Baby On The Doorstep Quotes

It's about showing someone you care for them, wanting them to care for you, doing things they like because you want them to be happy. Because their happiness makes you happy. That's love, Dane. That's how you'll win…your daughter over. ~ Roxanne Snopek

Love comes in seemingly insignificant moments and if you're not paying attention, you might miss them. ~ Roxanne Snopek

Once his life had been like this. He applied strength and determination to a messy problem until the stickiness went away, strands of sense formed and suddenly a hopeless mess was transformed into something beautiful, delectable, something everyone wanted.
Now, no matter how hard he tried, no one wanted what he had to offer. ~ Roxanne Snopek

Without you, I'm not me. Something inside that I didn't even know about is broken without you. ~ Roxanne Snopek

The gut wrenching howling as they informed me, "dead on arrival. Baby could not survive outside her mother's womb." Every finite detail of the worst night of my life played through my mind in HD Technicolor. Somewhere in the haze between past and reality, I heard a soft voice. "Nik? Can you hear me? Come back, you're scaring me, ~ Lora Ann

I love the company of actors, but the crazier it gets, the more I've come to realise how valuable my time is with my friends who work on the land or are builders or, you know, make music. Work in offices. Run shops. ~ Andrea Riseborough

As she watched, he examined the can intently, read the ingredients, then returned it to the shelf and chose another, repeating his thorough study of it.
The contrast between his rough, tough-guy appearance and the domestic act he was performing did funny things to her head.
She had a sudden, breathtaking vision of a dark-haired little boy sitting in the seat of the cart, laughing up at Cian, grabbing at his swinging braids with chubby little fists, while his daddy inspected the ingredients on a jar of baby food. Her mind's eye
picture of sexy, strong man with beautiful, helpless child made something soft and warm blossom behind her chest. ~ Karen Marie Moning

It didn't matter to him, he realized, whether he had to swim the distance or walk on water, as wonderful as the latter was. What mattered was that Jesus was with him. Perhaps he was beginning to trust him after all, even if it was only in baby steps. ~ Wm. Paul Young

How do you get through any of your classes?" Cath had hours of assigned reading, almost every single night.
"Coping strategies."
"Such as?"
"I record my lectures and listen to them later. Professors usually cover most of what's on the test in class. And I find study groups."
"And you lean on Reagan --"
"Not just Reagan." He grinned. "I'm really good at quickly identifying the smartest girl in every class."
Cath frowned at him. "God, Levi, that's so exploitive."
"How is it exploitive? I don't make them wear miniskirts. I don't call them 'baby.' I just say, 'Hello, smart girl, would you like to talk to me about Great Expectations?'"
"They probably think you like them."
"I do like them."
"If it wasn't exploitive, you'd harass smart boys, too --"
"I do, in a pinch. Do you feel exploited, Cather?" He was still grinning at her over his coffee cup.
"No," she said, "I know that you don't like me."
"You don't know anything."
"So, this is old hat for you? Finding a girl to read a whole book to you?"
He shook his head. "No, this is a first."
"Well, now I feel exploited," she said, setting her drink down and reaching for the book.
"Thank you," he said.
"Chapter seven --"
"I'm serious." Levi pulled the book down and looked at her. "Thank you."
Cath held his eyes for a few seconds. Then she nodded and pulled back the book. ~ Rainbow Rowell

Nick ran smack into me.
"Ooof!" he hollered, grabbing me around the waist to keep me from falling down the rest of the staircase.
That's when I realized Mom thought Nick and I were going on a date together.
Quickly Nick let me go.He looked huge, frowning down at me from the step above. "Why are you stopping in the middle of the stairs?"
"Why are you tailgating me?"
He put his hand behind me, at butt level, without touching me. "What is that?" he demanded.
I bent a little and slapped my butt, "Something the heir to a meat fortune should know all about. USDA grade-A prime,baby." I straightened. "Just kidding. Really, it's my butt."
He put his hands on his hips, and from below I noticed his strong superhero chin again.He grumbled, "Why do you have 'boy toy' written across your butt?"
"Oh!" I put my hand over the words, realizing that I probably should have been embarrassed about this sooner. "These are my brother's jeans. He wrote it to annoy me. Or to get me a date. ~ Jennifer Echols

