Quotessence
Home / Quotes / M Quotes

M Quotes

Browse famous quotes beginning with M. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.

All M Quotes

“My fingers curl through the holes in the wicker, through the wet grass beneath it, trying to hold tight to the sharp blades of the present. Somewhere in my brain a sinkhole is bubbling over, and each bubble contains a scene from a tiny sunken world ... I have never been the prophet of my own past before. It makes me wonder how the healthy dreamers can bear to sleep at all, if sleep means that you have to peer into that sinkhole by yourself. ... I had almost forgotten this occipital sorrow, the way you are so alone with the things you see in dreams.”

IfsWorldWayTryingMeanDreamPastMy OwnSleepBrainWonderBearsSorrowHealthySceneFingersForgottenTinyHolesGrassProphetDreamerBubblesWetPeersBladesCurlsSinkholes
Author:Karen Russell
Create image

“My fingers danced above the open box as I tried to anticipate which flavor would be the very best. Lionel, equal parts benevolent and impatient, steered me to a dusty rose-colored one; it was the famous Ispahan flavor. I bit into the shell that, poof, crunched ever so delicately before collapsing in a delightfully chewy and moist mouthful. And then the storm of flavors hit me. Bright raspberry, exotic lychee, and a whiff of rose. There was so much power in that pretty little thing. It was a delicacy packed with skill, imagination, poetry, and, God, give me another one!”

RoseParisFlavorsMacaronsIspahan
Author:Amy Thomas
Create image

“My fingers draw up her back and tangle into her hair. “They’ll never separate us.” “Never,” she repeats. Our lips crush together, our bodies pressed tight. An inferno of lips and hands and movements that continues to grow in heat. The blanket falls away as Rachel slides her legs so that she straddles me. On the verge of burning up completely, I groan and cling to her small frame. Her hands drift under my shirt, leaving a singeing trail. We’ve become a wildfire. Almost unstoppable. I kiss her neck and the beautiful sounds escaping her mouth encourage me further. My hands skim under her shirt, up her back, linger for seconds near her bra, and I gently nip her ear when I feel lace. Images pour into my mind of what she’d look like with her shirt off, then her jeans. My fist traps strands of her hair. “I want you, Rachel.” And because I do, I kiss her fully on the mouth—nothing left to the imagination. Every fantasy becomes a reality with that one embrace.”

WantEmbraceKissIntimateTouchNeverIsaiahSeparateRachel YoungUndress
Author:Katie McGarry
Create image

“My fingers grazed his. Warm and sturdy- patient, as if waiting to see what else I might do. Maybe it was the wind, but I stroked a finger down his. And as I turned to him more fully, something blinding and tinkling slammed into my face. I reeled back, crying out as I bent over, shielding my face against the light that I could still see against my shut eyes. Rhys let out a startled laugh. A laugh. And when I realised that my eyes hadn't been singed out of their sockets, I whirled on him. 'I could have been blinded!' I hissed, shoving him. He took a look at my face and burst out laughing again. Real laughter, open and delighted and lovely. I wiped at my face, and when I pulled my hands down, I gasped. Pale green light- like drops of paint- glowed in flecks on my hand. Splattered star-spirit. I didn't know if I should be horrified or amused. Or disgusted. When I went to rub it off, Rhys caught my hand. 'Don't,' he said, still laughing. 'It looks like your freckles are glowing.' My nostrils flared, and I went to shove him again, not caring if my new strength knocked him off the balcony. He could summon wings; he could deal with it. He sidestepped me, veering toward the balcony rail, but not fast enough to avoid the careening star that collided with the side of his face. He leaped back with a curse. I laughed, the sound rasping out of me. Not a chuckle or snort, but a cackling laugh. And I laughed again, and again, as he lowered his hands from his eyes. The entire left side of his face had been hit. Like heavenly war paint, that's what it looked like. I could see why he didn't want me to wipe mine away. Rhys was examining his hands, covered in the dust, and I stepped toward him, peering at the way it glowed and glittered. He went still as death as I took one of his hands in my own and traced a star shape on the top of his palm, playing with the glimmer and shadows, until it looked like one of the stars that had hit us. His fingers tightened on mine, and I looked up. He was smiling at me. And looked so un-High-Lord-like with the glowing dust on the side of his face that I grinned back. I hadn't even realised what I'd done until his own smile faded,, and his mouth partly slightly. 'Smile again,' he whispered. I hadn't smiled for him. Ever. Or laughed. Under the Mountain, I had never grinned, never chuckled. And afterward... And this male before me... my friend... For all that he had done, I had never given him either. Even when I had just... I had just painted something. On him. For him. I'd- painted again. So I smiled at him, broad and without restraint. 'You're exquisite,' he breathed.”

FunnyLaughingSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronRhysandRhysA Court Of Mist And FurySmilingStarfall
Author:Sarah J. Maas
Create image

“My fingers numb, I reached into my robe, and it took a while for me to feel the crinkled paper I was looking for. I slipped it out and unfolded the sheet on which I had drawn my brother's face. His lightly shaded eyes, his round face, his timid smile. He belonged to the past, a place he would never leave, not even to come looking for me. I kissed the sheet and then tore it in half, then in half again, the paper hissing with each motion. I opened my fingers and let the torn pieces be swept away like moths on the wind.”

Letting Go
Author:June Hur
Create image

“My fingers stung and ached, but I still held on to the rose as I said, 'I don't know why I feel so tremendously ashamed of myself for leaving them. Why it feels so selfish and horrible to paint. I shouldn't- shouldn't feel that way, should I? I know I shouldn't, but I can't help it.' The rose hung limply from my fingers. 'All those years, what I did for them... And they didn't try to stop you from taking me.' There it was, the giant pain that cracked me in two if I thought about it too long. 'I don't know why I expected them to- why I believed that the puca's illusion was real that night. I don't know why I bother still thinking about it. Or still caring.' He was silent long enough that I added. 'Compared to you- to your borders and magic being weakened- I suppose my self-pity is absurd.' 'If it grieves you,' he said, the words caressing my bones, 'then I don't think it's absurd at all.' 'Why?' A flat question and I chucked the rose into the bushes. He took my hands. His callused fingers, strong and sturdy, were gentle as he lifted my bleeding hand to his mouth and kissed my palm. As if that were answer enough. His lips were smooth against my skin, his breath warm, and my knees buckled as he lifted my other hand to his mouth and kissed it, too. Kissed it carefully- in a way that made heat begin pounding in my core, between my legs. When he withdrew, my blood shone on his mouth. I glanced at my hands, which he still held, and found the wounds gone. I looked at his face again, at his gilded mask, the tanness of his skin, the red of his blood-covered lips as he murmured. 'Don't feel bad for one moment about doing what brings you joy.' He stepped closer, releasing one of my hands to tuck the rose I'd plucked behind my ear. I didn't know how it had gotten into his hand, or where the thorns had gone.”

PainHurtSarah J MaasUpsetAshamedFeyreFeyre ArcheronA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinPalm Kiss
Author:Sarah J. Maas
Create image

“My fingers traced the melody on an invisible keyboard—my usual way to connect with the music, to feel its emotions on my fingertips. I touched the keys softly, as if gliding my hands through water, but the musical notes kept slipping between my fingers like bubbles, waltzing away in the blue radiance.”

