Best 383 of Bones quotes - MyQuotes
The whisper of the blood and the pleading of the bone marrow.
I am a badass, and I recognize that you, too, are a badass.
It's easy to forget people are blood and bone. They're not indestructible.
They're not prosthetics. They're my bones. They come out when I’m inspired. They've always been inside of me, but I have been waiting for the right time to reveal to the universe who I truly am.
I originally worked as an archaeologist in North Carolina, and when bones were found police would take them out to the bones lady at the university, and that was me.
Sometimes you do absolutely know there's something there. You feel it in your bones. I actually literally feel it on my skin sometimes. I do get goosebumps. There are times when you go oh God, that works that moment! But you find you take it apart again.
I can pull a bone out of my shoulder and dislocate it
N. D. Wilson
Lay your life down. Your heartbeats cannot be hoarded. Your reservoir of breaths is draining away. You have hands, blister them while you can. You have bones, make them strain - they can carry nothing in the grave. You have lungs, let them spill with laughter.
I still skate occasionally but last time I did, at our show in Hanford, I did a 360 frontside varial over our rolled-up banner and broke every damn bone in my body. Ok, I only broke one bone. Well, I didn't break any bones, but I could have!
A plot is two dogs and one bone.
Galen cupped her cheek with his uninjured hand, his thumb caressing the rise of satin-covered bone. She trembled, but didn’t pull away.
Thus I got into my bones the essential structure of the ordinary British sentence, which is a noble thing.
With bones of ships and soldiers at her feet. With blood on her hands and nothing inside.
A people who are still, as it were, but in the gristle, and not yet hardened into the bone of manhood.
In early times, before the floods swept across the world, there was life, albeit odd, as one can see from the fossils of mammoth bones, and there was the regime of Prince Metternich.
Portia De Rossi
Shame weighs a lot more than flesh and bone.
I broke into shakespeare's tomb and stole his remains, grinded the bones, smoked it, then got in the game
If you have been in the vicinity of the sacred - ever brushed against the holy - you retain it more in your bones than in your head; and if you haven’t, no description of the experience will ever be satisfactory.
He had known the love that is fed on caresses and feeds them; but this passion that was closer than his bones was not to be superficially satisfied.
For me, there are a lot of things you can imagine as an actor, and then there are things that you know in your bones and in your cells once they happen to you.
What we get in steerage is not the refuse, but the sinew and bone of all the nations.
I just know there's an albino living in the colored quarters. I can feel it in my bones.
I stared at him in silence. There were so many things I wanted to say. Like, How could you think what I feel for you is only physical? or, Don't you know you're my best friend? and finally, Bones, I love-
We shall all be perfectly virtuous when there is no longer any flesh on our bones.
Even the presence of my kids cannot, during those writing hours, disturb me. Unless there's a bone sticking out of their arm, I'm not interested.
Of course Sasha chose that moment to open the door. "Cam? Oh. Shit. Sorry." Cam met Sasha's liquid gaze and forgot all about his friends at his knees. "Hey." "Hey, yourself." Sasha ventured farther into the room. "Is this a private party, or can anyone play?" "Depends," Sonny quipped from the floor. "Do you have lopsided balls? We're doing an in-depth analysis here.
Bones are patient. Bones never tire nor do they run away. When you come upon a man who has been dead many years, his bones will still be lying there, in place, content, patiently waiting, but his flesh will have gotten up and left him. Water is like flesh. Water will not stand still. It is always off to somewhere else; restless, talkative, and curious. Even water in a covered jar will disappear in time. Flesh is water. Stones are like bones. Satisfied. Patient. Dependable. Tell me, then, Alobar, in order to achieve immortality, should you emulate water or stone? Should you trust your flesh or your bones?
She was his soulmate, as much a part of him as the very flesh and bone that made him. She was with him, in him, in everything he did. She was everything he wanted from his life, the very measure of his dreams.
There I sat in the sun, watching half a dozen pairs and one slow but cheerful foursome pass by waving their mallets, thinking my old man's thoughts and letting the sun warm my old man's bones.
Death's a fierce meadowlark: but to die having made / Something more equal to the centuries / Than muscle and bone, is mostly to shed weakness.
Miguel De Cervantes
Many count their chickens before they are hatched; and where they expect bacon, meet with broken bones.
