S Quotes
Browse famous quotes beginning with S. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.
“She braced herself for the pain of the perfect horn breaking her heart.”
Source: Black Unicorn
“she braided my sister's hair with hands that smelled deep roots buried in the earth she told me the old stories how time never mattered when she died they gave me her clock”
“She breathed deeply of the scent of decaying fiction, disintegrating history, and forgotten verse, and she observed for the first time that a room full of books smelled like dessert: a sweet snack made of figs, vanilla, glue, and cleverness.”
Source: NOS4R2
“She breathed in the salty, seaweedy air as she stood, beguiled and calmed by the moon, part of her thinking what a brilliant painting it would make.”
Source: The Ghost of Seagull Cottage: Inspired by The Ghost and Mrs Muir
“She breathed in the scent of lemon blossoms, inspired by how their citrus sweetness mingled with fresh ocean air. Closing her eyes, she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, tasting a faint saltiness in the moisture laden breeze. She imagined how dark, rich chocolate filled with the brightness of a lemon filling and dusted with chunky sea salt might taste. Delicious, she decided.”
Source: The Chocolatier
“She breathed in the sweet air deeply. Gardenias, if she wasn't mistaken. She once had a gardenia bush back at home, and sometimes when it was blooming, she'd crack open her bedroom window to get whiffs of the smell all night, then wake up sweaty because gardenias always bloomed in May, except every so often, when a deep-summer flower would bloom well past its season.”
Source: The Dress Shop on King Street
“She breathed the spicy smells of frying onions and chilies from the taco stand on the corner and tried to figure out where she was.
In the distance the familiar shining office buildings of the Los Angeles skyline stood tall in the smoggy brown air. Behind her, faded stuffed animals pressed against the barred glass of a liquor store, their black eyes peering over advertisements for cigarettes, cerveza, and lottery tickets. Next door a fanfare of lace and satin filled the window, waves of quinceañera dresses jamming the display.
She didn't need to see more. She was on the wrong side of Wilshire Boulevard, east of Alvarado. Enemy territory.”
Source: The Choice
“She breathed. "This is lovely." It was for Adam, not Gansey, but she saw Gansey glance over his shoulder at her.”
Source: The Raven Boys
“She breathes Hope in and out.
When asked Why ?
She said because
hope gives me"that" in tomorrow
which "The Today" refused.”
“She briefly wished she did have some sort of magic so she could shoot a bolt of lightning through his head.”
“She brings him hope in the way that angels do, taking him to heaven in ways he never knew.”
“She bristled. “You are my consort. You don’t get to order me around.”
“You are my empress,” he shot back. “You answer to me.”
Source: The Hurricane Wars
“She broke in to a run, not caring if the thief-wheel heard her now, half sobbing. 'Fenris! Agnes! Dust-wife!'
'Marra?'
She broke in to the room and before she could even focus, Fenris had thrown his arms around her and had his face pressed against her hair. 'You're alive,' he said. 'I thought I'd lost you. You're alive.'
'You're alive, too!' she said. She wanted to stop and think about what I thought I'd lost you might mean, but it didn't quite seem like the time. And he was very warm and she was very cold and it was very pleasant to be held in such a fashion. 'You're alive.
'Yes, yes,' said the dust-wife testily. 'We're all alive. Please don't cry on me about it, though.'
Fenris finally released her, although not without reluctance. Bonedog immediately leapt up at her, washing her face with his tongue.”
Source: Nettle & Bone
“She broke my heart. My mother broke my heart. If I love Rachel she’ll have more power than both of them combined because this overwhelming pulse in my body...this overwhelming need to protect her and hold her close...
I nuzzle into her hair and close my eyes, inhaling the sweet scent of jasmine. I should let her go, let her go, just let her go. Walk away now. Hang on to what’s left of my sanity.
But as Rachel presses tighter to me, I know I’m too far gone to stand a chance alone. I’m in love, f*cking in love, and I pray to the God that abandoned me years ago that He doesn’t use this to destroy me. “I love you.””
Source: Crash into You
“She broke my heart, so now I have to write about her forever. It made everything different. It's something that can only happen once.”
Source: Valencia
“She broke my heart. I didn't like that much. But that was the price. In this world, you get what you pay for.”
