Best 19526 quotes in «book quotes» category

Sometimes he wondered if he did these things just to test himself. To see if the feelings had gone. But they had not. When he saw her, he wanted to be with her; when he was with her, he ached to touch her; when he touched even her hand, he wanted to embrace her. He wanted to feel her against him the way he had in the attic. He wanted to know the taste of her skin and the smell of her hair. He wanted to make her laugh. He wanted to sit and listen to her talk about books until his ears fell off. But all these things he could not want, because they were things he could not have, and wanting what you could not have led to misery and madness.

Sometimes I have a good idea, something I wish I could remember, and instead of writing it down, commit it to my memory only to disappear when I needed it. Write your ideas as they come, if you wait it will be too long and you may not recover it. It may get destroyed as it is to seed to and fro in the ever rushing river of our thoughts

Sometimes I look at you and I just can't believe you're mine

sometimes it is when we feel the most helpless, and the most alone, that we are actually the closest to knowing our true nature.

Sometimes I travel just to be overwhelmed – for it’s good every now and then to be overwhelmed.

Sometimes, it’s hard to talk about what you think of the most.

Sometimes the best way is to get out of your own way.

Sometimes we make being happy so difficult. And being thankful such a chore.

Sometimes we make being happy so difficult.And being thankful such a chore. Starting the day like a job we hate. Beginning it like swallowing ten tablespoons of devil made cough syrup. Because, somehow, along the way, we forget that being alive and healthy and happy are noble goals – or just good ideas.And that the opposite of being alive is being dead. What a choice.

Sometimes you have to let go a little bit and travel the path of least resistance but this doesn’t mean that you quit when things get tough, as you are working towards a goal! It just means that you may only be able to see a rough draft of your final destination, right now, and that it’s safe to explore along the way.

Sometimes you read a book so special that you want to carry it around with you for months after you've finished just to stay near it.

Sometimes your dream is so special that... you can't kill it. You can't die even if you try. Life will find a way to fulfill it, and a way to keep you alive. Because the Earth needs dreamers to survive.

Somewhere embedded in every ordinary book are the five or six words for which really all the rest will be written.

Somewhere between 'not enough' and 'not at all.' I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it - to be fed so much love I couldn't take any more. Just once. But they never gave that to me. Never, not once.

Some writers may never create a work. Their purpose is to help others create their first word.

Some writers write to forget. Some forget to write.

So natural and universal is a child's curiosity about sex and so long are we conscious of it before we do it, that our original impressions of it leave an indelible mark.

So young and yet already carrying a great burden on her shoulders. Do not worry, my dear, I will make sure you can protect yourself and others. Because you are our hope … sweet, darling … Arima.

So, you think that some other government made her?” He asked perplexed, “Russia? China? Wait, don't tell me, Japan. They're always a few years ahead of us.

Spiritual assets make us more resilient to the trauma and difficult experiences life inevitably throws at us. Since spiritual assets bring us closer to our Higher Power, we do not face the difficulties alone, and we may find a greater purpose and meaning within the stress & trauma. When we lean on our spiritual assets to get us through, the traumatic event becomes less destructive. Instead, it becomes transformative; we see the difficulties in a new light.

Stalked He stalks her waiting for the right time, a single purpose stirring within his mind. His soul longs for that one deep connation, as his body seeks its final redemption. For he is the hunter and she his prey, her power untouched waiting for the moment to be set free on that final day. One sweet tasted form his lips as death he willed her way.

Stanley forced a smile to his lips at the memory of the onesided romance; it was silly, after all, a stupid childhood crush. Who’d fall in love with a fictional character? That was the kind of thing you laughed about as an adult. Or at least Harriet had thought so. He couldn’t quite do it, though. Couldn’t quite see it as a joke. It had felt too real, too raw and wild and fierce, for him to dismiss it even now. It was love, of a sort, stunted and unformed as it was. For a time, it had kept him sane.

Starting the day - Another chance to be new again. How many of us still wish for that? To be your own sunrise. To awaken like a prayer - both solemn and joyful at still being alive.

Stay gold Ponyboy. Stay gold. --Johnny quoting Robert Frost

Step inside your favorite storybook and become lost in a journey only your imagination can envision.

Still. Four words. And I didn’t realize it until a couple of days ago, when someone wrote in to my blog: Dear Neil, If you could choose a quote - either by you or another author - to be inscribed on the wall of a public library children’s area, what would it be? Thanks! Lynn I pondered a bit. I’d said a lot about books and kids’ reading over the years, and other people had said things pithier and wiser than I ever could. And then it hit me, and this is what I wrote: I’m not sure I’d put a quote up, if it was me, and I had a library wall to deface. I think I’d just remind people of the power of stories, and why they exist in the first place. I’d put up the four words that anyone telling a story wants to hear. The ones that show that it’s working, and that pages will be turned: “… and then w

Sulphurous wind gusted in his wake; the dust of the street swirled and the folds of his black coat flapped against his thin body.

