Best 72 quotes in «chase quotes» category

Don’t cluster tasks on your way. Some tasks would definitely have to be postponed to the next day. You can’t do all things in one day. You can’t chase two rabbits at the same time. Both will escape.

Don't chase people. Be you, do your own thing and work hard. The right people who belong in your life will come to you, and stay.

—El día que conocí a tu madre, sabía que estaría en mi vida para siempre. Había algo sobre ella y supe que me estaba enamorando ese primer día. Te hacía querer ser mejor, tratar de ser digno de su amor. Lamentablemente, tu padre pensaba lo mismo, nadie entendía por qué cambió drásticamente, excepto yo. A pesar de que ella estaba conmigo, dejó de beber, dejó de dormir con otras chicas, es como si lo hubiera hecho madurar al instante y convertido en el tipo que finalmente quería ser para que pudiera tener una oportunidad con ella. Siempre tuve miedo de perderla por él algún día, es como si me diera cuenta de que era una cuestión de cuándo, no de sí. Pero tu madre era diferente, yo había salido con muchas chicas, pero realmente no me importaba si estaban allí o no. Eran sólo alguien para tratar de llenar el dolor de perder a mi padre. Así que cuando me reuní con ella y se dio cuenta de mis sentimientos, luché por mantenerla tanto tiempo como pude. No se lo digas a tu mamá, pero Chase y yo constantemente peleábamos por ella cuando no estaba cerca. Infierno, incluso peleábamos por ella cuando estaba cerca. Sabíamos que cualquiera de nosotros podría tener a cualquier chica que quisiéramos, pero sólo queríamos a Harper. Así que, por supuesto, siendo nosotros, las palabras se utilizaron en puños y volaban cuando nos quedábamos solos. No le dije esto, pero ya sabía lo que había pasado con tu padre antes de que ella me lo dijera. Cuando llegué a casa de la rotura, y Chase no me molestó de nuevo, sabía que algo había pasado. Sólo no sabía qué todavía. Pero ¿sabes qué pequeño hombrecito? No puedo ni siquiera estar loco sobre eso más, porque si no hubiera pasado, no estarías aquí ahora. Besó suavemente a nuestro hijo de tres meses quien estaba completamente cautivado en sus historias y señaló la última foto en el libro. —Y él te amaba y a tu mamá, muchísimo. Siempre voy a recordarte eso, pero desearía que hubieras podido reunirte con él.

—Elígeme —susurré—. Porque, ¿mi corazón? ¿Mi alma? ¿Mi maldita existencia? Ya han hablado y te quieren, y únicamente a ti… para siempre." -Chase

Find her! When she runs, and she will run, you vow it. You will bury your will once the last stone has been overturned and not a moment before.

Great battles that prevail in actions had been won or lost earlier in thoughts. When the mind resists change, it’s in vain the legs chase it!

He's prowling back and forth like a lion with distemper now. There's a shiny streak down one side of his face. "I shouldn't have let her go ahead - I ought to be hung! Something's gone wrong. I can't stand this any more!" he says with a choked sound. "I'm starting now -" "But how are you -" "Spring for it and fire as I go if they try to stop me." And then as he barges out, the fat lady waddling solicitously after him, "Stay there; take it if she calls - tell her I'm on the way-" He plunges straight at the street-door from all the way back in the hall, like a fullback headed for a touchdown. That's the best way. Gun bedded in his pocket, but hand gripping it ready to let fly through lining and all. He slaps the door out of his way without slowing and skitters out along the building, head and shoulders defensively lowered. It *was* the taxi, you bet. No sound from it, at least not at this distance, just a thin bluish haze slowly spreading out around it that might be gas-fumes if its engine were turning; and at his end a long row of un-colored spurts - of dust and stone-splinters - following him along the wall of the flat he's tearing away from. Each succeeding one a half yard too far behind him, smacking into where he was a second ago. And they never catch up. ("Jane Brown's Body")

