H Quotes
Browse famous quotes beginning with H. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.
“He overheard the director talking to one of the cameramen. The cameraman was explaining that he couldn’t get a good long shot on the exterior because someone had set up a fake graveyard right in the plaza.
“Kids just playing around, I guess, but it’s morbid; we’ll have to get rid of it, maybe bring in some sod to—”
“No,” Albert said.
“We’re almost ready for you,” the director assured him.
“That’s not a fake graveyard. Those aren’t fake graves. No one was playing around.”
“You’re saying those . . . those are actually . . .”
“What do you think happened here?” Albert asked in a soft voice. “What do you think this was?” Absurdly, embarrassingly, he had started to cry. “Those are kids buried there. Some of them were torn apart, you know. By coyotes. By . . . by bad people. Shot. Crushed. Like that. Some of those kids in the ground there couldn’t take it, the hunger and the fear . . . some of those kids out there had to be cut down from the ropes they used to hang themselves. Early on, when we still had any animals? I had a crew go out and hunt down cats. Cats and dogs and rats. Kill them. Other kids to skin them . . . cook them up.”
There were a dozen crew people in the McDonald’s. None spoke or moved.
Albert brushed away tears and sighed. “Yeah. So don’t mess with the graves. Okay? Other than that, we’re good to go.”
Source: Light
“He owe his wife a debt he couldn't hope to pay with any coin save one: open the cage and let the bird fly.”
Source: The Touch
“He owned a whole world full of memories, of lovely moments relived and happy recollections. I'm not saying he was happy or that he didn't suffer. He suffered very much, but he did not despair; he still drew nourishment from what he had been given. But the sadness never left him. Happiness needs more than memories of the past to feed on; it also needs dreams of the future.”
“He owned an expensive camera that required thought before you pressed the shutter, and I quickly became his favorite subject, round-faced, missing teeth, my thick bangs in need of a trim. They are still the pictures of myself I like best, for they convey that confidence of youth I no longer possess, especially in front of a camera.”
“He owns me, and I have no one to blame but myself.”
Source: Desperate Measures
“He oído contar que ciertos delincuentes, asistiendo a un espectáculo teatral, se han sentido a veces profundamente impresionados por el solo hechizo de la escena, que en el acto han revelado sus delitos.”
Source: Hamlet
“He oído contar que el gallo, trompeta de la mañana, despierta al dios del día con alta y aguda voz de su garganta sonora y que a esta señal los espíritus que vagan errantes, ya se encuentren en el agua o en el fuego, en la tierra o en el aire, huyen presurosos a su región.”
Source: Hamlet
“He oído que para los mortales, la sensación de enamorarse es muy parecida a la sensación de miedo. Tu corazón late rápido. Tus sentidos se intensifican. Te sientes aturdido, tal vez incluso mareado.”
Source: The Wicked King
“He oído que para los mortales, la sensación de enamorarse es muy parecida a la sensación de miedo. Tu corazón late rápido. Tus sentidos se intensifican. Te sientes aturdido, tal vez incluso mareado. ¿No es cierto? Explicaría mucho sobre los de tu clase si es posible confundir los dos.”
Source: The Wicked King
“He paid her only the compliment of attention; and she felt a respect for him on the occasion, which the others had reasonably forfeited by their shameless want of taste.”
Source: Sense and Sensibility
“He paid me to discover ways to express the unnameable; to get to the bottom of an utterance; to find words for the things for which there were no words yet, thereby bringing them into existence, committing them to paper, projecting them into the future. The work was part drudgery, part deity.”
Source: Like Being Killed
“He paid the check and I objected. Alex was a waiter and, for better or worse, I was pretty sure I made quite a lot more than he did. But I didn’t press the issue because my objection was met with an insulted glare and stony silence.
Usually I don’t dispute or offer to go halfsies. Maybe I’m old-fashioned, maybe it’s because my father brainwashed me, or maybe I’m a free-loading cow who is a blight on feminist principles, but I typically staunchly believe the man should pay for dinner, especially if it’s early in the relationship.”
