I Quotes
Browse famous quotes beginning with I. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.
“I pulled together vanilla, cardamom, nutmeg, cloves, and brown butter that smelled of caramel and hazelnuts. It was a warm, dark mixture of flavors--- rich and spicy, comforting and bold. Remarkable. I knew even then, in that very night in that kitchen, that it would be my triumph. My chai spice cake.”
Source: The Memory Gardener
“I pulled you from the snow, Tella. You couldn't even keep your eyes open.'
I roll my eyes to show him how well they work now.”
Source: Salt & Stone
“I pulled you from the water
And kept you in my bed.
A lost, forsaken daughter
Of a past that isn’t dead.
Somehow love from sweet obsession
Branched and broke a heart of stone.
Distrust became confession,
Solemn vows of blood and bone.
But in the wind, I hear the strain,
Pilgrim soul that time has found.
It moans to whisk you back again.
Bid me follow, sweetly drown.
Don’t go near the water, love.
Stay away from strand or sea.
You cannot walk on water, love.
The lough will take you far from me.”
Source: What the Wind Knows
“I punch a lot of guys on set. It's much easier than in real life as your hands don't hurt afterwards. The key is that you miss.”
“I punched my buddy in the nose after lunch, now I'm in trouble cause the dean saw the punch.”
“I punched the damn prince in his face. I wished I had broken a nose. He was not expecting the grace I’d slammed on his pretty face. I knew it by the way he growled and covered his nose with his hand. “Fuck! That hurts, Thea.”
Source: The Smitten Sky: An Enemies to Lovers Dark Fantasy Romance
“I punched to line. "Yes? What?" "Norville. It's Cormac. If you don't change the subject right now, I'm going to have to go over there and have a word with you.”
“I punish myself for my whole life, my whole life I punish.”
Source: The Brothers Karamazov (English Russian Edition illustrated): Братья Карамазовы (англо-русская редакция иллюстрированная)
“I punish myself more than anybody else does if I am stupid about my actions, and I suffer, really suffer.”
“I punished myself and avoided my reflection in mirrors and any windows. I would see myself reflected back, and I would look away, trying to pretend I didn't exist, because I hated myself so much.”
“I purchased an infrared camcorder to video record my sleeping. Much to my horror, I discovered I move about every 20 minutes during the night.”
“I purchased excellent and beautiful horses, visited all such neighbors as I found in congenial spirits, and was as happy as happy could be.”
Source: Writings and Drawings
“I purge compulsively. I'm constantly shedding things.”
“I purified my lips with sacred fire that I might speak of love, but when I opened my mouth to speak, I found myself mute.”
“I purpose publishing these Letters here in the world before I return to you. Two editions. One, unedited, for Bible readers and their children; the other, expurgated, for persons of refinement”
Source: The Bible According to Mark Twain
“I purposefully abstain from dates on this occasion,that very one may be liberty to fix their own,aware that the cure of unconquerable passions,and the transfer of unchanging attachments,must vary much as to time in different people.---I only entreat every body to believe that exactly at the time when it was quite natural that it should be so, and not a week earlier,Edmund did cease to care about Miss Crawford, and become anxious to marry Fanny,as Fanny herself could desire.”
Source: Mansfield Park
“I purposefully did not want to watch anything I've done so far; I actually don't like looking at my face, so I don't like watching myself on the screen. It's an insecurity thing I have.”
“I purposefully isolate myself from anything that has to do with any press. I don't read any press about myself.”
“I purposely don't talk about money, because people are already skeptical about TV preachers. But I do say that I want you to be blessed. To me, prosperity is having health, having great children, having peace, good relationships. It's not about the money.”
“I purposely try to hire people who are really self-motivated and good at what they do, and then I just leave them alone.”
“I pursue no intentions, no directions; I have no program, no style and no mission.”
