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H Quotes

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

All H Quotes

“HE FELL DOWN HARD—stone-cold dead, next to my feet. It didn’t take much—just a pull of the trigger. The way I figured; a bullet always had its way of settling things. It asked no questions. Just did what it was told. And I hadn’t planned on resolving my disagreement with the Thin Man that way. But he left me no choice. He pulled his Luger, deciding that one of his .28s was the only way to resolve the issue. Trouble was, he missed. But a .22 from my Colt didn’t.”

“He fell in love with Manhattan's skyline, like a first-time brothel guest falling for a seasoned professional. He mused over her reflections in the black East River at dusk, dawn, or darkest night, and each haloed light-in a tower or strung along the jeweled and sprawling spider legs of the Brooklyn Bridge's spans-hinted at some meaning, which could be understood only when made audible by music and encoded in lyrics.”

“He fell in October 1918, on a day that was so quiet and still on the whole front, that the army report confined itself to the single sentence: All quiet on the Western Front. He had fallen forward and lay on the earth as though sleeping. Turning him over one saw that he could not have suffered long; his face had an expression of calm, as though almost glad the end had come.”

“He fell on his back and lay there, staring stupidly up at the sky. Then he began to tremble with fear. In the blue curve of the sky he saw a great rent, a cleft which, he perceived, was an open, gaping wound. The two irregular edges were jagged as though it had been made with something blunt, something which had first cut and then ripped and torn. Here and there shreds of the flesh, still attached to the edges, stuck out across the wound, obscuring whatever was behind. All that he could see in the suppurating depth of the wound was blood and pus, a glistening, viscous, uneven surface like a marsh. The edges were messy too, fringed all along with blood and yellow matter on which flies were walking. As he stared in horror, the dead body of a rabbit fell out of the wound, but disappeared as it fell. To El-ahrairah’s distraught eyes, the whole gash seemed to be slowly moving, two parted lips descending to close over him and draw him in.”

“He felt ... a suspicion-no, a conviction-than he had been abandoned, forgotten, and that no one in the whole world cared or would ever care enough about him to really find out what he was like and what his dreams were. He was an outcast, a creature somehow vastly different from all other people, an object of scorn and derision, an outsider, secretly loathed and ridiculed by everyone who met him, even by those few who professed to love him.”

“He felt a little cheated. He'd fallen in love with a rootless girl who wanted nothing but to pack a bag of plimsolls and jeans and go on any adventure he took her on. Who embroidered his initials into jumpers and spent the entirety of a party locked in a bathroom with him, sitting in the empty bath, staring at his face with eyes like saucers. He ended up with a woman with her own adult identity and a preoccupation with her work. I felt our relationship had been one of the most enriching experiences of my life, and I knew he would always be a huge part of the person I'd become, but we had outgrown each other. I knew I had to let him go, so he could be with someone who really wanted to be in a relationship, with all the love and commitment he deserved.”

“He felt a little less paranoid, and Cole was right—they weren’t boys. They were men capable of taking care of their own. It came down to him wanting to do their dirty work for them. But they were good. They’d be fine. Instead he needed to work on getting the violence out of his system. It was his go-to drug. He actually couldn’t think of a conflict he hadn’t fought or killed his way out of. To stand in front of Eve again, he needed to handle himself differently.”

“He felt all the torment of his and her position, all the difficulties they were surrounded by in consequence of their station in life, which exposed them to the eyes of the whole world, obliged them to hide their love, to lie and deceive, and again to lie and deceive, to scheme and constantly think about others while the passion that bound them was so strong that they both forgot everything but their love.”

“He felt around desperately for a weapon. What did he have? Diapers? Cookies? Oh, why hadn't they given him a sword? He was the stupid warrior, wasn't he? His fingers dug in the leather bag and closed around the root beer can. Root beer! He yanked out the can shaking it with all his might. "Attack! Attack!" he yelled.”

“He felt as he always did when he finished a book—queerly empty, let down, aware that for each little success he had paid a toll of absurdity. It was always the same, always the same—like toiling uphill through jungle and breaking out to a clearing at the top after months of hell only to discover nothing more rewarding than a view of a freeway—with a few gas stations and bowling alleys thrown in for good behavior, or something.”

“He felt as if he'd been connected to something he didn't understand, plugged into a universe too vast to grasp. Now he was the one who was scared. "Rex, is it true what Geith says? That we're all guilty of using you?" She was distraught. He could heat the rasping wild undertone in her voice. "That we're all following orders blindly and not asking questions?" Rex felt his world beginning to unravel. If he let Ahsoka go too far down that path—no, if he let himself go down that path, then he wouldn't be able to do the job, and if he didn't do this job, then he had no idea what his life was about. If he let that doubt take hold, he would never be able to deal with Skywalker again, or be able to lead his men. And he had to lead them because they depended on him. His whole existence depended on believing in what he was doing. The little nagging voice that he tried to ignore was actually being more constructive this time. Don't even think about it, the voice said. Because you can't change a thing. So what if it's true? Where are you going to go? What else could you do? And what would happen to your men? Some things were so overwhelming and beyond your control that simply noticing they were there would destroy you. Rex decided he could shut it out. He could shut out anything if he put his mind to it. "I don't know," he said at last. "You said orders were there for a reason. That they kept us alive." "That's true." "Jedi have orders as well. Like no attachments. And... well, you've seen Callista and Geith. Master Altis lets all his Jedi marry if they want. But they've not fallen to the dark side, so what's really true?" The best Rex could do was help her live with uncertainty. He couldn't tell her what was true. And the fact that the Seps were trying to kill them—that was true. Did the rest matter? Pull one brick out of the wall, and the whole edifice comes crashing down. For any of us. "Remember how I said that you don't always have the bigger picture, that you get your orders because someone higher up the chain of command has information that you don't, so they don't necessarily make sense? Maybe your orders are like that." It wasn't a lie. It might not of been what Rex actually wanted to say—I don't understand what's happening, I don't like what's happening, something's wrong—but if he said that, then he was adrift, too, and that didn't help anybody stay alive.”

“He felt as if he has heard similar stories before. The wimp at school had grown to become stronger than the bully. And by some devious twist of fate, he would pop back into your life years later and take his revenge in the most unimaginable ways, and make sure that you suffer as much, or more, than he ever did before.”

“He felt as if there were something missing inside him that didn't fit in with their merriment, with their willing ignorance of the world outside the castle. It went beyond his title. He had enjoyed their company early in his adolescence, but it had become apparent that he'd always be a step away. The worst of it was that they didn't seem to notice he was different- or that he felt different. Were it not for Chaol, he would have felt immensely lonely.”