A Quotes
Browse famous quotes beginning with A. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.
“As he looked into her eyes, his heart recognized her importance. His sudden intake of breath made her demeanor change quickly, and her smile turned predatory and wild. It was clear she intended to toy with him and he sensed that with her, he'd be playing with fire.”
“As he looked out and saw the grey landscape through the gently falling snow, he could not help thinking how much better it would be if people could go to sleep like the fields; could be blanketed down under the snow, to wake with their hurts healed and their defeats forgotten.”
Source: One of Ours
“As he looked up at the clouds or down at the precipice, he realized that this woman was the most important thing in his life; that she was the explanation, the sole reason for the existence of those rocks, that sky, that winter. If she were not there with him, it wouldn't matter if all the angels of heaven came flying down to comfort him--Paradise would make no sense.”
“As he loves us, he would have us love others. We say men are not worthy of such friendships. True, they are not. Neither are we worthy of Christ's wondrous love for us. But Christ loves us-not according to our worthiness-but according to the riches of his own loving heart! So should it be with our giving of friendship-not as the person deserves-but after the measure of our own character.”
“As he made his way back to his home on the Dijver, along the canals, beside the calm waters, Borluut felt his regret, his remorse at having divulged his worries grow at the sight of the noble swans, sealed-in snow, which, prisoners of the canals, prey to the rain, the sadness of the bells, the shadow of the gables, have the modesty to remain silent and only complain, with a voice that is almost human, when they are about to die...”
Source: The Bells of Bruges
“As he moves through his day, sometimes he stops and just stares at me. There is something on the tip of his tongue. But he doesn't say it. I'm not sure he knows what it is.”
Source: The Day After He Left for Iraq: A Story of Love, Family, and Reunion
“As he mused about these things, he realized that he had to choose between thinking of himself as the poor victim of a thief and as an adventurer in quest of his treasure.”
Source: The Alchemist - 10th Anniversary Edition
“As he mused on the possibilities he became aware of the odor of cigarette smoke. And the sound of muted sobs... As she tried to stifle her anguish, what came out of her was utterly mournful, the saddest thing Luke had ever heard. He wanted to scramble out of the tree house, climb back into his room, and shut the window. But he was afraid to move. She would hear him.
So he just sat there, hearing the agony of thousands of failed days bleed out of Nell. He put his hands over his ears and closed his eyes. he didn't want to hear her sobbing, didn't want to acknowledge she felt pain - nor that he knew she'd lived through more pain than anyone else he'd ever known. That maybe she had sent Norah and Kieran away because she knew Eleanor's home had to be happier than hers. He didn't want to acknowledge that. He wouldn't be able to hate her then.”
Source: In All Deep Places
“As he neared the house, he saw Albert bounding out of the woods, followed by Beatrix's slender form. She was returning from Ramsay House. A strong gust of wind blew against her wine-colored cloak, causing it to flap wildly, and her hat flew from her head. She laughed as the dog went to chase it. Seeing Christopher approach on the road, she waved at him.
He was nearly overcome with relief. The panic eased. The darkness began to recede. Thank you, God. Beatrix was there, and safe. She belonged to him, she was beautiful and vibrant, and he would spend his life taking care of her. Whatever she desired of him, whatever words or memories she asked for, he would give. It almost seemed easy now- the force of his love would make anything easy.”
Source: Love in the Afternoon
“As he once wrote of Kipling, his own enduring influence can be measured by a number of terms and phrases—doublethink, thought police, 'Some animals are more equal than others'—that he embedded in our language and in our minds. In Orwell's own mind there was an inextricable connection between language and truth, a conviction that by using plain and unambiguous words one could forbid oneself the comfort of certain falsehoods and delusions. Every time you hear a piece of psychobabble or propaganda—'people's princess,' say, or 'collateral damage,' or 'peace initiative'—it is good to have a well-thumbed collection of his essays nearby. His main enemy in discourse was euphemism, just as his main enemy in practice was the abuse of power, and (more important) the slavish willingness of people to submit to it.”
“As he paid the hansom and followed his wife's long train into the house he took refuge in the comforting platitude that the first six months were always the most difficult in marriage. 'After that I suppose we shall have pretty nearly finished rubbing off each other’s angles,' he reflected; but the worst of it was that May's pressure was already bearing on the very angles whose sharpness he most wanted to keep”
Source: The Age of Innocence
“As he passed me, he leaned to Curran and handed him a paper fan folded from some sort of flyer. Curran looked at the fan. “What?” "An emergency precaution, Your Majesty. In case the lady faints.” Curran just stared at him. Raphael strode toward the Pit, turned, flexed a bit, and winked at me. "Give me that,” I told Curran. “I need to fan myself.” "No, you don’t.”
