H Quotes
Browse famous quotes beginning with H. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.
“He paused, then said: “It’s going to be very lonely, too.”
“No, no,” she smiled, and grabbed his hand, almost rubbing against him, “there used to be only dead people in that valley, and of course you were alone; but from now on, I’ll be there with you! You will never be alone again!”
Source: Zhuyan (With Prequel of Mirror) 朱颜
“He paused, then said: “It’s going to be very lonely, too.”
“No, no,” she smiled, and grabbed his hand, almost rubbing against him, “there used to be only dead people in that valley, and of course you were alone; but from now on, I’ll be there with you! You will never be alone again!”
His hands were cold, but for the first time there was a glimpse of warmth in the boy’s eyes.”
Source: Zhuyan (With Prequel of Mirror) 朱颜
“He paused to kiss me and I think he meant it as a dash or an ellipsis or some other temporary punctuation, but I pressed up on my toes and made it an exclamation point.”
Source: The Boy Next Story
“He paused, twisting his goatee, considering the law in Deuteronomy that forbade clothes with mixed fibers. A problematic bit of Scripture. A matter that required thought. "Only the devil wants man to have a wide range of lightweight and comfortable styles to choose from," he murmured at last, trying out a new proverb. "Although there may be no forgiveness for polyester. On this one matter, Satan and the Lord are in agreement.”
“He pauses for only a fraction of a second. Then he leans forward and presses his lips to mine, and the whole world powers off, the moon and the rain and the sky and the streets, and it’s just the two of us in the dark, alive, alive, alive.”
Source: Before I Fall
“He pauses then, studying me. “How would you have done it?”
His question surprises me. “You mean how would I have killed you?”
“Yes. Do you have a favorite method for such things?”
Since he knows I am an assassin, there is no need to be coy. “I prefer a garrote. I like the intimacy it allows me when I whisper reminders of vengeance in their ears as they die. But in your case, I had sharpened my favorite knife especially for the occasion.”
His brows quirk up. “Why no garrote for me?”
I look pointedly at his thick neck, bulging with muscle and sinew. “I do not have one big enough,” I mutter.”
“He pauses when he finishes undoing the last button, then closes his eyes. I can see the pain slashed across his face, and the sight tears at me. The Republic's most wanted criminal is just a boy, sitting before me, suddenly vulnerable, laying all his weaknesses out for me to see.”
“he pays his respect
by smiling at you
when others are looking
how he calls you a bitch
right after is truly amazing”
Source: The Coffee Cries Foul
“He peeled the towel that imprisoned us away and let it fall. I felt it slide softly off my backside, and I felt, too, his rising excite¬ment, hard, erect, pressing against me.
My nipples were erect, straining, aching, pressed against his strong warm damp chest, the tangle and pattern of his hair. He was a beast, an animal. My excitement was rising again, to match his. It was as if my heart were about to burst or to flip flop, breathless, into a dark abyss.
“Of course, you are crazy, my darling, but, then, so am I.” He kissed me and his oh-so-clever hands seized my waist, tighten¬ing, and then sneaking up my backside, pulling me, pressing me closer, into him. He kissed me again, and his lips moved down my neck to my shoulder and then to my breasts.
“Oh,” I said, “Oh.”
He bent over me, kissing my collarbone and then my breasts, carefully, slowly, his hands traveling down my back, and over my backside; suddenly, he was on his knees, kissing the whorl of 101
my belly button; then he was forcing me open, gently, gently, his tongue exploring caressing, devouring …
“Oh …” I exhaled a deep, shuddering breath. I tipped on the very edge. He bit me, gently. Oooooh!
He pulled in the reins, the bit and bridle, of the frisky frothing filly that I had become; this sudden halt made me wilder, crazier; then, once again, he brought me, trembling, up to the very, very edge of the cliff – of orgasm, of loss of self.
Then he pulled me back. I blinked and trembled. Around the two of us, there was a whole world, a whole universe. It seemed too vivid to be real, like the backdrop in an opera. Venus was brighter and lower now. The sky had turned deep indigo. One by one, stars appeared.”
