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C Quotes

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

All C Quotes

“Chris had been a genuinely nice guy – a guy with a warm heart and friendly demeanour. What’s more, he, Mortimer, had lived and laughed alongside him – something his dead companions didn’t exactly evoke. OK. So they had their uses from time to time and offered him company when he desired it. Even so, that was it. They were dead, not living. Anyway, their conversations weren’t exactly inspiring.”

“Chris looked at the dog, who has finished feasting on her foot and now comes to sit at his feet, looking up at him as if she expects him to do something. She's leggier than most classic English bulldogs, mostly a dark fawn color, but with a large white patch over one eye. She has those droopy bulldog eyes that can look, by turns, sad and judgmental. But now she stands and cocks her head and wags her tail, and Chris finds himself smiling, begrudgingly, and patting the sofa cushion Beth just vacated. "All right, up you come." The dog hops up, and Chris begins scratching her behind one ear. "You going to put up with me?" he asks. She grunts and leans into his hand.”

“Chris loved to look at every type of plant, animal, and bug he hadn’t seen before on the trail and point out those he did recognize. He enjoyed walking along small streams, listening to the water as it traveled, and searching for eddies where we could watch the minnows scurry amongst the rocks. On one Shenandoah trip, while we were resting at a waterfall, eating our chocolate-covered granola bars and watching the water pummel the rocks below, he said, “See, Carine ? That’s the purity of nature. It may be harsh in its honesty, but it never lies to you”. Chris seemed to be most comfortable outdoors, and the farther away from the typical surroundings and pace of our everyday lives the better. While it was unusual for a solid week to pass without my parents having an argument that sent them into a negative tailspin of destruction and despair, they never got into a fight of any consequence when we were on an extended family hike or camping trip. It seemed like everything became centered and peaceful when there was no choice but to make nature the focus. Our parents’ attention went to watching for blaze marks on trees ; staying on the correct trail ; doling out bug spray, granola bars, sandwiches, and candy bars at proper intervals ; and finding the best place to pitch the tent before nightfall. They taught us how to properly lace up our hiking boots and wear the righ socks to keep our feet healthy and reliable. They showed us which leaves were safe to use as toilet paper and which would surely make us miserable downtrail. We learned how to purify water for our canteens if we hadn’t found a safe spring and to be smart about conserving what clean water we had left. At night we would collect rocks to make a fire ring, dry wood to burn, and long twigs for roasting marshmallows for the s’more fixings Mom always carried in her pack. Dad would sing silly, non-sensical songs that made us laugh and tell us about the stars.”

“Chris Manion has created a handbook, in the form of a memoir, on how to let the beauty of life be a feast for the soul. Through trial and triumph, she carefully examines the potential in each moment, and each time breaks through to something significant, instructive, and graceful. It is a joy to behold. ...real insight into living life in the light. - Marion Roach Smith”

“Chris Nielsen: Thank you for every kindness. Thank you for our children. For the first time I saw them. Thank you for being someone I was always proud to be with. For your guts, for your sweetness. For how you always looked, for how I always wanted to touch you. God, you were my life. I apologize for everytime I ever failed you. Especially this one.”

“Chris proposed exactly the way I've always dreamed. Our families were close by, but it was just us out on a beautiful deck overlooking a lake in East Tennessee. We had just been on a hike and - in our workout clothes - he hit the knee! We feel so blessed by God that He sent us each other, and we are looking so forward to forever together.”

“Chris’ second letter was less noble. She started off by rhapsodizing once again about Dick’s face: “I started looking at your face that night in the restaurant—oh wow, isn’t that like the first line in the Ramones song, ‘Needles & Pins’? ‘I saw your face/It was the face I loved/And I knew’—and I got the same feeling from it that I get every-time I hear that song, and when you called my heart was pounding and then I thought that maybe we could do something together, something that is to adolescent romance what the Ramone’s cover of the song is to the original. The Ramones give ‘Needles & Pins’ the possibility of irony, but the irony doesn’t undercut the song’s emotion, it makes it stronger and more true. Søren Kierkegaard called this “the Third Remove.” In his book ‘The Crisis In The Life Of An Actress’, he claims no actress can play 14-year-old Juliette until she’s at least 32. Because acting’s art, and art involves reaching through some distance. Playing the vibrations between here and there and then and now. And don’t you think reality is best attained through dialectics? PS, Your face is mobile, craggy, beautiful…”

“Chris, soap people are like us-they seldom go outdoors. And when they do, we only hear about it, never see it. They loll about in living rooms, bedrooms, sit in the kitchens and sip coffee or stand up and drink martinis-but never, never go outside before our eyes. And whenever something good happens, whenever they think they're finally going to be happy, some catastrophe comes along to dash their hopes.”

