A Quotes
Browse famous quotes beginning with A. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.
“And he could not tell why the struggle was worthwhile, why he had determined to use the utmost himself and his heritage from the personalities he had passed... He stretched out his arms to the crystalline, radiant sky. I know myself," he cried, "But that is all.”
“And he could not watch Sharzad burn with him.
He would burn alone---again and again---before he would ever watcher such a thing.”
Source: The Rose & the Dagger
“And he'd agreed with her about all of it, except he hadn't agreed really; he'd just lost the arguments.”
Source: About a Boy
“And he’d expected her to feel like heaven, plus nirvana, plus that scene in Willy Wonka where Charlie starts to fly.”
Source: Eleanor & Park
“And he'd railed at her, his voice booming so loud the bed had seem to shake. "You canna do this - take my goddamned heart and then leave me! You think I will no' follow?"
She knew he was constantly there, was aware of his movement and comprehended his words, but she couldn't seem to open her heavy eyelids or speak.
At night, he would wrap his body around hers, keeping her warm, whispering against her hair, "You enjoy being contrary. Then prove them all wrong and get better." He'd clutched her hip, then balled his fist there.”
Source: If You Deceive
“And he departed from our sight that we might return to our hearts and find him there. For he left us, and behold, he is here.”
“And he did see--that life was rotten, that there were no heroes, really, and that you couldn't trust anybody, not even yourself.”
Source: The Chocolate War
“And he didn't like love, the way it made him feel stupid and vulnerable. If he ever married, he'd choose someone incapable of swaying his heart. Someone he hated, even, so they could never manipulate him the way Lucy Gray had. Never make him feel jealous. Or weak.”
Source: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes
“And he didn't really know where he was going, but he did know he was going somewhere, because you really have to go somewhere, don't you?”
Source: Uncle Shelby's story of Lafcadio, the lion who shot back
“And he don't know...that I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped up 4 wheel drive, carved my name into his leather seats. I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights, slashed a hole in all 4 tires...Maybe, next time he'll think before he cheats.”
“And he dreaded prison more than anything, not because survival in the gourbis was any
better, but because nothing would be more humiliating than being labeled a criminal. He had inherited a sense of honour that gave him – he, the poorest of the poor – the pride of a blind man and the humility of a prince.”
Source: Outspoken: My Fight for Freedom and Human Rights in Afghanistan
“And he dreamed the dream of all those who publish books, which was to have so much gold in your pockets that you would have to employ two people just to hold your trousers up.”
“And he enjoyed listening to Caramon's gossip. Raistlin enjoyed proving to his own satisfaction that his fellow mortals were fools and idiots, while Caramon took immense pleasure in bringing a smile - albeit a sardonic smile - to his twin's lips.”
Source: Brothers in Arms
“And he felt himself oppressed by this creation of factitious purity, so cunningly manufactured by a conspiracy of mothers and aunts and grandmothers and long-dead ancestresses, because it was supposed to be what he wanted, what he had a right to, in order that he might exercise his lordly pleasure in smashing it like an image made of snow.”
Source: Delphi Works of Edith Wharton (Illustrated)
“And he felt it.
Rogal Dorn had been feeling it for days, weeks, building up, up, up, rising over him like a black fog, dragging at his limbs, clogging his mind, making him question every decision he made, every order he gave.
He hadn’t had any respite at all, of any kind, for three months. Three months! His sharpness was going now, his reactions were slower. A billion functionaries depending on him for everything, reaching out to him, suffocating him with their endless demands, pleas for help, for guidance. A billion eyes, on him, all the time.
And he’d fought, too. He’d fought. He’d fought primarchs, brothers he’d once thought of as equals or betters. He’d seen the hatred in Perturabo’s eyes, the mania in Fulgrim’s, stabbing at him, poisoning him. Every duel, every brief foray into combat, had chipped a bit more off, had weakened the foundations a little further. Fulgrim had been the worst. His brother’s old form, so pleasing to the eye, had gone, replaced by bodily corruption so deep he scarcely had the words for it. That degradation repulsed him almost more than anything else. It showed just how far you could fall, if you lost your footing in reality completely.
You couldn’t show that repulsion. You couldn’t betray the doubt, or give away the fatigue. You couldn’t give away so much as a flicker of weakness, or the game was up, so Dorn’s face remained just as it always had been – static, flinty, curt. He kept his shoulders back, spine straight. He hid the fevers that raged behind his eyes, the bone-deep weariness that throbbed through every muscle, all for show, all to give those who looked up to him something to cling on to, to believe in. The Emperor, his father, was gone, silent, locked in His own unimaginable agonies, and so everything else had crashed onto his shoulders. The weight of the entire species, all their frailties and imperfections, wrapped tight around his mouth and throat and nostrils, choking him, drowning him, making him want to cry out loud, to cower away from it, something he would never do, could never do, and so he remained where he was, caught between the infinite weight of Horus’ malice and the infinite demands of the Emperor’s will, and it would break him, he knew, break him open like the walls themselves, which were about to break now too, despite all he had done, but had it been enough, yes it had, no it could not have been, they would break, they must not break…
He clenched his fist, curling the fingers up tight. His mind was racing again. He was on the edge, slipping into a fugue state, the paralysis he dreaded. It came from within. It came from without. Something – something – was making the entire structure around him panic, weaken, fail in resolve. He was not immune. He was the pinnacle – when the base was corrupted, he, too, eventually, would shatter.”