Source: Magic Strikes
“As he patiently observed her every move, from the flickering movement of her hair to the twinkle in her blue eyes, he privately thought to himself, that after years of waiting for a shooting star, he had finally stumbled upon a star of his very own in her; all the while, learning what his version of heaven looked like, here on earth.”
Source: The Ambassador's Wife
“As he poured carefully, Arrow's head turned toward the sound. The horse made a low grumbling noise in his throat. "Hold your horses," he said. The he laughed. It seemed absurd to say tat to a horse.”
“As he prepared to ride on, he chuckled at the thought of the wolf entering the sheepfold. He would not ride with fire and destruction. The shepherd did not frighten his own pretty lambs.”
Source: Khan: Empire of Silver
“As he ran warm fingers down her arm she felt the cold nothingness as if he was already gone.”
Source: From Saigon, With Love
“As he reached the door of the chapel and turned back for a last look, he saw that the Virgin too was sad and lonely; the most alone human being God ever put on earth.”
Source: the Agony and the Ecstasy
“As he reached the river, Oswald suddenly felt as if he were walking around in a painting. Then it dawned on him. Everywhere he looked was a painting! Everything was alive with color: the water, the sky, the boathouses that lined the river with red tin roofs, silver tin roofs, and rusted orange tin roofs. Red boat in a yellow boathouse. Green, pink, blue, tan, yellow, and white boathouses. The wooden pilings sticking out of the water were a thousand different shades of gray and each individual piling was encrusted with hundreds of chalk-white barnacles and black woodpecker holes. Even the grain of the wood and the knots on each post differed from inch to inch and pole to pole.”
Source: A Redbird Christmas
“As he read the long poem, I began thinking that, unlike him, I had always found a way to avoid counting the days. We were leaving in three days—and then whatever I had with Oliver was destined to go up in thin air. We had talked about meeting in the States, and we had talked of writing and speaking by phone—but the whole thing had a mysteriously surreal quality kept intentionally opaque by both of us—not because we wanted to allow events to catch us unprepared so that we might blame circumstances and not ourselves, but because by not planning to keep things alive, we were avoiding the prospect that they might ever die. We had come to Rome in the same spirit of avoidance: Rome was a final bash before school and travel took us away, just a way of putting things off and extending the party long past closing time. Perhaps, without thinking, we had taken more than a brief vacation; we were eloping together with return-trip tickets to separate destinations.”
Source: Call Me by Your Name
“As he read, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.”
Source: The Fault in Our Stars
“As he rose to go and held Louise's hand and gazed at her he felt for a moment his old love for her taking possession of his whole being. They looked at each other. I feed upon this looking, thought Clement, but does she? I don't know, and I cannot ask. I am terrified of saying something which would wound our whole precious relationship. We are well as we are. I love her, that's all, that is my drama.”
Source: The Green Knight
“As he rounded the corner, he saw two dozen men, naked to the waist, digging a hole thirty yards square at the side of the path. For a moment he was baffled. It seemed to have no agricultural purpose; there was no more planting or ploughing to be done. Then he realized what it was. They were digging a mass grave. He thought of shouting an order to about turn or at least to avert their eyes, but they were almost on it, and some of them had already seen their burial place. The songs died on their lips and the air was reclaimed by the birds.”
“As he's commandeering the mussels, I race around wildly to gather the ingredients: kaffir leaves and limes, coconut milk, coconut sugar, galanga, lemongrass, spicy red peppers, straw mushrooms, garlic, green onions, ginger, and coriander.
When he returns, he clears his throat and his hand snakes over the ingredients. "I know what you're up to. I spent a lot of time in Thailand, having lived there. Your recipe is based off of tom kha gai, but instead of chicken you're using mussels”
Source: The Spice Master at Bistro Exotique
“As he sanded the old boards for his bookcases, and saw the surface roughnesses disappear, the gray weathering flake away to the essential wood and finally to a rich purity of grain and texture— as he repaired his furniture and arranged it in the room, it was himself that he was slowly shaping, it was himself that he was putting into a kind of order, it was himself that he was making possible.”
