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Billiards Quotes

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Billiards Quotes

“After Evie had finished her plate, Sebastian tugged her to the billiards table and handed her a cue stick with a leather tip. Ignoring her attempts to refuse him, he proceeded to instruct her in the basics of the game. “Don’t try to claim this is too scandalous for you,” he told her with mock severity. “After running off with me to Gretna Green, nothing is beyond you. Certainly not one little billiards game. Bend over the table.” She complied awkwardly, flushing as she felt him lean over her, his body forming an exciting masculine cage as his hands arranged hers on the cue stick. “Now,” she heard him say, “curl your index finger around the tip of the shaft. That’s right. Don’t grip so tightly, sweet…let your hand relax. Perfect.” His head was close to hers, the light scent of sandalwood cologne rising from his warm skin. “Try to imagine a path between the cue ball—that’s the white one—and the colored ball. You’ll want to strike right about there”—he pointed to a place just above center on the cue ball—“to send the object ball into the side pocket. It’s a straight-on shot, you see? Lower your head a bit. Draw the cue stick back and try to strike in a smooth motion.” Attempting the shot, Evie felt the tip of the cue stick fail to make proper contact with the white ball, sending it spinning clumsily off to the side of the table. “A miscue,” Sebastian remarked, deftly catching the cue ball in his hand and repositioning it. “Whenever that happens, reach for more chalk, and apply it to the tip of the cue stick while looking thoughtful. Always imply that your equipment is to blame, rather than your skills.” Evie felt a smile rising to her lips, and she leaned over the table once more. Perhaps it was wrong, with her father having passed away so recently, but for the first time in a long while, she was having fun. Sebastian covered her from behind again, sliding his hands over hers. “Let me show you the proper motion of the cue stick—keep it level—like this.” Together they concentrated on the steady, even slide of the cue stick through the little circle Evie had made of her fingers. The sexual entendre of the motion could hardly escape her, and she felt a flush rise up from the neck of her gown. “Shame on you,” she heard him murmur. “No proper young woman would have such thoughts.” A helpless giggle escaped Evie’s lips, and Sebastian moved to the side, watching her with a lazy smile. “Try again.”

“Ich selbst spiele nie Billard, [...],aber ich weiß, dass man den Ball hoch oder tief, rechts oder links nehmen kann; man kann den zweiten Ball voll treffen oder streifen; man kann stark oder schwach stoßen; die Fälsche stärker oder schwächer wählen; und sicher gibt es noch viele solcher Möglichkeiten. Ich kann mir nun jedes dieser Elemente beliebig abgestuft denken, so gibt es also nahezu unendlich viele Kombinationsmöglichkeiten. Wollte ich sie theoretisch ermitteln, so müßte ich außer den Gesetzen der Mathematik und der Mechanik starrer Körper auch die der Elastizitätslehre berücksichtigen; ich müßte die Koeffizienten des Materials kennen; den Temperatureinfluß; ich müßte die feinsten Maßmethoden für die Koordination und Abstufung meiner motorischen Impulse besitzen; meine Distanzschätzung müßte genau wie ein Nonius sein; mein kombinatorisches Vermögen schneller und sicherer als ein Rechenschieber; zu schweigen von der Fehlerrechnung, die Streungsbreite und dem Umstand, daß das zu erreichende Ziel der richtigen Koinzidenz der beiden Bälle selbst kein eindeutiges ist, sondern eine um einen Mittelwert gelagerte Gruppe von eben noch genügenden Tatbeständen darstellt.”

“I once sold shoes. They were Buy One, Get One FREE. Then I met a customer with only one foot, and now I have an extra shoe. So, I filled it with duck eggs, because I ran out of room in the six pockets of my pool table.”

“Pausing at the threshold of the billiards room, she peered around the doorframe as gentlemen milled lazily around the table with drinks and cue sticks in hand. The clicks of ivory balls provided an arrhythmic undertone to the hum of masculine conversation. Her attention was caught by the sight of Matthew Swift in his shirtsleeves, leaning over the table to execute a perfect bank shot. His hands were deft on the cue stick, his blue eyes narrowed as he focused on the layout of balls on the table. Those ever-rebellious locks of hair had fallen over his forehead once more, and Daisy longed to push them back. As Swift sank a ball neatly into a side pocket, there was a scattering of applause, some low laughs, and a few coins changing hands. Standing, Swift produced one of his elusive grins and made a remark to his opponent, who turned out to be Lord Westcliff. Westcliff laughed at the comment and circled the table, an unlit cigar clamped between his teeth as he considered his options. The air of relaxed masculine enjoyment in the room was unmistakable. As Westcliff rounded the table, he caught sight of Daisy peeking around the doorframe. He winked at her.”

“I like when you call me your girl,” I said, caressing his arm. “It makes me feel warm all over, but mainly in certain places.” “Fuck no,” Cooper grumbled even while grinning big. “I’m not getting distracted.” “Big baby,” I said, sitting down and crossing my arms over the prize. “Fine. I’ll let you lose the old fashioned way. By sucking more than me.”

“As in the game of billiards, the balls are constantly producing effects from mere chance, which the most skillful player could neither execute nor foresee, but which, when they do happen, serve mainly to teach him how much he has still to learn; so it is in the most profound and complicated game of politics and diplomacy. In both cases, we can only regulate our play by what we have seen, rather than by what we have hoped; and by what we have experienced, rather than by what we have expected.”

“If you are discouraged it is a sign of pride, because it shows you trust in your own powers. Never bother about other people's opinions. Be humble and you will never be disturbed. Remember St. Aloysius, who said he would continue to play billiards even if he knew he was going to die. Do you play well? Sleep well? Eat well? These are duties. Nothing is small for God.”

“Along the way [Mozart] got married; fathered seven children (two of whom survived into adulthood); performed as a pianist; violinist; and conductor; maintained a successful teaching studio; wrote thousands of letters; traveled widely; attended the theater religiously; played cards, billiards, and bocce; and rode horseback for exercise. Not bad for someone portrayed as a giggling idiot in the movies.”