H Quotes
Browse famous quotes beginning with H. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.
“He can use even your shortcomings to your advantage. Surrender to Him.”
“He can who thinks he can, and he can't who thinks he can't.”
Source: An Iron Will, He Can Who Thinks He Can & Pushing To The Front (Wisdom & Empowerment Series): How to Achieve Self-Reliance Which Leads to Vigorous Self-Faith, Personal Growth & Success
“He can who thinks he can, and he can't who thinks he can't. This is an inexorable, indisputable law.”
“He can't even be at a casual read and not be creating the whole thing in his mind. I remember feeling very awed about how much he still seems to be so in love with it, and so dedicated to making everything really real and really spontaneous.”
“He can't fly around tall buildings, or outrun a speeding train, the only talent he seems to have is leaving a nasty stain!”
“He can't imagine the result of the mission because he never saw it.”
Source: Self-interviews
“He can't kick with his left foot, he can't head a ball, he can't tackle and he doesn't score many goals. Apart from that he's all right.”
“He can't possibly live up to the person you've built him to be”
Source: Just One Day
“He can't really love anyone, you know, and in the end such people are always alone, no matter how much other people once loved them.”
Source: The Swan Thieves
“He can't remeber who he is or where he lives." "Well that's convenient." "Not when it rains.”
“He can't take back what he said on Twitter, that he will fight me.”
“He cannot "tempt" to virtue as we do to vice. He wants them to learn to walk and must therefore take away His hand; and if only the will to walk is really there He is pleased even with their stumbles.”
Source: The Screwtape Letters: Annotated Edition
“He cannot be a glorious God unless His people ultimately are a glorified people.”
Source: The Power In Praising God
“He cannot be strict in judging, who does not wish others to be strict judges of himself.”
“He cannot be vertuous that is not rigorous.”
Source: The Complete Works of George Herbert: Prose
“He cannot become old, for he has never been young; he cannot become young, for he has already become old; in a way he cannot die, for he has never lived; in a way he cannot live, for he is already dead.”
Source: Either/Or: A Fragment of Life
“He cannot complain of a hard sentence, who is made master of his own fate.”
“He cannot endure Rachel, because he knows she has a proper appreciation of him.”
Source: The Tenant of Wildfell Hall
“He cannot forgive himself for having saved himself when his wife and child went to their deaths we are all as if drugged. Yesterday all of my family were living and now - all are dead. Each of us stands as if turn to stone. I weep for my fate, for what I have left to see.”
Source: The Last Jew of Treblinka
“He cannot have God for his Father who will not have the Church for his mother.”
“He cannot recall just when that initial feeling of oneness faded, subordinated to the everyday activities of daily living. He is disappointed to realize he can no longer expect to find her up and awaiting his return. Discard 2”
“He cannot steal by joy, sweetling...That is beyond his power. Because it is our good Father who gives it. Who loves us so much that He gave all for us. His suffering was so much more than ours can ever be. So when we suffer--and we all will, in this life--it can make us more like Him.”
Source: An Honorable Deception
“He cannot think. He can scarcely breathe. But he has no desire to either, he simply wants to keep kissing her.”
Source: Secret of the Sands
“He cannot trust himself. If he is an island, he is a volcanic one. Alone in a troubled sea.”
Source: In Limbo
“He cannot will his entry into and exit from the activity on a daily basis. There is not, as there is for most workers, a brief interval of exemption at the end of the day when he is permitted to enact a wholly different set of gestures; the timing of his eventual exit will by determined not by his own will but by the end of the war, whether that comes in days, months, or years, and there is of course a very high probability that even when the war ends he will never exit from it. Although in all forms of work the worker mixes himself with and eventually becomes inseparable from the materials of his labor (an inseparability that has only its most immediate sign the residues which coat his body, the coal beneath the skin of his arm, the spray of grain in his hair, the ink on his fingers), the boy in war is, to an extent, found in almost no other form of work, inextricably bound up with the men and materials of his labor: he will learn to perceive himself as he will be perceived by others, as indistinguishable from the men of his unit, regiment, division, and above all national group (all of whom will share the same name: he is German) as he is also inextricably bound up with the qualities and conditions – berry laden or snow laden - of the ground over which he walks or runs or crawls and with which he craves and courts identification, as in the camouflage postures he adopts, now running bent over parallel with the ground it is his work to mime, now arching forward conforming the curve of his back to the curve of a companion boulder, now standing as upright and still and narrow as the slender tree behind which he hides; he is the elms and the mud, he is the one hundred and sixth, he is a small piece of German terrain broken off and floating dangerously through the woods of France. He is a fragment of American earth wedged into an open hillside in Korea and reworked by its unbearable sun and rain. He is dark blue like the sea. He is light grey like the air through which he flies. He is sodden in the green shadows of earth. He is a light brown vessel of red Australian blood that will soon be opened and emptied across the rocks and ridges of Gallipoli from which he can never again become distinguishable.”
Source: The Body in Pain: The Making and Unmaking of the World
“He can’t ground her if he’s already killed her,” I pointed out when Juliana quoted this to me. “Well, he can, but it wouldn’t have the same impact.”
“He capers, he dances, he has eyes of youth, he writes verses, he speaks holiday, he smells April and May.”
“He, captivated by youth and beauty, and that appearance of good humour which youth and beauty generally give, had married a woman whose weak understanding and illiberal mind had very early in their marriage put an end to all real affection for her. Respect, esteem and confidence had vanished forever; and all his views of domestic happiness were overthrown.”
Source: Pride and Prejudice
“He captured my chin, holding me firm. “You are me. And I am you. We might have separate thoughts and minds, Buttercup, but we have the same heart and soul.”
