S Quotes
Browse famous quotes beginning with S. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.
“So . . . what is this fire river called?”
“The Phlegethon,” [Annabeth] said. “You should concentrate on going down.”
“The Phlegethon?” [Percy] shinnied along the ledge. They’d made it roughly a third of the way down the cliff—still high enough up to die if they fell. “Sounds like a marathon for hawking spitballs.”
“Please don’t make me laugh,” she said.
“Just trying to keep things light.”
Source: The House of Hades
“So what is true for life itself is no less true for the universe: knowing where you came from is no less important than knowing where you are going.”
Source: Death by Black Hole: And Other Cosmic Quandaries
“So what is wild? What is wilderness? What are dreams but an internal wilderness and what is desire but a wildness of the soul?”
“So, what is your goal for humanity as a whole?" Cyndi asked.
"To see a world with less fast food restaurants and more fruit trees.”
Source: The Devil's Arcadia
“So what it boils down to, in my humble opinion, is that we need to support the arts in schools, and at every other level in the education of children.”
“So what Jesus taught must be understood from the deepest level and that is one of the best sayings to show that he was talking in that way. In the book Revelations from Christ, I found out something that Yogananda said. That Jesus had said son of men and son of God, and people often misunderstand so sometimes the translations themselves are wrong for that reason. So when he said son of man he meant his human body and personality. When he said son of God, he meant the infinite Christ consciousness with which he'd obtained oneness.”
“So, what kind of things do you like?" Sidney asked.
"Well, I love to dance and sing like my momma. I like trying new things. I like helping people. I like it when boys think I'm intimidating, which they should. But I also know I'm still young, so I'm giving myself space to learn all the things I like. And not being hard on myself for not being what somebody else wants. That's all. Trusting my instincts. Never making myself small for other people. And no judgment."
"That sounds perfect."
"Not perfect. In progress.”
Source: Sky Full of Elephants
“So what kind of woman are you looking for? Let me guess. Professional. Sophisticated. Classy. Intelligent. Basically, Lucia but younger, or do you like a little Mrs. Robinson between the sheets?" She took another bite of her hot dog. Was there any better food?
"My relationship with Lucia is strictly professional, but yes, I'd be interested in someone similar."
"So, you want a mini-me," she teased. "I mean a mini-you. Not me. Obviously. Lucia is pretty much the opposite of me, which is another reason I knew that job wouldn't work out."
"You have ketchup on your cheek." He took a napkin and gently dabbed it at the corner of her mouth.
Desire flooded her veins followed by a wave of desolation. She could easily fall for a man like Jay. Smart, handsome, ambitious, successful, and yet she sensed a longing in him, a secret Jay waiting to be free.
"Is it gone?" Her voice came out in a whisper.
He leaned in and studied her with a serious intensity that took her breath away. He was so close she could see the gentle dip of his chin, the dark stubble of his five-o'clock shadow even though it couldn't be much past four o'clock. His lips were firm and soft, his mouth the perfect size for kissing. She drew in his scent: pine and mountains and the rich, earthy scent of the soil she'd turned in the garden when her family was whole and she never had to wonder whose house she was in when she woke up in the morning.”
Source: The Singles Table
“So what makes me happy? I was really happy to build this house. That's it; building things. The trouble with software is that it's very hard to show your aunt in Florida what you've done.”
“So what motivates you more? The fear of failure or the fantastic feeling of achieving your dreams?”
Source: The "No Excuses" Mindset: A Life of Purpose, Passion, and Clarity
“So what name would you rather I call you? she asked as she headed out of the parking lot. Ias or Alexion. He gave her a devilish grin that set fire to her hormones. I would rather you call me lover. He wagged his eyebrows playfully at her. Danger rolled her eyes. Like all men with a onetrack mind, he was incorrigible. Don't blame me, Alexion said in an almost offended tone. I can't help it. You should see the way you fight. It really turned me on. Could you tell me how to turn you off? -Danger and Alexion”
“So what needs to be done is to spread the idea that anxiety is inappropriate. It's sort of like we who are psychedelic have to function as sitters for society, because society is going to thrash, and resist, and think it's dying, and be deluded, and regurgitate unconscious material, and so forth and so on. And the role then, I think, for psychedelic people is to try and spread calm.”
“So what now?" he said.
"What do you mean?"
"What do we do now? We can't just be roommates."
"You said you didn't like me."
"I don't like you. I don't like how your hair smells, and how I can't stop thinking about waking up and seeing your face. I hate how my bed felt empty when you left. I don't like how good you were with my family, especially Harper, and how I wanted to see you with then again, but not just as a guest. As a member. You're right. I don't like you at all."