His booted feet pounded out an insane, frantic rhythm underneath him as he raced into the cavern across from Baba Yaga’s den at a dead sprint. Pieces of dragon dung flew off him and hit the ground behind him in miniature chunks. He didn’t dare look behind him to see if the dragon had risen from the ground yet, but the deafening hiss that assaulted his ears meant she’d woken up. Icy claws of fear squeezed his heart with every breath as he ran, relying on the night vision goggles, the glimpse he’d gotten of the map, and his own instincts to figure out where to go. Jack raced around one corner too sharply and slipped on a piece of dung, crashing hard on his right side. He gasped as it knocked the wind out of him and gritted his teeth, his mind screaming at him to get up and run, run, run. He pushed onto his knees, nursing what felt like bruised ribs and a sprained wrist, and then paled as an unmistakable sensation traveled up the arm he’d used to push himself up. Impact tremors. Boom. Boom. Boom, boom, boom. Baba Yaga was coming. Baba Yaga was hunting him. Jack forced himself up onto his feet again, stumbling backwards and fumbling for the tracker. He got it switched on to see an ominous blob approaching from the right. He’d gotten a good lead on her—maybe a few hundred yards—but he had no way of knowing if he’d eventually run into a dead end. He couldn’t hide down here forever. He needed to get topside to join the others so they could take her down. Jack blocked out the rising crescendo of Baba Yaga’s hissing and pictured the map again. A mile up to the right had a man-made exit that spilled back up to the forest. The only problem was that it was a long passage. If Baba Yaga followed, there was a good chance she could catch up and roast him like a marshmallow. He could try to lose her in the twists and turns of the cave system, but there was a good chance he’d get lost, and Baba Yaga’s superior senses meant it would only be a matter of time before she found him. It came back to the most basic survival tactics: run or hide. Jack switched off the tracker and stuck it in his pocket, his voice ragged and shaking, but solid. “You aren’t about to die in this forest, Jackson. Move your ass.” He barreled forward into the passageway to the right in the wake of Baba Yaga’s ominous, bubbling warning, barely suppressing a groan as a spike of pain lanced through his chest from his bruised ribs. The adrenaline would only hold for so long. He could make it about halfway there before it ran out. Cold sweat plastered the mask to his face and ran down into his eyes. The tunnel stretched onward forever before him. No sunlight in sight. Had he been wrong? Jack ripped off the hood and cold air slapped his face, making his eyes water. He held his hands out to make sure he wouldn’t bounce off one of the cavern walls and squinted up ahead as he turned the corner into the straightaway. There, faintly, he could see the pale glow of the exit. Gasping for air, he collapsed against one wall and tried to catch his breath before the final marathon. He had to have put some amount of distance between himself and the dragon by now. “Who knows?” Jack panted. “Maybe she got annoyed and turned around.” An earth-shattering roar rocked the very walls of the cavern. Jack paled. Boom, boom, boom, boom! Boom, boom, boom, boomboomboomboom— Mother of God. The dragon had broken into a run. Jack shoved himself away from the wall, lowered his head, and ran as fast as his legs would carry him.

His head dropped to watch his thumb move over my fingers as he muttered, “Naked, baby.” My head twitched at his weird word. “Pardon?” His eyes came to mine and he repeated, “Naked.” I felt my brows draw together and I asked, “Naked?” He held my gaze even as he moved...

I am flying blindly but sure to meet some day...wait for me!

I chase goals, not girls.

I grabbed her by the waist and swung her around to face me. As I bent, I closed my eyes … and kissed air as she ducked out of my grasp. I opened my eyes to see her dancing backward along the path. I made a noise in my throat. “Don’t growl,” she said. “Aren’t you always complaining that you don’t get enough exercise?” I lunged. She backed away. I let out another growl and crossed my arms. “Better watch out. I might decide the prize isn’t worth the effort.” She grinned, blue eyes dancing. “Oh, you know it is. And you know it’s never as sweet as when you have to work for it.” She wheeled and ran. As I went after her, adrenaline pumped through me, like liquid fire. There was nothing quite like a chase, and one that ended with this reward was the best chase of all.

I knew as long as I lived she'd haunt my dreams. That every night I'd chase her through that field of yellow flowers, but I'd never catch her, and she'd never look back.

In many a case, the phrase ‘I’d like to get to know you better’ is a euphemism for ‘I want us to fuck.

I spent the day running through the woods like a wild animal. Being chased by you is the only thing that would have made it more romantic.

I wish you; Courage to dream. Confidence to chase your dream. Commitment to eagerly achieve the dream.

Lovely, not only did the truck look like it was on its last leg, it was going to take the environment with it.

Love with pride is like chasing the pavement. There'll be a long chasing until it ends.

Marin believes love is better in the chase than caught,’ she says. He raises his eyebrows. ‘That does not surprise me. It is not better. But it is easier. One’s imagination is always more generous. And yet, the chase always tires you out in the end.

Nobody should have to put their boxers in a half rotted chest of drawers.” “Hey. I’ll have you know that the rustic look is very popular in the burbs.” “Rustic?” Chase snorted. “Is that your way of saying termite infested?” “This furniture does not have termites. Mice maybe, even moths, but not termites.” “Great, I can look forward to having a swiss cheese wardrobe.

