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S Quotes

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“Sheftu realized with a sudden shock that she was a slave. She must be; otherwise, angry as she was, she would openly rebel against this man, who was evidently her master. Now the contradictions in her appearance were no longer baffling. Probably she had been well born, stolen as a child from her family, sold and resold until there was no one left who could possibly know who she once had been.”

“Shehit Shair Society, Sonnet (Martyr Poets Society) Poet* is martyred so poetry can live, Monk is martyred so holiness can live. Reformer is martyred so society can live, Dervish is martyred so the cosmos can live. Sufi is martyred so serenity can breathe, Scientist is martyred so reason finds light. Philosopher is martyred so curiosity lives, Saint is martyred to keep the promise alive. The just are martyred so injustice ends - they diss us woke, we couldn't care less. *Shairs and seers, we are sad figures - It's from our wounds, the world draws courage. Walk your wounds, surf your suffering. Amidst self-lovers, martyr is the king.”

“Sheikh Bilal had taken him aside the day before the wedding and spoken to him of marriage and his wife’s rights in the Law, stressing to him that there was nothing for a Muslim to feel shy about in marrying a woman who was not a virgin and that a Muslim woman’s previous marriage ought not to be a weak point that her new husband could exploit against her. He said sarcastically, “The secularists accuse us of puritanism and rigidity, even while they suffer from innumerable neuroses. You’ll find that if one of them marries a woman who was previously married, the thought of her first husband will haunt him and he may treat her badly, as though punishing her for her legitimate marriage. Islam has no such complexes.”

“Shelby believed that love was like a solar eclipse - breathtakingly beautiful, absorbing, and capable of rendering you blind. She had not necessarily gone out of her way to avoid a relationship, but she hadn't wanted on either. It was called falling in love for a reason - because, inevitably, you crashed at the bottom.”

“Shelby looked over to see Andrew silently mouthing syllables to himself, as if he were part of an ecstatic rite. He grinned as he bit fricatives and tongued plosives. He was tasting English origins, mulling over words ripped from bronze-smelling hoards. Words that had slept beneath centuries of dust and small rain, sharp and bright as scale mail. Poetry had never moved her quite so much as drama. She loved the shock of colloquy, the beat and treble of words doing what they had to on stage. Andrew preferred the echo of poems buried alive.”

“Sheldon entered the living room with Jenna's son, John "What'd we miss?" Sheldon asked with a smile. While Seth and David abandoned the group, all eyes went from Sheldon to Tracy to Sheldon to Tracy and back to Sheldon again. It was like watching a tennis match. And poor Tracy.... Lisette had never seen her look so stricken. "Well?" Sheldon prodded, when no answer came. Sean cleared his throat. "Tracy's been having sex dreams about you." Krysta swatted her brother on the back of the head.”

“Shelley," I say. "You should've let him win. You know, to be polite." Shelley's response is a shake of her head. Applesauce drips on her chin. "That's the way it's going to be, huh?" I say, hoping the scene doesn't gross Alex out. Maybe I'm testing him, to see if he can handle a glimpse of my home life. If so, he's passing. "Wait until Alex leaves. I'll show you who the checkers champion is." My sister smiles that sweet, crooked smile of hers. It's like a thousand words put into one expression. For a moment I forget Alex is still watching me. It's so weird having him inside my life and my house. He doesn't belong, yet he doesn't seem to mind being here.”

“Shelley, you think she'll take me back?" Alex asks her, his hair dangerously close to her fingers. She doesn't pull his hair . . . just pats his head gently. I feel the tears running down my cheeks at full speed. "Yeah!" Shelley yells with a goofy, gummy grin. She looks happier and more content than she's been in a long time. Both of my favorite people are with me right here; what more could I ask for?”

“Shelly shook her head and made sure she had plenty of space so that she wouldn’t hit anything. As many times before, she kept the hoop close to her waist and then twirled it with small, tight bursts of speed. As the hoop gathered in momentum it started to give off a hum that soon took on a light blue illumination far brighter than the streetlamps. It was so bright, that it lit up the entire backyard.”

“Shelves filled with jars of items meant for spells and ridiculous concoctions meant to heal bodies, inflict sickness, remove memories and countless other purposes covered most of the walls. The people brave enough to venture out into this part of the swamp and walk through this door were the ones most desperate for an answer. Most people who knew of the true power of voodoo stayed away. It wasn’t an evil humans needed to dabble in. It could possess you, steal your soul if you allowed it.”

“Shelves were jam-packed with orange and brown packaged treats: chocolate-covered Cheerios, chocolate-covered cornflakes, chocolate-covered raisins and pretzels and espresso beans. Chocolate malt balls, chocolate almonds, and giant 2.2-pound "Big Daddy" chocolate blocks. There was caramel corn, peanut brittle, mudslide cookie mixes, and tins of chocolate shavings so you could try replicating Jacques's über-rich hot chocolate at home- anything the choco-obsessed could dream was crammed in the small space. An L-shaped counter had all manner of fresh, handcrafted temptations: a spread of individual bonbons with cheeky names like Wicked Fun (chocolate ganache with ancho and chipotle chilies), Love Bug (key lime ganache enveloped in white chocolate), and Ménage à Trois (a mystery blend of three ingredients). Platters of double chocolate chip cookies and fudge brownies. And there were his buttery croissants and pain au chocolat, which duked it out in popularity with the French bakery across the street, Almondine.”

“Shen Qiao did not move for a long time, in these moments, the glint and noise around him faded, he held the slowly cooling body of Yu Ai, his head bowed, no one knew what he was thinking. Maybe it was a scene from all those years ago, he and his martial siblings on the mountain eating and sleeping in sync, training together. And yet past dreams sought, people departed, what has passed will never return. Just like some errors have no way of being remedied, some cracks will forever persist, and death, impossible to wake from.”

“Shen QingQiu lo fissò, e disse, “Vuoi diventare forte? Abbastanza forte da non avere pari, al punto che nessuno sotto questi cieli possa gareggiare con te?” Luo BingHe aveva una risposta a quella domanda già da molto tempo. Seduto solennemente, senza alcuna esitazione, rispose apertamente, “Si!” Quando lo vide rispondere con tanta decisione, Shen QingQiu nel suo cuore rilasciò un sospiro di sollievo. Pronunciò con urgenza ogni parola, “Ad esempio, se prima dovessi subire innumerevoli dolorose torture, soffrendo molte privazioni, fino a spingere il tuo stato fisico e psicologico vicino al collasso, vorresti comunque diventare una persona forte?”

“Shepherd Book: What are we up to, sweetheart? River: Fixing your Bible. Book: I, um... What? River: Bible's broken. Contradictions, false logistics - doesn't make sense. Shepherd Book: No, no. You-you-you can't... River: So we'll integrate non-progressional evolution theory with God's creation of Eden. Eleven inherent metaphoric parallels already there. Eleven. Important number. Prime number. One goes into the house of eleven eleven times, but always comes out one. Noah's ark is a problem. Shepherd Book: Really? River: We'll have to call it early quantum state phenomenon. Only way to fit 5000 species of mammal on the same boat. Shepherd Book: River, you don't fix the Bible. River: It's broken. It doesn't make sense. Book: It's not about making sense. It's about believing in something, and letting that belief be real enough to change your life. It's about faith. You don't fix faith, River. It fixes you.”

“Shepherd further argues while conjuring the spirit of Alice Walker, “We need to reexamine the things we have been taught, the things we’ve been told are biblical, the terminologies we’ve had defined for us as sexual beings. We need to ‘peel the old white man from our eyeballs before we can see clearly, see ourselves and G ~ d.”