Her name is Lysandra Keates, and she arrived uninvited on my doorstep a few days ago. I do not know the particulars of her situation as of yet, but my impression is that she is in dire straits. She has begged me to match her with a man." "I am not looking for a mistress!" Andrew snapped, but he couldn't help a brief, powerful image of the girl in the garden…in his bed, her legs wrapped around him as he drove into her. ~ Jess Michaels

Most people's reality is an illusion, a great big illusion. You automatically have to succumb to the illusion that 'I am this body'. I am not George. I am not really George. I am this living thing that goes on, always has been, always will be, but at
this time I happen to be in 'this' body. The body has changed; was a baby, was a young man, will
soon be an old man, and I'll be dead. The
physical body will pass but this bit in the middle,
that's the only reality. All the rest is the illusion,
so to say that somebody thinks we are, the ex-
Beatles are removed from reality in their personal concept. It does not have any truth to it just because somebody thinks it. They are the concepts which become layer upon layer of illusion. Why live in the darkness all your life? Why, if you are unhappy, if you are having a miserable time, why not just look at it. Why are you in the darkness? Look for the light. The light is within. That is the big message ~ George Harrison

Suddenly, as Avis clung to her father's neck and ear while, with a casual arm, the man enveloped his lumpy and large offspring, I saw Lolita's smile lose all its light and become a frozen little shadow of itself, and the fruit knife slipped off the table and struck her with its silver handle a freak blow on the ankle which made her gasp, and crouch head forward, and then, jumping on one leg, her face awful with the preparatory grimace which children hold till the tears gush, she was gone - to be followed at once and consoled in the kitchen by Avis who had such a wonderful fat pink dad and a small chubby brother, and a brand-new baby sister, and a home, and two grinning dogs, and Lolita had nothing. ~ Vladimir Nabokov

Kangaroos give birth to only one baby at a time. So as soon as one baby is born, the female gets pregnant again. Otherwise the kangaroo population would never sustain itself. This means the female kangaroo spends her entire life either pregnant or nursing babies. If she's not pregnant, she's nursing babies; if she's not nursing babies, she's pregnant. You could say she exists just to ensure the continuance of the species. The kangaroo species wouldn't survive if there weren't any kangaroos, and if their purpose wasn't to go on existing, kangaroos wouldn't be around in the first place. ~ Haruki Murakami

On the pavement near my car are the smashed skeletons of two baby birds, their flattened beaks and wings making them look reptilian. They've been there for a year. I can't resist looking at them each time I get in my car. We need a good flood, wash them away. ~ Gillian Flynn

Confused, she pressed a fist to her mouth to stifle her sobs as her tears came harder.
The door opened and Lucas stood there, bare-chested, a pair of jeans riding low on his lean hips. "Nora? Ah, hell. I hurt you, didn't I?"
He moved into the room and pulled her into his arms, hugging her to his chest. She wanted to fight it, avoid her feelings, but she melted into him, absorbing his warm strength.
"I'm sorry, baby," he murmured.
She shook her head. "you didn't hurt me."
Some of the tension left his muscles. "Well, not to worry, you only hurt me a little, but I'm taking it like a man. ~ Jennifer Lowery

At home in Nigeria, all a mother had to do for a baby was wash and feed him and, if he was fidgety, strap him onto her back and carry on with her work while that baby slept. But in England she had to wash piles and piles of nappies, wheel the child round for sunshine during the day, attend to his feeds as regularly as if one were serving a master, talk to the child, even if he was only a day old! Oh, yes, in England, looking after babies was in itself a full-time job. ~ Buchi Emecheta

What I really want to tell him is to pick up that baby of his and hold her tight, to set the moon on the edge of her crib and to hang her name up in the stars. ~ Jodi Picoult

But the loneliness was still on Danny and demanded an outlet.
'Here we sit,' he began at last.
' - broken-hearted,' Pilon added rhythmically.
'No, this is not a poem,' Danny said. 'Here we sit, homeless. We gave our lives for our country, and now we have no roof over our head.'
'We never did have,' Pilon added helpfully.
Danny drank dreamily until Pilon touched his elbow and took the bottle.
'That reminds me,' Danny said, 'of a story of a man who owned two whore-houses
' His mouth dropped open. 'Pilon! my little fat duck of a baby friend. I had forgotten! I am an heir! I own two houses.'
'Whore-houses?' Pilon asked hopefully. 'Thou art a drunken liar,' he continued.
'No, Pilon. I tell the truth. The viejo died. I am the heir. I, the favourite grandson.'
'Thou art the only grandson,' said the realist Pilon. ~ John Steinbeck