"When did you change your mind?"
"My mind never changed. I've wanted you since the moment you opened the door and had that stunned look on your face. It just took me a while to admit it. Why deny it now? It is what it is and it's not going to change."
"Oh."
"This doesn't mean I'm going to be nice. I'm still going to be an ass. I'll just be an ass who apologizes and brings you flowers to say he's been a dick."
"Chocolate," I said.
"What?"
"I'd rather have chocolate when you apologize."
"Chocolate it is." He smiled. "So does that mean what I think it means?"
"No. It just means that you get to bring me chocolate when you've been an ass. I'm going to weigh three hundred pounds." I focused my attention back on the peppers. I couldn't think about Hunter's declaration of... whatever it was.
Footsteps didn't make me look up.
"Taylor, look at me. Please." Damn. If only he didn't say please. "I can't promise to not make you mad. I can't promise that I won't hurt you. All I can promise is that I want you in my life, and I'll do anything to keep you there.”
Source: My Favorite Mistake
“So what oppresses and scares us? It is our own thoughts, obviously, What overwhelms people when they are about to leaves friends, family, old haunts and their accustomed way of life? Thoughts.”
Source: Discourses and Selected Writings
“So What or Kind of Blue were done in that era, the right hour, the right day. It's over; it's on the record.”
“So what really gets me is these chickenhawks, who sent our kids to die, without ever serving in a war themselves. They don't know what it's all about”
Source: Not One More Mother's Child
“So what really happened to you? (Astrid) Nothing. (Zarek) Well, I hope I never come across Nothing then if it’s capable of putting a hole in my back. (Astrid)”
“So what really matters in the end is this. Have you lived a life where your satisfaction in having accomplished your dreams, love and passion outweighs your regrets on what have you have missed?”
“So what really works? Treatments in jail do some good, but it's mostly too late: finding a family and a job or just growing older make most prisoners eventually give up crime.”
“So what resurrection? It was only cosmetic, a powder of modernity applied randomly, and boastfully, to the corrupt face of the city. It happened like that every time. The scam of rebirth raised hopes and then shattered them, became crust upon ancient crusts.”
Source: The Story of the Lost Child
“So what rhyming poems do is they take all these nearby sound curves and remind you that they first existed that way in your brain. Before they meant something specific, they had a shape and a way of being said. And now, yes, gloom and broom are floating fifty miles away from each other in you mind because they refer to different notions, but they're cheek-by-jowl as far as your tongue is concerned. And that's what a poem does. Poems match sounds up the way you matched them when you were a tiny kid, using that detachable front phoneme.”
Source: The Anthologist: A Novel
“So what's a nurse? [...]
Basically someone who does all the work of helping people without any of the credit.”
Source: The Midwizard of Cosconia
“So what's for dinner?" she asks.
"Excuse me?"
"You said you were cooking for your family. Can I ask what a professional chef feeds her family, or is that some deep, dark secret"
"Curried prawn chowder, black sea bass en papillote with baby artichokes and red pepper coulis, frisee salad with shaved Asiago," I tell her, even though the only thing currently in our refrigerator is the other half of my Primanti's sandwich.
"I love sea bass. What time is dinner?"
So, I'm being wooed by Enid Maxwell.”
Source: Aftertaste: A Novel in Five Courses
“So--what's it like, being a vampire?"
"Aline!" Isabelle looked appalled. "You can't just go around asking people what's it like to be a vampire!"
"I don't see why," Aline said. "He hasn't been a vampire that long, has he? So he must still remember what it was like being a person." She turned back to Simon. "Does blood taste like blood to you? Or does it taste like something else now, like orange juice or something? Because I would think the taste of blood would-"
"It tastes like chicken," Simon said, just to shut her up.
"Really?" Aline looked astonished.
"He's making fun of you, Aline," said Sebastain”
Source: City of Glass
“So what's on the menu?"
"We soak prunes in whisky and tea, dip them in honey, and stuff them with walnuts. These are mixed with sausage for the stuffing. I usually soak the prunes for several days, but we'll make do."
"My God. That sounds fabulous."
Elliott nodded, but said nothing. He was staring at her intently.
"And..."
"And..."
What was he waiting for? He started to fiddle with the pencil.
Finally she realized he was waiting for her input! He had no idea how to banter back-and-forth or to brainstorm creatively.
She broke the awkward silence. "Elliott, are you waiting for my suggestions for dinner?"