Source: The Shaming of Gwendoline C
“He peered into the night-dark windows of the afflicted girls, whispering names and stirring fits into their dreams until their own screams awakened them. The girls concocted fantastic stories of witches and curses and torture at the hands of specters. More accusers joined their ranks without his nurturing, puppets of their own envy. Such imagination, such dedication to the destruction of their own. And all in his name. It touched his dark soul.”
Source: The Timeless Ones
“He peered into the pack and saw two or three more pieces. He could eat them now, but it might be better to wait.”
Source: The Institute
“He penned a letter to the Company in London, a letter whose unfailing spirit would become legendary among the sailors of the East India Company. 'I cannot tell where you should looke for me.' he wrote, 'because I live at the devotion of the winds and seas.'
(Written by/about Captain James Lancaster, on the ship Red Dragon, during a terrible storm, 1603)”
Source: Nathaniel's Nutmeg: How One Man's Courage Changed the Course of History
“He pensado lo siguiente: para que el suceso más trivial se convierta en aventura, es necesario y suficiente contarlo. Es esto lo que engaña a la gente: el hombre es siempre un narrador de historias; vive rodeado de sus historias y trata de vivir su vida como si la contara.
Pero hay que escoger: o vivir o contar.”
Source: La náusea
“He pensado muchas veces en los extraños movimientos de la afectividad. Octavio, si en verdad no quería ninguna relación conmigo, no tenía por qué comunicármelo por teléfono, sino simplemente olvidarme. Luego pensé que la mentalidad de oficinista está muy arraigada y ciertas personas se sienten obligadas a presentar su renuncia.”
“He pensado que quizá te guste esta cita de "Hasta que su muerte nos separe", de Myriam M. Lejardi .
"Jamás he disfrutado del sexo con otra persona, al menos, no como lo disfruta la mayoría de la gente. En mi caso siempre ha tenido que ver con la satisfacción de haberlo conseguido (porque le he interesado a alguien hasta ese punto) y con interpretar bien mi papel. - Sally Anne”
Source: Hasta que su muerte nos separe
“He perceived too in these still hours how little he had understood her hitherto. He had been blinded, — obsessed. He had been seeing her and himself and the whole world far too much as a display of the eternal dualism of sex, the incessant pursuit. Now with his sexual imaginings newly humbled and hopeless, with a realization of her own tremendous minimization of that fundamental of romance, he began to see all that there was in her personality and their possible relations outside that. He saw how gravely and deeply serious was her fine philanthropy, how honest and simple and impersonal her desire for knowledge and understandings. There is the brain of her at least, he thought, far out of Sir Isaac's reach. She wasn't abased by her surrenders, their simplicity exalted her, showed her innocent and himself a flushed and congested soul. He perceived now with the astonishment of a man newly awakened just how the great obsession of sex had dominated him — for how many years? Since his early undergraduate days. Had he anything to put beside her own fine detachment? Had he ever since his manhood touched philosophy, touched a social question, thought of anything human, thought of art, or literature or belief, without a glancing reference of the whole question to the uses of this eternal hunt? During that time had he ever talked to a girl or woman with an unembarrassed sincerity? He stripped his pretences bare; the answer was no. His very refinements had been no more than indicative fig-leaves. His conservatism and morality had been a mere dalliance with interests that too brutal a simplicity might have exhausted prematurely. And indeed hadn't the whole period of literature that had produced him been, in its straining purity and refinement, as it were one glowing, one illuminated fig-leaf, a vast conspiracy to keep certain matters always in mind by conspicuously covering them away? But this wonderful woman — it seemed — she hadn't them in mind! She shamed him if only by her trustful unsuspiciousness of the ancient selfish game of Him and Her that he had been so ardently playing.... He idealized and worshipped this clean blindness. He abased himself before it.”