“As he sat up, he heard soft dripping sounds from the bathroom, little plips like water slipping over the edges of the tub and into the floor. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he realized where he‟d last heard that sound. His muscles tight with strain from his earlier exertions, he stood and walked warily toward the half open bathroom door and the tub beyond it. Slipping quietly past the door, he saw that the curtain was drawn, and again the shadowed figure lay behind it. One long, slim, leg dangled from the end of the tub, beads of water gliding down its length and off the polished toes. At the other end he saw a mass of auburn curls, matted deep red near the porcelain of the tub. It was the dream and the vision again, more real now, too strong to deny. Shaking, he moved toward the curtain, gagging on the sickly smell of rust and roses, feeling the thin nylon glide between thumb and palm as he pulled it back to reveal his darkest nightmare and deepest regret. He could see the crimson water now, blood bubbles gliding over its surface and clinging to the legs dangling over the tub‟s edge. When he‟d pulled the curtain completely away from the tub and around to its opposite side, he saw her face. Her eyes were closed and he saw that her lids were bruised and purple against the translucent paleness of her face, drained completely dead white under the makeup she‟d brushed on before she‟d died. Staggering by the sight of her, he knelt by the tub and extended one shaking hand to touch her cheek. It all seemed as if he‟d walked into a horror film and once again he needed to prove to his mind that this wasn‟t real. His hand shook as he lifted it nearer to her flesh, waiting for the corpse, the supposedly dead and buried to move. He touched his quivering fingers to her face, feeling its claylike reality. The sensation caused an immediate shudder of revulsion and he fought not to vomit. Even as the moment came, the sight of her moving in the water startled him and he jumped away from the tub. It wasn‟t an obvious movement at first, only soft breaths moving in and out of her nostrils, but then her chest rose and fell with it and he quaked, feeling unstable where he knelt on the floor.
Her eyes opened next and he felt the blood fall out of his face, wanting to scream but too afraid he would cause her to take some action, to reach out and touch him, proving well and forever that he was indeed insane. Scream and you might as well slit your own throat. He swallowed the scream like a rock and stared as her eyes moved slowly in their sockets, locking on him. Slowly, as if she‟d lost control of her muscles, she rose from the tub and looked down at him, smiling. Blood water slid down her bare body, over her neck, down her back and the smooth ridges of her breasts, to slip slowly down her thighs and down over her calves. A puddle spread on the floor, and as it extended toward him he struggled to his feet, skittering away from it. As he watched it spread, he shivered, weak as he started to cry frantic, horrified tears. Breaking down, he looked back up at her face and slipped to the floor once more, his knees incapable of sustaining his own weight. The smile grew wider as she strode to his shivering form, thrown on his side and struggling to rise. The blood water seeped into his clothes, making him sick, a drop of it trickling along the lobe of his ear and into it. And then she leaned down, holding those dim, stained curls of auburn out of her face and tucking them behind her ear. Her lips parted, blue beneath the strong crimson red of her lipstick, and she spoke into his ear with the chill breath of the dead. His eyes grew wide and horrified as she spoke, the hair on his neck rising, sending a maddening shiver of fear through him. “I‟ve returned, Raven.” She whispered “And I want what is mine.” The last thing he saw before his mind, finally, thankfully, shut down was her face in front of his. They were pursed for a kiss.”
“As he satin the tree he looked down at the girl in the floral dress and felt his heart miss a beat.”
Source: Afterlife
“As he seemed to be losing control, Hope licked the palm of her left hand, slid it into his already unbuttoned pants, and reached for his soul.”
Source: The Illusions of Hope
“As he shook off his servant’s grip and staggered heavily to his feet, the sunlight streaming through the outside door struck him full in the face.
Samantha gasped.
A fresh scar, still red and angry, bisected the corner of his left eye and descended down his cheek in a jagged lightning bolt, drawing the skin around it taut. It had once been an angel’s face with the sort of masculine beauty reserved only for princes and seraphim.”
Source: Yours until dawn
“As he [Sir Malcolm Sargeant, conductor of the London Philharmonic] stood in waist deep in the shallows of Whaler's Cove, the littler spinners came drifting over, sleek and dainty, gazing at him curiously with their soft dark eyes. Malcolm was a tactful, graceful man in his movements, and so the spinners were not afraid of him. In moments, he had them all pressing around him, swimming into his arms, and begging him to swim away with them. He looked up, suffused with delight, and remarked to me, 'It's like finding out there really are fairies at the bottom of the garden!”
Source: Lads Before the Wind: Diary of a Dolphin Trainer
“As he slid his palm over the top of her mound, she arched toward him so he could feel just how excited she was.
"Nina..." He breathed. "You are so fucking wet."
"You made me so fucking wet," she panted back.