You have a visitors," Maximus stated. His face was impassive, but I still cringed, trying to discreetly tug my hand out of Vlad's. He let me go and folded his arms, smiling in that scary, pleasant way at Maximus. “And they are so important that you had to find me at once and enter without knocking?” I heard the threat behind those words and blanched. He wasn’t about to throw down on Maximus over this, was he? Don’t, I sent him, not adding the please only because I knew the word didn’t work on him. “Forgive me, but it’s Mencheres and his co-ruler,” Maximus stated, not sounding apologetic even though he bowed. “Their wives as well.” I started to slink away, sanity returning now that I wasn’t caught up by Vlad’s mesmerizing nearness. What had I been doing? Nothing smart, that was for sure. “Leila Stop,” Vlad said I kept heading for the door. “You have company, so I’ll just make myself scarce-“ “Stop” I did at his commanding tone, and then cursed. I wasn’t one of his employees-he had no right to order me around. “NO,” I said defiantly. “I’m sweaty, and bloody and I want to take a shower, so whatever you have to say, it can wait.” Maximus lost his impassive expression and looked at me as if I’d suddenly sprouted a second head. Vlad’s brow drew together and he opened his mouth, but before he could speak, laughter rang out from the hallway. “I simply must meet whoever has put you in your place so thoroughly, Tepesh,” an unfamiliar British voice stated. “Did I mention they were on their way down?” Maximus muttered before the gym door swung open and four people entered. The first was a short-haired brunet whose grin made me assume he was the one who’d greeted Vlad with the taunt. He was also handsome in a too-pretty way that made me think with less muscles, a wig, and some makeup he’d look great in a dress. Vlad’s scowl vanished into a smile as the brunet’s gaze swung in my direction as though he’d somehow heard that. “Looks as though she’s put you in your place as well, Bones,” Vlad drawled. “So it seems.” Bones replied, winking at me.” “But while I’ve worn many disguises, I draw the line at a dress.” My mouth dropped another mind reader?
I know that I'm very lucky to be alive. For 35 or 40 years I've spilt my blood and broke my bones and spent years in hospitals.
Osteoporosis is a disease that attacks the bones in your body. It happens to really almost everyone when they get really old. But for women, after menopause, they can lose up to 30 percent of their bone mass.
What I wanted to do was to fasten my index finger and thumb at the bolts of your collar bone, push out, spread the web of my hand until it caught against your throat. You asked me if I wanted to strangle you. No, I wanted to fit you, not just in the obvious ways but in so many indentations.
Artemis: I am not buoyed by that. Foaly: You are not supposed to be buoyed by that. You are supposed to be equalized. Mulch: I'm pretty sure that both of you just made really horrible jokes. But I'm not sure because I think you broke my funny bone.
I'm going to stop smoking. I'm not such a good smoker, anyway. It's not in my bones. I'm gonna drop it.
I wanted to turn pro at like 12 years old when I was riding for Bones Brigade.
i want the moon tattooed on my wrists my grandmother keeps asking me to pray, i don’t have the heart to tell her that my poems are the only God i have left in me my mother keeps leaving without saying goodbye i wish she’d let me cut my hair in the 7th grade, maybe i’d know how to deal with loss by now i told myself i’d stop kissing boys who didn’t know my name i said, i’d stop picking at my bones like broken decorations, i’d quit with the smoking and the drunken poems, and when i said things like “my bones are heavy” i would only mean it as a good thing heavy bones can’t be broken, you can’t break heavy bones
Live, die, something else lives. The very soil humanity walks upon is built up from death. Digging into a flowerbed means digging into bones.
I've heard it said that God is in the details. It's the same with the truth. Leave out the details, the crucial heart, and you can damn someone with the bare bones of it.
She was every inch the skeletal goddess that had been promised by the bones of her feet.
The road to love is littered by the bones of other ones, who by the magic of the moment were mysteriously undone.
If I am to be a skeleton in a box buried deep into the ground, I pray you will be the dust that rests atop my bones.
We definitely aren't very good at staying in one place. There's not a domesticated bone in my body.
I am a prosecutor in my bones. When I see something, I immediately go to: how is this going to affect a child?
I have a bone to pick with Fate
Everything I have become, everything I will ever accomplish cannot compare to my most impressive feat: I have loved you fiercely and assiduously with the very marrow inside my bones. So that when I die, they can crack them to find you there. So that when I die, they can open me up and see your name tattooed on the wall of my heart. So that when I die, my epitaph will neither commemorate who I was nor what I did, but will read: “She loved. And loved. And loved.” And so, I smile now, because that is no small thing.
Edwin Arlington Robinson
Are we no greater than the noise we make Along one blind atomic pilgrimage Whereon by crass chance billeted we go Because our brains and bones and cartilage Will have it so?
This planet has rejuvenated itself over and over again. Its species are just witnesses. [Earth] is going to reclaim itself once it tires of us. And all that will be left are the bones.