Pursuit of happiness is a pursuit of mirage; you only realize its a delusion at the end of the road

Red Carpet Events:Sitting on the couch and watching people who actually chase their goals and dreams; criticizing what they’re wearing… and wondering why we’re depressed.

Emma convinced herself she'd lost him because she was fast. She was also adept at convincing herself of things that might not be - good at pretending. She could pretend she took classes at night by choice, and that blushing didn't make her thirsty-- A vicious growl sounded. Her eyes widened, but she didn't turn back, just sprinted across the field. She felt claws sink into her anckle a second before she was dragged to the muddy ground and thrown onto her back. A hand covered her mouth, though she'd been trained not to scream. "Never run from one such as me." Her attacker didn't sound human. "You will no' get away. And we like it." His voice was guttural like a beast's, breaking, yet his accent was... Scottish?

Go chase your dreams. Give it a try. And see how far you can go.

Happiness is like a butterfly; the more you chase it, the more it will elude you, but if you turn your attention to other things, it will come and sit comfortably on your shoulder.

He got up and ran on, pitching himself down the hill, flying through the branches of the firs, leaping roots and rocks without seeing them. As he went, the hill got steeper and steeper, until it was really like falling. He was going too fast and he knew when he came to a stop, it would involve crashing into something, and shattering pain. Only as he went on, picking up speed all the time, until with each leap he seemed to sail through yards of darkness, he felt a giddy surge of emotion, a sensation that might have been panic but felt strangely like exhilaration. He felt as if at any moment his feet might leave the ground and never come back down. He knew this forest, this darkness, this night. He knew his chances: not good. He knew what was after him. It had been after him all his life. He knew where he was - in a story about to unfold an ending. He knew better than anyone how these stories went, and if anyone could find their way out of these woods, it was him. ("Best New Horror")

How she loved it when he sprinted right over the lines and reduced her boundaries to smithereens. Chloe no longer had any fears of being controlled and Chase no longer held back to make sure he didn't push her too far. All that remained was the sweet ecstasy of trust. And pure love.

I like the chase, scavenging and how we unravel. Standing naked with all my pores at the door. Waiting for a response, a love, someone to call my home. Where my emotions graze the air and I’m lying half past gone.

It is in vain to chase two birds at the same time, even if you have a thousand legs.

It’s not classified information, Chace. You can read all about it on Wookieepedia.” His body started shaking again, as did his voice when he asked, “Wookieepedia?” “Stop making fun at me when I’m pissed,” I snapped. “Wookieepedia?” Chace repeated, his body now rocking, taking mine and the bed with it.

May you find the grace to chase your dream with all your might

Men spend their time in following a ball or a hare; it is the pleasure even of kings.

Never chase people. Be you and the right people who belong in your life and deserve a place in your heart will come, find and appreciate you!

Noah started this chase and I stood before him, waiting to be caught. He could have me, but he refused to move. Only now did I realize why. He wanted to be caught. He was waiting for me to chase him.

She could hear the rattle of hooves on stone evolve into a thunder of pursuit.

Sheesh two-legs. You keep screechin' like that, you mind's well tell all 'em Banshee "I'm here, eat me - I bring salt

So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half asleep, even when they're busy doing things they think are important. This is because they're chasing the wrong things. The way you get meaning into your life is to devote yourself to loving others, to your community around you, to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning.

The chase and the cheap thrills don't last long.

Some people will hate you for not loving them.

Stop chasing another busy self to become. Your real self is idle waiting to be lived... Go, take up your real self!

That night, it wasn’t Dobie Gray,” I whispered. “It was this song. It was Ella Mae singing this to me when I thought you weren’t all I knew you to be, which is all the words to this song. Twenty-nine years, I held out for this. Then, half an hour later, you proved every one of these words true and every moment since then, you kept doing it. I’ll take you thinking I’m your angel but you need to know you’re my hero. Twenty-nine, honey, I held out for this. Twenty-nine years, I held out for you.

Some people like bees, always can get out and always can start chasing you.

The chase of the whirlwind is vanity.

The longer you chase the wrong person, the further you travel in the wrong direction. You're better than that.

