Warm Quotes - Page 14

• It's not what I'd want for at my funeral. When I die, I just want them to plant me somewhere warm. And then when the pretty women walk over my grave I would grab their ankles, like in that movie.

  Neil Gaiman

  Funeral, Pretty Woman, Ankles

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• But today when I am 17 and warm and well fed, I'm keeping this journal for myself so I can always remember life as we knew it, life as we know it, for a time when I am no longer in the sunroom.

  Susan Beth Pfeffer

  Today, Remember, Feds

  Susan Beth Pfeffer (2015). “The Life As We Knew It Collection”, p.278, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Witches, wolves, and moral friend There is horror that does not end War is waged and battles fought But have you stopped to count the cost? We are the ones backed by right We must strike with bold and might The cursed ones blamless be Warm them of the Hunters you see

  Nancy Holder

  War, Battle, Doe

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• Through wind, and tempest, storm, and rain; The calm shall be buried inside of me; A warm stone, heavy and dry; The root, the source, a weapon against pain

  Lauren Oliver

  Pain, Rain, Wind

  Lauren Oliver (2015). “Delirium Trilogy: Delirium, Pandemonium, Requiem”, p.434, Hachette UK

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• Every man has a weakness," he patiently explained. "I'll find theirs, I promise you." "Every man?" "Yes," he answered emphatically. His hand moved to the back of her neck. Twisting her curls around his fist, he jerked her head back. His face loomed over hers, his breath warm and sweet as he stared down into her eyes. "What is your weakness, Brodick?" she asked. "You.

  Julie Garwood

  Sweet, Eye, Men

  Julie Garwood (2010). “Ransom”, p.233, Simon and Schuster

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• Rain Soft rain, summer rain Whispers from bushes, whispers from trees. Oh, how lovely and full of blessing To dream and be satisfied. I was so long in the outer brightness, I am not used to this upheaval: Being at home in my own soul, Never to be led elsewhere. I want nothing, I long for nothing, I hum gently the sounds of childhood, And I reach home astounded In the warm beauty of dreams. Heart, how torn you are, How blessed to plow down blindly, To think nothing, to know nothing, Only to breathe, only to feel.

  Hermann Hesse

  Summer, Dream, Blessed

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• but the real enemy is the cold. It steals up on you quieter than Will, and at first you shiver and your teeth chatter and you stamp your feet and dream of mulled wine and nice hot fires. It burns, it does. Nothing burns like the cold. But only for a while. Then it gets inside you and starts to fill you up, and after a while you don't have the strength to fight it. It's easier just to sit down ot go to sleep. They say you don't feel any pain toward the end. First you go weak and drowsy, and everything starts to fade, and then it's like sinking into a sea of warm milk. Peaceful, like.

  George R. R. Martin

  Dream, Pain, Real

  George R. R. Martin (2011). “A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle: A Song of Ice and Fire Series: A Game of Thrones, A Clash of Kings, A Storm of Swords, and A Feast for Crows”, p.16, Bantam

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• This creature softened my heart of stone. She died and with her died my last warm feelings for humanity.

  Joseph Stalin

  Heart, Feelings, Humanity

  "Young Stalin" by Simon Sebag Montefiore, (p. 193), 2007.

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• I wished God were like He used to be, a few notches lower. I wanted Him to be lofty enough to help me but not so uncontrollable. I longed for His warm presence, times when He seemed more… safe.

  Joni Eareckson Tada

  Safe, Helping, Enough

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• Round and round the questions flew, until finally I found myself standing at the open door of a bookshop. It’s natural in times of great perplexity, I think, to seek out the familiar, and the high shelves and long rows of neatly lined-up spines were immensely reassuring. Amid the smell of ink and binding, the dusty motes in beams of strained sunlight, the embrace of warm, tranquil air, I felt that I could breathe more easily.

  Kate Morton

  Thinking, Smell, Air

  Kate Morton (2011). “The Distant Hours: A Novel”, p.24, Simon and Schuster

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• What does kiciciyapi mitawa mean?" He kept his head on her breasts. "What?" "You called me kicicyapi mitawa. It sounded so beautiful. It wasn't Japanese. What was it?" "It's the voice of the Lakota. It would sound silly in English." He cupped her breast, his fingers moving lightly over her skin. His breath warm on her heart. "I want to know. It didn't sound silly when you said it. It sounded...beautiful. It made me feel beautiful. And loved." He kissed her breast. "I called you my heart. And you are.