Source: Cat's Cradle: A Novel
“She broke off the kiss again on a strangled gasp, staring at him, her chest heaving. “We’re not having sex here tonight.” Even as she said it, she rode his thigh harder. Troy’s eyes almost rolled back in his head at her barely leashed restraint, at the buck of hips that didn’t seem to buy the message her mouth was selling.
“Okay,” he agreed. If she chose to dry hump him all the way to orgasm beneath a billion stars he’d be in that.”
Source: Troy
“She broke the seal to find the flowing, masculine script that had come to mean the world to her.
Courage, my love. I need you to possess the same fire that led you from Scotland to Normandy that first day when we met. Whatever the day brings, know that I will always love you. You carry with you, my heart, my soul, my very being. Be strong for me, Kenna.
Ever your knight,
S
Postscriptum
S doesn't stand for Stryder.
She laughed at that, even though her eyes were filled with tears.
-Simon in a letter to Kenna”
Source: Where's My Hero?
“She broke up with me. Didn't really tell me why. Luckily when you're the guy, you can just tell people she's crazy. 'Hey, Tom, I heard you and Lucy broke up.' 'Yeah, man. Turns out, she's crazy.' That's what they always do on Entourage.”
“She brooded and bit her rich lips: my soul began its first sink into her, deep, heady, lost; like drowning in a witches' brew, Keltic, sorcerous, starlike.”
Source: Maggie Cassidy (Annotated)
“She brought a chicken from the coop to the chopping block. She kissed the hen’s beak in gratitude, knowing the hen would nourish many youngsters through her sacrifice.
After the blessing, Oota Dabun took an ax to the hen’s neck. The death was instant. Painless. Such is the mercy that comes from the slayer who knows one day he or she shall also be slain.”
Source: the dog
“She brought her elbow
backward and connected with Rand’s ribs. He swore and released her.
She whirled on him. “That’s for being so arrogant!”
Rand advanced on her, and the grin on his face wasn’t at all reassuring. She took one step
back, then turned to sprint into the bathroom, when a pair of hands caught her and slung her over
a hard muscled shoulder.
“Put me down right now!” She screamed as she pummeled his back. “You are the most
annoying, selfish, barbaric, horny man I know, Rand Miller!”
He set her back on her feet inside the bathroom, then cupped her chin in his palm. “You
are the most gorgeous, intelligent, feisty woman I know, Lucy Flemming.”
Lucy narrowed her eyes. What was he up to now? “Flattery won’t help you out of this
one.”
“It’s not flattery. It’s the truth,” he murmured as he leaned close to her ear. “And, baby?”
“Yes?” she answered, her voice nearly inaudible as his nearness began to override her
anger.
“I’d better be the only horny man you know.”
Source: Reckless Exposure
“She brought her wrist up to her nose again. Mmm, it was getting even more interesting. That vanilla note, then something sharper. But it wasn't jasmine, as she'd first thought; it was more lemony, but not obvious kitchen-cleaner lemon... a kind of warm, smoky citrus. Burned lemon peel, that was it.”
Source: The Scent of You
“She brought light into the darkest hour
She reminded humanity of love’s beautiful power
No matter what obstacles she faced
No matter how confidently evil paced”
Source: On The Edge of Town
“She brought me a crow's feather...," he whispered.”
“She brought the hot chocolate slowly to her lips, breathing on it to cool it down before taking a sip. She sighed dreamily as the thick chocolate slid down her throat, sweet and delicious.
"Yum," she said. "Try it again, Jack. You're going to like it."
Jack did as he was told, this time taking a much smaller sip. His mouth curled to a grin as he set the cup back down. "Well, that's pretty good," he admitted. "It's like someone took a pile of Halloween candy and melted it down, then added milk." He sniffed the cup. "Thought it'd be better if they used the expired kind. Then we might get some actual curdles." He took another sip, managing to get a blob of whipped cream stuck in his fake beard. Sally giggled, then grabbed the rag to blot his face.
"You're a mess," she teased. And he smiled back at her.
"I know," he said. "But you love me anyway, right?"
Sally felt her cheeks go red and she quickly grabbed her mug again, bringing it to her face to hide it. She knew Jack was just being silly. But the way he was smiling at her--- as if, in that very moment, she was the only other person in the world--- well, it felt far too lovely.”
