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Ears Quotes

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Ears Quotes

“I took notes on the people around me, in my town, in my family, in my memory. I took notes on my own state of mind, my grandiosity, the low self-esteem. I wrote down the funny stuff I overheard. I learned to be like a ship's rat, veined ears trembling, and I learned to scribble it all down.”

PeopleMindSelfStatesStuffMemoriesMy OwnSelf EsteemLowsMy FamilyEarsTownsNotesShipsEsteemState Of MindRatsLow Self EsteemTremblingScribblesFunny Stuff
Book:Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life
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“I hoped that Grace would be a little bit of the best of all of us: Scarlett's spirit, and my mother's strength, Marion's determination, and Michael's sly humor. I wasn't sure what I could give, not just yet. But I would know when I told her about the comet, years from now, I would know. And I would lean close to her ear, saying the words no one else could hear, explaining it all. The language of solace and comets, and the girls we all become, in the end.”

KnowsGivingYearsLittlesEndsWould BeSpiritMotherGirlLanguageBitsGraceLittle BitDeterminationEarsExplainingSolaceSlyComets
Book:How to Deal
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“Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" said Zacharias Smith. "Here's an idea," said Ron loudly, "why don't you shut your mouth?" "Well, we've all turned up to learn from him, and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it," he said. "That's not what he said," said Fred Weasley. "Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" inquired George, pulling a long and lethal-looking metal instrument from inside one of the Zonko's bags. "Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this," said Fred.”

TryingWellsLongSaidIdeasBodyStuffMouthsEarsInstrumentsCleanSticksYour BodyBagsMetalsPullingWeasleyWeaselsFussyFred Weasley
Author:J. K. Rowling
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“Deftly whipping a small tuning fork from his pocket, he struck it smartly against a pillar and held it next to Jamie's left ear. Jamie rolled his eyes heavenward, but shrugged and obligingly sang a note. The little man jerked back as though he'd been shot.”

MenLittlesEyeNextLeftShotsEarsNotesHis EyesPocketsPillarsForksJamieLittle ManTuningWhipping
Book:The Outlander Series Bundle: Books 1, 2, 3, and 4: Outlander, Dragonfly in Amber, Voyager, Drums of Autumn
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“Heart weeps. Head tries to help heart. Head tells heart how it is, again: You will lose the ones you love. They will all go. But even the earth will go, someday. Heart feels better, then. But the words of head do not remain long in the ears of heart. Heart is so new to this. I want them back, says heart. Head is all heart has. Help, head. Help heart.”

WantFeelsTryingHeartLongHelpingEarthLosesEarsSomedayFeel Better
Book:Varieties of Disturbance: Stories
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“I'll just be your brother from now on." he said, looking at her with a hopeful expectation that she would be pleased, which made her want to scream that he was smashing her heart into pieces and he had to stop. "That's what you wanted, isn't it?" It took her a long time to answer, and when she did, her own voice sounded like an echo, coming from very far away. "Yes," she said, and she heard the rush of waves in her ears and her eyes stung as if from sand or salt spray. "That's what I wanted.”

IfsWantHeartLongMadeSaidWould BeEyeWantedVoiceAnswersPiecesHeardBrotherLong TimeExpectationsEarsWaveSandHopefulScreamSaltFar AwayEchoesHer EyesYour BrotherSpraySmashing
Book:City of Ashes
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“Even then, more than a year earlier, there were neurons in her head, not far from her ears, that were being strangled to death, too quietly for her to hear them. Some would argue that things were going so insiduously wrong that the neurons themselves initiated events that would lead to their own destruction. Whether it was molecular murder or cellular suicide, they were unable to warn her of what was happening before they died.”

YearsEventsHappeningsDestructionEarsMurderDiedSuicideArguingNeuronsCellular
Book:Lisa Genova Box Set: Still Alice and Left Neglected
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“Education doesn’t make you happy. Nor does freedom. We don’t become happy just because we’re free – if we are. Or because we’ve been educated – if we have. But because education may be the means by which we realize we are happy. It opens our eyes, our ears, tells us where delights are lurking, convinces us that there is only one freedom of any importance whatsoever, that of the mind, and gives us the assurance – the confidence – to walk the path our mind, our educated mind, offers.”

IfsGivingMindMayMeanDoeEyeRealizingWalksPathOffersEarsImportanceDelightEducatedConvinceAssuranceMake You HappyLurkingConvince UsEducated Mind
Author:Iris Murdoch
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“What about your freedom?" he whispered in her ear over a minute later, bracing his hands palms down on the wall beside her head. He made no move to stop her as she stroked and petted every inch of that sinfully gorgeous chest, all hard muscle and gleaming skin overlaid with silky-rough strands of dark hair. "Idiot." She nipped his jaw with her teeth. "The only freedom I ever wanted was the right to love you.”

