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M Quotes

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All M Quotes

“Minthe. Her name is a weighted feeling in my chest. I’ve been jealous before. Not like this. There is venom behind it. I wonder how long they’ve known each other. How did they meet? Do they go on dates? Does she own a hair comb identical to the one he gave me? I want to know, even though each answer would come with a sting. I could tell him the truth. Get her trouble. Maybe she would even get fired. …Would they break up? I don’t like feeling this way.”

“Minulle 2010-luvun suomalainen maisema on välitila, jossa varikot, voimalinjat, huoltoasemien raadot ja lähiöiden takaa avautuvat ratapihat sekoittuvat niittyihin, punamultavärjättyihin liitereihin ja metsiin. Paikallissijat muuttuvat sijoilleen jääneeksi irtaimistoksi, purkutoimenpiteiden ja elämänmittaisten urakoiden jälkeisiksi, joista arktisen ilmaston hyväilyssä tulee hitaasti arkeologiaa.”

“Minunata consecință a ideii că se contopesc două suflete și două voințe este că celălalt nu mai are de ce să-mi fie recunoscător mie pentru «serviciile ori favorurile pe care i le fac», la fel cum eu nu am de ce să-mi mulțumesc mie pentru faptele pe care le săvârșesc spre propriul meu bine. Prietenii de suflet nu numai că refuză să calculeze costurile și avantajele prieteniei, dar nu sunt nici măcar conștienți de ele. Însăși ideea de «favoare», «datorie» sau «recunoștință» e separatoare și nu poate decât să le repugne sufletelor cu adevărat contopite într-unul singur.”

“Minus: Papa, I'm scared. When I was hugging Karin in the boat, reality burst open. Do you understand? David: I do. Minus: Reality burst open, and I tumbled out. It's like a dream. Anything can happen. Anything. David: I know. Minus: I can't live in this new world. David: Yes, you can. But you must have something to hold on to. Minus: What would that be? A god? Give me proof of God. You can't. David: Yes, I can. But you have to listen carefully. Minus: Yes, I need to listen. David: I can only give you a hint of my own hope. It is to know that love exists as something real in the human world. Minus: A special kind of love, I suppose? David: All kinds, Minus. The highest and the lowest, the most absurd and the most sublime. All kinds of love. Minus: And the longing for love? David: Longing and denial. Trust and distrust. Minus: Then love is the proof? David: I don't know if love is proof of God's existence, or if love is God himself. Minus: To you, love and God are the same thing. David: That thought helps me in my emptiness and despair. Minus: Tell me more, Papa. David: Suddenly the emptiness turns into abundance, and despair into life. It's like a reprieve, Minus, from a death sentence. Minus: Papa... If it is as you say, then Karin is surrounded by God, since we love her. David: Yes. Minus: Can that help her? David: I believe so. Minus: ... Papa, would you mind if I go for a run? David: Off you go. I'll make dinner. See you in an hour. Minus: ... Papa spoke to me.”

“Minutes later, as they lay tangled together, dazed in the aftermath of their loving, Callie began to chuckle silently against Gabriel's side. Lifting his head to find her grinning a wide, silly grin, he drawled, "What is it that has you so amused, lovely?" "I was simply thinking"- she stopped to catch her breath from the laughter and started again- "I was merely thinking that if that is what riding astride is like, the female population is missing out on one of life's finer experiences." The last word was lost as she dissolved once more onto giggles. He caught her against him in a fierce hug and sighed, unable to keep himself from smiling up at the ceiling as he said, "You know, Empress, men do not appreciate laughter at this particular moment. It's devastating to the self-confidence." Her head snapped up and she took in his amused countenance. "Oh, my apologies, good sir," she teased. "I would hate to damage such a fragile ego as that of the Marquess of Ralston." With a playful growl, he pinned her to the mattress. "Minx. You shall pay for that." And he began to kiss down the side of her neck, nibbling across her collarbone until she sighed with pleasure. "If this is how I must pay for it, my lord, you may guarantee I shall tease you a great deal in the coming months." "More than months, I hope," he drawled, distracted by her lovely white breasts. "Years. Decades even." "Decades," she repeated, awestruck. My God. He's going to be my husband. "Mmm-hmm," he murmured against her skin before pulling away from her. "Which is why, despite how very difficult it shall be for me to leave you warm and lush in your bed, I shall console myself with the fact that, very soon, I shan't have to do so ever again.”

“Minutes later she returns from the open kitchen at the end of the restaurant with two brown plates of steamed jjin mandu on a paper napkin, the fat pockets of dough stuffed to bursting with shrimp and chives, and a plate of untidy crisp pork dumplings that I would be happy to live on for the rest of my life. There is a tiny plastic dish of soy and another of orange kimchi and a deep black bowl of soup with shredded omelette and spring onions floating to the surface. I pour the sticky soy into a little white dipping dish and add a few drops of the dark vinegar. My dumplings, doughy, spicy, scorching-hot and as comforting as an old teddy bear, are gone in a heartbeat.”

“Minutes later the waitress brought back a cup the size of a soup bowl filled with steaming chocolate-flavored coffee and topped with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. Tianna realized she hadn't eaten anything since the bite of muffin early in the morning. She sipped the brew, enjoying the rich, sweet taste, and listened to Serena recite a poem about her demon lover. It made Tianna think more than ever that Serena was some kind of witch or worse. How could she know so much about temptation and choosing between good and evil? The words sent chills through Tianna.”