Source: Sally's Lament
“She brought the tea into the living room on a lacquered tray. The pot and cups were Japanese with unglazed rims. She poured.
"Thanks," I said.
"Well?"
"Huh?"
"Your family," she reminded.
I sipped the tea. "This is really good. Really delicious."
She raised her eyebrows. "That's what I thought. You're a good listener, Davy, and you can change the subject on a dime. You've hardly talked about yourself at all."
"I talk... too much."
"You talk about books, you talk about plays, you talk about movies, you talk about places, you talk about food, you talk about current events. You don't talk about yourself."
I opened my mouth, then shut it again. I hadn't really thought about it. Sure, I didn't talk
about the jumping, but the rest? "Well, there's not much to say. Not like those stories of growing up with four brothers."
She smiled. "It's not going to work. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. But I'm not going to be distracted again, nor fooled into talking about those idiots again."
She poured more tea into my cup.
I frowned. "Do I really do that?"
"What? Not talk about yourself? Yes."
"No, try and distract you."
She stared at me. "You are fucking amazing. I've never seen someone so good at changing the subject."
"I don't do it on purpose."
She laughed.”
“She browned onions and garlic, and from the pot on the windowsill, chopped a few winter-sad leaves of tarragon. The smell was green and strong, and she thought of spring.
Spring in Dijon, when she and Al would hike into the mountains with the Club Alpin, the old women forever chiding her tentative steps, her newborn French: la petite violette, violette américaine. She would turn back to Al, annoyed, and he would laugh. Hardly his delicate flower. When they stopped for lunch, it was Mary Frances with the soufflé of calves' brains, whatever was made liver or marrow, ordering enough strong wine that everyone was laughing. The way home, the women let her be.
If she wanted calves' brains now, she wouldn't even know where to begin to look or how to pay. She and Al seemed to be living on vegetables and books, tobacco, quiet. She blanched a bunch of spinach and chopped it. She beat eggs with the tarragon, heated the skillet once again. There was a salad of avocados and oranges. There was a cold bottle of ale and bread. Enough, for tonight.”
Source: The Arrangement
“She browsed many a shop for just the right gown. The dressmaker had started it for another woman, who had decided she did not want it after all. A few alterations were all it needed.
And it was exquisite, made of pale green silk that brought out tiny gold flecks in her eyes. The neckline was à la grecque, deep and off the shoulders, giving way to a deep vee that made her waist look unbelievably tiny.”
Source: The Seduction Of An Unknown Lady
“She brushed her eyelashes against his chest.”
Source: Everything Is Illuminated
“She brushed her lips over his, needing to taste him, to reassure herself of his presence, even if the kiss was relatively chaste. He let out a soft groan, his big body melting against hers as he pulled her close.
"Get a fucking room," Gabriel muttered.”
Source: Taste of Darkness
“She brushed the goat away and slipped off the shirt, revealing a black ribbed tank top underneath. It put the flower garden climbing up her arm and spreading across her shoulder on full display.
She'd gotten the tattoos one at a time, one or two a year, ever since her meltdown. Each one stood for something specific in the language of flowers. A white chrysanthemum bloomed on the inside of her wrist for truth. A fern frond arched across her inner arm for sincerity. Delicate yellow sprigs of rue traced their way up her bicep for grace and clarity. A pink rose for happiness peeked from her shoulder blade. Together they symbolized a woman who was discovering her true path in life, uncovering her authentic self on the journey.”
Source: The Magic of Lemon Drop Pie
“She brushed the tears from their faces and sang them a melancholy lullaby. Her obvious devotion to her daughters pulled at my heart strings, making my chest ache with longing for my own mother.”
Source: The Beacon
“She brushed up against her own potential - and saw the ceiling for what it was: imagined restraint, never meant for her.”
“She built a castle
of her own
and wears a crown
of blood and hope.”
Source: Queen of December: Verses of Wings and Witches
“She built her character with the adversity she had faced, so she could live the best of her life for the rest of life.”
“She buried her face in his shoulder. And while the truth still scared her, being in his arms made her feel like the sea finding its shore, like a traveler returning after a long, hard, distant trip-- finally returning home.”
