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E Quotes

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

All E Quotes

“Everything was a metaphor; all things were something other than themselves. The pain, for example, was an ocean, and he was adrift on it. His body was a city and his mind a citadel. All communications between the two seemed to have been cut, but within the keep that was his mind he still had power. The part of his consciousness that was telling him the pain did not hurt, and that all things were like other things, was like...like...he found it hard to think of a comparison. A magic mirror, maybe.”

“Everything was a trap: women, drugs, whiskey, wine, scotch, beer - even beer - cigars, and cigarettes. Traps: Work or no work. Traps: Artistry or no artistry; everything sucked you into some spiderweb. I disdained the use of the needle for the same reason that I disdained some so-called beautiful women - the price was far beyond the measure of the worth. I didn't want to hustle that hard.”

“Everything was an excuse. The felt so concrete, so real at the time. Now they are wispy, pathetic. I was terrified. If I participated in the world I moved closer to, then I would have to stomach the chance that I might fail at every task I tackled. I didn't want to fail at being Native. Being Native to me then meant not only having the experience of all of these cultural things, but also being decent at them. I wanted to feel a peace in myself that cultural things brought me, but I had never felt so out of my depth. Failure felt imminent. But I couldn't fail at something I never had the chance to try. So the excuses continued to pour from me, sweetly apologetic to hide the stench of the rotting fear that created them.”

“Everything was black, and warm- and thick. Inky, but bordered with gold. I was swimming, kicking for the surface, where Tamlin was waiting, where life was waiting. Up and up, frantic for air. The golden light grew, and the darkness became like sparkling wine, easier to swim through, the bubbles fizzing around me, and- I gasped, air flooding my throat. I was lying on the cold floor. No pain- no blood, no broken bones. I blinked. A chandelier dangled above me- I'd never noticed how intricate the crystals were, how the hushed gasp of the crowd echoed off them. A crowd- meaning I was still in the throne room, meaning I... I truly wasn't dead. Meaning I had... I had killed those... I had... The room spun. I groaned as I braced my hands against the floor, readying myself to stand, but- the sight of my skin stopped me cold. It gleamed with a strange light, and my fingers seemed longer where I'd laid them flat on the marble. I pushed to my feet. I felt- felt strong, and fast and sleek. And- And I'd become High Fae.”

“Everything was blurry. She needed her spectacles. And it was awfully difficult to go looking for something when you couldn't see more than two feet in front of your face. Moreover, if one of the housemaids found the spectacles in Leo's room, or God help her, in his bed, everyone would find out. Abandoning the slipper, Dodger trotted to her and stood tall, bracing his long, slender body against her knee. He was shivering, which Beatrix had told her was normal for ferrets. A ferret's temperature lowered when he was sleeping, and shivering was his way of warming himself upon awakening. Catherine reached down to stroke him. When he tried to climb into her lap, however, she nudged him away. "I don't feel well," she told the ferret woefully, although there was nothing wrong with her physically. Chattering in annoyance at her rejection, Dodger turned and streaked out of the room. Catherine continued to lie with her head on the table, feeling too dreary and ashamed to move. She had slept late. She could hear the sounds of footsteps and muffled conversation coming from the lower floors. Had Leo gone down for breakfast? She couldn't possibly face him. Her mind returned to those blistering minutes of the previous night. A fresh swell of desire rolled through her as she thought of the way he had kissed her, the feel of his mouth on the intimate places of her body. She heard the ferret come back into the room again, chuckling and hopping as he did whenever he was especially pleased about something. "Go away, Dodger," she said dully. But he persisted, coming to her side and standing tall again, his body a long cylinder. Glancing at him, Catherine saw that something was clamped carefully in his front teeth. She blinked. Slowly she reached down and took the object from him. Her spectacles. Amazing, how much better a small gesture of kindness could make one feel. "Thank you," she whispered, tears coming to her eyes as she stroked his tiny head. "I do love you, you disgusting weasel." Climbing onto her lap, Dodger flipped upside down and sighed.”

“Everything was fine with the Zen Lunatics, the nut wagon was too far away to hear us. But there was a wisdom in it all, as you'll see if you take a walk some night on a suburban street and pass house after house on both sides of the street each with the lamplight of the living room, shining golden, and inside the little blue square of the television, each living family riveting its attention on probably one show; nobody talking; silence in the yards; dogs barking at you because you pass on human feet instead of on wheels. You'll see what I mean, when it begins to appear like everybody in the world is soon going to be thinking the same way and the Zen Lunatics have long joined dust, laughter on their dust lips.”

“Everything was going perfectly well until Dr. Roy paused for a long minute to stare at me with utter shock and revelation. I knew I had messed up. I should have just worn my black, full-sleeved dress instead. But again, I thought that the scars had lightened to an unnoticeable extent. But I guess I was wrong. That was when I realized that scars never went away entirely. “Did you do that to yourself?” he asked.”

“Everything was just as he had expected; everything was done just as it always is. The doctor’s pretentious self-importance was familiar—he had seen the same in himself at court —and the sounding, and listening, the needless questions with obvious answers, and a heavy look that seemed to say, Listen, just leave it to us, we’ll take care of everything—we know precisely how to make the arrangements, it’s the same for anybody. It was exactly the same as at court.”