The situation didn't seem real--- not him, not the strength of his hands, not the way her body melted like butter on a skillet for him. Because this couldn't be happening with Leo. But it was.
In one smooth motion, he lifted her leg and wrapped it over his shoulder. The angle opened her up to him, and he breathed out and across her bare thighs as he made his way to her center. He started by parting her with his fingers and flicking her clit with his tongue. Her head fell back and against the wall. She'd never been eaten out while standing, but being able to watch Leo from above was undeniably sexy. He began to lick her clit, gently circling with his tongue and applying more pressure whenever he found the tip of her bud.
Her leg tightened against his back in response, but he kept her firmly planted with his heavy palm against her hip. Then his tongue dipped down and delved into her, filling her entirely.
He spread her open with his free hand and nestled one, then two of his long fingers inside of her, dipping them in and out as he circled her clit with his tongue. He sucked her into his mouth, then lapped at her as softly as the tip of a finger stroking her. She rode his face, moving against the rhythm of his fingers as they fucked her.
"Please..." She was barely able to get the word out. Her legs began to tremble. The one wrapped around Leo tightened, then released as the pressure continued to build. She raked her hands through his hair, urging his mouth to bring her to the point where she had to erupt... and she did. She let out a series of moans as pleasure surged through her, her core throbbing as Leo held her in place until she'd finished.”
Source: For Butter or Worse
“as he soars from the precipice edge,
dreamy.”
Source: Stag's Leap (Pulitzer Prize Winner): Poems
“As he speaks, his eyes slither warily from one of us to another, reminding me of the Time Warner executives I once lunched with years ago, who seemed poised at all times between arrogance and deference, nervously calculating which to project. A line from a Robert Lowell poem comes to mind: “a savage servility/slides by on grease.”
Source: Bait and Switch: The (Futile) Pursuit of the American Dream
“As he spoke, I had the mental image of a small boy switching on the nightlight, not because he wants to be able to find his parents during the night, but because he fears his parents will forget him - lose him - in the dark.”
Source: The Examined Life: How We Lose and Find Ourselves
“As he spoke these words, a giant wave, just like the one in Katsushika Hokusai’s, “The Great Wave off Kanagawa,” rippled in below the lofty ledge.
Chaiya saw a thousand images in a second.
“Brothers!” he shouted.
“Brothers! Brothers! Brothers!…”
His voice echoed and vibrated through their hearts.
They were all wide awake.
“The presence in the cave will swallow us up,” Chaiya thought.”
Source: The Cave
“As he squeezed, Marcos verbalized Angela's fears as if that were his new art form, peppering her with spiny one-liners she could not unhear.”
Source: Shark Heart
“As he stared back, he altered...as if a shield slid away fro his eyes, revealing a scorching force of will that sucked the air from my lungs. The intense magnetism he exuded grew in strength, becoming a near tangible impression of vibrant and unrelenting power.”
Source: The Crossfire Series Books 1-3 by Sylvia Day
“As he stared into the ocean, he must have tossed a lifetime of apologies into its silence. Maybe he thought the tide would wash his troubles away.”
Source: Then Again
“As he started down towards his office, Brunetti thought about how taking a look at one’s unconscious motives and prejudices was like walking barefoot through cloudy water: you never knew whether you were going to step on something disgusting or bang your toe into a rock.”
Source: Unto Us a Son Is Given
“As he started making a pot of coffee he glanced out his kitchen window and into his neighbor’s window and froze. He had the perfect view of his new neighbor. She was beautiful. Scratch that. The word didn’t even come close to describing her.
She didn’t seem very tall, though it was hard to measure. Her dark wavy hair cascaded down over her shoulders, reaching just below her breasts. Very full breasts. Definitely enough to fill his palms. And the tight tank top she was wearing left very little to the imagination. It was obvious she’d just woken up as she rubbed a hand over her face and reached for the coffee pot. Look away, he ordered himself.
But he was rooted to the spot.”
Source: Danger Next Door
“As he stepped forward, it dawned on her that this was a bad idea. If he wanted to talk she should meet him downstairs. After all, he was very male. And she was very naked. And they were now... yup, shut in a bedroom together.
Good planning. Excellent work. Maybe she should jump out a window next.”
Source: Lover Revealed
“As he stepped into the sunlight, he heard the seals barking loudly. They must have an audience. Slick glory seekers. Whiskered prima donnas.”
