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B Quotes

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

All B Quotes

“Before Keir MacRae arrived, everything was normal. Now there's been stabbings, explosions, and debauchery, and my sensible older sister is engaged to a Scottish whisky distiller. What's happened to you? You're supposed to be level-headed!" Merritt tried to sound dignified. "Just because one is usually level-headed doesn't mean one is always level-headed." "You won't be comprised if no one knows about it," Luke said. "And God knows none of us are going to say anything." The duke intervened, his voice so dry one could have struck a match off it. "My boy, you're missing the point. Your sister wants to be compromised." Ethan Ransom, who had been inching toward the stairs, ventured, "I don't need to be part of this conversation. I'm going up to see my wife.”

“Before Kiki and I headed toward the Keep, I thanked my friends. “For what? We didn’t do anything,” Janco grumbled. “For caring enough to follow my guards. And the next time, I might need the help.” “There better not be a next time,” Ari said, giving me a stern look. “How touching,” Janco said, pretending to wipe his eyes. “Get going, Yelena. I don’t want you to see me cry.” He faked a sniffle. “I’m sure your ego can handle it,” I said. “Or will you need to beat up some trainees to feel like a man again?” “Very funny,” he said.”

“Before label yourself and before you decide that there is something irreparably wrong with your thoughts or emotions, ask yourself: “Do I have a caring, unconditionally loving best friend in myself?” If the answer is “No,” then you will not find the solution to your suffering until you address this serious, life-threatening absence of self-compassion. Self-love is not a dinner mint. Self-love matters. Self-love saves lives.”

“Before leading us onto the path of success and glory, the Universe tests how serious we are to pursue our dream...how passionate we are. And, it has a very interesting way to find out. Example, after much cajoling and inspiration, when we start our fitness regime, exercising, yoga, etc, our body starts aching on 2nd or 3rd day...so much so that we find it difficult to walk...and as a result...we stop our fitness regime. So, nature filters us out. Then there is the 2nd level of filtering. Within 10-15 days of embarking our fitness regime, we come across a situation when we are required to travel or attend a function or report at workplace early or work till late in the evening. After this gap of 3-4 days, many people don’t resume exercising. When you want to pursue your dreams...you will be deprived of resources and will find yourself surrounded by naysayers and negative thinkers. Result: You stop pursuing your dreams. The key is – “Never ever give up”. Believe in Yourself. Let the Universe know that you will pursue your dream and goal, no matter what.”

“Before Leonardo da Vinci painted The Last Supper, he saw the masterpiece in his mind. Before Winston Churchill led Britain during World War II, he envisioned winning the battle. Before Tiger Woods won his first championship, he saw himself holding the coveted trophy. There are times when God gives you a dream so distinctly that it changes the direction of your life.”

“Before long, my mother's friend, who, at the last minute, decided to stay for dinner, was asked to sit where I'd sat at lunch. Oliver's place setting was instantly removed, The removal was performed summarily, without a hint of regret or compunction, the way you'd remove a bulb that was no longer working, or scrape out the entrails of a butchered sheep, or take off the sheets and blankets from a bed where someone had died. Here, take these, and remove them from sight. I watched his silverware, his place mat, his napkin, his entire being disappear. It presaged exactly what would happen less than a month from now.”

“Before long our entire table was covered in food: an earthenware ramekin of pearly-pink prawns bathed in garlic butter; translucent, paper-thin slices of cured ham fanned out on the plate; tortilla espanola with nuggets of potato and sweet onion; candy-stripe beets studded with goat cheese and almond slivers; slow-cooked short ribs almost silky in their tenderness; thick chorizo stew.”

“Before long the meeting at headquarters got down to a serious discussion of how General Bragg was to be dealt with, and Howard suddenly realized that he had never attended a strategy conference like this one: matters were not handled so informally in the Army of the Potomac. Grant and Thomas and Sherman simply talked things out, putting a whole campaign in review—Sherman bubbling with ideas, as always, Thomas full of solid facts about the roads and mountains and rivers where they would have to fight, Grant listening to both men and now and then putting in an observation of his own. Howard, who was not especially fanciful, felt that it was almost like being in a courtroom: Thomas was the learned judge, Sherman the brilliant advocate, and Grant was the jury whose verdict would settle everything.”

“Before Luce could reply, a skinny, dark haired girl appeared in from of her, wagging her long fingers in Luce's face. "Ooooooh," the girl taunted in a ghost-story-telling voice, dancing around Luce in a circle. "The reds are watching youuuu." "Get out of here, Arriane, before I have you lobotimized," the attendant said, though it was clear from her first brief but genuine smile that she had some coarse affection for that crazy girl. It was also clear that Arriane did not reciprocate the love. She mimed a jerking-off motion at the attendant, then stared at Luce, daring her to be offended.”

“Before Mags became a household name across Scotland, it was during the mid Nineties when she became an avid anti-paedophile campaigner against paedophiles on the Raploch Estate, attracting media attention, even appearing on Robert Kilroy-Silk’s morning TV show. At the height of her anti-paedophilic crusade, she led a howling mob of protesters to a hostel near her home where a known paedophile was staying.”

“Before Mance, Varamyr Sixskins had been a lord of sorts. He lived alone in a hall of moss and mud and hewn logs that had once been Haggon’s, attended by his beasts. A dozen villages did him homage in bread and salt and cider, offering him fruit from their orchards and vegetables from their gardens. His meat he got himself. Whenever he desired a woman he sent his shadowcat to stalk her, and whatever girl he’d cast his eye upon would follow meekly to his bed. Some came weeping, aye, but still they came. Varamyr gave them his seed, took a hank of their hair to remember them by, and sent them back. From time to time, some village hero would come with spear in hand to slay the beastling and save a sister or a lover or a daughter. Those he killed, but he never harmed the women. Some he even blessed with children. Runts. Small, puny things, like Lump, and not one with the gift.”

“Before Marco could respond, the low hum of the backup systems faltered, flickering off momentarily, plunging the cafeteria into silence. The crowd froze, and then the red emergency lights flared back on, dimmer than before. A wave of unease rippled through the room. “What now?” Marco muttered, his hand brushing the edge of the table as if for support. Then the voice came. It was faint at first, a whisper carried on an invisible wind. But it grew quickly, overlapping into a cacophony of fragmented words and phrases, echoing from every direction. “Too many… too much…” “Falling… the stars… no, no, no…” “I can’t… hold… where… where are you…?” The cafeteria erupted into chaos. People clutched their heads or dropped to their knees, covering their ears as if trying to block out the sound. Some screamed, others whimpered, and a few simply stood frozen, wide-eyed and pale. Marco turned to Berta, shouting over the noise. “What’s going on? Is this the Logista? Is it them?” Berta didn’t answer, her gaze fixed on the center of the room. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but something about the voice sent a chill down her spine. Then, with a sound like distant thunder, the echoes ceased. The room fell silent, save for the sound of ragged breathing and muffled sobs. The crowd stood motionless, their eyes darting around, waiting for something else to happen. And then it did. A flash of light burst into existence at the center of the room, so bright it forced everyone to shield their eyes. When it subsided, a figure lay crumpled on the floor, smoke rising faintly from their form. Marco’s breath caught. “Ereban?”

“Before marriage a man prays that she accepts, after marriage a woman prays that he accepts”

“Before marrying Vic, she had been a librarian in the Westchester school system, and her own private nightmare had always been telling the kids for the third time—in her loudest speaking voice—to quiet down at once, please. When she did that, they always had—enough for her to get through the period, at least—but what if they wouldn't? That was her nightmare. What if they absolutely wouldn't? What did that leave?”