Best 73 quotes in «sam quotes» category

And remember your promise,” said Sam, wagging a finger at him. “Don’t follow us.” The man glared at him but kept silent.... “What?” asked Sam, slightly confused by his good humour. “I can’t believe you said that.” “What?” “You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry. Do you think you’re the hulk or something?” He laughed again. Sam found himself smiling although he was just telling the man the truth. He wouldn’t like him when he was angry. No-one did.

A Power sidled into the diner. Say what you will about them, but they know how to make an entrance. An inky shadow wrapped in a lashing rain of ash and sleet, it rode on 144,000 constantly flickering legs of forked lightning. This particular jasper’s proper name was the basso profundo thrum of dark matter winging through the void, the fizz of neutrinos boiling off a moribund blue supergiant, and the bitter-tangerine taste of a quadrillion-dimension symmetry group. But I called it Sam for short.

Are you following me?" He asked. "Us?" I was the first to speak. "Um, maybe. Hi there. How are you tonight?" He looked at me like I might be a bit crazy.

Be careful, Hally." "Of what? The truth? I seem to be the only one around here who is prepared to face it.

But hope, I can tell you, is an exhausting emotion; perhaps, along with fear, the most exhausting of all. It is like juggling eggs: the hope is the shell, and inside is despair. A single crack and the despair might spill everywhere, stain everything.

Cowok memang harus begitu, peka dengan situasi kalau ada cewek kesusahan.

Charlie?' 'Uh-huh?' 'Do you like me?' 'Uh-huh.' 'You know what I mean?' 'Uh-huh.' 'Are you nervous?' 'Uh-huh.' 'Don't be nervous.' 'Okay.

But I knew very well how the persona you chose to present to the world could be very different from what was inside. I knew how grief could make you behave in ways you couldn’t even begin to understand.

Don't stick that on me until we know for a fact that you have the same power Acheron does to keep cooties off that stuff

Don’t expect the answers overnight. This isn’t a fortune cookie. - The Duke to Delaine; discussing dating after divorce, Chapter 9

For as long as I've known him, Sam has been trying to out-run his demons. But he can't see the truth. His problems - they never sleep, never take a break. They'll wear him down before he can wear them out.

Even if they were able to change everything about that night, he and Glory had made enough mistakes together to learn that some of the darkest deeds in history accidentally handed victory to goodness. And when he had randomly doled out preemptive justice to villains before their villainy occurred, trying to make every past moment a paradise, he could accidentally tip the scales the wrong way. Retribution was for the end of time, and final justice was well beyond both his wisdom and authority.

Forever?" Sam's lips smiled, but above his grin, his yellow eyes turned sad, as if he knew it was a lie. "Longer.

If you're putting that energy into performance," he said, "you're also getting it back out again, right? You're giving so you can receive." He spread his arms wide. "If you were writing songs with it, you'd be holed up in your room in the middle of the night, scribbling them in a notebook and feeling self-important. You'd think you were getting it out, but really you'd be keeping it inside and quiet. You'd take what upset you and turn it into art, and now it would fester, because you think other people ought to share your outrage at what happened to you.

He felt something trickle down his face and he wiped it away irritably. When he looked at the back of his hand, he found trails of red. He had never cried in his life; in fact, he could not cry with no tear ducts. But now, at last, he was. He was crying tears of blood. For her.

He isn't so bad." "You're not fake-married to him.

He was every angel and every devil.

How had he survived? And then he looked deep into her eyes and he saw the truth there. He hadn't. He hadn't survived.

I feel like I've been through a lot in the past couple of years, But I've kept pretty stable. That's because I channel that emotion into performance. I can handle emotion as long as it's only a song. It works for me, and I don't want to change it. I don't have anything left for writing.

He envied straight couples the easy openness of their relationships. At that moment, he would've given anything to know what it was like to take his lover's hand without a second's consideration for what anyone else might think, or do.

He's so empty. They tried to stitch him back together, but too much already fell out. Stars and buttons and caramel truffles.

How many beers do y'all think it takes before one internationally scientist turns to another and says, 'Dude, bet you twenty bucks I can levitate a frog with a magnet?' ' Sam drawled.

How was he meant to find the Antichrist? Just walk down the street and say ‘Hello. Excuse me, but could you please point me in the direction of the son of the Devil? I want to kill him.’ It all seemed rather far-fetched.

I got the groceries and lugged them all the way to Akinli’s dorm, running slightly behind because I couldn’t get into the building on my own. The university required ID cards to get into the dorms after six, and since I wasn’t an actual student, I had to wait for someone else to come along and scan his so I could piggyback in. “You need some help?” the boy asked, his eyes lingering on my mouth. I shook my head no. “Aww, come on. That’s way too heavy for you.” He came closer, and again I cursed our natural appeal. I wasn’t in danger exactly, and I knew that, but it didn’t make these encounters any less uncomfortable. I shook my head again. “No, really, which floor are you on? I can—” “Hey, Kahlen!” I looked up to see Akinli walking down the hall. His button-up was open over the gray shirt beneath it, but I was thrilled to see that he’d at least put one on. “I was starting to worry. Hey, Sam.” “Hey.” The boy gave Akinli a look and headed toward the stairwell, his displeasure at Akinli’s arrival clear. In the meantime, I felt my mood lift significantly. I was now officially on my first date.