Source: Love Hacked
“He painted trees as by some special divining instinct of their essential qualities. He understood them. He knew why in an oak forest, for instance, each individual was utterly distinct from its fellows, and why no two beeches in the whole world were alike. People asked him down to paint a favorite lime or silver birch, for he caught the individuality of a tree as some catch the individuality of a horse. How he managed it was something of a puzzle, for he never had painting lessons, his drawing was often wildly inaccurate, and, while his perception of a Tree Personality was true and vivid, his rendering of it might almost approach the ludicrous. Yet the character and personality of that particular tree stood there alive beneath his brush—shining, frowning, dreaming, as the case might be, friendly or hostile, good or evil. It emerged.”
Source: Pan’s Garden: a Volume of Nature Stories
“He painted until his cursive brushes were only whispers of rawness on the thin ivory. Only the walls and the ravens that watched
knew the boy with the paint-stained palms weaved his art onto his sketchpad on the park bench at lunchtimes, and only the trees
whispered it like a prayer.”
Source: The Light that Binds Us
“He painted with the brain, and he could not help knowing that the only painting worth anything was done with the heart. (375)”
“He paints a dolphin in the woods, a boar in the waves.”
“He pares his apple that will cleanly feed.”
Source: The English poems of George Herbert, together with his collection of proverbs entitled Jacula prudentum
“He parked his car carefully, made sure he'd set all the locks and the alarm. On the steps he kept looking behind him, snapping glances into shadows like he expected this to be a set-up with my gang waiting to roll him. Nervous. But I got this feeling the possibility of danger was all part of it for him. What he wanted was something with an edge to it, something stamped as unmistakable bad.
Welcome to the club, dude.”
Source: High Life
“He parted from him on the usual terms outwardly, but he felt obscurely abused by Fulkerson in regard to the Dryfooses, father and son. He did not know but Fulkerson had taken an advantage of him in allowing him to commit himself to their enterprise with out fully and frankly telling him who and what his backer was; he perceived that with young Dryfoos as the publisher and Fulkerson as the general director of the paper there might be very little play for his own ideas of its conduct. Perhaps it was the hurt to his vanity involved by the recognition of this fact that made him forget how little choice he really had in the matter, and how, since he had not accepted the offer to edit the insurance paper, nothing remained for him but to close with Fulkerson. In this moment of suspicion and resentment he accused Fulkerson of hastening his decision in regard to the Grosvenor Green apartment; he now refused to consider it a decision, and said to himself that if he felt disposed to do so he would send Mrs. Green a note reversing it in the morning. But he put it all off till morning with his clothes, when he went to bed, he put off even thinking what his wife would say; he cast Fulkerson and his constructive treachery out of his mind, too, and invited into it some pensive reveries of the past, when he still stood at the parting of the ways, and could take this path or that. In his middle life this was not possible; he must follow the path chosen long, ago, wherever, it led. He was not master of himself, as he once seemed, but the servant of those he loved; if he could do what he liked, perhaps he might renounce this whole New York enterprise, and go off somewhere out of the reach of care; but he could not do what he liked, that was very clear. In the pathos of this conviction he dwelt compassionately upon the thought of poor old Lindau; he resolved to make him accept a handsome sum of money—more than he could spare, something that he would feel the loss of—in payment of the lessons in German and fencing given so long ago. At the usual rate for such lessons, his debt, with interest for twenty-odd years, would run very far into the hundreds. Too far, he perceived, for his wife's joyous approval; he determined not to add the interest; or he believed that Lindau would refuse the interest; he put a fine speech in his mouth, making him do so; and after that he got Lindau employment on 'Every Other Week,' and took care of him till he died.”
Source: A Hazard of New Fortunes
“He particularly liked about making students safe for ideas, not ideas safe for students.”
“He pasado la mayor parte de mi vida adulta posando a cambio de un fajo de billetes por hora, luciendo ropa y zapatos, bien peinada delante de un fotógrafo de moda que me dice lo que debo sentir.”
Source: Invisible Monsters
“He pasado tres días extraños: el mar, la playa, los caminos me fueron trayendo recuerdos de otros tiempos. No sólo imágenes: también voces, gritos y largos silencios de otros días. Es curioso, pero vivir consiste en construir futuros recuerdos; ahora mismo, aquí frente al mar, sé que estoy preparando recuerdos minuciosos, que alguna vez me traerán la melancolía y la desesperanza.”
