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Twists Quotes

Browse 482 quotes about Twists.

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Twists Quotes

“You see that girl, she looks so happy right? But inside she's dying. She's hurt and tired. Tired of all the drama, tired of not being good enough, tired of life. But she doesn't want to look dramatic, weak or attention seeking so she keeps it all inside. Act's like everything's perfect but she cries at night, boy does she cry at night, so that everybody thinks she is the happiest person they know, that she has no problems and her life is perfect. Little do they know.”

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Book:Exactly 23 Days
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“A six-foot-tall man—likely in his mid-twenties—appeared, effortlessly striking in a black shirt with the top two buttons undone, revealing a slim gold chain resting against the curve of his neck. His Adam’s apple moved with quiet confidence. He wore loose beige trousers held in place by a simple black belt, the look casual yet deliberate. A sleek watch clung to his left wrist, and the sleeves of his shirt were neatly rolled up to his elbows, exposing forearms toned just enough to notice. His hair dense, black, and brushed back, though a few rebellious strands had fallen onto his fore-head, softening the sharpness of his features. His lips—unexpectedly light pink—stood out against his warm wheat-brown complexion. Draped casu-ally over one shoulder was a bag that didn’t quite match the rest of him—delicate, almost feminine. It looked like something that belonged to his mother. He didn’t seem to care; he carried it like it was the most natural thing in the world. “What are you doing here?” he asked to Mohini, looking at Nia with sur-prise. He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze steady. “Your mom got hit by a suitcase, her knees are bleeding. Can you please ask her to do first aid quickly before it gets worse?” Nia stood up, her words tumbling out fast, her brow slightly furrowed. “What? You got hurt? How? Show me,” he said, sitting down beside his mother’s knees, his hand gently lifting the fabric to reveal dried blood on her clothes. “It must be a small scratch. It bled, but it’s stopped now—and see, the blood has hardened,” Mohini said in a casual tone, waving her hand as if to brush away the concern. “I know it’s not hurting you, but sometimes a small wound changes into something bigger if we don’t look after it at the right time. See, it’s almost time to board—please go to the restroom and wash it out at least. The amount of blood is not that small,” Nia said, standing again as she spoke, bending to grab her bag and finally managing to lift it onto her shoulder. “Well… thank you for taking care of my mom,” the man said, looking at Nia with deliberate attention, his eyes steady on hers. “He is my son—Dev,” Mohini introduced, her voice carrying quiet pride. “Nice to meet you,” Nia said, stepping sideways to leave the table space, her body angled toward the exit. “It was nice meeting you too, Ma’am. I have to go. Bye,” Nia smiled, giv-ing a small nod before turning away and walking off.”

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Book:Violets: Where Love Blooms Quietly
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“James Heron dreamed he was once more in the abandoned tunnels on Mars. As he walked, the barren rocky landscape transformed into hills of tangled vegetation. Lightning played in tall cumulus clouds in a darkening sky, and the sky was definitely an Earth sky, not a Martian one. He seemed to have companions, but their clothing was strange—very old fashioned, in fact, as if they belonged in the nineteenth century. He didn’t recognise the landscape, but it seemed to be on Earth, and the group, several youths and a few older men, appeared to be suffering from the heat, plucking their shirts which displayed damp patches of perspiration. A short distance ahead of him walked a heavily built man who evidently was not enjoying the walk in the heat, his face flushed crimson and perspiring profusely. The sky darkened and large drops of rain pelted the group, and they increased their pace. His view changed slightly as someone behind him called something he could not quite hear. The lightning seemed to be getting closer, and he and a companion—a youth, he noted ran for cover. He could smell the rain on the wet earth, and the fragrance of the vegetation intensified. He could feel the tension of the group—their fear perhaps? Suddenly there was a blinding flash that seemed to engulf him—and then he jolted awake bathed in perspiration.”

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Book:First into the Fray
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“I’ll talk to him any way I want to. Sure, you could try roughing me up, but you might want to stop and think about that, because you won’t always be in that uniform, and you won’t always have your buddies around, and this island—well, it’s an island. If you don’t know it as well as we do, and you don’t know the places to avoid, such as the beaches the pleurodons like, let’s just say a man with enemies could find life a little tricky here.” He stared the man down. “Are you threatening me, Grover?” “Not a threat. Just a warning. This planet is a wild, untamed place. It can be harsh and cruel when you least expect it.”

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Book:First into the Fray
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“Samantha tuned out her own words, her gaze drifting to the cramped confines of her studio apartment. Empty takeout containers littered the coffee table, their greasy scent mingling with the stale coffee and dust motes hanging in the air. Although it differed significantly from the tidy rural home of her upbringing, she took pride in owning it.”

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Book:Fertile Ground for Murder
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“The weapon gave a rusty croak. ‘I don’t normally do weather reports anymore,’ the gun informed him politely. ‘Why is that?’ ‘Ever since the demise of the old metropolis, there has been no control of the weather systems. Anyone who would have appreciated a weather forecast perished an awful long time ago. Besides, every time I started to inform my potential victims of the current cloud formations, or wind velocity, or barometric pressure, or potential precipitation, they simply ran away.”

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Book:Our Blue Orange
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“Our Master can see it all. If you drive down a long curvy road, you don’t see the twists and turns until you are on top of them. But when you see things from a much higher perspective, you can see the whole road and the twists and the turns and the beginning and the end. In Heaven we can see where you are in relation to where you’re going and we can make things happen along the way at the intersections of life. We can create the right time and the right place and we can already see how it all ends. We can see the whole story of your life while you are living it in little bits and pieces.”

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Book:Jack McAfghan: Return from Rainbow Bridge: A Dog's Afterlife Story of Loss, Love and Renewal
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“No one can liberate you, for no one has bound you; you hold on to the nettle of worldly pleasures and you weep for pain. The kite is pursued by the crows so long as it carries the fish in its beak, it twists and turns in the sky trying to last and it drops the fish. That moment it is free. So give up the attachment to the senses; then grief and worry can harass you no more.”

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Author:Sathya Sai Baba
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“It is dangerous and harmful to be guided in our life's course by hatreds and aversions, for they are wasteful of energy and limit and twist the mind and prevent it from perceiving the truth.”

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Book:Wit and Wisdom of Gandhi, Nehru, Tagore: Being a Treasury of Over Ten Thousand Invaluable and Inspiring Thoughts, Views, and Obervations on about Eight Hundred Subjects of Popular Interest, Collected from the Speeches and Writings of These Three Great Leaders of Modern India
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“Once upon a time, began the story of you.Many perilous, wonderful, harrowing, brilliant, delightful, profound things happened.And yet—the most exciting twists and best turns are yet to come. And it absolutely does not matter how old or young you are.Like a bright carpet of wonders, enjoy the unrolling of your story.”

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Author:Vera Nazarian
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“R.G. Belsky's thought-provoking thriller, The Kennedy Connection, introduces us to a smart, witty, and human hero whose quest to find answers about two crimes - one famous, one all but unnoticed - is loaded with tension and full of unexpected twists and turns. I loved The Kennedy Connection, and can't wait for the next Gil Malloy novel.”

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Author:Jan Burke
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