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H Quotes

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All H Quotes

“He’s not feeling well,” Clary said, catching at Simon’s wrist. “We’re going.” “No,” Simon said. “No, I — I need to talk to him. To the Inquisitor." Robert reached into his jacket and drew out a crucifix. Clary stared in shock as he held it up between himself and Simon. “I speak to the Night’s Children Council representative, or to the head of the New York clan,” he said. “Not to any vampire who comes to knock at my door —“ Simon reached out and plucked the cross out of Robert’s hand. “Wrong religion,” he said.”

“He’s sort of a homeless horse,” I said. “I’m leaving for the airport in two seconds, and I won’t be back for a couple days. You can put the horse in the garage, but I don’t want that horse in my apartment.” “Who would put a horse in an apartment? That’s dumb.” “Where’s the horse staying now?” “My apartment.” “I can always count on you to brighten my day,” Ranger said. And he disconnected.”

“He’s totally different from the typical jock. He has no ego. That’s unique for someone with such accolades. His strength comes from a higher power. You can’t explain Steve Largent by computer – he doesn’t belong on an NFL field. You put his size and speed in an IBM computer up in Silicon Valley, it would chew up his data card and laugh.”

“Hi...ah..." What did she call him? Honey? Babe? Darling? "...Humraaz." The Urdu term of endearment came out before she could stop it. Liam's gaze shifted to her, and his face softened. Before he could ask her what it meant and ruin the performance, she rose up on her toes, pressed her hands against his chest, and kissed him. Without hesitation, Liam wrapped one arm around her waist, pressed his mouth against hers, and bent her over backward in a full-on movie kiss. Her breath hitched and her lips softened. His lips were firm and cool and tasted of coffee and something sweet. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and for a moment she thought her heart had stopped. But it didn't matter. Upside down, in front of her work colleagues, she was the woman she always wanted to be. Then she was up and back on her feet, lips tingling, an ache of desire between her thighs. "What does it mean?" he murmured gently. "The one with whom we share our secrets." "Then I am your humraaz," he said. "And you are mine.”

“Hi, Albert,” Quinn called back. He seemed distracted. And Albert was sure that he’d seen Quinn motion for someone to stay down. “How long is this supposed to go on?” Albert asked. “Until we get justice,” Quinn said. “Justice? People have been waiting for justice since the dinosaurs.” Quinn said nothing and Albert cursed himself for indulging in sarcasm. “What is it you want, Quinn? I mean in practical terms.” “We want Penny gone,” Quinn said. “I can’t afford to pay you any more,” Albert shouted back. “I didn’t say anything about money,” Quinn said, sounding puzzled. “Yeah, I know: justice. Usually what people really want is money. So why don’t we get down to it?” “Penny,” Quinn said. “She leaves town. She stays gone. When that happens we fish. Until it happens, we sit.” He sat down as if to emphasize his point.”

“Hi ha ciutats secundàries que ja no són les ames del seu destí però amaguen en els seus carrers el tresor d’un gegant vençut. València és una d’elles. Amb el pas del temps el desdeny propi i alié les reduïx a tòpic. El tòpic preval com a mantra i sosté interpretacions fal·laces. Hi ha una resposta majoritària, la de propagar frases fetes. Era i és tan comú que mai va ser la meua. Les ruïnes no eren un decorat de ficció. El veïnat fugia, callava, mirava cap a un altre costat. Contràriament, les pedres exhalaven l’empremta d’una derrota per incompareixença.”

“Hi ha un àngel sense cel al fons d'aquest mirall amb els llavis pintats de sol que va a la posta. Du un estigma a la pell que demana resposta i uns ulls esbatanats que fan d'amagatall a l'aiguat dels torrents. Porta el ròssec de l'astre dels boscos i dels anys. I un deix de fulles mortes. Com en país estrany, closes totes les portes, erra obstinadament, com si seguís un rastre. Uns senyals que no hi són, que, amb cendra de follia i amb alfabets prestats inventem per demà. El nuvolar més fosc es congria amb nosaltres, La pluja esborrarà tots els camins del sia. Pastarem somnis vells, sota un cel de lilà, amb el fang sense ahir, com si fossin uns altres...”

“Hi ha una tònica que sempre es repeteix, la qüestió de classe. La bellesa acosta a una il·lusió de poder, i és això el que la fa addictiva. Però és un poder esclau, traïdor, que no podem destriar de l'amenaça. La bellesa si no neix del desig és una fugida. I si ens acosta al poder, encara que sigui per un moment, no es tracta tant de control com d'adequació.”

“Hi ha vegades en què el destí és com una tempesta de sorra molt petita que no para de canviar de direcció. Tu intentes evitar-la, però la tempesta et segueix. Tornes a canviar de direcció, però la tempesta fa el mateix que tu. Això es repeteix una vegada i una altra, com si fos una ominosa dansa amb la mort just abans de l'alba. I això és així perquè aquesta tempesta no és una cosa que hagi vingut de lluny i que no tingui cap relació amb tu. La tempesta ets tu.”

“Hi havia una vegada, quan els discos eren com els llibres de la Biblioteca d’Alexandria, la font universal del coneixement musical, en què tot el que buscaves era en algun d’aquells vinils arribats de tots els racons del planeta, il·lustrats amb boniques portades, enriquits amb textos, dibuixos, fotografies, tota una expressió de vida creativa bufant-te a la cara sensacions noves, obrint-te portes cada cop que els escoltaves. En molts d’ells hi vaig trobar el que necessitava. Tots els que jo he fet s'han emmirallat en aquella tradició de creadors consagrats a la seva feina, concebuts per la necessitat i el plaer de crear, esperant que algú, ni que fos un de sol, els acollís a prop del cor i els compartís amb els de la seva vora.”

“Hi. How are you feeling?" "Downright perky, thanks for asking." She smiled a little until she came up to him. With her night vision, she saw that he was lying on top of the covers with only a pair of boxers on. He had a gauze pad around his belly and was covered with bruises. And-oh God-his leg... "Don't worry,". he said dryly. I haven't had that foot-and-shin combo for over a century. And I really am okay. Just some aesthetic damage." "Then why are you wearing that bandage like a sash?" "It makes my ass look smaller.”

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