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I Quotes

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All I Quotes

“I grieve and dare not show my discontent, I love and yet am forced to seem to hate, I do, yet dare not say I ever meant, I seem stark mute but inwardly do prate. I am and not, I freeze and yet am burned, Since from myself another self I turned. My care is like my shadow in the sun, Follows me flying, flies when I pursue it, Stands and lies by me, doth what I have done.”

“I grieve to leave: I love this place-I love it, because I have lived in it a full and delightful life,- momentarily at least. I have not been trampled on. I have not been petrified. I have not been buried with inferior minds, and excluded from every glimpse of communion with what is bright and energetic and high. I have talked, face to face, with what I reverence, with what I delight in,- with an original, a vigorous, an expanded mind. I have known you; and it strikes me with terror and anguish to feel I absolutely must be torn from you for ever. I see the necessity of departure; and it is like looking in the necessity of death.”

“I grieved my situation; I grieved the fact that the fines existed and I was to be held to some higher standard. I grieved my arrests and fines and penalties with ferocity, but I did not grieve the actions that got me into these circumstances. I grieved my pain but I did not grieve my sin. In fact, I did not believe in sin, so I let it continue to destroy my life as I hopelessly, cluelessly, and despondently wondered what on earth was wrong. I repeated the same mistakes, feeling bad for myself, hating the consequences, but never changing a thing.”

“I grin, and he beams with pride. “So what kind of hat is that?” I ask, unable to resist. He’s adorable when he’s showing off his wardrobe—like a puppy doing tricks. Although I remain cautious, knowing in the blink of an eye he can become a wolf again. “My Peregrination Cap,” he answers. “Huh?” His smile widens—baring white teeth. “Peregrination. An excursion … a journey.” “So, why don’t you just call it your traveling cap?” “Then it wouldn’t be much of a conversation starter, would it?” I raise an eyebrow. “Um, the fact that it’s made of living moths might give you something to talk about.” Morpheus laughs. For once our relationship feels comfortable, friendly.”

“I grin. “It’s just a party,” I assure her. “Nothin’ big.” “There ain’t nothin’ that happens on this ranch that’s organized by your mama that ain’t big. That woman’s about as subtle as a shotgun.” “A shotgun can be subtle if it ain’t bein’ fired,” I point out. She narrows her eyes. I think she’s about to quip back with something super sassy, but then a smile wrinkles up her face. “You sayin’ I’m better off to keep the shotgun from firin’?” “I’m sayin’ quit playin’ with the trigger, Grandma.”

“I grinned. “So you are human after all.” I touched his chest, feeling him breathe hard in and out. “I always thought you were made of steel, you know,” I said. “Superman?” Nat arched his eyebrows. “No, the Tin Man,” I answered back. I settled my head against his chest, turning my ear to listen to his heartbeat. “I sometimes wondered if you had a heart.” - Summer, Perfect Summer”

“I grip Colin harder, kissing him longer, unwilling to let him go. This is what I want; this is what I’ve wanted since his damn phone interrupted us this morning, his mouth, his body claiming mine. I’m on fire, every muscle in my body attuned to his, my groin clenching with delicious need. When the voices grow louder his hold loosens. “Don’t stop, please,” I beg into his mouth. Diving into me once more his tongue slays me, erases every thought of the outside world until the passion has left us breathless and we have to break away if only to live. His forehead presses to mine as we gasp together, the cold air barely cooling the heat raging between us. -Midnight, A McKenna Chronicle”

“I griped about it at lunch one day to Bill Weist and Dr. Leslie Squier, our visiting psychologists from Reed College. I'd been trying to train one otter to stand on a box, I told them. No problem getting the behavior; as soon as I put the box in the enclosure, the otter rushed over and climbed on top of it. She quickly understood that getting on the box earned her a bite of fish, But. As soon as she got the picture, she began testing the parameters. 'Would you like me lying down on the box? What if I just put three feet on the box? Suppose I hang upside down from the edge of the box? Suppose I stand on it and look under it at the same time? How about if I put my front paws on it and bark?' For twenty minutes she offered me everything imaginable except just getting on the box and standing there. It was infuriating, and strangely exhausting. The otter would eat her fish and then run back to the box and present some new, fantastic variation and look at me expectantly (spitefully, even, I thought) while I struggled once more to decide if what she was doing fit my criteria or not. My psychologist friends flatly refused to believe me; no animal acts like that. If you reinforce a response, you strengthen the chance that the animal will repeat what it was doing when it was reinforced; you don't precipitate some kind of guessing game. So I showed them. We all went down to the otter tank, and I took the other otter and attempted to get it to swim through a small hoop. I put the hoop in the water. The otter swam through it, twice. I reinforced it. Fine. The psychologists nodded. Then the otter did the following, looking up for a reward each time: swam through the hoop and stopped, leaving its tail on the other side. Swam through and caught the hoop with a back foot in passing, and carried it away. Lay in the hoop. Bit the hoop Backed through the hoop. 'See?' I said. 'Otters are natural experimenters.”