I glide under a sky so blue, so purple, so golden I fight as hard as anything to keep my eyes open, because I want to remember it forever, however long that lasts. Because I know it'll be the last thing I see.

I saw her face then, and I recognized something of myself in her expression. Her eyes flicked over the shelves, seeking possibilities for escape.

I like doing things that make me uncomfortable. I try not to have a comfort zone

I saw you fight last night. You sure have got some fancy moves with those swords of yours. Haven’t seen anyone move like that, well, ever, and I was in the Special Forces.

I’ve always had a lifelong interest in spirit. I was an 8-year-old boy – an 8-year-old adorable little boy. I just understood my grandfather had a ‘knowingness.’ I didn’t know the word psychic then.” (during interview with Sam Liebowitz on the Conscious Consultant Hour)

I steady him, he steadies me, the chain that binds us, the chain that sets us free. —Ben Parish.

So, I guess you'll be moving on, then?" she said. "Got thing to do? Places to be?" Daniel winced. Corey lifted his brows. Rafe only sputtered a laugh. "Well, at least you didn't say you're sorry to see me alive.

I still watch her now, like I always did, and she watches me, her brown eyes looking out from a wolf's face. This is the story of a boy who used to be a wolf, and a girl who became one. I won't let this be my last good-bye. I've folded one thousand paper cranes of me and Grace, and I've made my wish. I will find a cure. And then I will find Grace.

Of course Mason and Logan followed me where I went.

Long after the other voices had dropped away, Sam kept howling, very soft and slow. When he finally fell silent, the night felt dead. Sitting was intolerable. I stood up, paced, clenched and unclenched my hands into fists. Finally I took the guitar that Sam had played and I screamed and smashed it into pieces on Dad's desk.

Looking at Sam was fine but it was the tasting I enjoyed most. Like the dew that watered fresh blossoms, Sam’s lips moved and left their mark against my heated skin. His scent of body wash and manliness– too inviting– left a delicious taste behind leaving me to desire the more I know I’ll never get.

Maybe you can get on my shoulders?” said Sam doubtfully. “And risk you dropping me in the middle of the rat ocean? Fat chance.

Max flashed me a flirtatious smile. “Why don’t you come and join us, me and you could -” “Don’t even finish that sentence, Slap-head.” “Hey, I told you, call me Max.” “While you’re being a wanker, you’re Slap-head.

Maybe the guy loves a good bitch - but you're treading a thin line between attractively bitchy and psycho.

My friend lost his mother when we were at college. I spent a lot of nights talking with him. Lot of nights." He pauses. "I know what it's like. You don't just get over it. And it doesn't make any difference if you're supposedly a "grown-up". And it never goes away,

Need some help?' he asked. 'Yes!' I yelled at him 'Help us!' 'What's the magic word?' 'Now!' 'Close enough.

No matter what happens, I want that piece of music to live. When people hear it, I want them to think about what we tried to do, regardless of whether we succeed. And I want them to know that without you, Ana Incarnate, whatever Janna had planned would have just happened without opposition. You opened our eyes. I want that legacy to continue.

(Sam) "We need to focus and having Maya moon over Rafe us making everyone uncomfortable." Rafe grinned. "Doesn't bother me." "Because your ego really needs the encouragement."

Sam said nothing about it, as though he spontaneously composed music with nature all the time.

Sam was staring at Claire with about the same amazement as his brother had shown. Claire didn’t seem to realize it, or else she was too preoccupied to think of it, but she was the second thunderbolt that had fallen on this long-hidebound household in as many days. First one of the hated race of doctors had been shoehorned in on them as the only thing that might get them out of an already nightmarish situation, and now this matter-of-fact slip of a girl had pushed into it of her own accord. They must have felt like the world was coming down around their ears.

Rachel had been worried she couldn't remember what Sam looked like; now she worried he wouldn't recognize her.

Sam shakes his head, still marveling at the hulking warship. "So they have a secret weakness right? Like how you can shoot that one spot on the Death Star and the whole thing blows up?" Adam's brow furrows. "What's a Death Star?" Sam throws up his hands. "We're screwed.

She whistled when she noticed my back. I assume because of my injuries. I mean, my ass just isn't that spectacular.

She crashed. I think she was literally high on sugar. Seriously I thought she was going to start free basing pixy stix.

Stained-glass windows glowed faintly in the moonlight streaming through, illuminating the sculpture of Christ on the cross that hung above the altar. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Then the sculpture seemed to move, and Christ’s body twisted on the cross to look directly at him. ...Jesus, the son of God and his saviour, seemed be smiling at him.

So it comes to this: I would have lost her either way. If Cole hadn't reinfected her, I would have lost her in the hospital bed. And now Cole's wolf tozin pumps through her veins, and I lose her to the woods, like I lose everything I love. So here is me, and I am a boy watched--by her parents' suspicious eyes, since they cannot prove that I kidnapped Grace but believe nonetheless--and I am a boy watchful--because Tom Culpeper's bitterness is growing palpable in this tiny town and I will NOT bury Grace's body--and I am a boy waiting--for the heat and the fruitfulness of summer, waiting to see who will walk out of those woods for me. Waiting for my lovely summer girl.