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A Quotes

Browse famous quotes beginning with A. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.

All A Quotes

“At home, a bowl of long-grain white rice will get a stream of melted butter and a crumbling of sea salt and then, as I turn the grains slowly in the warm, golden fat, perhaps a grating of Parmesan, then a little black pepper and lemon juice. A bowl of sticky rice feels more at home with sansho pepper or toasted sesame seeds, crumbs of dried nori and some crisp pickled radish. Another day I will heat the meat juices left over from the Sunday roast and stir them into the rice, streaking them with ribbons of glistening mahogany.”

“At home and abroad, military men and women are showing purpose and dedication in defending American ideas. They are performing in our country's best traditions under circumstances both difficult and complex. Thanks to their determined spirit of patriotism and professionalism, our country has a powerful and unified defense team, employing its forces in the constant quest for peace and freedom.”

“At home he went about in his socks. That way he could avoid disturbing the neighbors and also indulge in the occasional shoeless swoop across the room, as when one is preparing a breakfast of oatmeal and the oatmeal wants raisins and brown sugar, which are in the cupboard at the other end of the room. To glide with sock-swaddled feet over a world of glossy planes: that would be a wondrous thing! But Unwin’s apartment was smallish at best, and the world is unkind to the shoeless and frolicsome.”

“At home, I have a poster on my wall of a rose that’s bleeding. Its petals are white, and red liquid oozes from its heart, thick and glistening warm. Only, if you look very close, you can see the droplets are coming from above, where a little girl’s wrist—camouflaged by a cluster of leaves—has been pricked by thorns as she reached inside to catch a monarch. I used to wonder why she risked getting sliced up just to touch a butterfly. But now it makes sense: she wanted those wings so she could fly away, because the pain of trying to reach for them was more tolerable than the pain of staying grounded, wherever she was. Today, I embrace that child’s perfect wisdom. What I wouldn’t give for a set of wings . . .”

“At home I pulled all my blinds. I said to my Grandmama and Mama this and that. I said to them, You believed in signs. I remember that well. I remembered how my Mama could read the steam coming off a soup kettle. Especially if it had good, fresh marrow in it. And if I didn’t feel good, Grandmama would go out and bring in fistfuls of wild herbs. She’d throw them in broths and read, depending on my ailment. She was half doctor, half priest. I said to her once when I had the croup and she was making me drink something that had grass in it, I said, “Grandmama, are you making me drink magic?” “No baby, this is good ole-fashioned hoodoo.”

“At home I used to spend calm, pleasant nights with my family. My mother knit scarves for the neighborhood kids. My father helped Caleb with his homework. There was a fire in the fireplace and peace in my heart, as I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing, and everything was quiet. I have never been carried around by a large boy, or laughed until my stomach hurt at the dinner table, or listened to the clamor of a hundred people all talking at once. Peace is restrained; this is free.”

“At home in South Africa I have sometimes said in big meetings where you have black and white together: 'Raise your hands!' Then I have said: 'Move your hands,' and I've said 'Look at your hands - different colors representing different people. You are the Rainbow People of God.'”

“At home in the nursery, I usually played alone. Actually, I seldom played, I spoke to the wallpaper. The many dark circles in the pattern of the wallpaper seemed like people to me. I made up stories in which they appeared, either I told them the stories or they played with me, I never got tired of the wallpaper people and I could talk to them for hours.”

“At home in the states, I think there's a tendency in the states to go for the latest, greatest thing. The latest, greatest is the latest greatest. I think when you're talking about France, England, things like that, they look for the history of an artist and they go back when it comes to music like this anyway. They will go back a little bit further. I think the United States is very knowledgeable and it's a good place to play.”

“At home, my father ate all the most burnt pieces of toast. 'Yum!' he'd say, and 'Charcoal! Good for you!' and 'Burnt toast! My favorite!' and he'd eat it all up. When I was much older he confessed to me that he had not ever liked burnt toast, had only eaten it to prevent it from going to waste, and, for a fraction of a moment, my entire childhood felt like a lie, it was as if one of the pillars of belief that my world had been built upon had crumbled into dry sand.”

“At home, on my court, I was somewhat alone in my ambition. Adults played, but few young girls hit the court like I did; maybe there were two others in my city. So, I challenged myself to play the boys. After all, what would those wonderful, powerful women who inspired me do? Take on the boys and beat them, of course!”

“At home, our land is posted against hunters and trappers, but that doesn't stop the jacklighters." "The what?" Japheth asked. Dennys tried to explain. "Hunters who shine a bright light in the eyes of the deer. It blinds them and they freeze and can't move, and then the hunters shoot. Jack-lighting is illegal, but that doesn't stop a lot of people." "A lot?" Japheth asked. Dennys stated, "A few can seem like a lot.”

“At home, she loved the movies. She loved sitting in the dark, waiting for something wonderful to begin. Especially, the tragic and frightening movies in which ladies fainted dead away and monsters roared up out of the dark. Like in that cartoon her mother had taken her to see when she was very small, in which the dark-haired princess ran away into the terrible forest and the owls flew at her and pecked at her hands. That was wonderful--because the world was suddenly alive and excited and wanted things just the way September herself sometimes wanted things. Even if the world seemed mainly not to want a princess bothering it. September had not liked the princess so much, either, as she had a high, breathy voice she found deeply annoying. But the owls and the mines and the flashing eyes in the wood--that she had liked.”

“At home that night, I was working on my mythology report when Phoebe called. She was whispering. When she went downstairs to say good night to her father, he was sitting in his favorite chair staring at the television, but the television wasn't on. If she didn't know her father better, she would have though he had been crying. 'But my father never cries,' she said.”

“At home that night, I was working on my mythology report when Phoebe called. She was whispering. When she went downstairs to say goodnight to her father, he was sitting in his favorite chair staring at the television, but the television wasn't on. If she did not know her father any better, she would have thought he had been crying. 'But my father never cries,' she said. But my father never cries.”

“At home the great delight is to see the clover and grass now growing on places that were bare when we came. These small healings of the ground are my model accomplishment-everything else I do must aspire to that. While I was at that work the world gained with every move I made, and I harmed nothing.”