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W Quotes

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

All W Quotes

“Where did love begin?What human being looked at another and saw in their face the forests and the sea? Was there a day, exhausted and weary,dragging home food, arms cut and scarred, that you saw yellow flowers and, not knowing what you did, picked them because I love you? In the fossil record of our existence, there is no trace of love. You cannot find it held in the earth's crust, waiting to be discovered. The long bones of our ancestors show nothing of their hearts.”

“Where did my friend go? Was there a place they all gathered, the lost and self destructive? Was there a room they put them in? Necks burnt with rope or holes in their skulls. Beach-water bloated. I will know this at the end of my conversation with life. I will speak and laugh until my tongue falls out and then I will know this. I will know because he will tell me when I see him. How will I enter the theatre? With a hole in my head or exploded by sea. Wrists.”

“Where did the dress come from?" he asked, his breath a puff of white mist in the air. "Lady Raiford." "Of course," he said sardonically. "It looks like something she would wear." He glanced into the open neck of the cloak, where the shadow of her cleavage was visible. His thumb moved high on her breast, lingering at the edge where velvet ended and soft skin began. "Except you fill it out differently.”

“Where did their original owner go? Didn’t they show their love by allowing their person to write upon them? Weren’t they of help? Why did the person leave after carving scars into their body as a permanent reminder of who owned them? Why did my owner have to replace what they once had...? I am very sorry, Desk, for not thinking about your feelings sooner. I certainly hope my owner chooses to keep you; you deserve better than to be abandoned…”

“Where did this wolf-tribe appear from among our people? Does it really stem from our own roots? Our own blood? It is our own. And just so we don't go around flaunting too proudly the white mantle of the just, let everyone ask himself: "If my life had turned out differently, might I myself not have become just such an executioner?" It is a dreadful question if one really answers it honestly.”

“Where did you come from, lamentable quality? Before I had a life you were about to ruin my life. The mystery of this stays with me. “Don’t brood about things,” my elders said. I hadn’t any other experience of enemies from inside. They were all from outside—big boys Who cursed me and hit me; motorists; falling trees. All these you were as bad as, yet inside. When I spoke, you were there. I could avoid you by singing or acting. I acted in school plays but was no good at singing. Immediately after the play you were there again. You ruined the cast party. You were not a sign of confidence. You were not a sign of manliness. You were stronger than good luck and bad; you survived them both. You were slowly edged out of my throat by psychoanalysis You who had been brought in, it seems, like a hired thug To beat up both sides and distract them From the main issue: oedipal love. You were horrible! Tell them, now that you’re back in your thug country, That you don’t have to be so rough next time you’re called in But can be milder and have the same effect—unhappiness and pain.”

“Where did you find that one?" "I have no idea. I'm a magnet for crazies, I guess." "They must be able to sense a kindred spirit." "Your one to talk. Don't you have more hordes of the undead to lead in a glorious revolution?" "Zombies not undead. There's a fine distinction. And no. Right now I'm scouting new talent. The glorious revolution comes tomorrow.”

“Where did you get the idea you aren't allowed to petition the universe with prayer? You are part of this universe, Liz. You're a constituent--you have every entitlement to participate in the actions of the universe, and to let your feelings be known. So, put your opinion out there. Make your case. Believe me--it will at least be taken into consideration.”

“Where did you go?" "To the end of the driveway," my mother says. "I was nine months pregnant; that was the maximum distance I could waddle without feeling as if my uterus was falling out." I wince. "Do you have to be quite so graphic?" "What would you like me to call it, Zoe? A fetal living room?”

“Where did you learn to kiss like that?” I said, a little breathless. He grinned and pulled me close again. “I said I was a virgin, not a monk,” he said, kissing me again. “If I find I need guidance, I’ll ask.”