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I Quotes

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All I Quotes

“I turn my body from the sun. What ho, Tashtego! let me hear thy hammer. Oh! ye three unsurrendered spires of mine; thou uncracked keel; and only god-bullied hull; thou firm deck, and haughty helm, and Pole-pointed prow,--death-glorious ship! must ye then perish, and without me? Am I cut off from the last fond pride of meanest shipwrecked captains? Oh, lonely death on lonely life! Oh, now I feel my topmost greatness lies in my topmost grief. Ho, ho! from all your furthest bounds, pour ye now in, ye bold billows of my whole foregone life, and top this one piled comber of my death! Towards thee I roll, thou all-destroying but unconquering whale; to the last I grapple with thee; from hell's heart I stab at thee; for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee. Sink all coffins and all hearses to one common pool! and since neither can be mine, let me then tow to pieces, while still chasing thee, though tied to thee, thou damned whale! THUS, I give up the spear!”

“I turn my eyes to the schools & universities of Europe And there behold the loom of Locke whose woof rages dire, Washed by the water-wheels of Newton. Black the cloth In heavy wreaths folds over every nation; cruel works Of many wheels I view, wheel without wheel, with cogs tyrannic Moving by compulsion each other: not as those in Eden, which Wheel within wheel in freedom revolve, in harmony & peace.”

“I turn my face and force the corners of my mouth up. There may even be a bit if eyelash fluttering going on. He just rolls his dark blue eyes at me, obviously not impressed—or maybe I just look like I have something stuck in my eye. Sometimes it would be nice to make use of some feminine wiles. I sigh and drop my shoulders. "Out." "You're going to have to do better than that. You know I'm not supposed to let you out without an escort." "Please. I can't breathe in here." I step forward, stare up into his face, and lower my voice. "Do you know Emily wanted me to come to sewing circle this morning? Can you even imagine?" Flint's mouth rounds up into a smile and he coughs to cover his chuckle. "No, Jax. I can't possibly imagine you doing anything remotely feminine.”

“I turn my face to the window as the train starts to move. Charles suggested I take the car, but I prefer this strange elevated route out of town, the rooftop tour of south London as the carriages rattle between spires and old smokestacks and the tips of poplars; the sudden glimpses into school playgrounds and street markets and quiet litter-strewn alleys, narrow avenues of blackened brick. Little by little the city falls away, like something giving up, and then the acoustics of the carriage change, and we're out in the open: meadows riven with streams, the fast blue shadows of clouds on the hills.”

“I turn on my side and study the beam close to my head, next to the entrance. There are names scratched in the wood, some deep and some barely visible. Davis, I read. Rodríguez. Eames. One that could be Hicks, or maybe Ricks. Why do they carve their names, when only strangers will read them? A name is only a meaningless word with nothing to attach it to. Maybe it is enough just to be remembered, if only for your name; here is proof of life, faceless and voiceless but unmistakable. Immortality of a strange sort: a eulogy in wood.”

“I turn on my side, propping myself up on my elbow. A portion of her hair has fallen out of its entrapment of pins and curls around her neck. Reaching out a tentative finger, I brush the thick lock of hair. It’s soft to the touch, and a faint fragrance of apple and chamomile arises when I stroke the curling strand. She sucks in a quick breath when my finger brushes her chin. I stop, gauging whether to proceed or not, but Molly doesn’t protest. I see a surprised welcome in her eyes. The backs of my fingers stroke up her jawline to her cheek, on the soft, smooth side of her face. All the sounds around us still; the birds quiet, King’s yapping fades, and the breeze no longer whistles in my ear. All I can hear is the drum of my own heart. Her eyes widen, and she appears to be holding her breath, as I do mine. Of their own accord, my eyes focus on her lips, a perfect pair of petals in the midst of a half-ravaged flower. I dare to move closer; my lips hover inches above hers, the petals quiver, and our breath mingles once more.”

“I turn on the machines and start to think about ideas and take it from there, it usually begins if it's a beat, a track creating a beat/beats and then the bass-line/lines, then comes the sounds--drones, atmospherics etc, then the edits of various sounds I created and keep going till I feel I have enough sounds ideas to start working and building a track. I have many banks of sounds that we hear that can be manipulated in the machines.”

“I turn sentences around. That’s my life. I write a sentence and then I turn it around. Then I look at it and I turn it around again. Then I have lunch. Then I come back in and write another sentence. Then I have tea and turn the new sentence around. Then I read the two sentences over and turn them both around. Then I lie down on my sofa and think. Then I get up and throw them out and start from the beginning. And if I knock off from this routine for as long as a day, I’m frantic with boredom and a sense of waste.”

“I turn sentences around. That's my life. I write a sentence and then I turn it around. Then I look at it and I turn it around again. Then I have lunch. Then I come back in and write another sentence. Then I have tea and turn the new sentence around. Then I read the two sentences over and turn them both around. Then I lie down on my sofa and think. Then I get up and throw them out and start from the beginning.”

“I turn to our father, searching for an ally. "So Dad, is it legal for Bronte to date out of her species?" Dad looks up from his various layers of pepperoni and breadless cheese. "Date?" he says. Apparently the idea of Bronte dating is like an electromagnet sucking away all other words in the sentence, so that's the only word he hears. "You're not funny," Bronte says to me. "No, I'm serious," I tell her. "Isn't he like... a Sasquatch or something?" "Date?" says Dad.”

“I turn to the full-length mirror ornamented with intricate golden appliqué. The bodice contours my body wonderfully, its sheer fabric extenuating my every arch and dip, with pearls perfectly concealing the parts of me otherwise indecent to expose. Jasmine blossoms ascend the skirt and billowing sleeves, which are as thin as water. I feel like a princess of the sea, held in the most delicate curl of sea-foam. I slowly run my hands down the pearl detailing, imagining a version of myself worth loving--- me as a bride before I say I do, the moment heaven is promised forever.”

“I turned 25. And I don't feel like... whatever, age is just a number. I still feel very young and excited about life and everything. For the first time ever I began to take a look at life and really value it, and realize that there are so many things that I want to do; travel, I want to see the world. I realized that I want to take more time for myself and take more time to see the world and spend time with friends. That sounds so basic but I never really realized that before.”