Source: Sin & Suffer
“he captured my heart so profoundly, I couldn't even write the words to say.”
“He captured my heart. He loves me for who I am, not what I can bring to him." - Lucinda Price, Rapture”
“he card companies will often, as a courtesy, honor that credit card, but hit you with a penalty. And you keep swiping your card for $3 at Starbucks for your latté, and you're getting hit with a $25 penalty because it's over your credit limit.”
“He cared for languages dead long enough that they wouldn’t change on him.”
Source: The Raven Boys
“He cared less, so they cared more. He said it was beautiful. I knew he was broken.This was his game.”
“He cared only about people; he was scarcely conscious of places except for their weather, until they had been invested with color by tangible events.”
Source: Tender is the Night
“He carefully maintained the blasé air of one who had been here before and had been incredibly well dressed that time too”
Source: What Really Happened in Peru
“He carefully poured the juice into a bowl and rinsed the scallops to remove any sand caught between the tender white meat and the firmer coral-colored roe, wrapped around it like a socialite's fur stole.
Mayur is the kind of cook (my kind), who thinks the chef should always have a drink in hand. He was making the scallops with champagne custard, so naturally the rest of the bottle would have to disappear before dinner. He poured a cup of champagne into a small pot and set it to reduce on the stove. Then he put a sugar cube in the bottom of a wide champagne coupe (Lalique, service for sixteen, direct from the attic on my mother's last visit). After a bit of a search, he found the crème de violette in one of his shopping bags and poured in just a dash. He topped it up with champagne and gave it a swift stir.
"To dinner in Paris," he said, glass aloft.
'To the chef," I answered, dodging swiftly out of the way as he poured the reduced champagne over some egg yolks and began whisking like his life depended on it.
"Do you have fish stock?"
"Nope."
"Chicken?"
"Just cubes. Are you sure that will work?"
"Sure. This is the Mr. Potato Head School of Cooking," he said. "Interchangeable parts. If you don't have something, think of what that ingredient does, and attach another one."
I counted, in addition to the champagne, three other bottles of alcohol open in the kitchen. The boar, rubbed lovingly with a paste of cider vinegar, garlic, thyme, and rosemary, was marinating in olive oil and red wine. It was then to be seared, deglazed with hard cider, roasted with whole apples, and finished with Calvados and a bit of cream. Mayur had his nose in a small glass of the apple liqueur, inhaling like a fugitive breathing the air of the open road.
As soon as we were all assembled at the table, Mayur put the raw scallops back in their shells, spooned over some custard, and put them ever so briefly under the broiler- no more than a minute or two. The custard formed a very thin skin with one or two peaks of caramel. It was, quite simply, heaven.
The pork was presented neatly sliced, restaurant style, surrounded with the whole apples, baked to juicy, sagging perfection.”
Source: Lunch in Paris: A Love Story, with Recipes
“He carefully studies the position that he intends to conquer.”
“He cares about the people involved, but I don't think he's a big football fan.”
“He cares about you, Celes. I’m not going to deny that. He’ll do whatever it takes to get you to safety. Just remember that I would too.”, Grayson in FADE by Kailin Gow”
Source: Fade
“He caressed her face and pulled her into a tight, desperate hug. She held him back just as tightly because she knew in her heart that it was the last time she'd let him this close to her.”
Source: Willing to Wait
“He caressed my cheek. "You came for me," I whispered. "Always," he told me.”
Source: Magic Strikes
“He caressed the side of her jaw with his fingertips, sending a light shiver down her spine. "I should warn you that if we lose the paper, we'll have to sell the house.”
“That’s fine.”
“And the furniture.”
“I don’t care.”
“And—“
“We can pawn, sell, and trade off everything we own… but if you dare say one thing about my diamond, you’ll regret it for the rest of your married life. This ring is mine, and it's not leaving my finger."
He grinned at her vehemence. "I wasn’t going to say anything about your ring, honey.” Bending down to kiss her, he left wet handprints on the waist and bodice of her gown, but Lucy was too enthralled by his hearty kiss to protest.
"You taste like coffee," she whispered when his lips left hers.
"I could do with more."
"Coffee or kisses?"
"Always more kisses . . .”
Source: Love, Come to Me
“He carried a pipe in his left hand, and as he examined Will at his leisure, he exhaled sending a cloud of sweet-smelling, cough-induced smoke. 'Finally broke down and admitted you're in love with me, have you?'He inquired of Will. 'I do enjoy these suprise midnight declarations.' He leaned against the doorway and waved a languid ringed hand. "Go along, have at it.”
“He carried her over the Owl Creek mountain range without stopping,” he said, quietly this time. “He carried her until he reached one of the hot springs around what became Chapin, and then he walked into the water with her and held her there for three days. He had about given up when she opened her eyes and whispered his name.”
Source: Glass Girl
“He carried his childhood like a hurt warm bird held to his middle-aged breast.”
Source: The Age of Happy Problems
“He carried me, my legs wrapped around him, and moved in and out of me, stroked me as he walked around the room.”
Source: One Night
“He carried on painting those skulls, because then it flet like Christian was still alive in his fingertips. Perhaps its like that for you too. Art is what we leave of ourselves in other people.”
“He carried Paul inside and up the stairs. He gave him a drink of water and the orange chewable aspirin he like and sat with him on the bed, holding his hand...This was what he yearned to capture on film: these rare moments where the world seemed unified, coherent, everything contained in a single fleeting image. A spareness that held beauty and hope and motion - a kind of silvery poetry, just as the body was poetry in blood and flesh and bone.”
“He carried so much suffering that it radiated out in waves. Sorrow is like that: whenever a person runs, it comes after him; it leaves an endless trail of pain.”
Source: The River King