H Quotes
Browse famous quotes beginning with H. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.
“His steps ignite divine presence. This is a godly man whose passion is to serve God with utmost diligence.”
Source: A Man of Valour: Idioms and Epigrams
“His sterility was infinite: it partook of ecstasy.”
Source: The New Gods
“His steward and his housekeeper, both persons of sentiment, hoped that upon his death-bed he would remember her, and speak of her with a forgiving tongue, for it seemed to them incredible that so gentle and lovely a lady should hold no place in his heart or memory. They even indulged their fancies by supposing that his overt dislike of his elder son was caused by the secret pangs the sight of the fair boy, who was indeed the image of his mother, caused him to feel.”
Source: The Quiet Gentleman
“His stomach rumbled. He hadn't eaten since breakfast, and the aromas drifting up from the kitchen below reminded him of his mother's masala box, filled with all the spices she used to make their meals- zesty cumin, sweet cinnamon, fragrant bay leaves, savory mustard seeds, rich peppercorn, pungent garam masala, and spicy chilies- they were all tied up in a sense of home.”
Source: The Marriage Game
“His stomach turned inside out, like a glove, and he vomited.
It wasn't disagreeable at all. Almost like a liberation, in fact. A kind of suicide, in a way. These particles of matter that showered from his mouth, after he had thought them consumed and digested, did not disgust him. No, he was completely indifferent to them; and to everything else, for that matter. It was only when he vomited that he could be indifferent even to life itself.”
Source: The Tenant
“His stony heart turned me into a stone.
But meeting you, something opened.
Your love turned me into a flower.”
“His stories are good to hear at night, because we can dream about them asleep; and good in the morning, too, because then we can dream about them awake. (Cowslip)”
Source: Wonder Book & Tanglewood Tales – Greatest Stories from Greek Mythology for Children (Illustrated): Captivating Stories of Epic Heroes and Heroines from the Renowned American Author of
“His stories were not always new, but there was in the telling of them a special kind of magic. His voice could roll like thunder or hush down into a zepherlike whisper. He could imitate the voices of a dozen men at once; whistle so like a bird that the birds themselves would come to him to hear what he had to say; and when when he imitated the howl of a wolf, the sound could raise the hair on the backs of his listeners' necks and strike a chill into their hearts like the depths of a Drasnian winter. He could make the sound of rain and of wind and even, most miraculously, the sound of snow falling.”
Source: The Belgariad, Vol. 1: Pawn of Prophecy / Queen of Sorcery / Magician's Gambit
“His storm had moved inside her. Phee was chaos without a place to land. He had to be her place to land, or else she would dissipate in an explosion with nothing left but dust. He had to be the one. There was no one else.”
Source: Her True Alpha
“His story is simple, because simple is always best.”
Source: Mr. Mercedes
“His story was my story. We had both spat in the face of our Father, to whom we owed not only our lives, but every good thing we had ever experienced. We exchanged our Father and His all-sufficient love for money, sex, inebriation, and eventually emaciation. We both were bled dry by a world that cannot satisfy. And we both ended up in the arms of the same God and Father whom we had battered and blasphemed.”
Source: Pursued: God’s relentless pursuit and a drug addict’s journey to finding purpose
“His straight and perfect figure, muscled as the best of the ancient Roman gladiators must have been muscled, and yet with the soft and sinuous curves of a Greek god, told at a glance the wondrous combination of enormous strength with suppleness and speed.”
Source: Tarzan of the Apes
“His strength began as bravery, then quickly calcified into an impenetrable shell. An exoskeleton. Her strength was love, always love, nothing but love. He was not strong enough to live that way but he wanted to be. He would try. He owed it both to her and himself. Anything short of that would be unworthy of all the suffering he had endured. The sadness had no point unless he gave it one.”
Source: Mort(e)
“His strength for your weakness! His wisdom for your folly! His drive for your drift! His grace for your greed! His love for your lust! His peace for your problems! His joy for your sorrow! His plenty for your poverty!”
“His strength was enormous, and so was the burning need to kill this man. He'd felt this way on more than one occasion. The drive was an actual need, like breathing, consuming him, almost taking him out of his body so that the rage was a separate entity.”
