Quotessence
Home / Quotes / A Quotes

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 my years, and with my disposition, or rather, constitution, one gets to care less and less for everything except downright goodfeeling. Life is so short, and so ridiculous and irrational (from a certain point of view) that one knows not what to make of it, unless--well, finish the sentence for yourself.”

“At nearly three in the morning sleepiness weighted my body as we lay there together so still. I heard his breathing even out as we both hovered in that place between wake and sleep. And then his hand wandered lazily down my back and over my hip until he was cupping the full curve of my behind, part of me that he’d actively avoided touching all night. Scratch that sleepy thing. His firm hands clutched me closer and I breathed a heady gust of air at his throat. I’d been careful all night not to be too vocal about how good his touches felt. I knew each noise would act as fuel, making it even harder for him. He rolled to his back, pulling me on top of him with both hands fully on my backside now. “Kaidan,” I whispered. Looking half-asleep, he shushed me with a hot kiss, pulling my hips to crush us together. I whimpered into his mouth. “God, those little sounds,” he said against my lips. “I want to hear how you sound when I make you—” “Kai!” I practically leaped off him, and he sat up, eyes blazing, licking his lips. I was breathing hard. He had to be as tired as me after our long day, and it was starting to weaken us big-time. Oh, how I’d love to indulge that weakness. I scooted farther away. “Maybe we should try to get some sleep,” I suggested, though I was feeling wide-awake now. He stared at me with roaring passion. “I think a third shower might be necessary,” he said. A silly laugh wanted to escape me, but there was no humor in his eyes. Only want.”

“At network television you could make a show like Freaks and Geeks, and even though 7 million people watch is every week, you were considered a terrible failure, and they got rid of you and staff. Now ... It's like a world where the replacements are the biggest fans in the world. It's, the Elvis Costellos of television are the winners. Creativity is king and it's very very exciting.”

“At networking events, I am a heat-seeking missile for happy, vibrant people. With experience and practice, you can develop a sixth sense about whom to approach and of whom to be wary. I'm drawn to people with positive energy. I would rather be lifted up than pulled down. Wouldn’t you?”

“At New York City’s Rose Center of Earth and Space, we display a timeline spiral of the Universe that begins at the Big Bang and unfolds 13.8 billion years. Uncurled, it’s the length of a football field. Every step you take spans 50 million years. You get to the end of the ramp, and you ask, where are we? Where is the history of our human species? The entire period of time, from a trillion seconds ago to today, from graffiti-prone cave dwellers until now, occupies only the thickness of a single strand of human hair, which we have mounted at the end of that timeline. You think we live long lives, you think civilizations last a long time, but not from the view of the cosmos itself.”

“At [New York Leather Company][1], we know that when you’re looking for a leather jacket, you want to make sure it’s going to last. That’s why we use only the best materials and craftsmanship to ensure that you get a coat that not only looks good but also lasts for years. But we understand that you don’t need to be wearing your [leather jacket][2] all year round—you need options! That’s why we offer premium quality fabrics too, from cotton to fleece. We have them all.”

“At Nicali Sports Medicine in Pasadena, CA, we specialize in advanced recovery and performance care. Our deep tissue therapeutic sports massage targets muscle tension, accelerates healing, and improves flexibility for athletes and active individuals alike. Through precise deep tissue massage sports therapy, our team, nicalisportsmed.com helps restore balance and mobility so you can perform at your best. Searching for a deep tissue sports massage near me? Visit us at 709 E Colorado Blvd #140, Pasadena, CA 91101, call (626) 578-0618, or email [email protected] Regards, Ella Rae Pasadena, CA”

“At night, fishermen are paid for their hard work with one of the Pacific’s greatest views—the gates to the heavens above. Hawaii’s remoteness to the rest of the world leaves the skies unpolluted by man’s industrial byproducts and artificial light known on the mainland. A man can actually look back in time when he gets far enough away from the shores of Hawaii and leaves modern society behind. He will find a sky above him before the hustle and bustle of mankind, a place where a stunning display of rhythmically twinkling stars are the norm and planets lay boldly pronounced. Shooting stars are commonplace and so is the humbling feeling a man gets when looking at this masterpiece before him. The boat churns up neon-green phosphoresce that glows in the water below like fireflies. When the ocean is calm enough and the moon dark enough, it is completely impossible to tell where the earth ends and where the heavens begin.”