“I pursue no objectives, no systems, no tendency; I have no program, no style, no direction. I have no time for specialized concerns, working themes, or variations that lead to mastery. I steer clear of definitions. I don’t know what I want. I am inconsistent, non-committal, passive; I like the indefinite, the boundless; I like continual uncertainty.”
Source: Gerhard Richter: Forty Years of Painting
“I pursue one goal the encyclopaedia of life.”
“I pursue pleasure, but stingily, suspiciously.”
“I pursue the things I do because I'm interested in them.”
“I pursue this dream and carry on. I don't dwell too much on the outside, I just focus on the inside.”
“I pursue through my research on speed and on my study of the organisation of the revolution of the means of transportation.”
“I pursue wealth not just for myself, but for those I’ve never met.”
“I pursued a theatre career, and Hollywood came calling.”
“I push against the tree and run away, stumbling, the unreal night playing with me, gravity pulling from below, behind, above, making me fall. And I run through a world that is rotating, conscious of the earth's spin, of our planet twirling as it careens through nothingness, of the stars spiraling above, of the uncertainty of everything, even ground, even sky. Mumtaz never calls out, although a thousand and one voices scream in my mind, sing, whisper, taunt me with madness.”
Source: Moth Smoke
“I push away the questions. I don't look for frightening things anymore. Except somewhere, in the deepest recesses of my bones, I feel like they still look for me.”
Source: Starlings
“I push back against a deeply-entrenched tendency in American culture to label quickly and no longer even examine the labels that were initially stamped on a person. I don't have a problem with any of my "hyphenated" biography - I don't have any problem with that at all. The world would be a better place if our thread of hyphenation were truly embraced beyond mere naming and category.”
“I push every day against forces that say you have to go faster, be more effective, be more productive, you have to constantly outdo yourself, you have to constantly outdo your neighbor - all of the stuff that creates an incredibly productive society, but also a very neurotic one.”
“I push everyone I love away." He shrugged. "I don't mind you pushing me away if it means you love me, little sister.”
Source: Fire
“I push hard against the kitchen table as I stand up, my chair screeching against the floor. "You know, you're just as bad as the rest of them. You brought me up to know what's good and what's bad, when in reality you've turned a blind eye to the worst of the worst this whole time.”
Source: The Surrogates
“I push him from my mind. This is no act of easy omission on my part; I do not consign him casually to a forgotten past. It is rather an act of will--a kind of self-performed surgery on my soul...the bloodiest of mutilations.”
Source: One Thousand White Women: The Journals of May Dodd
“I push it all into the tree, using both hands. As I do, I feel the shame, the fear, the anxiety of it all transfer into the bark. I push the horrible word Emily used into it with a final shove. And I feel free. Because I know, after all of it, that there's nothing wrong with me. There is nothing wrong with me. I will not let people use my difference, as a stick to beat me with. I imagine throwing that stick into the river. Watching it disappear and float away. I press my forehead against the trunk of this giant tree.
"Mary," I breathe. "Jean." Another breath. "Maggie."
I leap back from the tree, as if I've been shocked by a spark. I breathe heavily, staring up at it. It seems less frightening. Less powerful.
I'm still breathing in and out as Mum, Dad, Nina and Keedie move to stand behind me. No one says anything. We stand, the five of us, by the tree and the river while all of the past blows away. And we stand steady.”
Source: A Kind of Spark
“I push my eye farther into the crack, smushing my cheek. The door rattles.
Her arm freezes. The needle stops. Instantly, her shadow fills the room, a mountain on the wall.
“Leidah?”
I hold my breath. No hiding in the wood-box this time. Before I even have time to pull my eye away, the door opens. My mother's face, like the moon in the dark hallway. She squints and takes a step toward me. “Lei-lee?”
I want to tell her I’ve had a nightmare about the Sisters, that I can’t sleep with all this whispering and worrying from her—and what are you sewing in the dark, Mamma? I try to move my lips, but I have no mouth. My tongue is gone; my nose is gone. I don’t have a face anymore.
It has happened again.