Stop treating your mouth as if it's your truth's emergency exit.

Summer, dropping so easily a delicious everything upon your skin and lips. Like a never-ending kiss—taunting, deep, and luscious. The sun. The heat. The thousand echoes of a timelessness before time, when every day seems longer than the next and no day seems likely to ever truly end. Summer.

Sunrise - a time when all truths are still clean and enviable.

Still, when I think of early friendships, I think not of people but of books. Books were my friends, and more often than not, the characters in the books were my imaginary friends, who stepped out of the pages and walked wth me to school or sat in bed with me, talking when I was meant to be asleep. What I mean is reading was my friends. And also I mean that I learned about friendship - patience, slowness, listening, care - from reading and from reading about friendship between people.

Stories are the currency of life. The richer the stories the richer the life.

Structure your thought pattern to what you want to achieve and who you want to become.

Summer, dropping so easily a delicious everything upon your skin and lips. Like a never-ending kiss - taunting, deep, and luscious.

Take and remember the best part of a book like the best part of life!

Take a look and pick up a book, you never know what you might just find.

Take me to your darkest corners and watch your demons surrender to mine..

Take off my clothes and there becomes a man. Take off my skin and there becomes my bones. Break all my bones and there becomes my heart. Smash my heart and there becomes my soul. And that you cannot take. And what is my soul?...It is everything that make a man. It is everything that makes this man.

Tallis had persevered through and unshakable feeling of not truly belonging... She understood the responsibility her family constraints put upon her, and while Lana knew Tallis's heart trembled and raged at the perceived indignity of it all, she had grown up into a charming, beautiful woman with shoulders that refused to bow to a world that demanded they should.

Tallis is a beautiful and terrible thing. Fearsome and alluring. Just like the forest in many ways... but it's written all over that handsome, pale face of yours; you like her.

Talk to me. Say something, anything," he pleaded quietly as if he was trying to tame a wild animal. "There's nothing to say." He looked up and lowered his eyebrows on his eyes. "Why did you kiss me?

Taut, intelligent, and intense suspense that is deeply human.”—Mark Greaney, New York Times Bestselling Author of Gunmetal Gray “Exciting and well-layered....David Bell is a master storyteller with a sure hand at crafting characters you feel for and stories you relish.”—Allen Eskens, USA Today Bestselling Author of The Life We Bury “A tense and twisty suspense novel about the dark secrets that lie buried within a community and a father who can save his daughter only by uncovering them. Will leave parents wondering just how well they truly know their children.”—Hester Young, author of The Gates of Evangeline and The Shimmering Road “A gripping, immersive tour-de-force full of twists and turns. BRING HER HOME kept me flipping the pages late into the night. Don’t expect to sleep until you’ve finished reading this book. I could not put it down!”—A. J. Banner, bestselling author of The Good Neighbor and The Twilight Wife “In David Bell’s riveting BRING HER HOME, the unthinkable is only the beginning. From there, the story races through stunning twists all the way to its revelation, without letting its heart fall away in the action. Intense, emotional, and deeply satisfying. This one will keep you up late into the night. Don't miss it!”—Jamie Mason, author of Three Graves Full and Monday’s Lie “Spellbinding and pulse-raising, BRING HER HOME hooked me from the first sentence and surprised me until the final pages. Sharply written and richly observed, this book is about the secrets we keep, the mysteries that keep us, and the lengths a father will go to for the daughter he loves. David Bell is a masterful storyteller who has perfected the art of suspense in BRING HER HOME.”—Sarah Domet, author of The Guineveres

Teach them what you love to do in life. It really doesn't matter what it is. It never does. Just show them how important a passion is . . .

Technically, you cannot really own a book you bought; you can only own the sheets of paper your copy is printed on; unless, of course, you are the book’s publisher.

Teddy bears are best because they understand it's nice to be alone.

Tessa: Are all vampires like that? Cold like that? Charlotte: Many of them have been alive a long time. They don't see things the way we do.

That's the most important thing. If I keep reading, maybe I can hold my own.

That's the problem with best friends. Sometimes they know you better than you know yourself.

That’s what our country needs – more books and far more readers.

That's the trouble with loving a wild thing: You're always left watching the door. But you also get kind of used to it.