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Stairs Quotes

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Stairs Quotes

“No one would prevent her from venturing into the city, to a tavern, and drinking herself silly. No one would come to haul her back. She'd made it down the stairs. Life lay before her. Only, she found herself looking up. Toward the House where a Starfall party would be held in an hour. The male who would be there, who's encouraged her to come. She faced the city- the lovely, vibrant city. None of it seemed as vibrant as what waited above. The climb would be brutal, and almost without end, but at the top... Cassian would be waiting. As he had waited for her for years now. Nesta smiled. And began the climb.”

“I hate smug people.” Ros laughed. “That you do. And so you’re using his phone. He’ll explode, you know.” “Oh, it’ll be bad. ‘Cause I made all the phone calls on my list.” There was a pause. “No. You didn’t.” “I did.” “Fifty-one phone calls on the off-limits phone?” “Yup.” “Did you fall down the stairs or something? What is wrong with you?!”

“Cassian asked, 'What stair did you make it to?' 'One hundred eleven.' Nesta didn't rise. 'Pathetic.' Her fingers pushed into the floor, but her body didn't move. 'This stupid House wouldn't give me wine.' 'I figured that would be the only motivator to make you risk ten thousand stairs.' Her fingers dug into the stone floor once more. He threw her a crooked smile, glad for the distraction. 'You can't get up, can you?' Her arms strained, elbows buckling. 'Go fly into a boulder.' Cassian pushed off the wall and reached her in three strides. He wrapped his hands under her arms and hauled her up. She scowled at him the entire time. Glared at him some more when she swayed and he gripped her tighter, keeping her upright. 'I knew you were out of shape,' he observed, stepping away when she'd proved she wasn't about to collapse, 'but a hundred steps? Really?' 'Two hundred, counting the ones up,' she grumbled. 'Still pathetic.' She straightened her spine and raised her chin. Keep reaching out your hand. Cassian shrugged, turning toward the hall and the stairwell that would take him up to his rooms. 'If you get tired of being weak as a mewling kitten, come to training.' He glanced over a shoulder. Nesta still panted, her face flushed and furious. 'And participate.”

“Once outside, the detectives advanced up an escalator and to a floor with two elevators. One was labeled for the staff, and the other for guests. In the corner was a plain grey door which led up a staircase. “Monsieur Leor…” Jean began. “Are you up for a challenge?” “You want to run up the staircase.” Leor concluded, plainly. “Like schoolboys?” “Ouais, monsieur,” Jean replied, with a silly grin. “You can consider it your preliminary training, if that helps your dignity.”

“Which gate to enter? Which path to choose? Which stairs to take? Which direction to go? These questions can be very depressive! And sometimes the solution lies in being bold, in being imprudent!”

“To wish a life without stairs, without hills and mountains is to wish a dim life without the joy of rising with our own efforts!”

“In the New Year, never forget to thank to your past years because they enabled you to reach today! Without the stairs of the past, you cannot arrive at the future!”

“The biggest mistake of people who are afraid of a long staircase leading to their goal and give up on their goal is this: Focusing on the entire staircase, not the first step, because when you focus on the staircase, you will encounter dozens of steps, whereas when you focus on the first step, you will encounter only one step and you can overcome each step one by one and reach the top!”

“Now the work of art also represents a state of final equilibrium, of accomplished order and maximum relative entropy, and there are those who resent it. But art is not meant to stop the stream of life. Within a narrow span of duration and space the work of art concentrates a view of the human condition; and sometimes it marks the steps of progression, just as a man climbing the dark stairs of a medieval tower assures himself by the changing sights glimpsed through its narrow windows that he is getting somewhere after all.”

“Poorpeoplestaying intheir houses aslong astill thevery fire touched them, and then running into boats or clambering from one pair of stair by the waterside to another. And among other things, the poor pigeons I perceive were loath to leave their houses, but hovered about the windows and balconies till they were some of them burned, their wings, and fell down.”

“I was that kid. I was entertaining everybody in the living room and throwing myself down flights of stairs and making the family look special and making my mother feel better and I really wanted to make people happy. That has been my ministry my whole life. I call it The Church of F.F.C. - The Church of Freedom From Concern. And I'm a high priest in that church.”

“New Year's Eve. It's a promise of a night. Single, married or widowed, in love, loveless or lovelorn, we all leave our apartments and pick through snow in high heels, or descend subway stairs in tuxedos, lured to wherever we're going--whether we know it or not, would deny it or not--by the kiss of a stranger.”