I want you here. I want you in my home, my bed, my life," he murmured, the smooth out of his voice, it was low and so rough with sex and emotion, it was abrasive, scoring through me.
"Baby –"
"I want your clothes in my closet. I wanna hear your voice in my house when you're talkin' on the phone. I want you sittin' beside me when we're watchin' TV. I want shit you like in my fridge. I want "your razors in my shower. I want my roof over your head. Your car in my garage. I want to give you what I should have been giving you for sixteen years. As good as you deserve. A showplace. A place where I can make you happy."
God. He was killing me.
"Creed, let me –"
He didn't let me finish. He pressed on, driving in, our bodies jolting with his thrusts, his voice harsh in my ear.

"Give me that, Sylvie. Give me that and, swear to God, I'll give you everything."
"I –"
His head came up, his cock drove deep and stayed planted and his eyes burned into mine.
"All I'll ask. All I'll ever ask. You give me that and you got a lifetime of nothin' but take. ~ Kristen Ashley

I decided to go and see another film, just to take my mind off Star Wars, and noticed that a film called The Matrix was playing in the same theatre. Two hours later, I re-emerged into the street full of the excitement and satisfaction that The Phantom Menace had failed to inspire. The Matrix seemed fresh and cool and visually breathtaking; making wonderful, intelligent use of CGI to augment the on-screen action, striking a perfect balance of the real and the hyperreal. It was possibly the coolest film I had ever seen. Ironically, fraternal directing team the Wachowskis faltered quickly with their sequels, killing their baby in just three years. Credit to George Lucas, it took him twenty-five to murder his. ~ Simon Pegg

Moloch merely shovels babies into the fire of productive capitalism. Mammon hooks them on the dead heroin of envy. ~ Hakim Bey

Please let him come, and give me the resilience & guts to make him respect me, be interested, and not to throw myself at him with loudness or hysterical yelling; calmly, gently, easy baby easy. He is probably strutting the backs among crocuses now with seven Scandinavian mistresses. And I sit, spiderlike, waiting, here, home; Penelope weaving webs of Webster, turning spindles of Tourneur. Oh, he is here; my black marauder; oh hungry hungry. I am so hungry for a big smashing creative burgeoning burdened love: I am here; I wait; and he plays on the banks of the river Cam like a casual faun. ~ Sylvia Plath

The night I killed Packo I had a terrible dream. A hideous female corpse was floating towards me through a closed window. Calling itself 'Bonna', the corpse kept insisting that it was the real rebel, the real iconoclast. Its face had the same grim, sickly look I had observed on USA establishment figures, and I believe that it was the baby boomer generation incarnate…utterly enslaved to globalism, yet still desperately wanting to be seen as 'edgy' and 'rebellious'. ~ Paul Christensen

I hate the attitude of, 'oh we already have a Lydia Lunch, so we do we need a Bikini Kill.' Well, there's like 2 hundered million all-male bands writting 'baby baby I love you, let me drag you around on my ankle.' Is that enough already? Duh! ~ Kathleen Hanna

The Falcon of Central Park West
On the highest parapet of that castle like building
I reside at on Central Park West, a falcon nests.
I've reported this to the slavic doorman, the ASPCA,
and to the presiding coop board, to no avail.
This raptor launches from my parapet at blinding speed, sailing
over Central Park like a kite, picking up baby squirrels
and d-CON resistant rats to regurgitate to her fledglings.
A first I thought her a nuisance, a stowaway on a luxury liner.
But now I'm quite fond of my falcon, my avatar,
doing what she's 'gotta do' to survive in New York,
and keep her lofty crib in the castle
just like the rest of us. ~ Beryl Dov

I remembered Daemon's feather soft kisses on my cheek, and I remembered the clouds parting and the sun shining on a cold February day in Ireland. And as my baby girl was laid on my chest and my husband held my hand, I saw my best friend Kat walk into the sun kissed part in the clouds, hand in hand, along with the last regrets of my past. ~ Rebecca Boucher

When you're an actor on set, people treat you like a giant baby. They don't let you do anything. Like, "Do you need any food? Do you need the bathroom?" ~ Rooney Mara