I am lying on my back, flatter than bread. My mother’s bare feet slap against my skin, across my belly, my chest. She digs her heel in, at my throat that isn’t there. I can see her head turning toward her bedroom. Snores crawl under the closed door. The door to my room is open, but she can’t see my bed from where she stands, can’t see that my bed is empty. She nods to herself: everything as it should be. Her foot grinds into my chin. The door to the sewing room closes behind her.
I struggle to sit up. I wiggle my hips and jiggle my legs. It is no use. I am stuck, pressed flat into the grain of wood under me.
But it’s not under me. It is me.
I have become the floor.
I know it’s true, even as I tell myself I am dreaming, that I am still in bed under the covers. My blood whirls inside the wood knots, spinning and rushing, sucking me down and down. The nicks of boot prints stomp and kick at my bones, like a bruise. I feel the clunk of one board to the next, like bumps of a wheel over stone. And then I am all of it, every knot, grain, and sliver, running down the hall, whooshing like a river, ever so fast, over the edge and down a waterfall, rushing from room to room. I pour myself under and over and through, feeling objects brush against me as I pass by. Bookshelves, bedposts, Pappa’s slippers, a fallen dressing gown, the stubby ends of an old chair. A mouse hiding inside a hole in the wall. Mor’s needle bobbing up and down.
How is this possible?
I am so wide, I can see both Mor and Far at the same time, even though they are in different rooms, one wide awake, the other fast asleep. I feel my father’s breath easily, sinking through the bed into me, while Mor’s breath fights against me, against the floor. In and out, each breath swimming away, away, at the speed of her needle, up up up in out in out outoutout—let me out, get me out, I want out.
That’s what Mamma is thinking, and I hear it, loud and clear. I strain my ears against the wood to get back into my own body. Nothing happens. I try again, but this time push hard with my arms that aren’t there. Nothing at all. I stop and sink, letting go, giving myself into the floor.
Seven, soon to be eight… it’s time, time’s up, time to go.
The needle is singing, as sure as stitches on a seam. I am inside the thread, inside her head. Mamma is ticking—onetwothreefourfivesix—
Seven. Seven what? And why is it time to go?
Don’t leave me, Mamma. I beg her feet, her knees, her hips, her chest, her heart, my begging spreading like a big squid into the very skin of her.
It’s then that I feel it.
Something is happening to Mamma. Something neither Pappa nor I have noticed.
She is becoming dust.
She is drier than the wood I have become.
- Becoming Leidah
Quoted by copying text from the epub version using BlueFire e-reader.”
Source: Becoming Leidah
“I push my own limits every day, every moment - in the studio, on the stage and beyond so it's truly a genuine fit.”
“I push my thigh against his. “Well, thank God.”
“Thank God what?” he asks. His hand slowly rubs up and down the place where my shoulder meets my arm. It makes me good shiver.
“That I don’t have a neck brace. It’s hard to rock a neck brace, especially if we’re still going to that dance.”
He leans in and kisses my nose. “If anyone could do it, you could.”
I tilt my head so our lips meet.
“Hormonal ones, I am right here. Me. The old lady otherwise known as your grandmother,” Betty says.
“Sorry. He’s just irresistible,” I say, settling back against him.
“Well, try to resist the irresistible,” Betty says knowingly as the truck bumps over a pothole.”
Source: Captivate
“I push myself as hard as I can. Sometimes that can be painful and stressful but inthe end it's worth the price... I like to play characters that I can draw from in my own life. I've invested so much of my life into my work that I almost don't have any choice.”
“I push myself to be the best I can be. I don't worry about what other people are doing, and I don't think about things I can't control.”
“I push myself to the limit.”
“I push open the door just as Tobias, who is sitting on the floor with one leg stretched out, hurls a butter knife at the opposite wall. It sticks, handle out, from a large hunk of cheese they positioned on top of the dresser. Caleb, standing beside him, stares in disbelief, first at the cheese and then at me.