Source: Backteria and Other Improbable Tales
“As he stood at the edge of the forest, his nostrils were suddenly assaulted by an indescribable stench. The smell was like nothing he had ever encountered before—as if the air itself had been tainted by rot and decay. It reminded him of the times he had accidentally left meat out in the sun for too long, except a hundred times worse. His eyes began to water, and his stomach churned with nausea. He doubled over, gripping his stomach tightly as his body heaved uncontrollably. The acrid taste of bile rose up his throat and spilled out of his mouth, landing in a puddle on the ground in front of him.
There goes my morning coffee, thought Carter as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and gasped for fresh air.”
Source: The Siege at Simeon Heights: Bigfoot Fiction Thriller - Drama Novel - Family Adventure - Action Adventure - Sasquatch - Cryptid Suspense
“As he stood in the darkness, his eyes glistened and that’s when I knew my light found its traction.”
“As he stood there, watching me, watching me examine him, I asked him sharply: "Am I beautiful to you?" The expression on his face grew even darker. Never have I seen him the way he looked. A scorching heat came into his face, and it seemed he blinked to clear his vision. His perfect vision. He left me and went out of the room. I went after him. In truth, I couldn't bear to see him the way he was, yet I pursued him. "Am i beautiful to you?" He stared at me as if I frightened him. I held tight to his arm. "Answer me! Look at me! What do you see?" He was in a dreadful state. I thought he'd pull away, laugh, flash his usual brimming colours. But instead he dropped to his knees before me and took hold of both my arms. He kissed me roughly on the mouth. "I love you," he whispered. As if it were a curse he laid on me, and then he spoke this to me: "Cover her face; mine eyes dazzle; she died young.”
Source: The vampire Lestat
“As he stood up and gathered his attaché case and notebook, I reminded him that it had already been three weeks -- and counting.”
Source: Love, Song & Dance
“As he stroked between my thighs, he trailed his mouth up to my ear, told me with a voice like dark chocolate and smoke that I was everything he'd ever wished for, so perfectly soft and hot and slick on his fingers, how he'd tortured himself in his lonely bed thinking of my sexy little sounds, how hard he was going to fuck me once he made me scream.
"Oh God, Leo, please," I begged as I pushed my hips into his hand.
He groaned. "Yes, that's right. Let me make you feel good, love. Let me give this to you.”
Source: Love Walked In
“As he takes off his shroud, I realize how good I've gotten at pretending. Pretending not to notice the knives covering nearly every surface-knives that were specifically designed to peel my flesh. Pretending that eating preserves out of the same kind of jar they use to store our body parts in to sell back to the county is perfectly normal.Pretending this isn't crazy.. that we could actually get away with it...live happily ever after. But there is one thing in all of this that is not pretend. I'm in love with him. I may not be able to spend my life with him, grow old with him, but I can choose to give him my heart. My body. My soul. That's the one thing they will never be able to control in me. Untying the bow from my ribbon I wait for him. He swallows hard before stepping towards. Taking in slow, measured breaths, he twirls the strand around his finger. Our eyes meet. The energy radiating between us is so intense it feels like we might burn down the world. As he pulls the strand, releasing my braid, I know I should avert my gaze, turn my eyes to God, the way we’re taught, but in this moment, all I want is for him to see me. To be seen. As he lifts my slip over my head, it’s like lifting my veil. As I unbutton his trousers, I’m accepting his flower. When he presses his skin against mine, the bloom he chose for me opens
up, filling the space with a heady perfume of longing and pain. Entirely
ephemeral. Absolutely forbidden. And completely out of our control.
Dropping the ribbon to the floor, the last confine the county holds over
me, I lead him to the bed. He’s a poacher. I’m prey. Nothing will ever change that. But in this small treetop cabin, away from our home, and the men who named us, we
are still human beings, longing for connection, to feel something more than
despair in this bleak year. With nothing but the moon and the stars as our witness, he lies beside me. Pressing our palms together, entwining our fingers, we breathe in time. This is exactly where we need to be. There’s no second-guessing, no thinking. And when his lips meet mine, the world disappears. Like magic.”
Source: Grace Year
“As he talks, I lie back against the ground, the blanket wrapped around me, and say to the sky, "May your eye go to the Sun, To the wind your soul, You are all the colors in one, at full brightness.”
Source: All the Bright Places
“As he that fears God fears nothing else, so he that sees God sees everything else.”
Source: Sermons
“As he that lives longest lives but a little while, every man may be certain that he has no time to waste. The duties of life are commensurate to its duration; and every day brings its task, which, if neglected, is doubled on the morrow.”
Source: The Rambler: A Periodical Paper, Published in 1750, 1751, 1752