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H Quotes

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All H Quotes

“He was close to her now. There was something equally annoying and attractive about Hugo. He exuded an arrogant amorality that made his face something to either slap or kiss, depending on the circumstance. 'In one life we have known each other for years and are married...' he said. 'In most lives I don't know you at all,' she countered, now staring straight at him. 'That's so sad.' 'I don't think so.' 'Really?' 'Really.' She smiled. 'We're special, Nora. We're chosen. No one understands us.' 'No one understands anyone. We're not chosen.' 'The only reason I am still in this life is because of you...' She lunged forward and kissed him.”

“He was confronted at an early age with adult-strength realizations about powerlessness, desperation, and distrust, taking his dose right alongside the overwhelmed adults. This steady stream of shocks and realizations leaves so many boys raised in poor, urban areas stumbling toward manhood with a hardened exterior masking deep insecurities.”

“He was conscious of a bliss that stole over him not infrequently now, had first stolen over him when he had first acquired this car, first bent over the bat-wing hood and seen the engine and drive-train, humble and useful like his own internal organs. It was a sense that at last what he knew of the world was sufficient to his being alive in it: that the world and what he knew of it were one. He called this feeling "growing up," and it did feel like growing, though in moments of mad elation he would wonder if what he was growing into weren't a Ford, or perhaps Ford: there was no other instrument, and no other man, so serenely purposeful and complete, August thought, so sufficient to the world and so self-sufficient: it would have been a destiny he could welcome.”

“He was considering giving up. "No. Don't Stop." I unsheathed my other blade. "Give me a fair fight, and I'll give you a fait death, Ibrihim." His jaw tightened. After a moment, he forced open his shaking fingers and let his bow fall to the ground. When he drew his sword, he could barely support the weight of it. Still he threw everything he had into those final strikes. And when I wrenched him close, when I prepared my killing blow, that one remaining eye met mine, as if looking into a mirror. "I'm glad it was you," he said, quietly.”

“He was consious of a thousand odours floating in the air, each one connected with a thousand thoughts, and hopes, and joys, and cares, long, long, forgotten.”

“He was convincing. Lying as cultural attribute. A hazard of the job. And I fell for it. It did not occur to me that he lies simply because he likes it. Lies to bosses. Lies on the stand. He boasts about it. Lies under oath. It's called testilying, he'd told me. Lies to women, especially to women. Starting with his mother and working his way through all of us. His wife. The doll collection. He couldn't be bothered to tell the truth.”

“He was dead before. He knew it, didn't you see it in his eyes? My jacket." "Your jacket?" I say, with enough force that my shaky voice makes Corr start. "How about 'my jacket, please.' " Sean Kendrick looks at me, perplexed, and I can see he hasn't a clue of why I'm upset with him. Why I'm upset at all. I can't stop shaking, as if I've taken all of Corr's trembling and made it my own. "That's what I said," he says after a pause. "No, it's not." "What did I say?" "You said my jacket." Sean looks a little bewildered now. "That's what I said I said.”

“He was decisive and wholehearted in everything he did, so intent on the task at hand that he never looked over his shoulder, even if his cloak got caught in a thorny bush. When he did turn to speak to somebody, he used to swing his entire body and address him full face. When he shook hands, he was never the first to withdraw his own. He inspired such confidence that he was known as al-Amin, the Reliable One.”