MY BOSS SENDS me home because of all the dried blood on my pants, and I am overjoyed.
The hole punched through my cheek doesn't ever heal. I'm going to work, and my punched-out eye sockets are two swollen-up black bagels around the little piss holes I have left to see through. Until today, it really pissed me off that I'd become this totally centered Zen Master and nobody had noticed. Still, I'm doing the little FAX thing. I write little HAIKU things and FAX them around to everyone. When I pass people in the hall at work, I get totally ZEN right in everyone's hostile little FACE.
Worker bees can leave
Even drones can fly away
The queen is their slave

You give up all your worldly possessions and your car and go live in a rented house in the toxic waste part of town where late at night, you can hear Marla and Tyler in his room, calling each other hum; butt wipe.
Take it, human butt wipe.
Do it, butt wipe.
Choke it down. Keep it down, baby.
Just by contrast, this makes me the calm little center of the world.
Me, with my punched-out eyes and dried blood in big black crusty stains on my pants, I'm saying HELLO to everybody at work. HELLO! Look at me. HELLO! I am so ZEN. This is BLOOD. This is NOTHING. Hello. Everything is nothing, and it's so cool to be ENLIGHTENED. Like me.
Sigh.
Look. Outside the window. A bird.
My boss asked if the blood was my blood.
The bird flies downwind. I'm writing a ~ Chuck Palahniuk

Agape's object is always the concrete individual, not some abstraction called humanity. Love of humanity is easy because humanity does not surprise you with inconvenient demands. You never find humanity on your doorstep, stinking and begging. ~ Peter Kreeft

That's a poweful ability you've got there. Seriously, I was Contemplating killing Cody so we could be a couple.'
She snorted, but she never stopped smiling. 'We'd never make it romantically. You're too demanding in bed. "Harder, Rome. Now, Rome. Tie me up, Rome."'
'Bitch,' I muttered good-naturedley. It was nice to have my friend back. 'You know you wouldn't be able to get enough of me.'
'I like where this conversation is headed,' a male voice said from the doorway.
I looked past Sherridan and spotted Rome in the doorway.
'Hey, baby,' he said.
'Cat Man.' A more welcome sight I'd never beheld. My heart even picked up speed, my monitor announcing it for all the world to hear..
He stalked to me and unceremoniously shoved me aside on the bed where he plopped down and cuddled me close. 'Mad?'
As if. 'I'm grateful. I was walking toward Sherridan with every intention of making out with her, so you did me a favor. She would have fallen in love with me, and then where would we have been?'
'Now I'm mad at /myself/ for stopping you,' he grumbled, and we all laughed. Men! ~ Gena Showalter

We talked on the phone for a long time yesterday," she said. "He's sorry, Joe. He's really sorry. He broke down and cried like a baby." "I can't believe I'm hearing this. Why don't you at least ~ Scott Pratt

(Her husband's departure ... ) had picked Mildred up by the hair and dropped her down at the doorstep of insanity.
From Butterfly on F street ~ Edward P. Jones

MICHAEL WAS STILL FILMING. HE HAD ALREADY used up two cartridges recording the nervousness in the waiting room and was working on the third. Things were getting monotonous. But he kept filming. It was either that or fall asleep, and he refused to fall asleep. He didn't care if it was four in the morning, he wasn't missing the birth of Leigh's baby. Of course, it might have been nice if they'd let him into the delivery room with Leigh and Jon. Videographers did that all the time. Okay, so he had a cold. Wasn't that what dentist's masks were for? ~ Barbara Delinsky

Back to what? A guy who bails on you when you need him? What's Dane doing now that's more important than helping you? Fighting for the rights of endangered ferns?"
I stiffened and pushed away from him, irritation jolting me out of my fugue-state. "You have no right to judge Dane or my relationship with him."
Jack made a scoffing sound. "That half-assed excuse for a relationship was over the moment Dane told you not to bring the baby to Austin. You know what he should have said? ... 'Hell, yes, Ella, I'll stand by you no matter what you do. Shit happens. We'll make it work. Come home now and get in bed. ~ Lisa Kleypas

He had golden-brown hair, the most vivid baby-blue eyes, and a body that belonged on the cover of Men's Health magazine. Her gaze roamed over his broad shoulders and down his chest. ~ Lia Davis