“At night I’d stand in front of the mirror, eyes closed, imagining the face of a beloved friend. Upturned nose, wavy hair, dark eyes, wide smile, belly laughing, lifting eyebrows, skipping stones. I’d feel the champagne glow of love and respect radiating from behind my sternum. When my eyes broke open on my own hateful face, I squeezed the embers tight to keep them from fizzling out. I kept forcing myself to imagine feeling self-love.  Then one night when I opened my eyes, I didn’t see a ghoul or a failure or a mask. I saw a tired, imperfect girl who wanted the world to be kind. And the love was already there.”

“At night I look up into the stars, Well the moon looks shining, Glint of light blimp my eyes, I seem to be flying in the air, Whenever I fly I feel like I touched the sky. Whenever I fly I feel like I touched the sky. It's okay to fly, instead of worrying I could die, In the air I use to travel over half million mile, My eyes seems to be blind, Whenever I fly I feel like I touched the sky. Whenever I fly I feel like I touched the sky. It scares me to fly, It often makes me nervous, Again I try light blimp my eye, Whenever I fly I feel like I touched the sky. Whenever I fly I feel like I touched the sky. I far, far more likely to fly, I breathe closely, to the sky, If there were no light, I could feel bright, Whenever I fly I feel like I touched the sky. Whenever I fly I feel like I touched the sky. Sometimes I breathe, breathe, Sometimes I close my eyes, I felt like touching the sky, Whenever I fly I feel like I touched the sky. Whenever I fly I feel like I touched the sky.”

“At night I no longer dreamed, nor did I let my imagination work during the day. The once vibrant escapes of watching myself fly through the clouds in bright blue costumes, were now a thing of the past. When I fell asleep, my soul became consumed in a black void. I no longer awoke in the mornings refreshed; I was tired and told myself that I had one day less to live in this world. I shuffled through my chores, dreading every moment of every day. With no dreams, I found that words like hope and faith were only letters, randomly put together into something meaningless - words only for fairy tales.”

“At night I would lie in bed and watch the show, how bees squeezed through the cracks of my bedroom wall and flew circles around the room, making that propeller sound, a high-pitched zzzzzz that hummed along my skin. I watched their wings shining like bits of chrome in the dark and felt the longing build in my chest. The way those bees flew, not even looking for a flower, just flying for the feel of the wind, split my heart down its seam.”

“At night in the tent, he leaves the flaps open, to feel the fire outside, to hear Anthony in the trailer, to see her better. She asks him to lie on his stomach, and he does, though he can't see her, while she runs her bare breasts over his disfigured back, her nipples hardening into his scars. You feel that? she whispers. Oh, he does. He still feels it. She kisses him from the top of his head downward, from his buzz-cut scalp, his shoulder blades, his wounds. Inch by inch she cries over him and kisses her own salt away, murmuring into him, why did you have to keep running? Look what they did to you. Why didn't you just stay put? Why couldn't you feel I was coming for you? You thought I was dead, he says. You thought I had been killed and pushed through the ice in Lake Ladoga. And what really happened was, I was a Soviet man left in a Soviet prison. Wasn't I dead? He is fairly certain he is alive now, and while Tatiana lies on top of his back and cries, he remembers being caught by the dogs a kilometer from Oranienburg and held in place by the Alsatians until Karolich arived, and being flogged in Sachsenhausen's main square and then chained and tattooed publicly with the 25-point star to remind him of his time for Stalin, and now she lies on his back, kissing the scars he received when he tried to escape to make his way back to her so she could kiss him. As he drives across Texas, Alexander remembers himself in Germany lying in the bloody straw after being beaten and dreaming of her kissing him, and these dreams morph with the memories of last night, and suddenly she is kissing not the scars but the raw oozing wounds, and he is in agony for she is crying and the brine of her tears is eating away the meat of his flesh, and he is begging her to stop because he can't take it anymore. Kiss something else, he pleads. Anything else. He's had enough of himself. He's sick of himself. She is tainted not just with the Gulag. She is tainted with his whole life. Does it hurt when I touch them? He has to lie. Every kiss she plants on his wounds stirs a sense memory of how he got them. He wanted her to touch him, and this is what he gets. But if he tells her the truth, she will stop. So he lied. No, he says.”

“At night the space is filled with the scent of daphne, philadelphus and Choisya ternata. Protected by walls and hedges, the leaves still rustle in the breeze, whispering to one another or, perhaps, to me. I fancy this part is occupied by relatives of the kami, the sacred spirits of the Japanese forest, which can take the form of trees, of which the Cornus Gloria Birkett is now the most splendid, its pale bracts like a shimmer of creamy-white butterflies come to rest.”