I Quotes
Browse famous quotes beginning with I. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.
“I sip my coffee. I look at the mountain, which is still doing its tricks, as you look at a still-beautiful face belonging to a person who was once your lover in another country years ago: with fond nostalgia, and recognition, but no real feelings save a secret astonishment that you are now strangers. Thanks. For the memories. It is ironic that the one thing that all religions recognize as separating us from our creator--our very self-consciousness--is also the one thing that divides us from our fellow creatures. It was a bitter birthday present from evolution, cutting us off at both ends.”
Source: PILGRIM AT TINKER CREEK
“I sip my wine as look at the sky and hope you’re alright. Just like all those times I sat and looked you dead in the eye.”
“I sip the Dom P watching Gandhi til I'm charged - writing in my book of rhymes, all the words past the margin”
“I sipped my hot, sweet, milky tea, feeling myself settle, center. I couldn't possibly stay in a state of high emotion, and there was a lot to get through in the next few days or weeks. Right this minute, I could enjoy this table in a bakery in a small English village. The place was clearing out, and the chelsea bun beckoned. It was a coil of pastry laced with currants and a hint of lemon zest, quite sweet. I gave it the attention it deserved, since a person couldn't be pigging out on pastries and eggs and bacon all the time. Not me, anyway. Unlike my slender mother, I was built of rounder stuff, and I hadn't been able to walk as much as was my habit.
In the meantime, the tea was excellent, served in a sturdy silver pot with a mug that didn't seem to match any other mug on the tables. The room smelled of yeast and coffee and cinnamon and the perfume of a woman who had walked by. Light classical music played quietly. From the kitchen came voices engaged in the production of all the goods in the case. A rich sense of well-being spread through me, and I realized that my leg didn't hurt at all.”
Source: The Art of Inheriting Secrets
“I sipped my own coffee, heavy on the sugar and cream, trying to make up for the late work the night before. Caffeine and sugar, the two basic food groups.”
Source: Laurell K. Hamilton's Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter collection 11-15
“I sit alone at present, dreaming darkly of a Dun.”
Source: Fly Leaves
“I sit alone in a dead world. The wind blows hot and dry, and the dust gathers like particles of memory waiting to be swept away. I pray for forgetfulness, yet my memory remains strong, as does the outstretched arm of the oppressive air. It seems as if the wind has been there since the beginning of the nightmare. Sometimes loud and harsh, a thousand sharp needles scratching at my reddened skin. Sometimes a whisper, a curious sigh in the black of night, of words more frightening than pain. I know now the wind has been speaking to me. Only I couldn't understand because I was too scared. I am scared now as I write these words. Still, there is nothing else to do.”
Source: Whisper of Death
“I sit and feel lonely. Sitting and feeling lonely is something I am a spectacular success at. I can do it for hours. Everyone is good at something.”
Source: Ruby and the Stone Age Diet
“I sit and I write automatically. I don't really try to write. My subconscious mind takes over and writes the songs for me. Songs come very easily for me. When I'm inspired, it takes me 20 minutes to write a song.”
“I sit, and moan,
Like one who once had wings.”
“I sit and pass judgment on myself: this is dull, this is unclear, this is insignificant: ergo I am dull, I am unclear, I am insignificant.”
“I sit and ponder my existence: how I'm here, what put me here in these thoughts, these feelings, birthed from a timeless sleep, what it felt like, or rather the lack thereof, to not have been and now to 'be', and suddenly, I realize how absurd I am to exist, the fragility in my understanding of existence; I then wonder why the supernatural, the thought of other beings, of God or of gods, must be distinctly absurd - by which I am no longer sure. 'If I exist and I have made myself absurd to me, then why not they exist while merely believed absurd by me?' Perhaps it is true that in a wandering head, one full of wonders, the natural becomes supernatural and the supernatural becomes preternatural (or rational within the sights of discovery and explanation), just as the return home after a life-long journey feels, for a moment, foreign after the many experiences.”
Source: Healology
“I sit and talk to God, and he just laughs at my plans.”
“I sit and talk to kids all day, because I feel like they carry the most wisdom.”
“I sit and think with a drink about how I'm gonna win.”
“I sit and wonder why no one uses the shot fake. The shot fake, when used correctly, can eliminate a defender”
“I sit around and play acoustic guitar - usually acoustic, sometimes electric, occasionally piano, but more often guitar, just trying to come up with tunes. Ideas kind of pop into your head.”
“I sit around too much, waiting for other people to do stuff and angsting about stuff they've done, without doing anything myself.”
Source: Ruby Oliver 1: The Boyfriend List
“I sit astride life like a bad rider on a horse. I only owe it to the horse's good nature that I am not thrown off at this very moment.”
“I sit at a table close to his desk. Ivy is in this class. She sits by the door. I keep staring at her, trying to make her look at me. That happens in movies - people can feel it when oother people stare at them and they just have to turn around and say something. Either Ivy has a great force field, or my lazer vision isn't very strong.”
“I sit at home and read books. I watch movies. I watch television. I go and play golf. I don't go to nightclubs. I don't go out to dinner that often. I'm not a big party guy.”
“I sit at my desk
each night with no place to go,
opening the wrinkled maps of Milwaukee and Buffalo,
the whole U.S.,
its cemeteries, its arbitrary time zones,
through routes like small veins, capitals like small stones.”