“Minutes passed by. A little blue butterfly landed on my nose. I blinked at it and it fluttered to my ear. A big yellow butterfly gently floated over and landed on my paw. Soon a whole swarm of them floated up and down around me, like a swirl of multicolored petals. It happened in my backyard, too, if the magic was strong enough. Butterflies were small and light, and very magic sensitive. For some reason I made them feel safe and they gravitated to me like iron shavings to a magnet. They ruined my ferocious badass image, but you’d have to be a complete beast to swat butterflies. If a baby deer frolicked out from between the buildings trying to cuddle up, I would roar. I wouldn’t bite it, but I would roar. I had my limits.”

“Minä en halua olla tavallisten ihmisten keskellä. Minä en halua olla tavallinen ihminen, minä haluan olla bisnesihminen. Rakastan verhoa, kun se vedetään. Ele on niin törkeä, napakka ja tehokas. Suih, sinne jäitte te possut, täällä istuvat tärkeät ihmiset. Minä haluaisin kuljettaa sitä verhoa mukanani läpi elämäni ja vetää sitä kiinni itseni ja muiden väliin: suih vain verhon taakse jäisivät juntit, natsit, huutajat ja hirviöt, tällä toisella puolella on rauha ja kohteliaisuus.”

“Minä inhosin Janne Niemisen pyöreitä aurinkolaseja, mutta en ollut aiemmin edes tajunnut, että minullakin oli sellaiset, ne vain olivat siniset. Minä olin Janne Nieminen. Minulla oli baskerin paikalla keskijakaus, verkka-asun sijasta flanelliliivi ja poolopaita, paidan kanssa samaa kangasta olevat housut ja kokoelma pinssejä takissa, mutta kun katsoin peiliin, näin kaiketi Mark Owenin. Vasta myöhemmin olen tullut siihen tulokseen, että peili valehtelee taitavasti ja vain toisen ihmisen kautta voi saada itsestään varteenotettavaa tietoa.”

“Minä olin opetellut olemaan yksin eikä mikään ollut minulle helpompaa. Se johtui vain siitä, ettei ollut mitään mihin olisin yksinäisyyttäni verrannut, samoin kuin minulla ei ole koskaan ollut heroiinivieroitusoireita, koska en ole kokeillut heroiinia. Ensimmäinen asia, jonka rakkaudesta opin, oli siis polttava yksinäisyys, jota nykyisin kärsin aina, kun et ole saatavilla. Se on sietämätöntä. Saatan leikkiä ajatuksella, että olisin villi ja vapaa, voisin itse päättää, minne menen ja missä aikataulussa, että minun ei tarvitsisi kysyä sinun mielipidettäsi tai menojasi, mutta sitten säikähdän ajatusleikkiäni kuin vanhemmastaan eksynyt lapsi kaupassa: entä jos et olisikaan olemassa.”

“Minä pelkään suurta tuulta, koska myrsky vaatii voimanponnistusta ja toimintaa, johon minä aina vaivoin antaudun, mutta yrmeä sade, sakea lumipyry tai pimeä sadekuuro vaativat vain alistumista – itsenä ja vaatteittensa hiljaista jättämistä kastumisen varaan. Palkaksi se lakaisee suurenpääkaupungin puhtaksi edessäsi, se antaa sinulle hiljaisen matkan pitkin leveitä suuria katuja, se verhoaa suuren kaupungin kuin itämaiseen lumoukseen, se tekee Villettestä Tadmorin.”

“Minä rakastan rajoja", Tove sanoo. "Elokuu, joka on raja kesän ja syksyn välillä. Se on hienoin tuntemani kuukausi. Ensimmäinen muumipeikoista kertova kirja alkaa elokuussa, samoin myös Muumipappa ja meri. Takurin hatun suuri juhla on sijoitettu lämpöiseen elokuun iltaan. Hämärä on rajana yön ja päivän välillä, ja ranta meren ja maan välillä. Rajat ovat kuin odotusta: kun molemmat ovat rakastuneita, mutta mitään ei ole lausuttu ääneen. Raja merkitsee matkalla oloa. Ja juuri matka on tärkeää.”

“Mio. Il pensiero le attraversò la mente veloce come un alito di vento, una scarica fredda dalla testa alle dita dei piedi. Mio. Era meno di un fatto ma più di un desiderio – venti giorni ormai dalla prima volta in cui si erano visti, un poco meno da quando l’aveva baciata. Una settimana da quando, quella sera, l’aveva quasi avuta sul pavimento della cucina. Quella sera le echeggiava ancora nelle ossa. Quella sera e Won-ho, il suo sapore, il suo tocco – informazioni non volute che l’avevano tenuta sveglia di notte, conoscenza molesta che si era portata sotto la pelle per i tre appuntamenti successivi, mai davvero da soli. Impossibile ritrovare quel furore quando sapeva benissimo che nella stanza accanto Yae-rim ascoltava musica con un auricolare solo, curiosa. Sua. Era il corollario di mio – impossibile possedere qualcuno, averlo, senza che lui ci possieda, uno scambio uguale, pelle per pelle, sangue per sangue. Sua: quella sillaba piccolissima, quasi una catena sulla pelle. Lo guardò lavorare, accorciare i rami con gesti esperti, accurati, le cesoie che brillavano al sole. Si ascoltò il sangue correre lento ma tiepido nelle vene, il cuore battere piano. Mio, sua. La sintattica sapeva essere pericolosa.”