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G Quotes

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

All G Quotes

“Gingerbread I knew I had to get out of there before the icing cracked and they discovered that I'm burnt around the edges, doughy in the center, that what they thought was sugar is salt. If I was a good girl, if I could satisfy their cravings, if every dream in my misshapen head didn't bite, I might have stayed at the table. Wouldn't you run, too, from such voracious love?”

“Gingerly, I reached for another bite from my plate, choosing what looked to be some kind of brownie with mint candy topping. Chocolate and mint flooded my mouth, and the feeling of magic that I had started picking out in the presence of the fae. "Each court has a few skilled fae that like to make it," Heather added. "It's basically enchanted, and you can even make them do things like turn warm in your mouth or disguise a flavor. There's more but I don't know how to do the advanced stuff." "That's amazing," I said, reaching for the wine glass. "This too?" "That too," Devin said. "Every change of season, Artemis gifts the other court leaders a bottle." Taking a sip, there was a hint of sour cherries but it wasn't overpowering and the rest of the flavor was almost that of a mulled wine or a cider. I could see it being addictive.”

“Ginny Cupper took me in her car out to the spread fields of Indiana. Parking near the edge of woods and walking out into the sunny rows of corn, waving seeds to a yellow horizon. She wore a white blouse and a gray patch of sweat under her arms and the shadow of her nipples was gray. We were rich. So rich we could never die. Ginny laughed and laughed, white saliva on her teeth lighting up the deep red of her mouth, fed the finest food in the world. Ginny was afraid of nothing. She was young and old. Her brown arms and legs swinging in wild optimism, beautiful in all their parts. She danced on the long hood of her crimson Cadillac, and watching her, I thought that God must be female. She leaped into my arms and knocked me to the ground and screamed into my mouth.”

“Ginny had named her supper club after the prominent mesquite tree that shaded the home's picturesque front garden. She adored these deciduous trees---native to Arizona---with their soft, ferny canopies that dotted the desert landscape. The species of velvet mesquite on her property routinely produced fragrant spikes of yellow flowers in April and sometimes again in August after it rained. The blossoms reminded Ginny of random bursts of sunshine. She hoped all who saw them took them as a good omen, just as she had upon discovering the house.”

“Ginny, listen...I can't be involved with you anymore. We've got to stop seeing each other. We can't be together." "It's for some stupid noble reason isn't it?" "It's been like...like something out of someone else's life these last few weeks with you. But I can't...we can't...I've got to do things alone now. Voldemort uses people his enemies are close to. He's already used you as bait once, and that was just because you were my best friend's sister. Think how much danger you'll be in if we keep this up. He'll know, he'll find out. He'll try and get me through you." "What if I don't care?" "I care. How do you think I'd feel if this was your funeral...and it was my fault...”

“Ginny told me that, like Dr. Wisner's patients, her problem was not so much that she had an urge to kill her grandchildren, but rather a fear that she might somehow lose control of her senses. She put it this way: "The fear is not that in my current state I could do these things, but that I might slip into a state where I could do it. Right now, when I am thinking about it, I know it won't happen. But still it festers, it festers and lingers, and it keeps beating on you and beating on - like it's the villain, the enemy, the monster, the demon - it's a faceless devil." With my encouragement, Ginny told her husband about the thoughts. She was relieved that his reaction was "he just couldn't even believe what he was hearing - he knew I'd never do these things, they were just bad thoughts." When I asked Ginny why she thought he has so much faith in her, she replied, "Because he sees me with people daily. He said he fell in love with me because I am kind. For example, he reminded me of a time when we were together in a cabin, and I noticed a bee trapped behind a screen and I told him I didn't want the bee to die, so he spent the first hour of our first weekend together undoing the screen to free the bee. He asked me, does that sound like someone who would kill her grandchildren? He also reminded me that I am soft and warm and very loving, and he would never worry about me doing the awful things I was thinking of." Needless to say, Ginny was relieved by her husband's reaction, since she had feared he would think she was crazy.”