Source: Warhawk
“And he felt too old to learn English. Without that, he lived with the constancy of incomprehension. In the post office last month he had mimed and pointed to a square white box, the woman in her blue shirt repeating and repeating and he did not know and everyone in the post office knew and finally a man came to him and crossed his arms quickly toward the floor, saying, “Fini!” And so Abdikarim thought the post office was finished with him and he must go and he did go. Later he found out the post office was out of the boxes they had sitting on the shelf with price tags on them. Why did they show them if they did not have them to sell? Again, the incomprehension. He came to understand this had a danger altogether different from the dangers in the camp. Living in a world where constantly one turned and touched incomprehension—they did not comprehend, he did not comprehend—gave the air the lift of uncertainty and this seemed to wear away something in him, always he felt unsure of what he wanted, what he thought, even what he felt.”
Source: The Burgess Boys
“And he found himself thinking that maybe stories don't just make us matter to each other - maybe they're also the only way to the infinite mattering he'd been after for so long.”
Source: An Abundance of Katherines
“And he fucks with such greedy relish--- sucking at my skin, thrusting into me with deep grunts of pleasure--- that I feel adored.
But in the end, he rolls onto his back, taking me with him. Stretching his arms overhead, he grasps the headboard. "Ride me, Delilah. Take what you need."
All that power laid out before me. The high crests of his cheeks are flushed. Sweat trickles down his temples. Every inch of him is hard and tight with lust. I sink down onto his cock, and we both groan. I take my pleasure, luxuriating in his body. I don't let up until he's groaning and crying out my name.
We come together, falling into each other, wrecked.
Nothing will ever be the same again.”
Source: Dear Enemy
“And he gave it for his opinion, "that whoever could make two ears of corn, or two blades of grass, to grow upon a spot of ground where only one grew before, would deserve better of mankind, and do more essential service to his country, than the whole race of politicians put together.”
“And he glanced down at Mercy beside him, and saw in her face such radiant goodness, such a calm certainty, that it seemed to him that if he could only be with her all his life, he should know a love, and happiness, and peace that he had never known before.”
Source: New York
“And he goes round with a fat roll of dollar bills, and got this nice farm, and all them fancy machines, and man let his family starve.’ - Louisa Mae Cardinal”
Source: Wish You Well
“and he goes slowly to the wall behind the painting and sees its title;
WILLEM LISTENING TO JUDE TELL A STORY, GREENE STREET
...and he feels his breath abandon him”
Source: A Little Life
“And he goes through life, his mouth open, and his mind closed.”
“And he had a nice home in Ohio with wife, daughter, Christmas tree, two cars, garage, lawn, lawnmower, but he couldn't enjoy any of it because he really wasn't free. It was sadly true.”
Source: Road Novels 1957-1960
“And he had a theory about fear. It was all about regret. If you make what you want out of life and don't bullshit yourself about your choices, then there are no regrets, and a man without regret isn't afraid of anything.”
Source: The Inquisitor
“And he had been very badly treated by a girl too. He had thought her a really civilised and adult personality, and then she had unexpectedly revealed that she was a mass of bourgeois prejudices and monogamic instincts.”
Source: The Great Divorce
“And he had promised Theo that he would live. Promised. Promised something he never gave. It was broken, a lie told by fear of regret.
Then again, what promise wasn’t?”
Source: Dreaming of Hiraeth
“And he had this theory. He had a theory that everything we do is because our subconscious is trying to make us happy.”
Source: The Prom Kiss
“And he had this theory. He had a theory that everything we do is because our subconscious is trying to make us happy.”
Anyway, the theory is that even when we make bad choices or seemingly inexplicable decisions, it's because something inside us thinks it'll either make us happy or feel safe.”
Source: The Prom Kiss
“And he had to say farewell to his hands, his eyes, to hunger and thirst, to love, to playing the lute, to sleeping and waking, to everything. Tomorrow a bird would fly through the air and Goldmund would no longer see it, a girl would sing in a window and he would not hear her song, the river would run and the dark fish would swim silently, the wind would blow and sweep the yellow leaves on the ground, the sun would shine and stars would blink in the sky, young men would go dancing, the first snow would lie on the distant mountains—everything would go on, trees would cast their shadows, people would look gay or sad out of their living eyes, dogs would bark, cows would low in the barns of villages, and all of it without Goldmund.”
Source: Narcissus and Goldmund
“And he has a Poet,but you are unlucky to hear that Pensive song.”
“And he has guns and dogs that would make the Hound of Baskervilles seem like a bleeding Pekinese.”
Source: Deliver Us From Evil
“And he hated himself and hated her,too, for the ruin they'd made of each other.”
Source: The Given Day: A Novel
“And he, he himself...the Grinch...carved the roast-beast!”
Source: How the Grinch Stole Christmas!