"Tell me he's some kind of Dauntless prodigy," says Caleb. "Can you do this too?"
"With my right hand, maybe," I say. "But yes, Four is some kind of Dauntless prodigy.
Tobias's eyes catch mine on the word "Four." Caleb doesn't know that Tobias wears his excellence all the time in his own nickname.”
Source: Insurgent
“I push through the door of the market into the fragrance of Stargazer lilies and roses, then coffee brewing and briny oysters fresh from the coast. I stroll the aisles as if in a museum, looking at every item, loading work recipe ingredients into the wire handbasket along with the odd little goodie: Cozy Shock flan, Scharffenberger chocolate. What I'd really like is ice cream: Tillamook Brown Cow or a Dove dark chocolate on chocolate ice cream bar- heaven on a stick- but it would melt long before I could get home. I grab another Scharffenberger bar to compensate.
Inside the gourmet deli case, white plastic tags poke out of luscious mounds of cheese, each with handwritten names bordering on the orgasmic: BURRATA WITH TRUFFLES, EVORA, BRESCIANELLA, BLEU D'AUVERGNE. I can almost feel the creamy sensation against my tongue, smell the musk of perfect aging, taste its tang,”
Source: Eating Heaven
“I push throughthe wind to the north-facing window and stand before it. 'I will bring her back!' I shout into the darkness. I do this because I know Rhauk will be listening.”
Source: Old Magic
“I push to be in good films and good TV shows. I don't really pick and choose. I pick and choose what I will read for, and I've gotten to the point where I'm being offered stuff.”
“I pushed against him but he held me tight.
'You're delusional' I said.
'I'm the delusional guy whose going to keep you alive'
There was a fire behind his eyes. I set my jaw.
'You're the delusional guy who killed me in the first place”
Source: Evertrue
“I pushed closer, afraid that even naked we wouldn't be close enough to satisfy this new hunger.”
Source: Love and Other Words
“I pushed forward suddenly, the head of his cock teasing my entrance open in bliss. But a sudden jerk from Ryker left me painfully empty once more, and I whined in frustration.
"Just say it," he teased. "Do you like it a little rough? All you have to do is say yes."
Fine. Ass.
"Yes," I hissed. "Yes, I do."
Instant pressure hit me as he slid his length into me in one go. I was so wet, there was no friction stopping him as he filled me completely. Tight, hot, hard. I took in a sharp breath and he gave me a satisfied hum.
"There now, that wasn't so hard," he mused.
Smack.
Ryker shoved into me just a little harder at the same time he smacked me right on the mark, and I screamed. I was so hot, and wet, and full of him that I could hardly keep myself from unraveling. Thankfully, his hands stayed firmly in place, helping to hold me still as he slid out again, only to thrust inside once more.
"Fuck, Danica," Ryker rumbled. "Your pretty little ass is turning the hottest shade of pink."
I was breathless as Ryker thrust again and again, pushing me higher and higher. Sometimes he would smack the mark again, and I was sure I would be feeling it in the morning but I couldn't bring myself to care. All I could care about was Ryker and what he did to me. I felt wholly and truly right with him, and my head was in a fog as the orgasm hit me hard.
"Ryker!" I shouted as he thrust at just the right moment and all the tight muscles in my body came loose. Floating, floating and falling and clenching and dropping into a boneless heap. I was still reeling from the high he had started in me when I felt his hot release as well. Ryker came hard, gripping my hip as he shoved in as deep as he could. The hot, burning stretch of him shoving so hard coupled with the intensity of my own postorgasm shaking pulled another cry from me.
When we were both spent and he was still over me, staring down in satisfied confidence, he leaned in with a light kiss. "Good girl, you take me so fucking well."
My ass stung, I was filled to the brim, and I liked it.
Releasing my hip, he slid out of me and I groaned at the fleeting feeling of fullness. When wetness trickled out of me, more than just my own arousal, I pressed my thighs together.”
Source: Dirty Lying Dragons