“Giorgia Meloni Prime Minister of Italy says in 2025. Islam is not compatible with western values, This is my reply to her. "Thank you for acknowledging this Giorgia Meloni Prime Minister of Italy. You are right, A religion based on dignity cannot be compatible with a culture that is mother of pornography, culture of narcotics, women abuse, nudity, prostitution, extramarital affairs, human pet, mistress, illegitimate children, old age homes the commodification of women, and hollow values.”

“Giorgio guardava i colleghi senza capire. «Qui so’ cazzi!» fece Dodo. «Non l’hai ancora capito, Giorgio?». «No...». «Profilo basso e tieniti tutto dentro». «Ma cosa...». «La narrativa italiana non c’è più!» disse in un fiato Margherita. «Come non c’è più?». «No. Ora si chiama...» e Dodo aprì un dépliant, «comunicazione in lingua indigena». «Non ho capito» disse Giorgio. «La narrativa italiana ora si chiama comunicazione in lingua indigena».”

“Giovanni had awakened an itch, had released a gnaw in me. I realized it one afternoon, when I was taking him to work via the Boulevard Montparnasse. We had bought a kilo of cherries and we were eating them as we walked along. We were both insufferably childish and high-spirited that afternoon and the spectacle we presented, two grown men jostling each other on the wide sidewalk and aiming the cherry pits, as though they were spitballs, into each other's faces, must have been outrageous. And I realized that such childishness was fantastic at my age and the happiness out of which it sprang yet more so; for that moment I really loved Giovanni, who had never seemed more beautiful than he was that afternoon.”

“Giovanni, in proposito, mi ha detto: «Sono talmente confuso che non riesco a immaginarmelo, un domani. Non c'è nessun posto che faccia per me, nessuna condizione di vita nella quale mi vedo. Non mi è possibile figurarmi il futuro, non riesco a pensarlo o a pensare il mondo, se prima non mi capisco io.» Mi pare sia precisamente questo, il punto: non può esserci futuro senza identità, perché altrimenti non ci si può mandare nessuno ad abitarlo.”

“Giraldus claimed that he had heard about Eleanor's adultery with Geoffrey from the saintly Bishop Hugh of Lincoln, who had learned of it from Henry II of England, Geoffrey's son and Eleanor's second husband. Eleanor was estranged from Henry at the time Giraldus was writing, and the king was trying to secure an annulment of their marriage from the Pope. It would have been to his advantage to declare her an adulterous wife who had had carnal relations with his father, for that in itself would have rendered their marriage incestuous and would have provided prima facie grounds for its dissolution.”

“Gird up your loins for the task that now lies ahead. I had asked you for men, money and materials. I have got them in generous measure. Now I demand more of you. Men, money and materials cannot by themselves bring victory or freedom. We must have the motive-power that will inspire us to brave deeds and heroic exploits.”

“Girl dancer! Oh you shifting Of all that passes into steps: how you manage that! And the eddy at the end, a tree made from a vortex, Does it not take full possession of the swirling year? And the tip of your tree, does it not blossom Quietly above you, from your spinning? Is it not Your limitless warmth, the sun, The summer, its heat? But your tree of ecstasy bears, Gives quiet fruit: the flagon streaked with ripeness, And the vase riper still.”

“Girl going past clinging to a young man's arm. Putting up her face like a duck to the moon. Drinking joy. Green in her eyes. Spinal curvature. No chin, mouth like a frog. Young man like a pug. Gazing down at his sweetie with the face of a saint reading the works of God. Hold on, maiden, you've got him. He's your boy. Look out, Puggy, that isn't a maiden you see before you, it's a work of imagination. Nail him, girlie. Nail him to the contract. Fly laddie, fly off with your darling vision before she turns into a frow, who spends all her life thinking of what the neighbours think.”