Source: Selected Poems of Anne Sexton
“I sit at my desk at 2 in the morning, desperately trying to remind myself that Miss Greenberg is a lady. A lady whose beauty far surpasses what I noticed when we first met. A lady with lovely curves, delightful freckles dusting the bridge of her nose, and a mouth that will now haunt my dreams--- but a lady nonetheless.
It would appear that I must also remind a certain traitorous part of my anatomy--- one that has not responded thusly to a woman in over one hundred years--- of this fact as well.”
Source: My Roommate Is a Vampire
“I sit at my door, smoking a cigarette and sipping my absinthe, and I enjoy every day without a care in the world”
“I sit at my table en grand seigneur , And when I have done, throw a crust to the poor; Not only the pleasure, one's self, of good living, But also the pleasure of now and then giving. So pleasant it is to have money, heigh ho! So pleasant it is to have money.”
Source: Poems
“I sit at my window and the words fly past me like birds — with God's help I catch some.”
Source: Wide Sargasso Sea
“I sit at my window gazing The world passes by, nods to me And is gone.”
“I sit at the piano for a couple of hours and tinker away until I get something. I am a nocturnal spirit, like an owl.”
“I sit back and try to think. I've been discovering, much to my dismay, that I'm not a criminal mastermind or anything. I'm just brute force and my powers in no way include super-intelligence, which kind of pisses me off.”
Source: The Girl Who Would Be King
“I sit back on my bed cross-legged and find myself rubbing the smooth iridescent surface of the pearl back and forth against my lips. For some reason, it’s soothing. A cool kiss”
Source: Mockingjay (The Hunger Games, Book 3)
“I sit before flowers hoping they will train me in the art of opening up”
“I sit before flowers hoping they will train me in the art of opening up I stand on mountain tops believing that avalanches will teach me to let go I know nothing but I am here to learn.”
“I sit beside my lonely fire
And pray for wisdom yet:
For calmness to remember
Or courage to forget.”
“I sit beside the fire and think
Of all that I have seen
Of meadow flowers and butterflies
In summers that have been
Of yellow leaves and gossamer
In autumns that there were
With morning mist and silver sun
And wind upon my hair
I sit beside the fire and think
Of how the world will be
When winter comes without a spring
That I shall ever see
For still there are so many things
That I have never seen
In every wood in every spring
There is a different green
I sit beside the fire and think
Of people long ago
And people that will see a world
That I shall never know
But all the while I sit and think
Of times there were before
I listen for returning feet
And voices at the door”
“I sit beside the fire and think of all that I have seen, of meadow-flowers and butterflies in summers that have been; Of yellow leaves and gossamer in autumns that there were, with morning mist and silver sun and wind upon my hair.
I sit beside the fire and think of how the world will be when winter comes without a spring that I shall ever see.
For still there are so many things that I have never seen: in every wood in every spring there is a different green.
I sit beside the fire and think of people long ago, and people who will see a world that I shall never know.
But all the while I sit and think of times there were before, I listen for returning feet and voices at the door.
(Fellowship of the Ring, Book II, chpt 3)”
“I sit beside the fire and think of all that I have seen, of meadow-flowers and butterflies in summers that have been; Of yellow leaves and gossamer in autumns that there were, with morning mist and silver sun and wind upon my hair.”
Source: The Lord of the Rings: One Volume
“I sit beside the fire and think of people long ago, and of people who will see a world that I shall never know.”
Source: The Lord of the Rings: One Volume
“I sit beside the moment
That stares at silence
Before anything could happen”
Source: Quiet: A collection of poems
“I sit between my brother the mountain and my sister the sea. We three are one in loneliness, and the love that binds us together is deep and strong and strange.”
Source: Kahlil Gibran: Masterpieces
“I sit, but I'm still stiff as a board. My hands are clenched tight, as if I'm holding my tears in my palms and if I loose my grip, they'll come tumbling out.”
Source: Being Sloane Jacobs
“I sit by the embers of our dead love, still burning for you.”
Source: These Things
“I sit by the lotus-lake, eat God,
& count water-pearls over waxy
petals. Again, I unpeel
the black sky & trace teal mountains.”
“I sit down and create atmospheres, start playing guitar or piano and just sing whatever comes out of my mouth.”
“I sit down and draw from my lyric book. I sit down and start looking through it and see if there is anything that strikes me that I've written.”
“I sit down at my desk pretty early in the morning and write all day until about 4 or 5 p.m.”
“I sit down religiously every morning, I sit down for eight hours every day - and the sitting down is all.”
Source: The Selected Letters of Joseph Conrad
“I sit down to the piano regularly at nine-o'clock in the morning and Mesdames les Muses have learned to be on time for that rendezvous.”
“I sit down with a guitar player and if there's a situation I feel strongly about, or a guy that I've been thinking about or if I'm mad at a guy, it comes out.”
“I sit every once in a while and I think about plays and films I can do with William Petersen into our eighties. He's the most incredible scene partner I've ever had.”
“I sit for a long stretch of time, focusing on that pain like an original point, like the early ache of displacement that explodes into the shape of our lives, like the fires which rage around us for the entirety of our days, threatening to swallow us blank. But as I wrap my breath around that original point, as I sink deeper and deeper into the loss, I feel a shiver like presence. I squint and imagine the pit splintering open. A spot of red at the center: Is this joy?”
Source: The Sea Once Swallowed Me: A Memoir of Love, Solitude, and the Limits of Language