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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

“How wide the gulf between Henry as he was and Henry as Helen thought he ought to be! And she herself—hovering as usual between the two, now accepting men as they are, now yearning with her sister for Truth. Love and Truth—their warfare seems eternal. Perhaps the whole visible world rests on it, and if they were one, life itself, like the spirits when Prospero was reconciled to his brother, might vanish into air, into thin air.”

“How will I choose?” she finally muttered. “Pick something that doesn’t make you look like a slut. That’ll narrow it down,” Bailey said, now frowning at a headless mannequin wearing a tiny wedding dress with a long train. “Oh, and stay away from too much lace. Don’t want to look like someone’s grandma.” A wide-eyed Farah looked at me as I took her hand. “This is fun. We’re going to look at them all and pick our favorites. Then, you’ll try them on and narrow them down. With so many to choose from, you’re sure to find the perfect dress.” “I just don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard.” “You’re an idiot,” Bailey snorted. “Trying too hard to what?” “Look fancy.” “You’re wearing a fucking wedding dress. You’re supposed to look fancy. It’s not like you’re ever getting married again. If things don’t work out with Coop, he’ll never let you go. Nope, you’ll be heading for a shallow grave.” While Farah rolled her eyes, I stared at Bailey who shrugged. “Too honest? “Is that a real question?” Bailey grinned. “What I meant to say was Farah and Cooper are so fucking perfect for each other that they’ll never get divorced, so she should wear the fanciest damn dress she can find. It’s what I would do if I was once dirt poor and now had money.” “Great effort, but you lost a little bit of your fake niceness at the end.” Bailey grinned. “Great effort is still something.” “Yes, it is,” I said, taking Farah’s hand. “Let’s start narrowing things down. I’ll show you a dress and you decide if it’s too poofy or not poofy enough. We’ll eventually hit the right level of poofy.” Farah laughed. “I want a good amount of poofy. It’s rare that a girl can be poofy without looking stupid.” “Maddy will be poofy no matter what she wears,” Bailey said as Maddy entered with Jodi and Sawyer. “I don’t even know how she can get a bridesmaid dress if she’s going to swell up more before the wedding.” Everyone frowned at Bailey who glanced at me then back at Maddy and added, “You’re swelling with the gift of life.” Maddy laughed. “Was that you being nice?” “That was me trying, yes.”

“How will I ever get out of this labyrinth!" In reality, "How will I ever get out of this labyrinth!" were probably not Simon Bolivar's last words (although he did, historically, say them). His last words may have been "Jose! Bring the luggage. They do not want us here." The significant source for "How will I ever get out of this labyrinth!" is also Alaska's source, Gabriel Garcia Marquez's The General in his Labyrinth.”

“How will I survive this missing? How do others do it? People die all the time. Every day. Every hour. There are families all over the world staring at beds that are no longer slept in, shoes that are no longer worn. Families that no longer have to buy a particular cereal, a kind of shampoo. There are people everywhere standing in line at the movies, buying curtains, walking dogs, while inside, their hearts are ripping to shreds. For years. For their whole lives. I don't believe time heals. I don't want it to. If I heal, doesn't that mean I've accepted the world without her?”

“How will it be with us in the future life, when everything that has gratified us in this world: riches, honors, food and drink, dress, beautifully furnished dwellings, and all attractive objects-how will it be, I say, when all these things leave us-when they will all seem to us a dream, and when works of faith and virtue, of abstinence, purity, meekness, humility, mercy, patience, obedience, and others will be required of us?”

“How will it ever be bearable, Priestess?” His voice was rough. He sounded completely broken. “You’ll see her again. She’s with Nyx now. She’ll either wait for you in the Goddess’s meadow, or she’ll be reborn and her soul will find you again during this lifetime. You can bear it because you know that spirit never really ends-we never really end.”

“How will people remember you when you are gone? And for how long until they forget? Were you selfish or selfless? A gossip or a patient listener? Did you add value to the world, or did you simply take from it? Did you add value to the lives of others, or did you take the value out of someone's life? Were you a plus or negative? Meaningful or meaningless? Do you live to take or live to give?”

“How will the family unit be destroyed? ...[T]he demand alone will throw the whole ideology of the family into question, so that women can begin establishing a community of work with each other and we can fight collectively. Women will feel freer to leave their husbands and become economically independent, either through a job or welfare.”

“How will the remaining portion of the community like to have the amusements that shall be permitted to them regulated by the religious and moral sentiments of the stricter Calvinists and Methodists? Would they not, with considerable peremptoriness, desire these intrusively pious members of society to mind their own business? This is precisely what should be said to every government and every public, who have the pretension that no person shall enjoy any pleasure which they think wrong.”

“How will they sell rubies?' I ask him. 'Why not leave them something more practical?' 'As a prince of Faerie, I flatly refuse to leave cash. It's inelegant.' Tiernan shakes his head at both of us, then pokes at the foodstuffs selecting a handful of nuts. 'Gift cards are worse,' Oak says when I do not respond. 'I would bring shame to the entire Greenbriar line if I left a gift card.' At that, I can't help smiling a little, despite my heavy heart. 'You're ridiculous.”

“How will we ever tell you apart?" Collins asked, unable to resist the question. "It's really quite simple, sir, once you know us," the spokesman assured him. "If he's talking, it's probably George, because Geoff is a quiet lad; if he's dancing a hornpipe, it's Geoff, because hornpipes make me dizzy." "You're George, then?" "Yes, sir - the eldest." "By five minutes and fifty-five seconds," added Geoffrey, frowning. "Five minutes and fifty-nine seconds," George corrected him calmly.”

“How will we get back up?" I worried. "I have a different route in mind for our return trip." "Does it involve stairs?" I asked hopefully. "No." "Of course not. How silly of me. And for our return adventure we will be scaling the side of Mount Everest, hiking boots to be provided by our trusty sponsor, Barrons Books and Baubles.”

“How will we make space to hold the memory of the collective? There are times when belonging is not cemented in the lived moment of an experience but in the lively or sombre retelling of the moment afterward. Which means we can transfer belonging to the next generation by welcoming them into memories that they (or we) have not lived but choose to steward. In many spaces, to foster collective memory well, we must habitually ask ourselves, Whose story gets told, whose story is believed, and who gets to tell it? If we surrender our individual egos, these questions can function as a pruning process, as we contend with accounts that don’t line up quite flush. This interrogation may reveal false memories.”

“How will you ever learn that you had an option to deal with a situation differently, unless you deal with it one way and realize – and understand – its futility? This is why pain is a great teacher. Pain teaches you that Life must be faced and that you must always choose for yourself, for your Happiness…which is why pain, eventually, always, makes you strong, wise and happy!”