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Apartment Quotes

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Apartment Quotes

“Mine was the kind of apartment filled with scented candles, where every piece of furniture has been carefully selected to be camera-ready at all times, in case a representative of the taste police from an interiors magazine were to show up unannounced; I always wanted to get top marks.”

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Book:The Paris Trilogy: a Life in Three Stories
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“I'm like my cat. I run around in circles in my apartment, because the big bad outside is just too big. And scary. And outside. How do stray cats deal with all the stress of having no protection from all the air that’s going on around there, without anyone to guide and control it into timidity?”

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Book:Nothing is here...
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“I unlocked the door of my apartment, where the only movement, while I was gone, had been the light moving across the walls from the morning to evening and a scuttling roach or two, and the air inside smelled of loneliness. The ache got eased a little the next day, after I'd picked up my dog from my sister, gotten sucked back into the slipstream of the city. But only a little. And soon it spread, until the word home could make me cry. I wanted one.”

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Author:Kristin Kimball
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“The TSA liked having fresh agents on the job. Fresh agents with a clear mind and steady hand. Time travel wasn’t for the faint of heart. The pay was good though, but as Scrooby had decided long ago, that even if he didn’t get paid for it, the thrill alone was payment enough. Then again, the TSA realized they couldn’t afford to have disgruntled employees with too much time on their hands and the power of the gods at their fingertips, so the pay was very, very good. Debriefing was routine. And how he hated routine! His supervisor was a senior agent called Guy Krummeck, a rather drab character who liked his shiny silver suits almost as much as he liked to go over every little detail at least three times. Minimum. This time everything went right, so it went quick. Twenty minutes later, tired, he clocked out and went home to his small apartment. Tomorrow, after all, was another day again.”

HeartEnoughGuyTimePayPowerTomorrowTiredGoodAloneRoutineJobSteadyRightApartmentMinimumThrillEverythingTheToItFingertipsAndAllOfThatOutHaveButWhoTimesVeryMuchAgainHisWasAsLaterEvenAtTooQuickFaintLeastLikedSupervisorThoughAgoTwentyClockedKrummeck
Book:The Time Saving Agency
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“So rich a client having suffered such a messy death was an unsettling embarrassment to Captain Harald Biscay. It was bad for business. He had the murder hushed up immediately, his security staff investigating the matter covertly but thoroughly. Five and a half thousand souls onboard. Five and a half thousand suspects. Three days. So far, nothing. Now it would be taken further by the planetary authorities on the colony world below. A forensic team (cunningly disguised as a cleaning crew) was now rummaging through Smiffs apartment, examining every single particle. He had a feeling -- a strong feeling, about what they were going to find. Somehow, Biscay was of the opinion that this was going to be another contender for the Unsolved Murders show.”

MatterBusinessHalfSecurityThousandMurderFeelingApartmentNothingEmbarrassmentMessyNowColonyExaminingTheDaysFindToItABeWhatShowFarTheySoHisUnsettlingWasByImmediatelyDisguisedUnsolvedParticleSomehowThoroughlyOnboardA HalfBiscayCovertlyCunninglyHad AMurders In The Rue MorgueRummagingThousand SuspectsWorld Below
Book:Dead Man's Hammer
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“The passenger liner Ossifar Distana was one of the most luxurious of its kind in space anywhere. It ferried the cream of society across the void in opulence and style. Only the wealthiest could afford an apartment on this ship for a trip of any duration, even a short one around the proverbial block. Even the crew was obliged to pay rent.”

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Book:Dead Man's Hammer
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“This was his first trip on the Ossifar Distana, his first real splash in life. Look what it got him. Mister Smiff liked anonymity. He kept a low profile, often traveling under assumed names, claiming to be anything from a banker to a (very) successful life insurance salesman. He’d never broken the law, at least not irreparably. He was quite generous, well liked, sponsoring many charities anonymously – which is why it was so surprising to find him floating face down in the private spa in his apartment, murdered. He had been murdered, unless it was a freak shaving accident. Those old razors weren’t called cut-throats for nothing. Yikes.”

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Book:Dead Man's Hammer
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“She loved old things. The brown-brick place was a survivor of the 1907 earthquake and fire, and proudly bore a plaque from the historical society. The building had a haunted history- it was the site of a crime of passion- but Tess didn't mind. She'd never been superstitious. The apartment was filled with items she'd collected through the years, simply because she liked them or was intrigued by them. There was a balance between heirloom and kitsch. The common thread seemed to be that each object had a story, like a pottery jug with a bas-relief love story told in pictures, in which she'd found a note reading, "Long may we run. -Gilbert." Or the antique clock on the living room wall, each of its carved figures modeled after one of the clockmaker's twelve children. She favored the unusual, so long as it appeared to have been treasured by someone, once upon a time. Her mail spilled from an antique box containing a pigeon-racing counter with a brass plate engraved from a father to a son. She hung her huge handbag on a wrought iron finial from a town library that had burned and been rebuilt in a matter of weeks by an entire community. Other people's treasures captivated her. They always had, steeped in hidden history, bearing the nicks and gouges and fingerprints of previous owners. She'd probably developed the affinity from spending so much of her childhood in her grandmother's antique shop.”