Source: El Túnel
“He pasado tres días extraños: el mar, la playa, los caminos me fueron trayendo recuerdos de otros tiempos. No sólo imágenes: también voces, gritos y largos silencios de otros días. Es curioso, pero vivir consiste en construir futuros
recuerdos; ahora mismo, aquí frente al mar, sé que estoy preparando recuerdos minuciosos, que alguna vez me traerán la melancolía y la desesperanza. El mar está ahí, permanente y rabioso. Mi llanto de entonces, inútil; también inútiles mis esperas en la playa solitaria, mirando tenazmente al mar”
Source: El Túnel
“He pass'd the flaming bounds of place and time: The living throne, the sapphire blaze, Where angels tremble while they gaze, He saw; but blasted with excess of light, Closed his eyes in endless night.”
“He passed a hair salon called Snip Away, which sounded more like a vasectomy clinic than a beauty parlor. The Snip Away beauticians were either reformed mall girls or guys named Mario whose fathers were named Sal. Two patrons sat in a window - one getting a perm, the other a bleach job. Who wanted that? Who wanted to sit in a window and have the whole world watch you get your hair done?”
Source: Back Spin
“He passed his hands over some of the fine embossed bindings as he thought, I am a book also, words and thoughts and stories held together by flesh. We open and close ourselves to the world. We are read by others or put away by them. We wait to be seen, sitting quietly on shelves for someone to bother having a look inside us.”
Source: Death Watch
“He passed over Dor-nu-Fauglith like a wind amid the dust, and all that beheld his onset fled in amaze, thinking that Oromë himself was come: for a great madness of rage was upon him, so that his eyes shone like the eyes of the Valar. Thus he came alone to Angband's gates, and he sounded his horn, and smote once more upon the brazen doors, and challenged Morgoth to come forth to single combat. And Morgoth came.”
“He passed the first six houses with sadness rather than distaste. They tried so hard, he thought. The Crescent in Edinburgh had been a row of houses all very much alike, too. But similarity, when it has money behind it, becomes a solid wall of convention, of permanence, even of defiance. Similarity, conceived and born in poverty, becomes an inferiority complex.”
Source: Friends and Lovers
“He passed the rutabaga and duck terrine toward me with the tips of his fingers. "Isn't this a little odd?"
I wanted to like it, I did. I pushed the ingredients around with my knife and fork, trying to understand it and formulate an opinion.
Then Felix swooped in. "Oh, miss. Pardon me, I was helping another table. That's supposed to be served with something else." He looked at Michael Saltz sheepishly, and Michael Saltz turned his toupeed head away. "We added this dish today, and I'm still getting used to serving it. The proper preparation includes just a bit of truffle."
He took out a fist-size beige knot from underneath a white napkin. The shavings rained down in ruffled, translucent strands. Felix backed away as I poked my fork through the tangle of truffles, into the terrine.
I had read about truffles- their taste, their hormonal, almost sexual aromas, their exorbitant cost- but I had never even seen a truffle in person before, and had a hard time understanding why people paid thousands of dollars an ounce for something so humble-looking.
But at Tellicherry, I understood. I melted in my chair.
"Mmm..." I couldn't stop saying it. "Mmmm."
Michael Saltz, excited too, picked up a large pinch of truffle shavings and held them to his nose. "These are very good. The finest."
"Oh God," I said, in a state of delirium. "This makes the dish so much better. Why aren't truffles on everything?" I had forgotten about the funky terrine. Now it was just a vehicle for the magical urgings of the truffle.
A few minutes later, Felix came out again. "Here's your next dish, potato pearls with black, green, and crimson caviar in a cauliflower cream nage."
The caviar shined like little jewels among the equal-sized potatoes. They bobbed around in the soup, glistening as if illuminated from within. I took a spoonful and in surged a soft, sweet ribbon of cauliflower essence. I popped the caviar eggs one by one. Pop, went one, a silken fishiness. Pop, went another, a sharp, tangy brine. Pop, went a seductive one, dark and mysterious and deep.”