The frenzies of the chase had by this time worked them bubblingly up, like old wine worked anew. Whatever pale fears and forebodings some of them might have felt before; these were not only now kept out of sight through the growing awe of Ahab, but they were broken up, and on all sides routed, as timid prairie hares that scatter before the bounding bison. The hand of Fate had snatched all their souls; and by the stirring perils of the previous day; the rack of the past night's suspense; the fixed, unfearing, blind, reckless way in which their wild craft went plunging towards its flying mark; by all these things, their hearts were bowled along. The wind that made great bellies of their sails, and rushed the vessel on by arms invisible as irresistible; this seemed the symbol of that unseen agency which so enslaved them to the race. They were one man, not thirty. For as the one ship that held them all; though it was put together of all contrasting things — oak, and maple, and pine wood; iron, and pitch, and hemp — yet all these ran into each other in the one concrete hull, which shot on its way, both balanced and directed by the long central keel; even so, all the individualities of the crew, this man's valor, that man's fear; guilt and guiltiness, all varieties were welded into oneness, and were all directed to that fatal goal which Ahab their one lord and keel did point to. The rigging lived. The mast-heads, like the tops of tall palms, were outspreadingly tufted with arms and legs. Clinging to a spar with one hand, some reached forth the other with impatient wavings; others, shading their eyes from the vivid sunlight, sat far out on the rocking yards; all the spars in full bearing of mortals, ready and ripe for their fate. Ah! how they still strove through that infinite blueness to seek out the thing that might destroy them!

The world carried on before we arrived. We make our entrance, adapt to our surroundings and join the chase to nowhere. We depart without fulfilment. The world carries on.

There is nothing encouraging about fortune and thus one must remain indifferent by it for it is a trickster desperate to be chased, chased till the very end, only to show us how miserable her path is and how inappropriate it was to choose her over effort.

Then the bandit turned tail and broke for the open. Greeley hit the sidewalk only seconds after him, big as he was and with a panic-stricken woman to detour around. A slice of hindmost heel was all he saw of the man. The store entrance adjoined a corner; that gave the fugitive a few added seconds of shelter, and as Greeley flashed around it in turn, again the breaks were the lawbreaker's. There was a school midway up the street toward the next avenue. It was a couple of minutes past three now, and a torrent of young humanity came pouring out of the building by every staircase and exit, flooding the street. In through them the sprinting man plunged, knocking over right and left the ones that didn't get out of his way quickly enough. If it had been hazardous to take a shot at him in the store, it would have been criminal out here. The kids parted, screaming in delighted excitement, as Greeley tore through them after the bandit with uptilted gun, but he couldn't just callously knock them flat like the man before him had. He sidestepped, got out of their way as often as they did his, and he began to fall behind the other, lose ground. The kids weren't just on that one street - they had dispersed over the entire vicinity by now, for a radius of a block or more in every direction, in frisky, milling, homeward-bound groups. Through them the quarry zigzagged, pulling slowly but surely away. He kept going in a straight line, because it was to his advantage to do so - the presence of these kids made for greater safety - but he was already far enough in the lead so that when he should finally decide to turn off - the answer was pretty obvious; a taxi or a doorway or a basement. Any of them would do. ("Detective William Brown")

The remaining chain swung down, he wrenched the door out and he was free. The last thing he heard behind him was the oncoming stomp of running feet. Now began flight, that excruciating accompaniment to both the sleep-dream and the drug-dream as well. Down endless flights of stairs that seemed to have increased decimally since he had come up them so many days before. Four, fourteen, forty - there seemed no end to them, no bottom. Round and round he went, hand slapping at the worn guard-rail only at the turns to keep from bulleting head-on into the wall each time. The clamor had come out onto a landing high above him now, endless miles above him; a thin voice came shouting down the stair-well, "There he is! See him down there?" raising the hue and cry to the rest of the pack. Footsteps started cannonading down after him, like avenging thunder from on high. They only added wings to his effortless, almost cascading waterlike flight. Like a drunk, he was incapable of hurting himself. At one turning he went off his feet and rippled down the whole succeeding flight of stair-ribs like a wriggling snake. Then he got up again and plunged ahead, without consciousness of pain or smart. The whole staircase-structure seemed to hitch crazily from side to side with the velocity of his descent, but it was really he that was hitching. But behind him the oncoming thunder kept gaining. Then suddenly, after they'd kept on for hours, the stairs suddenly ended, he'd reached bottom at last. He tore out through a square of blackness at the end of the entrance-hall, and the kindly night received him, took him to itself - along with countless other things that stalk and kill and are dangerous if crossed. He had no knowledge of where he was; if he'd ever had, he'd lost it long ago. The drums of pursuit were still beating a rolling tattoo inside the tenement. He chose a direction at random, fled down the deserted street, the wand of light from a wan street-lamp flicking him in passing, so fast did he scurry by beneath it.

To Live In The Original Intention Of God Is To Chase Self Destruction Away