"Aye. I'm waiting."
"I think... we should go with the honey."
"I use heather honey in North Berwick. But I'm sure the honey here will be fine."
"My favorite is from the Akins Apiary. They have delicious apple honey. It's rare, but I'll see if they have some in the pantry."
"Excellent. What... what else do you like about the honey?"
Sophia tried not to laugh out loud at Elliott's stilted and awkward attempt at conversation. The give-and-take was clearly not a natural process for him.
"Let's use the honey in all our dishes. How about roasted vegetables in a balsamic-honey dressing? With thyme? I think rutabaga and turnips would be a nice side for the turkey."
He scratched something on his tablet. "Keep going."
"And how about a bitter green salad? Maybe arugula and dandelion greens with a honey vinaigrette That will cut the richness of the bird."
Elliott nodded. "I like both of those ideas. This meal will showcase the best of both of us... a traditional Scottish roast bird and various preparations for the vegetables and greens.”
Source: A Taste of Heaven
“So what’s our new name if it’s not the Dancing Fool?” Sentorr asks, annoyance stamped through his demeanor.
“How about the Lovesick Fool?” Kivian smirks in my direction.
I make a rude gesture back at him.”
Source: In The Corsair's Bed
“So what's the deal with you and my sister?"
He laughs shortly and rubs the back of his neck like something is there, tickling, tapping.
"Tamra." Clutching the dashboard, I turn and glare at her. "There is no deal."
She snorts. "Well, we wouldn't be sitting here if that was the case now, would we?"
I open my mouth to demand she end the interrogation when Will's voice stops me.
"I like your sister. A lot."
I look at him dumbly.
He looks at me, lowers his voice to say, "I like you."
I know that, I guess, but heat still crawls over my face. I swing forward in my seat, cross my arms over my chest and stare straight ahead. Can't stop shivering. Can't speak. My throat hurts too much.
"Jacinda," he says.
"I think you've shocked her," Tamra offers, then sighs.”
Source: Firelight
“So what's the plan?” Ben asked.
“Go inside. Look around. Improvise.”
“Brilliant." Hi stroked his chin. “Quick question: Is having no plan the same as having a terrible plan, or are those different categories?”
Source: Exposure
“So what’s the plan?” Carter asked. “Maybe a flanking manoeuvre?”
“Or,” Annabeth said, “we could try a diversionary –“
“Charge!” Sadie barrelled into the clearing, her staff in one hand and her Greek scroll in the other.
I glanced at Annabeth. “Your new friend is awesome.”
Source: Demigods & Magicians: Percy and Annabeth Meet the Kanes / The Heroes of Olympus the Demigod Diaries
“So what's the point, then, if we can't be happy? Why are we doing any of this?"
"Oh, there's definitely happiness," Jack said, turning his back on the ocean and looking at her. "But it's just about moments, not ever-afters." He grinned. "Like when you're right in the middle of the ocean with your friends, with no one trying to kill you in any kind of horrifying way. You have to appreciate these moments when they happen, 'cause obviously we don't get many of them.”
Source: The Half Upon a Time Trilogy (Boxed Set): Half Upon a Time; Twice Upon a Time; Once Upon the End
“So what’s the rule of thumb? Some say you should always match your socks to your shoes. Others say you should always match your socks to your pants. The correct answer is pants. And so in the case of jeans and brown shoes, I would go with navy socks.
One note on sock-and-pant etiquette: if you’re wearing socks with dress pants, you should reveal no leg skin. It’s like a bare midriff: you don’t want to see it. It’s different if you’re wearing shoes without socks, which is fine in casual settings.”
Source: Tim Gunn's Fashion Bible
“So, what’s the status?” said Ira as he pulled himself down to his couch.
“Will is turning into a starship,” Hugo replied, clearly only half in jest. “We’re about to watch history in the making.”
Source: Roboteer
“So what's their plan, hitting Sebastian over the head with Jace until he passes out?”
Source: City of Heavenly Fire
“So, what's up with you and Damian?" Helena asks.
"What do you mean?" I can feel the hear of a blush coloring on my cheeks. I can't ever seem to not show how I feel. It's becoming pretty annoying.”
Source: A Map of the Known World
“So what's your doll's name?" Boo asked me.
"Barbie," I said. "All their names are Barbie."
"I see," she said. "Well, I'd think that would get boring, everyone having the same
name."
I thought about this, then said, "Okay, then her name is Sabrina."
"Well, that's a very nice name," Boo said. I remember she was baking bread,
kneading the dough
between her thick fingers. "What does she do?"