Source: Food Whore
“He passes from lyric to epic poetry in order to speak about the world and the torment in the world through man, rationally and emotionally. The poet then becomes a danger.”
“He passes the cigarette, grunting softly and pretending to be very interested in the skeleton eavesdropping on their heart-to-heart.
She softly slaps his shoulder. “Don’t make those caveman sounds at me. You know I’m right.”
“Yeah, but have you ever called your mama out on anything?”
“Never had to. She’s always been right,” she says, squaring her shoulders and smiling slyly.
He laughs.”
Source: Blackpines: The Antlers Witch: The Black Tree Chaise
“He passes through life most securely who has least reason to reproach himself with complaisance toward his enemies.”
“He passes, struck by the stare of truculent Wellington but in the convex mirror grin unstruck the bonham eyes and fatchuck cheekchops of Jollypoldy the rixdix doldy.”
Source: Ulysses
“He paused a foot away, and frowned. 'Dresses aren't good for flying, ladies.'
Nesta didn't reply.
He lifted a brow. 'No barking and biting today?'
But Nesta didn't rise to meet him, her face still drained and sallow. 'I've never worn pants,' was all she said.
I could have sworn concern flashed across Cassian's features. But he brushed it aside and drawled. 'I have no doubt you'd start a riot if you did.”
Source: A Court of Wings and Ruin
“He paused; a grim silence gripped the whole clearing, broken by a contemptious Rumble from Tigerstar. "Mew away, little kittypet. It won't change anything."
Firestar ignored him. "Being deputy wasn't enough," he went on. "Tigerstar wanted to be leader of the clan. He set a trap for Bluestar by the Thunderpath, but my own apprentice strayed into it instead. That's how Cinderpelt came by her crippled leg."
A shocked murmer swept through the clearing. Except for Bloodclan, they all knew of Cinderpelt, she was popular even with cats of other clans.
Then Tigerstar conspired with Brokentail, the fomer leader of ShadowClan, who was ThunderClan's prisoner," Firestar told the listening cats. "He brought a pack of rogues into ThunderClan camp, and tried to murder Bluestar with his own claws. I stopped him, and when ThunderClan had beaten off the attack we drove him into excile. As a rogue, he slaughtered, Runningwind. Then before we knew what he was up too, he had made himself leader of ShadowClan.”
“He paused again as a tear of longing rolled from cheek to lip with the sweet-salty taste of an old memory.”
Source: The phantom tollbooth
“He paused and eyed her as if she were an agate discovered in gravel. "But what a very sharp tongue you have for a housekeeper."
Bridget's heart sank- she knew better than to speak so frankly. It was never good for a servant to be noticed by a master- particularly this master.
"Come." He beckoned her closer with his forefinger and she saw the flash of a jeweled gold ring on his left thumb.
She swallowed and opened her right hand, silently dropping the miniature to the lush carpet. As she walked toward him she nudged the little painting under the enormous bed with the side of her foot.
She stopped a pace away from him.
His lips curved, sly and sensual. "Closer."
She stepped nearer until her plain, practical black linsey-woolsey skirts were crushed against his purple velvet knees. Her heart beat hard and swift, but she was confident her expression didn't show her fear.
Still smiling, he held out his hands, palms upward. His hands were long-fingered and elegant. The hands of a musician- or a swordsman.
She stared down at them a moment, confused.
He quirked an eyebrow and nodded.
Bridget placed her hands on top of his. Palm to palm. She expected searing heat or deathly cold and was a little surprised to instead feel human warmth.
She'd been hired little more than a fortnight before the duke had supposedly been banished. In that time he had never struck her as human- or humane.
"Ah," His Grace murmured, cocking his head with interest. "What feminine hands you have, despite your station in life."
His blue eyes flashed at her from under dark eyelashes, a secretive smile playing about his mouth.
She met his gaze stonily.
His lips quirked and he looked down again. "Small, plump, with neat, round nails." He turned her hands over so that they now rested palms-up in his. "I once knew a Greek girl who swore she could read a man's life story from the lines on his hands." He dropped her left hand to trace the lines on her right palm with a forefinger.
His touch sent a frisson along her nerves and Bridget couldn't hold back a shudder.”