Source: The Wife of Sir Isaac Harman
“He perdido a mi reina y a mi hijo; ¿perderé también a mi amigo? Las palabras que el rey Caspian graba a fuego en el corazón del lector van dirigidas, es cierto, al fiel Orinian, pero se cuajan en genuinas lágrimas en lo más medular del sentimiento.”
“He permeated my heart with his adoring love he fed my body with his body, he doused my wanting desperate lips, my aching skin with sonnets and erotic intimacy.”
Source: Vine: Book of Poetry
“He picked her up, took her into the bedroom, and placed her on the bed. Wow---it was like a floating cloud.
Ramón reclaimed her lips before his mouth left hers to blaze a path down her body. Heat pooled in her belly as he made his descent. He leaned in to lavish attention on her right nipple, licking around in circle before sucking on it, and then her left. Julieta moaned as he worked his magic. Her buds hardened against the softness of his tongue. She came alive under his mouth, writhing beneath. This entire night seemed like such a fantasy, and it was only going to get better.
His hand caressed her body, and he cupped her ass. She ran her hands through his thick black hair as he guided his mouth down to her panties. Julieta's core throbbed for him.
The sight of his wide shoulders and strong back was almost enough to put her over the edge. She couldn't wait to ravage him---kiss down his chest, pleasure him, but Ramón was in control, and he was focused only on her.
He kissed her belly and settled in between her legs. His lips pressed against her black lace panties, the heat of his mouth igniting her fire. He planted more kisses on her, focusing now on her thighs. Julieta was out of her mind with lust.
"Stop teasing me."
She wanted Ramón's mouth on her, and she wanted it now. She began to remove her panties, but Ramón quickly got the hint and took them off.
He looked up at her, and a devilish grin graced his face. "Tell me what you want, babe."
"Cómeme."
"My pleasure." He began to lick her, starting with her thighs, before lapping in between her lips. Slow and sweet, deep and dirty, Julieta wanted all of him.
Ramón's tongue pressed against her clit, and she gasped, a flash of pleasure overtaking her. "Ah, Ramón."
"You taste so sweet." He hummed against her, and she ran her fingers through his hair, holding him as his tongue worked its magic.
She cried out, desperate for release. Julieta wanted this moment---not just the intimacy, but the night---to last forever. Ramón was every fantasy she had ever had wrapped up into one---strong, sexy, sweet, and oh so skilled.
His deep voice, his capable hands, his delicious mouth. Perfection.
She completely surrendered to him.
"Ramón." She couldn't hold back any longer, as he edged her over the top. One final lick and a wave of ecstasy crashed through her followed by shivers of joy radiating through her entire body.”
Source: Ramón and Julieta
“He picked out a neon-green Sour Patch Kid and held it in front of her face. "Do you accept this little sugar man and his mission to bring you peace and fulfillment with the risk of a major sugar crash to follow?"
"I do," she said. "I accept the terms of the tiny sugar man, and the wrath of my impossible mother.”
Source: Fans of the Impossible Life
“He picked some unwise words. Saying, “I’ll enjoy killing you for my lord”, is just not the way to make my acquaintance.”
Source: Dead and Gone: A Sookie Stackhouse Novel
“He picked the postage stamp over the wall with aplomb.”
“He picked the wrong profession. Should've stayed a prostitute. He'd have made millions. - Cat”
“He picked up a violin which lay on the table and drew the bow once or twice across the strings. Tuppence ground her teeth, and even the explorer blenched. The performer laid the instrument down again.
‘A few chords from Mosgovskensky,’ he murmured.
As the visitor left the office, Tuppence grabbed the violin, and putting it in the cupboard turned the key in the lock.
‘If you must be Sherlock Holmes,’ she observed, ‘I’ll get you a nice little syringe and a bottle labelled cocaine, but for God’s sake leave that violin alone.”
Source: Partners in Crime
“He picked up his knife and started carving again. He concentrated on the lines and planes of the wood to keep his mind from wandering too far into the past.
He had his own wounds that refused to heal.”