MadeHardHandsWantedMovingDarkMinutesLove YouHairWallSkinsEarsTeethIdiotMusclesRoughChestsInchesPalmsGorgeousStrandsYour FreedomDark Hair
Book:Paranormal Holiday Anthology Trio
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“Into the silence rips a sound that makes me let go of Max's hand and cover my ears. It is like the strafe of a bullet, nails on a chalkboard, promises being broken. It's a note I have never heard - this chord of pure pain - and it takes a moment to realize it is coming from me.”

MomentsHandsPainSoundRealizingSilenceHeardBrokenPromisePureLetting GoEarsNotesNailsBulletsChordsRipMaxBeing BrokenChalkboards
Book:Sing You Home: A Novel
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“In a world of chance is there a better and a worse? We yield to a stranger's embrace or give ourselves to the waves; for the blink of an eyelid our vigilance relaxes; we are asleep; and when we awake, we have lost the direction of our lives. What are these blinks of an eyelid, against which the only defence is an eternal and inhuman wakefulness? Might they not be the cracks and chinks through which another voice, other voices, speak in our lives? By what right do we close our ears to them? (Susan Barton)”

WorldGivingMightLostSpeakVoiceChanceOur LivesEternalEarsEmbraceWaveStrangerAwakeRelaxLive ByCracksYieldDefenceChances AreBlinkInhumanVigilanceEyelidsChinks
Book:Foe: A Novel
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“In order to arouse sympathy, the aristocracy was obliged to lose sight, apparently, of its own interests, and to formulate its indictment against the bourgeoisie in the interest of the exploited working class alone. Thus, the aristocracy took their revenge by singing lampoons on their new masters and whispering in his ears sinister prophesies of coming catastrophe.”

OrderInterestLosesClassMastersSingingEarsSightRevengeWorking ClassCatastropheObligedAristocracyWhisperingSinisterBourgeoisieIndictment
Book:The Communist Manifesto: A Road Map to History's Most Important Political Document
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“...if you are writing without zest, without gusto, without love, without fun, you are only half a writer. It means you are so busy keeping one eye on the commercial market, or one ear peeled for the avant-garde coterie, that you are not being yourself. You don't even know yourself. For the first thing a writer should be is-- excited. He should be a thing of fevers and enthusiasms.”

IfsKnowsShouldWritingFirstsMeanEyeFunHalfEarsBusyExcitedEnthusiasmBeing YourselfKnow YourselfFeverWithout LoveAvant GardeZestGustoNot Being Yourself
Book:Zen in the Art of Writing
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“My daughter squealed again and both Bubba and I winced. It’s not an attractive sound, that. It’s high-pitched and it enters your ear canals like hot glass. No matter how much I love my daughter, I will never love her squealing. Or maybe I will. Maybe I do. Driving down 93, I realized once and for all, that I love the things that chafe. The things that fill me with stress so total I can’t remember when a block of it didn’t rest on top of my heart. I love what, if broken, can’t be repaired. What, if lost can’t be replaced. I love my burdens.”

IfsHeartI CanMatterRememberLostSoundBrokenMy HeartDaughterEarsStressHotGlassesBurdenI RealizedDrivingBlockAttractiveWhat IfMy DaughterReplacedRemember WhenCanalsBubbaLove My DaughterI Love My DaughterSquealing
Author:Dennis Lehane
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“A surging, seething, murmuring crowd of beings that are human only in name, for to the eye and ear they seem naught but savage creatures, animated by vile passions and by the lust of vengeance and of hate. The hour, some little time before sunset, and the place, the West Barricade, at the very spot where, a decade later, a proud tyrant raised an undying monument to the nation's glory and his own vanity.”

HumansLittlesSeemsEyeHatePassionNamesNationsHoursProudCreaturesGloryEarsWestRaisedCrowdsDecadesLustSpotsVanitySunsetTyrantsSavagesVengeanceMonumentAnimatedLittle TimeMurmuringBarricadesSeethingBefore Sunset
Book:The Scarlet Pimpernel
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“I'm so sorry, Henri," I whisper in his ear. I close my eyes. "I love you. I wouldn't have missed a second of it, either. Not for anything," I whisper. "I'm going to take you back yet. Somehow I am going to get you back to Lorien. We always joked about it but you were my father, the best father I could have ever asked for. I'll never forget you, not for a minute for as long as I live. I love you, Henri. I always did.”