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Book:The Apple Orchard
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“So I am not a broken heart. I am not the weight I lost or miles or ran and I am not the way I slept on my doorstep under the bare sky in smell of tears and whiskey because my apartment was empty and if I were to be this empty I wanted something solid to sleep on. Like concrete. I am not this year and I am not your fault. I am muscles building cells, a little every day, because they broke that day, but bones are stronger once they heal and I am smiling to the bus driver and replacing my groceries once a week and I am not sitting for hours in the shower anymore. I am the way a life unfolds and bloom and seasons come and go and I am the way the spring always finds a way to turn even the coldest winter into a field of green and flowers and new life. I am not your fault.”

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Book:You're Doing Just Fine
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“Candies Available for Civilian Consumption: Masha and Bear / Bear in the North / Little Bear / Clumsy Bear / Stratosphere / Strike! / Brighter! / Little Squirrel / Thumbelina / Moscow in Evening / Kiev in Evening / Fantastic Bird / Little Lemon / Little Lenin / Snowflake / Jelly / Fuzzy / Iris / Fudgy Cow / Little Red Hat / Alyonka / Little Miracle / Solidarity / Leningrad / Bird’s Milk / Red Poppy / Mask / Meteorite / Vizit / Red Moscow / Dream / Caramel Crab Necks / Goose Feet / Duck Beaks / Kiss Kiss / Golden Key / Snow / Crazy Bee…And So Many More!”

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Book:Good Citizens Need Not Fear: Stories
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“He opened his laptop and showed me a picture of a “cozy” Greenwich Village apartment he’d found online. My dad, a born New Yorker, had told me stories of the Village, a lively network of cobblestone streets and jazz dives, coffee houses and folk clubs with no cover fee—and I felt a surge of light-headed ambition. “Though it’s kind of strange,” Justin continued, “there is no bathroom inside. Our toilet would be down a public hallway.”

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Book:Your Blue Is Not My Blue: A Missing Person Memoir
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“At any rate, there were no women in my apartment." "Porn?" I question with a snort. "Figures." "Non, it was an actress I asked to do me a favor. A phone call. It was my way to get you back for spilling wine on my duvet and all your stomping around." "Oh my god," I say, sitting back in my chair, shaking my head with disbelief. After I got over the initial shock of his deception, my lips twist into an awkward smile. "So, the other night---" "I just placed my iPhone by the vent---" "She's a really good actress," I say with a snort. "Really good.”

TruthFakeApartmentTenantsPhone Sex
Book:The Spice Master at Bistro Exotique
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“後來他亦住進了一迷宮大樓，朋友介紹的住處，公寓五、六樓改建成十三個雅房，曲折的走道連接這些房間，公用衛浴，走道變置物間，月租三千到四千，每個房子配置都一樣，只是方位與大小略有差別。不到三坪的房間，窗戶裝有抽風機一台，有對外窗的四千，沒對外窗三千，單人木板床，牆上有一排掛衣桿，頭頂有日光燈，其他自備。包水電，但沒冷氣，沒網路。 他猜想，監獄也大致是這格局吧，只差沒有放風用的運動場。”

ApartmentApartment LifeSubdivided Flat
Book:摩天大樓
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“Builder Floors in Sohna Road by Central Park – Luxury Living Spaces Builder floors in Sohna Road by Central Park are redefining modern, low-rise living for families seeking comfort, privacy, and an upgraded lifestyle. Designed with premium architecture and thoughtful planning, these residences offer an ideal blend of luxury, greenery, and seamless connectivity. Whether you are searching for a stylish 2BHK or 3BHK home, Central Park’s builder floors provide an elevated residential experience in one of Gurgaon’s fastest-growing locations.”

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Author:rarealinfra
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“On the whole, we're a murderous race. According to Genesis, it took as few as four people to make the planet too crowded to stand, and the first murder was a fratricide. Genesis says that in a fit of jealous rage, the very first child born to mortal parents, Cain, snapped and popped the first metaphorical cap in another human being. The attack was a bloody, brutal, violent, reprehensible killing. Cain's brother Abel probably never saw it coming. As I opened the door to my apartment, I was filled with a sense of empathic sympathy and intuitive understanding. For freaking Cain.”

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Book:Dead Beat: A Novel of The Dresden Files
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