Source: Duke of Sin
“He paused and let out a little sigh. Then I’m saying it wrong, because it has everything to do with you. I want what Hades and Persephone had, and I can’t do it without you. The only time the queen of the Everneath has been overthrown is when an Everliving has found his perfect match. I’ve spent my whole life - and it’s a long one, trust me - looking for my perfect match, and it’s you. I knew you were different from the first moment I met you. The first moment you placed your hands on mine. You remember?”
Source: Everneath
“He paused and looked up at her with the gleam of a predator in his gaze. She shivered at the intensity, more than happy to be his prey.”
Source: Dangerous Protector
“He paused and manufactured a chuckle.”
Source: Hoot
“He paused and rubbed his beard. Good God, she’d play a gif of that over and over, if she could.”
Source: Man Down
“He paused and turned beside a column on the porch, one hand propped against it. He stared, absorbing me like osmosis, soaking in my molecules through the air. Determination decorated every line of his face. My skin tingled, goosebumps spreading up my bare arms, dancing behind my neck. The kind of goosebumps you get right before a thunderstorm. Or something equally electrifying.
“I’ll see you on Thursday.” His voice had lost the heaviness yet was no less forceful. No less intense. “Be ready for me.”
Source: Parks and Provocation
“He paused as his eyes went Elsewhere. His mouth hung open uncharacteristically in an odd moment of hesitation.
But then he spoke: “I dreamt one night that I stood before the Conjurer of All. I do not know if this Conjurer was God, per se , but let us entertain the possibility that there exists, at least encoded in the patterned mechanisms of the human mind, a necessary and indelible embodiment therein that is simultaneously the Creator of the Universe and the Forger of All Things Within It The Knower of All there is to Know, to say the least. I stood uncomfortably before such an entity and this Conjurer spoke thus, ‘Seeker of Truth!’ His words were oppressive, yet assuring, ‘Now it can all be told! Now you may have all the answers you seek. All the answers of the Universe!’ This proclamation only satisfied me briefly, for I almost immediately found myself responding, ‘Dear Conjurer, I do not wish to sound ungrateful, but instead of all the answers, may I not have more
questions? An endless supply even? For all else would seem insufficient. I could never face a world that lacked mystery.’ The Maker laughed as though I had told the only joke in the Universe in which he could find humor. I awoke immediately, out of breath, for I, too, had been laughing.”
Source: Inward and Toward
“He paused at the door, hand on the knob, and turned to look at her. His eyes, behind the glasses, looked more tired than angry now. "You really want to know what else it was my mom said about you?" he asked.
She shook her head.
He didn't seem to notice. "She said you'd break my heart," he told her, and left. The door closed with a decided click, and Clary was alone”
Source: City of Bones
“He paused by the window, looking up into a lavender sky, fingers pressed against the icy glass. No stars tonight; the snowflakes came down out of the dark, rushing towards him, endless, uncountable. Silent, too, but not like the stars. Falling snow whispered secrets to itself.
“And you are a fanciful idiot,” he said outloud.”
Source: Lord John and the Brotherhood of the Blade
“He paused by
Theo's door, knocked with his free hand.
"Get lost, creep."
David looked down at Maddy. "I assume he means you." He”
Source: The Villa
“He paused for a minute and I could feel him trembling. “I love you,” he whispered against my skin and then his teeth, broke through.”
Source: Blur
“He paused, his smug grin turning wicked as his eyes met mine. “We could always have sex. I hear that uses up a lot of energy.”
Source: Obsidian
“He paused in the hallway, sniffing the air. He scowled, sniffed some more. He pressed an intercom button on the wall.
"Betty, I distinctly smell sewage. Could you get a plumber out here ASAP?"
Several curly hairs fluttered in the air after he was gone.
I clutched at the arm of the dentist chair.
"This isn't a joke, Tub! I'm in trouble. We're all in trouble, the whole town, the whole world! You have no clue. You have no idea what kind of things we're dealing with here. There's a whole land of --”
Source: Trollhunters
“He paused, looked thoughtfully at her over the cafe table. 'And do I seem unspeakably old?'
She searched for an answer. 'Not old. Different. Like a book with more pages. Ones that I haven't read - and can't read.”
Source: Consequences