“Chris- the one who wrote the halfway creepy thing about missing me so much when I didn't post and thinking I was dead- found it mind-boggling that before the Julie/Julia Project began, I had never eaten an egg. She asked, "How can you have gotten through life without eating a single egg? How is that POSSIBLE???!!!!!" Of course, it wasn't exactly true that I hadn't eaten an egg. I had eaten them in cakes. I had even eaten them scrambled once or twice, albeit in the Texas fashion, with jalapeños and a pound of cheese. But the goal of my egg-eating had always been to make sure the egg did not look, smell, or taste anything like one, and as a result my history in this department was, I suppose, unusual. Chris wasn't the only person shocked. People I'd never heard of chimed in with their awe and dismay. I didn't really get it. Surely this is not such a bizarre hang-up as hating, say, croutons, like certain spouses I could name. Luckily, eggs made the Julia Child way often taste like cream sauce. Take Oeufs en Cocotte, for example. These are eggs baked with some butter and cream in ramekins set in a shallow pan of water. They are tremendous. In fact the only thing better than Oeufs en Cocotte is Ouefs en Cocotte with Sauce au Cari on top when you've woken up with a killer hangover, after one of those nights when somebody decided at midnight to buy a pack of cigarettes after all, and the girls wind up smoking and drinking and dancing around the living room to the music the boy is downloading from iTunes onto his new, ludicrously hip and stylish G3 Powerbook until three in the morning. On mornings like this, Oeufs en Cocotte with Sauce au Cari, a cup of coffee, and an enormous glass of water is like a meal fed to you by the veiled daughters of a wandering Bedouin tribe after one of their number comes upon you splayed out in the sands of the endless deserts of Araby, moments from death- it's that good.”

“Chris Tucker gives Jackie Chan his LAPD ID and tells him to pretend to be LAPD if anything goes sideways in the Foo Chow restaurant. Jackie Chan looks at the ID with Chris Tucker’s picture on it and says, “This won’t work—I’m not 6′1″!” And that’s just a gorgeously structured classic joke.”

“Chris would use the spiritual aspect to try to motivate us. "He'd tell us to think about all the evil in the world, all the hatred, and imagine ourselves running against the forces of darkness, the evil wall that was trying to keep us from running our best. He believed that doing well was all mental, a simple matter of harnessing whatever energy was available.”

“Chrismadan (The Sonnet) What happens when two ancient cultures come together! They create a spectacular specimen called dervish advaitin. When mistletoe and menorrah combine, heart shines brighter, Beyond belief 'n disbelief, there's a land most enlightening. Keep your outdated sectarian identities to yourself, I am Jewistian, Hinduslim, or simply Human Universal. Be the next civilized step of humankind's evolution, Not just another savage vessel of mistakes ancestral. Revitalized by Ramadan, humanized by Christmas, Let's celebrate Chrismadan, as well as Hanukkawali. Instead of carrying on as second-hand savages, Habibi come, let us start living with humanity! When all religions combine, a modern human is born. Without integration there is no dawn, just endless mourn.”

“Chrisser… Far. Kan du ikke gå lidt langsommere?” Han så ned på hende igen, hun småløb for at følge med ham. Han stoppede op. “Jo. Hvad med at vi laver et kompromis? Så går jeg lidt langsommere og du går lidt hurtigere?” Hun så tænksomt op på ham. Så nikkede hun. Og han tænkte at allerede nu, var han en bedre far, end hans egen far havde været. Hans far indgik hverken kompromiser eller holdt i hånden. Oplivet af den tanke rankede han ryggen og styrede dem i retning af supermarkedet. Han bemærkede ikke, at hun igen måtte småløbe for at holde trit med ham.”