LongEyeFatherForgetMinutesLove YouEarsSorryNever ForgetForget YouFather And SonBest FatherI'm So Sorry
Author:Pittacus Lore
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“Say something in Mandarin,” said Tessa, with a smile. Jem said something that sounded like a lot of breathy vowels and consonants run together, his voice rising and falling melodically: “Ni hen piao liang.” “What did you say?” Tessa was curious. “I said your hair is coming undone — here,” he said, and reached out and tucked an escaping curl back behind her ear. Tessa felt the blood spill hot up into her face, and was glad for the dimness of the carriage. “You have to be careful with it,” he said, taking his hand back, slowly, his fingers lingering against her cheek.”

SaidHandsRunningTogetherFacesFallFeltVoiceBehindsBloodHairEarsHotFingersCarefulGladCuriousRisingBe CarefulCheeksUndoneEscapingSpillsCurlsCarriagesJemLingeringTessa GrayHensJem CarstairsVowelsConsonantsClockwork Prince
Author:Cassandra Clare
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“APD is primarily defined as a lack of empathy,' I said. I'd looked it up too, a few months ago. Empathy is what allows people to interpret emotion, the same way ears interpret sounds; without it you become emotionally deaf. 'It means I don't connect emotionally with other people. I wondered if he was going to pick that one.' 'How do you even know that?' she said. 'You're fifteen years old, for goodness' sake. You should be ... I don't know, chasing girls or playing video games.' 'You're telling a sociopath to chase girls?”

PeopleIfsKnowsWayShouldYearsMeanSaidGirlGamesSoundEmotionMonthsGoodnessEmpathyPicksEarsSakeVideoDefinedFifteenChasingDeafSociopathFifteen YearsLack Of EmpathyFifteen Years OldPlaying Video GamesChasing A Girl
Book:I Am Not A Serial Killer
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“I think the most joyous thing in life is to loaf around and watch another bloke do a job of work. Look how popular are the men who dig up London with electric drills. Duke's son, cook's son, son of a hundred kings, people will stand there for hours on end, ear drums splitting. Why? Simply for the pleasure of being idle while watching other people work.”

PeopleThinkingMenLooksEndsJobsLife IsHoursPleasureWatchesSonKingsHundredEarsLondonCooksElectricThings In LifeIdleJoyousDukesDrillsSplittingBlokes
Author:Dorothy L. Sayers
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“Dachshunds have their own agenda and can be stubborn about seeing their plans through to completion. What Rosie lacked in consistency, she made up for in enthusiasm. Most of the time when I called her name, she sprinted back, her long ears cocked and flying like a little girl's pigtails. Each encounter was a glorious reunion, even if we'd been parted for only a minute or two. I had never felt so loved.”

IfsLittlesLongMadeTwoGirlNamesFeltPlansSeeingMinutesEarsFlyingEnthusiasmGloriousEncountersAgendasConsistencyStubbornCompletionReunionRosieDachshundsPigtails
Author:Mary Doria Russell
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“Think you a little din can daunt mine ears? Have I not in my time heard lions roar? Have I not heard the sea, puffed up with winds, Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat? Have I not heard great ordinance in the field, And Heaven's artillery thunder in the skies? Have I not in a pitched battle heard Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets' clang? And do you tell me of a woman's tongue, That gives not half so great a blow to hear As will a chestnut in a farmer's fire? Tush! tush! fear boys with bugs. Grumio: For he fears none.”

ThinkingGivingLittlesHeavenHalfBoysFireHeardSeaSkyFieldsMinesWindBattleEarsAngryBlowTongueRageLoudMy TimeLionsFarmersSweatThunderBugsTrumpetsOrdinancesArtilleryTamingFear NoneChestnutsTaming Of The ShrewShrewsBoars
Book:The Taming of the Shrew
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“The harmony that holds the stars on their courses and the flesh on our bones resonates through all creation. Every sound contains its echo. Before there was humankind, or even forest, there was sound. Sound spread from the source in great circles like those formed when a stone is dropped in a pool. We follow waves of sound from life to life. A dying man’s ears will hear long after his eyes are blind. He hears the sound that leads him to his next life as the Source of All being plucks the harp of creation.”

MenLongEyeCoursesNextStarsSoundDyingCreationSourceStonesEarsHarmonyBlindWaveSpreadBonesFleshCirclesForestsHis EyesPoolHumankindEchoesPluckHarpsNext Life
Author:Morgan Llywelyn
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