Shoulders Quotes - Page 38

He (Jace) glanced down at his bound hands. His wrists and shoulders had gone from aching to hard, stabbing pain, but he didn’t wince as the inquisitor regarded one of the blades, named it Jophiel, and plunged it into the polished wooden floorboards at her feet. He waited, but nothing happened. “Boom,” he said eventually. “Was something supposed to happen there?” ~pg.303~

Cassandra Clare

Pain, Hands, Feet

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She moved nearer, leaned her shoulder against me — and we were one, and something flowed from her into me, and I knew: this is how it must be. I knew it with every nerve, and every hair, every heartbeat, so sweet it verged on pain. And what joy to submit to this 'must'. A piece of iron must feel such joy as it submits to the precise, inevitable law that draws it to a magnet. Or a stone, thrown up, hesitating a moment, then plunging headlong back to earth. Or a man, after the final agony, taking a last deep breath — and dying.

Yevgeny Zamyatin

Sweet, Pain, Men

Yevgeny Zamyatin “We”, Two-Gunner Pulp Press

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I am not exuding anything," said Holly through gritted teeth. Orion tapped her shoulder. "I beg to differ. You're exuding right now, a wonderful aura. It's pastel blue with little dolphins.

Eoin Colfer

Blue, Hollies, Dolphins

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A crystalline moment shatters, and the world is a different place. Where there was confinement, now there is release. Recoiling from my sudden liberation, my left arm flings downcanyon, opening my shoulders to the south, and I fall back against the northern wall of the canyon, my mind is surfing on euphoria. As I stare at the wall where not twelve hours ago I etched “RIP OCT 75 ARON APR 03,” a voice shouts in my head: I AM FREE!

Aron Ralston

Wall, Rip, Fall

Aron Ralston (2004). “Between a Rock and a Hard Place: The Basis of the Motion Picture 127 Hours”, p.285, Simon and Schuster

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And each stroke of his tongue ripped off skin after successive skin, all the skins of a life in the world, and left behind a nascent patina of shining hairs. My earrings turned back to water and trickled down my shoulders; I shrugged the drops off my beautiful fur.

Angela Carter

Beautiful, Hair, Water

Angela Carter (1997). “Burning your boats: the collected short stories”, Penguin Group USA

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Kat!” Gabrielle hissed. “You’re going to get caught." The smile Kat flashed over her shoulder was almost wicked. “I know.

Ally Carter

Wicked, Caught, Knows

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...the first thing you do at the end is reflect on the beginning. Maybe it's some form of reverse closure, or just the basic human impulse toward sentimentality, or masochism, but as you stand there shell-shocked in the charred ruins of your life, your mind will invariably go back to the time when it all started. And even if you didn't fall in love in the eighties, in your mind it will fee like the eighties, all innocent and airbrushed, with bright colors and shoulder pads and Pat Benatar or The Cure on the soundtrack.

Jonathan Tropper

Falling In Love, Color, Mind

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Come, my child," I said, trying to lead her away. "Wish good-bye to the poor hare, and come and look for blackberries." "Good-bye, poor hare!" Sylvie obediently repeated, looking over her shoulder at it as we turned away. And then, all in a moment, her self-command gave way. Pulling her hand out of mine, she ran back to where the dead hare was lying, and flung herself down at its side in such an agony of grief as I could hardly have believed possible in so young a child. "Oh, my darling, my darling!" she moaned, over and over again. "And God meant your life to be so beautiful!

Lewis Carroll

Beautiful, Children, Lying

Lewis Carroll (2016). “Sylvie and Bruno”, p.181, Lewis Carroll

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Derek lunged. He hit me in the shoulder and knocked me to the floor, landing on top of me. His body jerked, like he'd been hit with the spell, and I let out a yelp, struggling to get up, but he held me down, whispering "I'm okay, it's okay" until the words penetrated.

Kelley Armstrong

Struggle, Whispering, Body

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Can’t you even tell me if I’m on the right track?" Buckminster purred, and Dad shrugged his shoulders again. "But if you don’t tell me anything, how can I ever be right?" He circled something in an article and said, "Another way of looking at it would be, how could you ever be wrong?

Jonathan Safran Foer

Dad, Track, Would Be

Jonathan Safran Foer (2013). “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close: A Novel”, p.9, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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I do not expect old heads on young shoulders.

C. S. Lewis

Young

C. S. Lewis (2009). “The Screwtape Letters”, p.21, Harper Collins

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Her (Mary's) Son first had to be the Child of the Father in order then to become man and be capable of taking up on his shoulders the burden of a guilty world.

Hans Urs von Balthasar

Children, Father, Son

Hans Urs von Balthasar (1991). “Unless You Become Like this Child”, p.74, Ignatius Press

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Touch. It is touch that is the deadliest enemy of chastity, loyalty, monogamy, gentility with its codes and conventions and restraints. By touch we are betrayed and betray others ... an accidental brushing of shoulders or touching of hands ... hands laid on shoulders in a gesture of comfort that lies like a thief, that takes, not gives, that wants, not offers, that awakes, not pacifies. When one flesh is waiting, there is electricity in the merest contact.

