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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 was here. Nice to have someone to hold my hand in the end. "Valkyrie, I need to lift you. This is going to hurt." His arms slid underneath my body. I screamed. Almost gone. I struggled. Needed to tell him not to worry. It wasn't his fault. Don't bother trying to save me. Hurts too much. "What is it, Valkyrie? You have to stop struggling." His head hovered above my mouth. "There's nothing... left to save.”

“He was horrible to me," I say firmly. Mama waves a hand. "That doesn't mean anything. You know, they say boys are meanest to the girls they like the best." "I hate that saying. Meanness is meanness. To tell a girl that there's some sort of benevolent action behind it all is to say that it's okay for her to be victimized." Mama stares up at me for a moment, then shakes her head. "You're right, pumpkin. I don't know why I said that." JoJo snorts again. Because you and I were raised with 'boys will be boys' tossed in our faces." She sits back in her chair and turns her face to the sunlight. "I say it should be 'dicks will be dicks, and a misbehaving dick deserves a knee to the balls.”

“He was hungry, and his first thought was to collect a dozen or two gulls’ eggs to make a meal. But embryo chicks were forming in all of them. So he rowed out to do some fishing and was more succesful. He lived on fish from day to day and sang and whiled the time away and ruled over the island. When it rained he too shelter beneath a splendid overhangig rock. At night he slept on a patch of grass and the sun never set.”

“He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a lover he would have placed himself in a false position. He never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They were admirable things for the observer- excellent for drawing the veil from men's motives and actions. But for the trained observer to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which might throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a nature such as his.”

“He was important. That’s the complete definition of his being. But the truth is, I’m important too. We lose ourselves in people the moment we intertwine. We justify things they do wrong and fall in love with things they do right. We justify little jabs, little words, little white lies with thinking they’re normal. They’re not. When you fall in love with someone, you want them happy. Their happiness makes you happy. That’s love. And since I was in love, I thought I was actually wrong. I would reward him when he treated me horribly. I would love him harder when he threw toxicity. It was dangerous. Vile. Absolutely terrifying that someone could make you feel so immensely cold, but so crazy in love. That’s emotional abuse.”

“He was impressed by her stillness. Her calm willingness to allow him such liberties. To reward her, he leaned forward, just enough so he could press his lips to her shoulder. Touching the tip of his tongue to her skin, he reveled in the sound of her breath catching with pleasure. She tasted salty and sweet. Innocent. Pure. A delicate shudder passed through her, and she turned her head toward him. Her lips were parted and swollen, as though she'd been worrying them with her teeth. The thick drift of her lashes was still lowered over her gaze. "My lord?" she said in a whispered plea. "Do you enjoy the feel of my hands on your body?" "Yes." He kept one hand pressed to her lower back as he stepped around to her side, where he could better observe her full reactions. His other hand slid over her hip and across the gentle curve of her belly. Her body quivered. "Are you afraid?" he asked as he moved to cup her full breast in his hand. "Yes," she replied in a weakened voice. Her spine softened, and her chin lowered by a fraction. "But I love the way you frighten me.”

“He was in a beastly hole. But decency demanded that he shouldn't act in panic. He had a mechanical, normal panic that made him divest himself of money. Gentlemen don't earn money. Gentlemen, as a matter of fact, don't do anything. They exist. Perfuming the air like Madonna lilies. Money comes into them as air through petals and foliage. Thus the world is made better and brighter. And, of course, thus political life can be kept clean!... So you can't make money.”

“He was in a room of the Gesshuuji, which he had thought it would be impossible to visit. The approach of death had made the visit easy, had unloosed the weight that held him in the depths of being. It was even a comfort to think, from the light repose the struggle up the hill had brought him, that Kiyoaki, struggling against illness up that same road, had been given wings to soar with by the denial that awaited him.”

“He was in blue jeans and a work shirt, which is another weird quirk of Rich Old Men. Just one of the guys here. Blue jeans and a work shirt, salt of the earth, working man like yourself. Like they're somehow uncomfortable about being rich enough to sleep in a bed made of vaginas being pulled around the town at night by a fleet of gold-covered midgets.”

“He was in conflict with himself. There was no enjoyment in the thought that he had escaped a great danger, and in the midst of his uneasy reflections he had a sudden breathless conviction that she made him feel old because he loved her. Then he felt a hatred of himself, gathering into one mighty heap all the fierce and bitter hatred he had cherished for others and pouring it out on himself.”