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I Quotes

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All I Quotes

“I’m serious,” Donovan grunts, throwing the crumpled ball at Nolan. “Even if they succeeded, they were fucked. Two teenage rich kids running away to do what? Become farmers? They had servants that did everything for them. They wouldn’t have lasted a week.” Kaleb sighs from the other side of Connor. “That’s not the point of the play. It’s a commentary on values and what you have to lose when you let petty things get in the way of what truly matters, your family and loved ones.”

“I'm serious, Jim. You need to put this crap away. You walk into school on Monday talking to me, or anyone else, about the city's pesky troll problem, and you're not exactly going to get a lot of people saying, 'Gee, thanks for the warning.' It'll spread faster than mono. You think things are tough for us now? Jim, this will be the end. I'm sorry if you had a crazy nightmare. I really am. But I can't let you ruin our lives.”

“I'm seven hundred years old, Alexander. I know when something isn't going to work. You won't even admit I exist to your parents." Alec stared at him. "I thought you were three hundred! You're seven huundred years old?" "Well," Magnus amended, "eight hundred. But I dont look it. Anyway, you're missing the point. The point is-" But Alec never found out what the point was because at that moment a dozen more Iblis demons flooded into the square. He felt his jaw drop. "Damn it." Magnus followed his gaze. the demons were already fanning out into a half circle around them, their yellow eyes glowing. "Way to change the subject, Lightwood.”

“I'm showered and now wearing the dress Caro brought over---a peacock-blue chiffon number from this season's Madeleine Bouchard collection. Again, it's like it's made for me---a perfect fit. When I enter the kitchen, Charles is still in a foul mood, barking out orders to the staff. "Charles," I say. "Can you tone down the anger in your voice? We're all working together. Aren't we?" "We are," says Charles, looking up and taking in my presence. His hands fly to his heart. "Whoa, ooh-la-la. You look amazing. That shade of blue really brings out the color in your eyes.”

“I’m sick at heart. (וְלִבִּ֥י דַוָּֽי) literally; “and-my-heart faints.” . . . she says, back-of-hand-glued-to-forehead pose, cutting her eyes toward Jehovah, to see if He will buy into her manipulative drama. Again, it takes the gall of a narcissist to destroy a family and then pretend the real victim is their, poor sick heart. Even at a distance, it must have been a terrible thing for angels to watch—powerless to comfort the Father they loved and admired. But, no angel was capable of feeling God’s depth of anguish. And how well they knew Jehovah’s anguish.”

“I’m sick of them. I never want to see them again. Except Aros; he smells nice. And Rome; because he’s so strong I’m pretty sure not even Rau can get past him. I don’t need the others. Except Siret. I’m pretty sure he hates me, but he’s really good at catching me like just before I face-plant into something. But the others, I don’t need them. Not at all.” I paused, my brow furrowing, my mouth pursing, and then I quickly blurted, “Except Coen and Yael. Coen is really good at making decisions, and if I leave out Yael he’ll probably hunt me down and haunt me-” “That's all of them,” Emmy interrupted smoothly.”

“I'm sick, sick, sick to death of reading about the Mitford sisters." "Have you read INSPIRED BY IAGO?" "HEAVENS ! no!" "It's not what you think ... it opens in a trailer park ..." "Right AWAY you've lost me. A little 'trailer park' goes a long way with me." "What do you like?" asked Arthur Harburg, patiently. He was used to dealing with his spoiled clients. "I like a book with short chapters," said Matilda. "I love to be able to say, 'I just want to finish this chapter,' and do it. SUCH a feeling of accomplishment." ~Dominick Dunne, PEOPLE LIKE US”

“I'm silenced by his right hand cupping my chin and ear, his left hand flattening against my ribs as he gently pushes me back against the wall. I can feel the brick pressing into my naked upper back, cold and rough. His kiss is slow, tender...firm. His lips are warm, tongue smooth and flat, filling my mouth...I can't even feel my own tongue...taking my breath away with his.”

“I'm simply saying that there is a way to be sane. I'm saying that you can get rid of all this insanity created by the past in you. Just by being a simple witness of your thought processes. It is simply sitting silently, witnessing the thoughts, passing before you. Just witnessing, not interfering not even judging, because the moment you judge you have lost the pure witness. The moment you say “this is good, this is bad,” you have already jumped onto the thought process. It takes a little time to create a gap between the witness and the mind. Once the gap is there, you are in for a great surprise, that you are not the mind, that you are the witness, a watcher. And this process of watching is the very alchemy of real religion. Because as you become more and more deeply rooted in witnessing, thoughts start disappearing. You are, but the mind is utterly empty. That’s the moment of enlightenment. That is the moment that you become for the first time an unconditioned, sane, really free human being.”

“I’m single, remember? No one to watch my back.” I would watch it for her. “I will go to the ends of the land if you wish to. Anywhere you want to go, we will go.” Her smile curves her mouth, and then she gives a soft chuckle. Her sweet, happy, true chuckle that makes my chest ache with want. “What if you resonate?” “She can wait.”

“I'm sitting at the bar, rearranging the order of my jokes. I'm under the delusion that I'm having bad shows because of some cosmic misalignment of words, phrases, and ideas. I may as well have cast runes into a spirit bowl, hoping that the collective heart of the audience would open to my necromantic call. Maybe that's how jugglers do it. Those guys never have shitty sets.”