"Do?" I said.
"Yes." She flipped the dough over and started in on it from the other side. "What
does she do?"
"She goes out with Ken," I said.
"And what else?"
"She goes to parties," I said slowly. "And shopping."
"Oh," Boo said, nodding.
"She can't work?"
"She doesn't have to work," I said.
"Why not?"
"Because she's Barbie."
"I hate to tell you, Caitlin, but somebody has to make payments on that town house
and the Corvette,"
Boo said cheerfully. "Unless Barbie has a lot of family money."
I considered this while I put on Ken's pants.
Boo started pushing the dough into a pan, smoothing it with her hand over the top.
"You know what I
think, Caitlin?" Her voice was soft and nice, the way she always spoke to me.
"What?"
"I think your Barbie can go shopping, and go out with Ken, and also have a
productive and satisfying
career of her own." She opened the oven and slid in the bread pan, adjusting its
position on the rack.
"But what can she do?" My mother didn't work and spent her time cleaning the
house and going to PTA.
I couldn't imagine Barbie, whose most casual outfit had sequins and go-go boots,
doing s.uch things.
Boo came over and plopped right down beside me. I always remember
her being on my level; she'd sit
on the edge of the sandbox, or lie across her bed with me and Cass as we listened to
the radio.
"Well," she said thoughtfully, picking up Ken and examining his perfect physique.
"What do you want to
do when you grow up?"
I remember this moment so well; I can still see Boo sitting there on the floor, cross-
legged, holding my
Ken and watching my face as she tried to make me see that between my mother's
PTA and Boo's
strange ways there was a middle ground that began here with my Barbie, Sab-rina,
and led right to me.
"Well," I said abruptly, "I want to be in advertising." I have no idea where this came
from.
"Advertising," Boo repeated, nodding. "Okay. Advertising it is. So Sabrina has to go
to work every day,
coming up with ideas for commercials
and things like that."
"She works in an office," I went on. "Sometimes she has to work late."
"Sure she does," Boo said. "It's hard to get ahead. Even if you're Barbie."
"Because she wants to get promoted," I added. "So she can pay off the town house.
And the Corvette."
"Very responsible of her," Boo said.
"Can she be divorced?" I asked. "And famous for her commercials
and ideas?"
"She can be anything," Boo told me, and this is what I remember most, her freckled
face so solemn, as if
she knew she was the first to tell me. "And so can you.”
Source: Dreamland
“So what's your favorite food trend?" he asked.
"Oh, don't tell me you're one of those! I hate food trends," replied Gus, albeit pleasantly. "Sunchokes, pomegranate, Meyer lemons, figs, foams- every year something new sweeps the foodies and it's eaten passionately and then practically abandoned. It's irresponsible to the palate."
"I love Meyer lemons," insisted Oliver.
"So do I," agreed Gus. "But I refuse to be a slave to food fashion."
"What's your motto, then?"
"Fresh. It's all about fresh," said Gus, her eyes beginning to sparkle. She bought an artichoke up to eye level. "What could we do with this?"
"Hearts with fresh pasta, cream sauce, and a dash of nutmeg," he said. "Or herbed in a tart with shavings of fontina.”
Source: Comfort Food
“So, what's your poison, Jay?" Zara joined the buffet line a few minutes later. "Let me guess. Something dark and spicy that packs a lot of heat. Maybe a rista? Or a naga curry?" She studied him, shaking her head. "Hmmm. Not so exotic. I think you're more of a vindaloo. Rich and complicated with hidden depths. Every bite satiates your taste buds and leaves you craving more."
Unsettled by her seemingly casual yet unnervingly accurate assessment, he turned his attention to filling his plate from the lavish spread.”
Source: The Singles Table
“So what she's a (this or that)....If you don't plan to help better other women in this world then keep moving, honey!”
Source: Nothing Sexier Than Freedom
“So, what should I do right now?
Stop crying, open your heart, and pray.”
Source: Taman Pasir
“So what should we say when children complete a task—say, math problems—quickly and perfectly? Should we deny them the praise they have earned? Yes. When this happens, I say, “Whoops. I guess that was too easy. I apologize for wasting your time. Let’s do something you can really learn from!”
Source: Mindset: The New Psychology of Success
“So what, simply put, is the Third Covenant? It is the recalibration, the reawakening of that which is truly human, truly holy. It is truly catholic, kata-holos (Greek “according to the whole”), truly universal, sacred, and unitive. It is made manifest by a unitive noosphere, one that embraces the Monosacred present in all Abrahamic, Indigenous, Chinese, Indian, and any and all other cultures. It embraces the whole biosphere, the whole planet, solar system, galaxy, and universe. It both precedes and succeeds space and time.”