IfsWayFeelsHandsWaterEmotionKeysBlueNotesFingersMusicalInvisibleTouchedMelodyUsualBubblesKeyboardsRadianceSlippingFingertipsGlidingMusical Notes
Author:Ella Leya
Create image

“My fingers try to grab onto the net. I’m pulled away too quickly, dragged through the snow. Everything is white and flying and painful. “Nick!” I claw at the snow, trying to slow down. There’s nothing to hold on to. I kick and kick. The hands clutch my ankles. Flipping my torso over I get one quick glance of their backs. They’re wearing parkas and hats and look normal, like people, but faster. I smash onto my face again and lift up my head just in time to see Nick snarling inside the net. He’s transformed again. “Nick!” I yell, but snow pours into my mouth. Sharp cold pain smashes through my teeth and into my skull. I cough and try again. “Nick!” He raises himself up onto four legs and howls, a long, searing cry of anguish and rage. My heart breaks for him, caught there. I have to help him escape. I have to get free. I kick again. “Let me go.” Pain shoots through my head. Fireworks. Explosions. All inside my brain. The white world goes dark and I know what’s about to happen. I’m the one leaving. I am the one gone.”

FightKidnappedZara WhiteNick ColtAttacked
Author:Carrie Jones
Create image

“My firm conviction is that if wide-spread Eugenic reforms are not adopted during the next hundred years or so, our Western Civilization is inevitably destined to such a slow and gradual decay as that which has been experienced in the past by every great ancient civilization. The size and the importance of the United States throws on you a special responsibility in your endeavours to safeguard the future of our race. Those who are attending your Congress will be aiding in this endeavour, and though you will gain no thanks from your own generation, posterity will, I believe, learn to realize the great dept it owes to all the workers in this field.”

EvolutionEugenicsDarwinismSurvival Of The FittestPopulation ControlSterilizationSocial DarwinismSterilisation
Author:Leonard Darwin
Create image

“My first act as president is a prayer. I ask you to bow your heads: Heavenly Father, we bow our heads and thank You for Your love. Accept our thanks for the peace that yields this day and the shared faith that makes its continuance likely. Make us strong to do Your work, willing to head and hear Your will, and write on our hearts these words: 'Use power to help people." For we know that we are given power, not to advance our own purposes, nor to make a great show in the world, nor a name. There is but one just use of power, and it is to serve people. Help us to remember it Lord, Amen.”

PeopleKnowsWorldWritingFirstsHeartHelpingUseShowsRememberPurposeAsksFatherNamesStrongGivenPresidentPrayerAcceptingLordWillingThanksPresidentialHeavenlyThis DayYieldBowsHeavenly FatherAmenContinuanceUse Of Power
Author:George H. W. Bush
Create image

“My first agent dissuaded me from calling myself 'Cumberbatch.' I had six months of not very productive time with her, so I changed agents. The new one said, 'Why aren't you using your family name? It's a real attention-grabber.' I worried, 'How much is it going to cost to put my name in lights?' But then I decided that's not my problem.”

FirstsSaidRealProblemLightNamesAttentionChangedMonthsCallingCostSixDecidedAgentsWorriedProductiveSix MonthsFamily Name
Author:Benedict Cumberbatch
Create image

“My first album was more about me making a statement, as I felt like I was kind of stuck in the smaller scene of underground House and Techno when the music I produce actually spanned a much wider range of genres, including the more Pop/Trip Hop stuff and more song-based compositions. Comfort was to kind of show that I wasn't just about one thing. Working on Take Flight was my chance to step back and merge the many worlds of music I enjoy working in and showcase it all through a journey of 24 tracks.”

WorldKindHouseEnjoyChanceJourneyComfortSceneTrackStuckFlightComposition
Author:Maya Jane Coles
Create image

“My first American ancestor, gentlemen, was an Indian-an early Indian. Your ancestors skinned him alive, and I am an orphan. All those Salem witches were ancestors of mine. Your people made it tropical for them. . . . The first slave brought into New England out of Africa was an ancestor of mine-for I am a mixed breed, an infinitely shaded and exquisite Mongrel.”

PeopleFirstsMadeAliveMinesEnglandSlaveMade ItIndianGentlemanWitchAncestorExquisiteOrphanNew EnglandTropicalSalem
Author:Mark Twain
Create image