Source: Toxic Game
“His Strength
Why me, His whisper oh so clear?
Loves swiftness I can hear.
Guiding me to the perfect place
His strength is always near.
How do I explain to those
who wander in the night,
this perfect peaceful feeling
it’s there but out of sight.
I’ll never stop rejoicing
He's touched my very soul,
colors of the rainbow
this vivid light and more. Amen.”
“His strike force stood around him, craning their necks, in awe of the massive emptiness all around. He was almost sorry to pull his attention back to the small, vaguely intimate necessities of violence.”
Source: Cibola Burn
“His struggle for a bare living left him no time to take advantage of the public evening school. In time he learned to read, to follow a conversation or lecture; but he never learned to write correctly; and his pronunciation remains extremely foreign to this day.”
Source: At School in the Promised Land: Or The Story of a Little Immigrant
“His students were hardly in a position to tell him when he was getting windy, and he had recently noticed, as most professors did after a while, that his lectures mysteriously seemed to be getting longer with time.”
Source: Dead Men's Hearts
“His studies were always second to Beatrice. He would've said everything was second to Beatrice but the flowery metaphors and literary devices can only stretch so far and for so many characters.”
Source: Chronic Passions
“His stutter didn't like the idea of wooing and silenced any attempts to broach the subject.”
Source: The Inferior
“His style has the desperate jauntiness of an orchestra fiddling away for dear life on a sinking ship.”
“His style is chaos illumined by flashes of lightning. As a writer he has mastered everything except language.”
Source: Oscar Wilde - The Major Works
“His success may be great, but be it ever so great the wheel of fortune may turn again and bring him down into the dust.”
“His successor was a tall, lanky youth, who with his pallid complexion and huge red hands had the air of a simpleton. He was punctual at least, arriving at six o'clock on the dot, but his uncleanliness was revolting: he was dressed in kitchen rags stiff with grease and dirt, his cheeks were smeared with flour and soot, and from his unwiped nose two rivulets of green snot streamed around his mouth.”
Source: Downstream
“His sudden decision not to see her any more was utterly incomprehensible to the girl, it was a death sentence from a hidden authority for an unknown crime. Nothing had changed, and then there was suddenly this.”
Source: The Nice and the Good
“His sudden falling-away, his tentativeness, his loss of will, made me dislike him, and I realized that I was disappointed.”
Source: In the Cut
“His sudden mad love for Sibyl Vane was a psychological phenomenon of no small interest. There was no doubt that curiosity had much to do with it, curiosity and the desire for new experiences; yet it was not a simple but rather a very complex passion.”
Source: The Complete Works of Oscar Wilde: Novel, Short Stories, Poetry, Essays and Plays
“His sugar-coated words were everything that I needed and wanted to hear, but now I see them for what they are. They are not coated in sugar, but poison. They are the words of a monster.”
Source: Perfectly Fractured (The Imperfect, #1).
“His sumptuous tents, and those of his satraps, afforded an immense booty to the conqueror; and an incident is mentioned which proves the rustic but martial ignorance of the legions in the elegant superfluities of life. A bag of shining leather, filled with pearls, fell into the hands of a private soldier; he carefully preserved the bag, but he threw away its contents, judging that whatever was of no use could not possibly be of any value.”
Source: The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, 1
“His supermarket rarely carried what he wanted anymore, so Cecil had gone to the butcher store around the block from the housing project where the owner was now in the habit of saving chicken feet for him. When he got home, Cecil set a pot of water on the stove. As soon as it boiled, he dropped in the four-pronged feet. After five minutes he took them out and rolled off the skin.
Next Cecil pulled out the old black cast-iron skillet that had been his mama's, poured in some oil, and added the feet, frying them up until they were a golden brown. Throwing in some chopped onion and garlic and cooking them until he could see through the onions, Cecil added rice and covered the whole shebang with water. Some salt and pepper, bring to a boil again, put on a lid, and wait till the rice was fluffy and the chicken feet were tender.”
Source: That Old Black Magic
“His supporters never wanted to see the sick
effect they had on him. They locked him in a cell. They made him freeze at night. Each time he tried to get away, they would never let him go. He tried to scream and cry, but eventually he accepted his fate. Everyone had tried to warn him, but now it was too late. Family and friends can always understand and hear his silent plea. He was living under their dungeon where his family and friends never came, because the place was full of danger and terror.