Source: The Third Covenant: The Transmission of Consciousness in the Work of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, Thomas Berry, and Albert J. LaChance
“So what starts is ad hoc and you never know where it's going to lead, so it's important to keep an open mind about those things.”
“So what strikes me most about the Heartland Conference is that I am with people that are in love with weather, climate, and their country, and many of them have loved these longer and stronger than I have.”
“So what," the Chelgrian asked, "is the point of me or anybody else writing a symphony, or anything else?"
The avatar raised its brows in surprise. "Well, for one thing, you do it, it's you who gets the feeling of achievement."
"Ignoring the subjective. What would be the point for those listening to it?"
"They'd know it was one of their own species, not a Mind, who created it."
"Ignoring that, too; suppose they weren't told it was by an AI, or didn't care."
"If they hadn't been told then the comparison isn't complete; information is being concealed. If they don't care, then they're unlike any group of humans I've ever encountered."
"But if you can—"
"Ziller, are concerned that Minds—AIs, if you like—can create, or even just appear to create, original works of art?"
"Frankly, when they're the sort of original works of art that I create, yes."
"Ziller, it doesn't matter. You have to think like a mountain climber."
"Oh, do I?"
"Yes. Some people take days, sweat buckets, endure pain and cold and risk injury and—in some cases—permanent death to achieve the summit of a mountain only to discover there a party of their peers freshly arrived by aircraft and enjoying a light picnic."
"If I was one of those climbers I'd be pretty damned annoyed."
"Well, it is considered rather impolite to land an aircraft on a summit which people are at that moment struggling up to the hard way, but it can and does happen. Good manners indicate that the picnic ought to be shared and that those who arrived by aircraft express awe and respect for the accomplishment of the climbers.
"The point, of course, is that the people who spent days and sweated buckets could also have taken an aircraft to the summit if all they'd wanted was to absorb the view. It is the struggle that they crave. The sense of achievement is produced by the route to and from the peak, not by the peak itself. It is just the fold between the pages." The avatar hesitated. It put its head a little to one side and narrowed its eyes. "How far do I have to take this analogy, Cr. Ziller?”
Source: Look To Windward
“So, what the fuck? What's wrong with the way I talk?"
"What's wrong with the way I talk?" I rolled my eyes. "What deleted scene in which Scorsese are you from.”
Source: Topics of Conversation
“So what, then? Pete? Clyde?"
Cabel rolls over, pretending to sleep.
"It's Fred, isn't it?"
"Janie. Stop."
"You named your thing Janie?" She giggles.
Cabel groans deeply. "Go to sleep.”
Source: Gone
“So what this is is us, our personalities refined down on to a stage performance. In other words, the way we play is the end product of the way we live - we live in the cities, you see.”
“So what to do? . . . She shook her head impatiently. Choice is a largely delusional concept, her tutor used to say. Whether in politics, morals or shopping, we have far less than we imagine. In the end what we have to do often doesn't even figure on our list of pseudo-options.”
“So what used to fit in a building now fits in your pocket, what fits in your pocket now will fit inside a blood cell in 25 years.”
“So what was going on in Malta that led to all this? Why did the first megalithic temple-builders in the world choose to make things so difficult for themselves? Why didn't they start with small megaliths (if that is not too serious a contradiction in terms)? Why didn't they start simple? Why did they plunge straight into the very complicated stuff, like Gigantija and the Hypogeum? And, having plunged, how did they manage to produce such magnificent results? Was it beginner's luck? Or were their achievements as humanity's pioneering architects the product of some sort of heritage?
Beginner's luck is possible, but having studied the earliest temples, and their level of perfection, archaeologists agree that heritage is the right answer. The only problem is what heritage? And where is it to be looked for? Since it is the received wisdom that no human beings lived on Malta before 5200 BC, and since this is a 'fact' that is at present unquestioned anywhere within conventional scholarship, archaeologists from roughly the mid-twentieth century onwards have simply seen no reason to explore the possibility that the heritage of the Maltese temples might be older than 5200 BC. To do so would be the research equivalent of an oxymoron -- like breeding dodos, trying to conduct an interview with William Shakespeare or seeking evidence that the earth is flat -- and would invite the ridicule of one's peers.”
Source: Underworld: The Mysterious Origins of Civilization