“And he howled in agony, in a pain that would never cease as long as he lived. His tortured voice echoed in those mountains for a long long time...”
“and he imagines cars
and rides them in his dreams,
so lonely growing up among
the imaginary automobiles
and dead souls of Tarrytown
to create
out of his own imagination
the beauty of his wild
forebears - a mythology
he cannot inherit.”
“And he is an owl
He is an owl, "Man" tattooed in his armpit
Under the broken wing
(Stunned by the wall of glare, he fell here)
Under the broken wing of huge shadow that twitches across the floor.
He is a man in hopeless feathers.”
Source: Wodwo
“And he is bewildered and beatific and so pretty, prettier than a hundred roses or a thousand stars, and it strikes me there is no one like him and there never will be. Not now, not if I live to be a hundred.”
Source: Our Tiny, Useless Hearts
“And he is not at an age right for renunciation; he has not even entered the stage of the householder, as befits a well educated man; he has not therefore paid back his dues to the gods and to his ancestral spirits and to his fellowmen. Bound by these dues where can he go now? He has no experience at all of women and consequently of samsara. He has not therefore attained any of the purusharthas of life, namely dharma, artha and kama. He has not even rendered personal service to his parents to ensure their comfort. He has not helped his loving relations, nor endowed his dear friends with wealth, nor honoured the wise. He has not shared his wealth with his dependants nor fulfilled the desires of those begging for favours.
"He has not founded his lineage by begetting sons and grandsons. Nor has he performed any great sacrificial rituals. He has not given generous gifts nor fulfilled his obligations of hospitality. He has not done his duty by this world. He has not adorned the earth with dams, wells and water distributing centres, with palaces, ponds and groves. Above all he has not still spread his fame far and wide which alone would live on till the end of the world.”
Source: Kadambari
“And he is oft the wisest manWho is not wise at all.”
Source: The Poems of William Wordsworth
“And he isn't crying for her, not for his grandma, he's crying for himself: that he: too, is going to die one day. And before that his friends wil die, and the friends of his friends, and, as time passes, the children of his friends, and, if his fate is truly bitter, his own children. (58)”
Source: Great House
“And he keeps listening to seas
that love nothing but themselves.
But maybe now he listens to nothing,
stalled in forgetfulness and salt.”
Source: Madwomen: Poems of Gabriela Mistral
“And he kissed her. Slow, hot and oh so heavy. It wasn’t a kiss of love or romance. It wasn’t probing or questioning. It was simple; conquer. He kissed her like it was all he wanted. He kissed her like it was all that she needed and in that moment it was.”
Source: The Cherry On Top
“And he kissed me . . . slow. Agonizingly, maddeningly, painfully slow.
I loved kissing. I also loved what it usually led to, but I was especially loving this part with Leo. The beginning, when everything is new and exciting, and everything in the entire world boils down to sweet feathering lips and quiet sighs. When the stars fade and the earth ceases to turn, its axis forgotten in the wake of things like: which way will you lean and which way will my neck naturally turn, and is it possible that I can actually detect your fingerprints, because my skin seems so alive right now and my nose just brushed yours and the tiny groan that just rumbled from deep in your chest is the most erotic sound imaginable, and gee your hair smells terrific”
Source: Nuts
“And he kissed me there, in the stolen moments of a Wednesday evening, in a restaurant that felt like his soul, and his kiss tasted sharp and sweet, like the beginning of something new. I smiled against his mouth, and I whispered, "And here I thought you'd find romance in a piece of chocolate.”
Source: Diary of a Street Diva
“And he knew, also, what the old man was thinking as his tears flowed, and he, Rieux, thought it too: that a loveless world is a dead world, and always there comes an hour when one is weary of prisons, of one's work, and of devotion to duty, and all one craves for is a loved face, the warmth and wonder of a loving heart.”
Source: The Plague
“And he knew at that moment that love world never die, that it would never fade away altogether. The time might come when he would meet and marry someone else. He might even be reasonably happy. But there would always be a deep precious place in his heart that belonged to his first real love.”
“And he knew he would not be travelling home. If he had to wear a donkey jacket and wait for fifty years, then he would wait. At last there was a place in the world where he had reason to be, a place that had meaning. For days, without realising it, he had sensed this meaning everywhere, in the streets, houses, ruins and temples of Rome. It could not be said of the feeling that it was 'filled with pleasurable expectation'. Rome and its millennia were not by nature associated with happiness, and what Mihály anticipated from the future was not what is usually conjured up by 'pleasurable expectation'. He was awaiting his fate, the logical, appropriately Roman, ending.”
Source: Journey by Moonlight
“And he knew that at that moment, they understood each other perfectly, and when he told her what he was going to do now, she would not say ‘be careful’ or ‘don’t do it’, but she would accept his decision because she would not have expected anything less of him.”
“And he knew that he would never come again, and that lost magic would not come again. Lost now was all of it - the street, the heat, King's Highway, and Tom the Piper's son, all mixed in with the vast and drowsy murmur of the Fair, and with the sense of absence in the afternoon, and the house that waited, and the child that dreamed.”
Source: The Lost Boy