His supporters never wanted to see the sick effect they had on him. They locked him in a cell. They made him freeze at night. They deceived him against his loved ones. They made him live in constant horror."
- Shwin J Brad”
Source: Mindfulness and stress relief
“His supporters will push him to disaster unless his opponents show where the dangers are.”
“His suppressed grief becomes anger. But what can he do with anger? It must also be suppressed.”
Source: Wolf Hall
“His survival had to come, first, before he could even think to help anyone else. That’s just how it had to be.”
Source: The Manhattanville Incident: An Undead Novel
“His suspicion that he was not going in the right direction tortmented him more and more. At last he had the conviction that he would never go anywhere but in the wrong direction, to the very end of the handful of days that was left to him, unhappy moonstruck pilgrim, whose April was to be cut off short.”
“His sword, death’s stamp,
Where it did mark, it took. From face to foot
He was a thing of blood,
whose every motion
Was timed with dying cries.”
Source: Coriolanus
“His sympathy made tears spring to Lina's eyes. Doon looked startled for a moment, and then he took a step toward her and wrapped his arms around her. He gave her a squeeze so quick and tight that it made her cough, and then it made her laugh. She realized all at once that Doon--thin, dark-eyed Doon with his troublesome temper and his terrible brown jacket and his good heart--was the person that she knew better than anyone now. He was her best friend.”
Source: The Books of Ember Omnibus
“His system of morality was the most benevolent and sublime probably that has been ever taught, and consequently more perfect than those of any of the ancient philosophers... He was the most innocent, the most benevolent, the most eloquent and sublime character that ever has been exhibited to man.”
Source: Jefferson: Political Writings
“His talent was as natural as the pattern that was made by the dust on a butterfly's wings. At one time he understood it no more than the butterfly did and he did not know when it was brushed or marred. Later he became conscious of his damaged wings and of their construction and he learned to think and could not fly any more because the love of flight was gone and he could only remember when it had been effortless.”
“His talent was as natural as the pattern that was made by the dust on a butterfly's wings. At one time he understood it no more than the butterfly did and he did not know when it was brushed or marred.”
“His talk is disordered and feverish like delirium, disconnected, and not always intelligible, but, on the other hand, something extremely fine may be felt in it, both in the words and the voice. When he talks you recognize in him the lunatic and the man.”
“His targets had little in common, other than that they had somehow aroused his enmity.”
Source: Lincoln and the Power of the Press: The War for Public Opinion
“His teaching became a turning point in chess history: it was from Steinitz that the era of modern chess began. The contribution of the first world champion to its development is comparable with the great scientific discoveries of the 19th century.”
“His team consisted of a group of mavericks. They were cohesive when they needed to be, but their strength was their individual thinking. Many of their enhancements enabled them to do their jobs better alone then in a group. The idea had been that the GhostWalkers easily could do teamwork or perform alone.”
Source: Toxic Game
“his tears came way before any words”
Source: America: No Purchase Necessary A Novel
“His tears dripped onto her face, and she reached up to brush them away. He leaned his head into her hand, nuzzling her palm.”
Source: A Court of Silver Flames
“His teeth grazed her pulse.
'Jacks-' It was suddenly impossible to form words. His mouth was against her throat and his teeth were on her skin. HIs teeth! Evangeline finally pressed against his chest. But it was as useless as trying to battle a block of marble. Hot, sculpted marble. She wanted to tell him not to bite her, but saying the word bite didn't seem like the wisest idea just then. 'You won't want this later.'
'Not really thinking about later.' He licked her, one languorous stroke up the column of her neck.
She gasped. 'You don't even like me.'
'I like you right now. I like you a lot.' He gently sucked her skin. 'In fact, I can't think of anything I like more.”
Source: Once Upon a Broken Heart
“His teeth sang in their individual sockets like tuning forks, each one pitch-perfect and clear as ethanol.”
Source: Neuromancer
“His temperament is always there to be questioned because he plays on the edge. That is just the way he plays. It is a cliche but if you took that edge away from Wayne he wouldn't be the same player and I would rather have the Wayne Rooney we have now.”