  Christine Feehan

  Beautiful, Silly, Moving

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• it is hard to believe when I’m with you that there can be anything as still as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it in the warm New York 4 o’clock light we are drifting back and forth between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles

  Frank O'Hara

  New York, Believe, Light

  Frank O'Hara (1965). “Love Poems (tentative Title)”

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• Oh boy. His chest was smooth and warm and hard as stone, and she wanted to both touch and nibble. And lick. Could she pretty please lick?

  Jill Shalvis

  Boys, Stones, Smooth

  Jill Shalvis (2009). “Double Play”, p.42, Penguin

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• As a child, I was aware that, at night, infrared vision would reveal monsters hiding in the bedroom closet only if they were warm-blooded. But everybody knows that your average bedroom monster is reptilian and cold-blooded.

  Neil deGrasse Tyson

  Children, Night, Average

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• Is this seat taken?" a warm sexy drawl asked and I lifted my gaze and smiled up at Dank. "Yes. I'm saving it for my smoking hot boyfriend," I replied teasingly. Dank slid in beside me and put his arm around my shoulder. "Hmmm, well he should have gotten here sooner. You snooze, you lose.

  Abbi Glines

  Sexy, Taken, Should Have

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• Sometimes when I'm alone I Cry, Cause I am on my own. The tears I cry are bitter and warm. They flow with life but take no form I Cry because my heart is torn. I find it difficult to carry on. If I had an ear to confide in, I would cry among my treasured friend, but who do you know that stops that long, to help another carry on. The world moves fast and it would rather pass by. Then to stop and see what makes one cry, so painful and sad. And sometimes... I Cry and no one cares about why.

  Tupac Shakur

  Moving, Heart, Long

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• A man's character is like his house. If he tears boards off his house and burns them to keep himself warm and comfortable, his house soon becomes a ruin. If he tells lies to be able to do the things he shouldn't do but wants to, his character will soon become a ruin. A man with a ruined character is a shame on the face of the earth.

  Ralph Moody

  Lying, Character, Men

  Ralph Moody (1991). “Little Britches: Father and I Were Ranchers”, p.41, U of Nebraska Press

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• We laughed a lot and I grew warmer still, lovely and warm. I do realize that some of that warmth was due to the wine, but there was much more to it than that. There are two distinct aspects to Communion wine: one aspect is the wine itself, the other is the idea of communion. Wine is certainly warming, but communion is a great deal more so.

  Franny Billingsley

  Wine, Ideas, Two

  Franny Billingsley (2013). “Chime”, p.168, A&C Black

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• Let me tell you something about wolves, child. When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. In winter, we must protect one another, keep each other warm, share our strengths. So if you must hate, Arya, hate those who would truly do us harm.

  George R. R. Martin

  Children, Hate, Fall

  George R. R. Martin (2003). “A Game of Thrones: A Song of Ice and Fire: Book One”, p.230, Bantam

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• No. Take the heart first. Then you don't feel the cold so much. The pain so much. With the heart gone, there's no reason to stay your hand. Your eyes can look on death and not tremble. It's the heart that betrays us, makes us weep, makes us bury our friends when we should be marching ahead. It's the heart that sickens us at night and makes us hate who we are. It's the heart that sings old songs and brings memories of warm days.

  Jeanette Winterson

  Life, Song, Pain

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• Everything about her was warm and soft and scented; even the stains of her grief became her as raindrops do the beaten rose.

  Edith Wharton

  Grief, Rose, Raindrops

  Edith Wharton (2013). “House of Mirth and the Age of Innocence”, p.155, Simon and Schuster

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• I get a warm feeling among my books.

  Anthony Powell

  Book, Feelings

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• He smiles sadly. "Now I know my destiny." "What is it?" "This." He draws me in to him in a kiss. His lips are warm. He pulls me tighter in his embrace. The roots sigh and release their hold on my waist and the wound in my side is healed. "Kartik," I cry, kissing his cheeks. "It's let me go." "That's good," he says. He makes a small cry. His back arches, and every muscle in his body tightens.

  Libba Bray

  Kissing, Destiny, Roots

  Libba Bray (2009). “The Sweet Far Thing”, p.498, Simon and Schuster

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• I really wish you hadn't worn that sweater,'he muttered into her ear. 'It's good practice for you,' she replied,her lips moving against his skin. 'Tomorrow,fishnets.' Against her side,warm and familiar,she felt him laugh.

  Cassandra Clare

  Moving, Practice, Sweaters

  Cassandra Clare (2014). “City of Lost Souls”, p.532, Simon and Schuster

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• The ultimate source of happiness is not money and power, but warm-heartedness

  Dalai Lama

  Inspirational, Nuclear, Source

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