Source: Always to Remember
“He picked up one of Lorna's roses and set it in my lap. "Here." I picked it up and smelled it. He poked me in the shoulder. "See what I mean? Thorns don't stop you from sniffing. Or putting them in a vase on the kitchen table. You work around them.... Cause the rose is worth it... Think what you'd miss.”
Source: Chasing Fireflies
“He picked up the letter Q and hurled it into a distant privet bush where it hit a young rabbit. The rabbit hurtled off in terror and didn’t stop till it was set upon and eaten by a fox which choked on one of its bones and died on the bank of a stream which subsequently washed it away. During the following weeks Ford Perfect swallowed his pride and struck up a relationship with a girl who had been a personnel officer on Golgafrincham, and he was terribly upset when she suddenly passed away as a result of drinking water from a pool that had been polluted by the body of a dead fox.”
Source: The Restaurant at the End of the Universe
“He picked up the paper and read the article; it was just one of many he had read lately that portrayed the poor in an awful light. The badge had now become the symbol of the unemployed, the sick, the disabled, and the most vulnerable. Badger had noticed that the media, just like that newspaper, swirled around anybody who they deemed too lazy or too stupid to work, and it seemed, people believed what they read.”
Source: The Year of the Badgers
“He picked up the sketchbook, turning it so she could see his work - a gorgeous rendition of a stone bridge they'd passed, surrounded by the drooping boughs of oak trees.
"You could sketch me," said Emma. She flung herself down onto her seat, leaning her head on her hand. "Draw me like one of your french girls.”
Source: Lord of Shadows
“He picked up the skull and knocked an onion ring out of its eye socket. "I see Sophie has been busy again. Couldn't you have restrained her, my friend?" The skull yattered its teeth at him. Howl put it down rather hastily.”
“He picked up the small painting of the frozen forest and examined it again. 'I've had many lovers,' he admitted. 'Females of noble birth, warriors, princesses...' Rage hit me, low and deep in the gut at the thought of them- rage at their titles, their undoubtedly good looks, at their closeness to him. 'But they never understood. What it was like, what it is like, for me to care for my people, my lands. What scars are still there, what the bad days feel like.' That wrathful jealousy faded away like morning dew as he smiled at my painting. 'This reminds me of it.'
'Of what?' I breathed.
He lowered the painting, looking right at me, right into me. 'That I'm not alone.'
I didn't lock my bedroom door that night.”
Source: A Court of Thorns and Roses
“He picked up the wrench and broke the guy’s wrist with it, one, and then the other wrist, two, and turned back and did the same to the guy who had held the hammer, three, four. The two men were somebody’s weapons, consciously deployed, and no soldier left an enemy’s abandoned ordnance on the field in working order. The doctor’s wife was watching from the cabin door, all kinds of terror in her face. "What?" Reacher asked her.”
Source: The Essential Jack Reacher, Volume 2, 6-Book Bundle: 61 Hours, Worth Dying For, The Affair, A Wanted Man, Never Go Back, Personal
“He picks up a potato and checks it very minutely. He takes the potato near to his ear and checks it by shaking. He does the same thing with some spinach, some carrots. But the shopkeeper gets irritated - Finding.”
Source: Finding and other stories
“He picks up speed and seems to lose his gangliness, the slouchy funk of hormones and unbelonging and all the stammering things that seal his adolescence. He is just a running boy, a half-seen figure from the streets, but the way running reveals some clue to being, the way a runner bares himself to consciousness, this is how the dark-skinned kid seems to open to the world, how the bloodrush of a dozen strides bring him into eloquence.”
“He pictured himself at the lake, on a houseboat. Dekka would be there, and Brianna and Jack. He would have friends. He wouldn’t be alone.
But he couldn’t stop himself from looking for her.
She no longer had Little Pete to worry about. They could be together without all of that. But of course he knew Astrid, and knew that right now, wherever she was, she was eaten up inside with guilt.
“She’s not coming, is she?” Sam said to Dekka.
