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Leave Quotes

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Leave Quotes

“Hey! One of Edilio’s soldiers just came staggering in from the gas station. He says someone attacked, took the place over.” That silenced the argument. Sam, with exquisite contempt, turned to his girlfriend and said, “You want to go deal with it, Astrid?” Astrid flushed red. “No? I didn’t think so. Guess it will be up to me then.” He left silence in his wake. “Maybe we better pass some laws real quick so Sam can save our butts legally,” Howard said. “Howard, go get Orc,” Albert said. “Now you’re giving me orders, Albert?” Howard shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not you or her,” he said, jerking a thumb at Astrid. “You may not think much of me, you two, but at least I know who saves our butts. And if I got to take orders from someone, it’ll be the someone who just walked out of here.”

“He never should have left the island. He’d been there with Diana and Penny. He could have tossed Penny off a cliff and been fine on the island. Decent food, a beautiful mansion, electricity, and a soft bed with Diana in it. What had he been thinking, leaving the island? He missed Diana busting him. He missed her snarky voice. He missed her eye rolls and that skeptical look she had where she’d half close her eyes and look at him like he was too dumb to merit her full attention. He’d have killed, or at least injured, anyone else who treated him like that. But she wasn’t anyone else. He missed her hair. Her neck. Her breasts. She understood him. She loved him, in her own way. And if he had listened to her, he’d still be on the island. Somehow he would have found some fuel to keep the lights on there. Probably. And the food would have run out and then they’d have starved, but hey, this was the FAYZ, where all you could really hope to do was delay the pain.”

“Break every chain of mediocrity that confines you. You may have begun at a level below average, but dare to leave that side and paddle your steps to cross the river with honours.”

“How does it feel to break a part of you each day and feed to the demons inside the other person in the name of love. How many days will you do that? Have your ever thought about what happens after those demons had enough of you and decide to leave you for the taste of new soul? Look at yourself once, How much of you is remaining for yourself? Will ever get that part of you back?”

“It was cowardice, Mr Stevens. Simple cowardice. Where could I have gone? I have no family. Only my aunt. I love her dearly, but I can’t live with her for a day without feeling my whole life is wasting away. I did tell myself, of course, I would soon find some new situation. But I was so frightened, Mr Stevens. Whenever I thought of leaving, I just saw myself going out there and finding nobody who knew or cared about me. There, that’s all my high principles amount to. I feel so ashamed of myself. But I just couldn’t leave, Mr Stevens. I just couldn’t bring myself to leave.”

“A part of us always remains when we leave somewhere. It is a part we can never reclaim even if we revisit the place for it was never ours to begin with. There is so little of ourselves that belongs to us. This body is the earth’s. This heart is yours, and his and theirs. The only thing that is our own is our freedom of will— our freedom to choose our attitudes in life. All else is borrowed. All else is everyone else’s.”

“For God's sake, Gwen," he said gently. "What matter that I love you. That's not the bit that's always been missing." Her lips parted. They wished to ask a question she could not bear to bring herself to ask. He was never less than honest. The answer, than, was bound to be wrong." So she did not ask it as a question. "You won't leave me," she said. He drew a long breath. "There," he said, quietly, fiercely. "That is the answer to this riddle. The promises I can make, and the one I can't. Gwen." His hands closed on her wrists, tightening until she swallowed and found her courage and looked up at him. "I will never leave you willingly. Life is a risk, and so love is, as well. But I swear to God, you will not regret the gamble.”

“Henry...your father was a brave man." He continued attacking the metal with a sledgehammer, brutally hacking at the anvil. She wasn't sure he had heard her. Then, he stopped short, the hammer hanging heavy in the air, the fire snapping in front of him. "I was close enough to smell it," he seethed, not turning. "But I was afraid. I hid from it." Clang! I didn't do anything. "I should have done something." Clang! "I should have saved him." Valerie saw that he was destroying all of their half-finished projects. They would remain that way forever. "I've lost someone, too, Henry—I know how it is. Please, come away from the fire." He didn't. Clang! "Henry, please." One of the fiery specks spat out of the forge an landed on Henry's arm, searing his flesh. Punishing himself, he did not stop to remove it until finally, with one quick motion, he gestured violently towards the door, shaking it off. "Valerie, leave," he snarled. "I don't want you to see me like this.”

“Leave the quarters of the close-fisted selfishness and live in the edifice of an open-handed generosity. God gives to you, so you can share when it's required of you! Give out; conquer greed!”

“He had wished me well in finding my own fate to follow, and I never doubted his sincerity. But it had taken me years to accept that his absence in my life was a deliberate finality, an act he had chosen, a thing completed even as some part of my soul still dangled, waiting for his return. That, I think, is the shock of any relationship ending. It is realizing that what is still an ongoing relationship to someone is, for the other person, something finished and done with.”

“For Lucie," Peter said quietly, the flame of a gilded saint's candle fluttering in his hand." "Leave." Peter had anticipated this reaction and was prepared. He cleared his throat. "I'm paying my respects," he said, still trying to be polite. The woman was grieving for her daughter. "I can guess the reason you're here. I've just lost one daughter," she said, her hand on the door. "I won't lose another." "Wait," "She's all I have left," she said. "And you have nothing to offer her." Peter knew that she was right, that Valerie deserved better. But he could not give her up. "I have a trade. The same one as your husband." "I know what a woodcutter earns." Peter began to protest, but Suzette stopped him. "Henry Lazar is her only hope for a better life." Peter looked into Suzette's anguished eyes, her words hitting him somewhere deep. It sank in: He could not give Valerie a good life. "If you love her," Suzette said, her voice cracking, "you'll leave her alone.”