Source: The Fallen Sequence: An Omnibus Edition
“She burned quietly — not to be seen, but to stay warm.”
“She burned too bright for this world.”
“She burns alone in the empty space She’s like a star. From a distance, you see her glowing, a guide for lost travelers. But when you get close, you know she’s lonelier than anyone else.”
“She burns like the sun
Beautiful when she comes undone
No restraints
Pure passion flowing through her veins
Madness refusing to be tamed.”
Source: Moon Gypsy
“She burrowed beneath the covers in Romania in 1987, but soon she was whisked to Britain in the 1940s, transported through an enchanted wardrobe into the snowy and timeless world of Narnia. The wardrobe led her away from her boring engineering-student life and opened a wide vista, filled with adventure. Filled with possibilities. She could never go back to how things were before. Her world had shifted forever.”
Source: One Degree of Freedom
“She burst into her hotel room pulling her blouse over her head with one hand while she yanked her shoes off with the other.
No way was she going to face an alien invasion in heels and silk.”
Source: Vertigo
“She burst into tears. Not dainty, feminine tears, but a messy, red-faced explosion of sobs. The most terrible, beautiful, stunning feeling she'd ever known had come crashing over her in a huge wave, and she was drowning in it.
Gabriel stared at her with alarm, fumbling in his coat pocket for a handkerchief. "No, no... you weren't supposed to... my God, Pandora, don't do that. What is it?" He mopped at her face until she took the handkerchief from him and blew her nose, her shoulders shaking. Ashe continued to hover and ask worried questions, Phoebe left the piano and came to them.
Keeping Pandora folded deeply in his embrace, Gabriel cast a distracted glance at his sister. "I don't know what's wrong," he muttered.
Phoebe shook her head and reached up to ruffle his hair fondly. "Nothing's wrong, lunkhead. You came into her life like a lightning strike. Anyone would feel a bit scorched.”
Source: Devil in Spring
“She buys only the best couverture, from a fair trade supplier down near Marseille, and pays for it all in cash. A dozen blocks of each kind, to begin with, she says; but I already know from her eager response that a dozen blocks will not be enough. She used to make all her own stock, so she tells me, and though I'll admit I didn't quite believe it at first, the way she has thrown herself back into the business tells me that she was not exaggerating.
The process is deft and peculiarly therapeutic to watch. First comes the melting and tempering of the raw couverture: the process that enables it to leave its crystalline state and take on the glossy, malleable form necessary to make the chocolate truffles. She does it all on a granite slab, spreading out the melted chocolate like silk and gathering it back toward her using a spatula. Then it goes back into the warm copper, the process to be repeated until she declares it done.
She rarely uses the sugar thermometer. She has been making chocolates for so long, she tells me, that she can simply sense when the correct temperature has been reached. I believe her; certainly over the past three days I have been watching her, she has never produced a less than flawless batch. During that time I have learned to observe with a critical eye: to check for streaks in the finished product; for the unappealing pale bloom that denotes incorrectly tempered chocolate; for the high gloss and sharp snap that are the indicators of good-quality work.”
Source: The Girl with No Shadow
“She called Gansey.
"Blue?" he said.
Just his voice. Her heart tethered itself. Not completely, but enough to stop quivering so much. She closed her eyes”
“She called herself a nighshifter, and it took me a second to realize that she meant she works the night shift, and not that she shifts between being a human being and moonlit blackness. I was kind of hoping to watch her morph for me.”
Source: There are Two Typos of People in This World: Those Who Can Edit and Those Who Can't
“She called Kaneesha, whose machine said, "If you want money, go away. If you want to sell me something, it better be clothes. If you are a friend, let's party soon. If this is Tanya, where's my red tank top? Later. Beep."
She called Douglas, the one boy in school she felt comfortable with. They could talk about anything. His answering machine said, "I'm probably underneath my Camaro, but leave a message for when I'm vertical."
Hannah sighed.”
Source: Insatiable: The Compelling Story of Four Teens, Food and Its Power
“She called me Night,
because I loved the darkness
And I nicknamed her Luna,
because she reflected the sun”
“She called my name.
She called me Mark.
I love it when someone uses my name at unexpected times. I don’t know why. But, I just love it.”
Source: Odd and Imperfect