But Dekka didn’t answer. She was somewhere else in her head. Sam saw her glance and look away as Brianna laid a light hand on Jack’s shoulder.
Dahra was staying in the hospital, but a few more kids came. Groups of three or four at a time. The Siren and the kids she lived with came. John Terrafino came. Ellen. He waited. He would wait the full two hours. Not for her, he told himself, just to keep his word.
Then Orc, with Howard.
Sam groaned inwardly.
“You gotta be kidding me,” Brianna said.
“The deal was kids make a choice,” Sam said. “I think Howard just realized how dangerous life can be for a criminal living in a place where the ‘king’ can decide life or death.”
Source: Plague
“He pictured the smile he would have drawn on her lips had she read his words, had her heart kept on beating for one more day. He was perching on the edge of his town jetty thinking about the memories he had with her there, as a droplet of his tears became indistinguishable amongst the ocean of water beneath his feat.”
“He pictures amputated human arms flopping like fish down the center of the road; syringes floating on beds of liposuctioned fat; gelatinous human eyeballs wiggling merrily as they roll down the highway; and so on. He could imagine other such grotesque stuff, but chooses not to.”
Source: Stay Awake
“He pictures, ludicrously, a high-speed chase through the desert: he and Rio and Whale speeding towards the Polaris camp, with Juno in his probably stolen Fauxcedes barreling after them. Whale barks out the window as they leap over hillocks and take a hard turn into the scrub, howling a devil-may-care, Fuck you!”
Source: Blackpines: The Magpie Witch: The North Star in Eclipse
“He [Pigpen] appears too damn happy and that causes a wave of uneasiness.”
Source: Walk the Edge
“He [Pigpen] should know better than to ask questions he won't get answers to. He motions to my cell. "I could hack it and just find out."
Proved he could this afternoon after the two of us hacked into emails of someone who's been targeting a client.”
Source: Walk the Edge
“He piled upon the whale's white hump the sum of all the general rage and hate felt by his whole race from Adam down; and then, as if his chest had been a mortar, he burst his hot heart's shell upon it.”
“He pinched the name tag and ran his fingers under the letters. "Can you read this, mate? It says C-H-A-R-O-N. Say it with me: CARE-ON." "Charon." "Amazing! Now: Mr. Charon." "Mr. Charon." "Well done.”
Source: Percy Jackson: The Complete Series
“He pinched the remaining chapters’ pages delicately between his fingers and sighed. He always hated reaching the end of a good book.”
Source: Posthumous
“He pinned me in place with a direct look, his dark brown eyes smoldering. “You’re Mary Jane,” he said finally. “And you have all these Flash Thompsons and Harry Osborns hovering around you, trying to make a move. Because...you’re basically amazing.”
Source: Tall, Dark Streak of Lightning
“He pinpointed Helen immediately, despite so many women—all dressed in somber mourning attire—against a background of pitch dark. He offered her a weak smile, somewhere between, ‘I didn’t mean to look at you’ and ‘I couldn’t help but look at you.”
Source: The Gatehouse
“He pins one of my arms above my head and with his free hand he takes hold of my throat, pushing hard against me and biting his bottom lip.
“You do very bad things to me, witch,” he growls, his lips curling up into a snarl. “Bad things that I’m struggling to control.”
Source: Black Magic
“He pintado varios cuadros imaginándome como será esa sonrisa que me desarme. He juntado tantos sueños que no se en cual creer, hasta le pedí al viento que te hable de mí.”
“He pitches better when he's mad, so I try to make him that way.”
“He pivoted on one buttock and broke wind. Dukhi leaned back to allow it free passage, wondering what penalty might adhere to the offence of interfering with the waft of brahminical flatus.”
Source: A Fine Balance
“He pivoted, gaze following me as I crossed to the shower and turned on the cold water, so it would drown out our conversation without steaming up the room. Great," he muttered."Now they're going to think we're showering together. Maybe we can just tell them we were washing off the crawl space dirt and trying to conserve water.”