Wallace Stegner

Loyalty, Lying, Hands

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They had never been closer in their month of love, nor communicated more profoundly one with another, than when she brushed silent lips against his coat's shoulder or when he touched the end of her fingers, gently, as though she were asleep.

F. Scott Fitzgerald

Coats, Months, Lips

F. Scott Fitzgerald (2013). “The Great Gatsby”, p.117, Atlântico Press

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Naptime,ʺ said Christian, leading her toward the bed. ʺI still need a shower.ʺ ʺSleep first. Shower later.ʺ He pulled back the covers. ʺIʹll sleep with you.ʺ ʺSleep or sleep?ʺ she asked dryly, sliding gratefully into bed. ʺReal sleep. You need it.ʺ He crawled in beside her, spooning against her and resting his face on her shoulder. ʺOf course, afterward, if you want to conduct any official Council business...ʺ ʺI swear, if you say ‘Little Dragomirs,ʹ you can sleep in the hall.

Richelle Mead

Christian, Real, Sleep

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There is a kind of crying I hope you have not experienced, and it is not just crying about something terrible that has happened, but a crying for all of the terrible things that have happened, not just to you but to everyone you know and to everyone you don’t know and even the people you don’t want to know, a crying that cannot be diluted by a brave deed or a kind word, but only by someone holding you as your shoulders shake and your tears run down your face.

Daniel Handler

Running, People, Brave

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Clayton," she said softly, her voice threaded with tears, "when Vanessa asked about my accomplishments tonight, I forgot to mention that I do have one. And it's--it's so splendid that it compensates for my lack of all the others." Stephen and Clayton grinned at each other, neither of them hearing the emotion that clogged her voice. "What splendid accomplishments is that, little one?" Clayton asked. Her shoulders hunched forward and began to shake. "I made you love me," she whispered brokenly. "Somehow, some way, I actually made you love me.

Judith McNaught

Voice, Accomplishment, Tears

Judith McNaught (2000). “Whitney, My Love”, p.522, Simon and Schuster

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War is not for winning, Masha," sighed Koschei, reading the tracks of supply lines, of pincer strategies, over her shoulder. "It is for surviving.

Catherynne M. Valente

War, Reading, Winning

Catherynne M. Valente (2011). “Deathless”, p.93, Macmillan

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Won? He’s one of them! How exactly is that winning?” Michael shook his head, moved up behind her, and put his hands on her shoulders. He kissed the nape of her neck gently. “I don’t know, Eve. I’m just telling you what I heard. He got some kind of agreement out of the vampires. And it was because Amelie loved him.” “Yeah, loved him enough to kill him and turn him into a bloodsucking fiend,” Eve said grimly. “How sweet. Romance isn’t dead. Oh, wait. It is.

Rachel Caine

Sweet, Winning, Agreement

Rachel Caine (2007). “The Dead Girls' Dance: The Morganville Vampires”, p.146, Penguin

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He pulled my coat off my shoulders, looked at it with distaste, hung it on the back of one of the chairs pushed in under the kitchen table. "You are beautiful". No one had ever looked me in the eyes and said that. Eric to Sookie, Page 208.

Charlaine Harris

Beautiful, Eye, Kitchen

Charlaine Harris (2009). “Sookie Stackhouse 8-copy Boxed Set”, p.921, Penguin

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God wants us to be stronger than we are--more fixed in our purpose, more certain of our commitments, eventually needing less coddling from Him, showing more willingness to shoulder some of the burden of His heavy load. In short, He wants us to be more like He is and, if you haven't noticed, some of us are not like that yet.

Jeffrey R. Holland

Commitment, Stronger, Purpose

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He turned, throwing over hi shoulder, ”And if he growls at you, even once, he’s out. He looks wild.” I am, Riley snapped inside her head. Do not laugh, she thought to herself. Her dad paused at the door. “Where does it stay while you’re at school?” It. Nice. “Outside.” “You could be inviting flees into our home, Mary Ann.” No. Laughing. “He’s clean, Dad. I swear. But if I spot a single little bug, I’ll bathe him.” That could prove interesting, Riley said.

Gena Showalter

Dad, Nice, Home

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Had you been lying all along? Mum gently stroked my hair. I whispered into her shoulder. “I can’t go back. Not yet. I can’t leave.” And she held my head tight to her chest and wrapped her arms around me. “You don’t have to,” she said, rocking me. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, not anymore.” And I cried.

Lucy Christopher

Lying, Hair, Want

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I’ll carry you over my shoulder if I must, just as I did last night. If I’m forced to do it, however, I cannot guarantee you’ll make it out of this cell with your clothes on. Understand? ------ It appears I am the one who will not make it out of here with my clothes on.

Gena Showalter

Night, Cells, Clothes

Gena Showalter (2016). “The Darkest Night”, p.53, HQN Books

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He closed his eyes as she put her hand on his shoulder, and in that instant, nothing else mattered. Not the song, not the place, not the other couples around him. Only this, only her. He gave himself over to the feel of her body as it pressed against him, and they moved slowly in small circles on the sawdust-strewn floor, lost in a world that felt as though it had been created for just the two of them.

Nicholas Sparks

Song, Couple, Eye

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