare

  Eye, Hair, Voice

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• I cried a river of tears but he was too heavy to float on them. So I dragged him with me these years across an ocean.

  August Wilson

  Ocean, Years, Rivers

  August Wilson (1997). “Seven Guitars”, p.80, Penguin

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• I returned to the courtyard and saw that the sun had grown weaker. Beautiful and clear as it had been, the morning (as the day approached the completion of its first half) was becoming damp and misty. Heavy clouds moved from the north and were invading the top of the mountain, covering it with a light brume. It seemed to be fog, and perhaps fog was also rising from the ground, but at that altitude it was difficult to distinguish the mists that rose from below and those that come down from above. It was becoming hard to discern the bulk of the more distant buildings.

  Umberto Eco

  Beautiful, Morning, Clouds

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• Why don't you put your ego down for a while, Justin. It must be getting heavy.

  Nora Roberts

  Ego, Justin

  Nora Roberts (2012). “Playing the Odds: The MacGregors”, p.50, Penguin

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• It was hard to remember in the heavy and sensual clarity of these mornings; I forgot whom I hated and who hated me. I wanted to break out crying from stabs of hopeless joy, or intolerable promise, or because these mornings were too full of beauty for me, because I knew of too much hate to be contained in a world like this.

  John Knowles

  Morning, Hate, Joy

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• WE ALREADY HAVE everything we need. There is no need for self-improvement. All these trips that we lay on ourselves—the heavy-duty fearing that we’re bad and hoping that we’re good, the identities that we so dearly cling to, the rage, the jealousy and the addictions of all kinds—never touch our basic wealth. They are like clouds that temporarily block the sun. But all the time our warmth and brilliance are right here. This is who we really are. We are one blink of an eye away from being fully awake.

  Pema Chodron

  Inspiring, Block, Eye

  Pema Chodron (2001). “Start Where You Are: A Guide to Compassionate Living”, p.1, Shambhala Publications

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• Jumping from boulder to boulder and never falling, with a heavy pack, is easier than it sounds; you just can't fall when you get into the rhythm of the dance.

  Jack Kerouac

  Fall, Jumping, Boulders

  Jack Kerouac (1986). “The Dharma Bums”, p.65, Penguin

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