There is nothing so bracing as planning a murder. I recommend it to the weak-willed and those with a leaky sense of self. It is fortifying as a drop of coagulant in a solution. I had planned (The word is too strong. Imagined. Anticipated?) this particular murder for so many years that it had taken on an air of performance and respectability. To understand how a murder can be domesticated and even humdrum may be hard for fans of the pounce of the soundtrack, the streak of scarlet, the gunky skeleton jiggling in the flashlight beam. But I am convinced that if murder is horrible, its for the overflow into the ordinary: severed heads in Ziploc bags, the dead baby in the dumpster behind Chubby's. Anyone who has eaten a pork chop has all the information she needs for murder…It takes a special kind of person, a criminal, to commit a crime? You know better; in your dreams you've already tried it… ~ Shelley Jackson

You love the way it makes me feel when I can't catch my breath Like walkin' on a high wire, Lord, it scares me half to death You're always high above me and I'm always fallin' down Our loves just a circus baby, and I'm just the clown ~ Conway Twitty

I'm here. Soon I won't be. Zoey's baby is here. Its pulse tick-ticking. Soon it won't be. And when Zoey comes out of that room, having signed on the dotted line, she'll be different. She'll understand what I already know- that death surrounds us all.
And it tastes like metal between you teeth. ~ Jenny Downham

You should have worn a baby pink t-shirt on which a child sucks his thumb. That would have given you the required juvenile look.

~ Subhangi Tyagi ~ Kirtida Gautam

When he's sliding down my body and planting greedy kisses on my inner thighs. "Better than ice cream," he rasps against my sensitive flesh, his tongue coming out to tickle my clit. "So much sweeter, baby." Then he captures the little bud between his lips and sucks hard enough to make me cry out. "Oh my God," I choke. My fingers tangle in his hair, keeping him trapped between my thighs. "Keep doing that." His laughter vibrates through my body. He continues to suckle me while one finger teases my folds, circling my opening until finally, slowly, slipping inside. I gasp in delight and rock against him. He's rocking, too, I realize. He's all but fucking the mattress as he licks and sucks and groans. ~ Sarina Bowen

I am still surprised on a regular basis at the love I feel for the spirit of God, the deep respect and emotion that I experience when I see an expanse of water or a new baby or the kindness of strangers. ~ Shauna Niequist

Richards remembered the day - that glorious and terrible day - watching the planes slam into the towers, the image repeated in endless loops. The fireballs, the bodies falling, the liquefaction of a billion tons of steel and concrete, the pillowing clouds of dust. The money shot of the new millennium, the ultimate reality show broadcast 24-7. Richards had been in Jakarta when it happened, he couldn't even remember why. He'd thought it right then; no, he'd felt it, right down to his bones. A pure, unflinching rightness. You had to give the military something to do of course, or they'd all just fucking shoot each other. But from that day forward, the old way of doing things was over. The war - the real war, the one that had been going on for a thousand years and would go on for a thousand thousand more - the war between Us and Them, between the Haves and the Have-Nots, between my gods and your gods, whoever you are - would be fought by men like Richards: men with faces you didn't notice and couldn't remember, dressed as busboys or cab drivers or mailmen, with silencers tucked up their sleeves. It would be fought by young mothers pushing ten pounds of C-4 in baby strollers and schoolgirls boarding subways with vials of sarin hidden in their Hello Kitty backpacks. It would be fought out of the beds of pickup trucks and blandly anonymous hotel rooms near airports and mountain caves near nothing at all; it would be waged on train platforms and cruise ships, in malls and movie theat ~ Justin Cronin

I am very thankful that man took one look at me showing with a baby coming along, with my hair falling down, and the broom lying at a mound of broken glass, and supper boiling over on the stove, April wearing a dirty pinafore screaming for me to hold her, and just then the baby in my arms spit up all over me, and he said, You know ... I'd be kindly obliged if you'd let me have supper some other time. ~ Nancy E. Turner

What you'll learn, Simon, is that people do not want to know the truth. You might think you are doing them a great favour to bring it to them. But even if you put it right on their doorstep, nobody will thank you for it. They'll throw it away. Throw it in your face. Most people prefer to forget. ~ Anna Smaill

Give me bullet power. Give me power over angels. Even when you're standing up
you look like you're lying down, but will you let me kiss your neck, baby? Do I have to
tie your arms down?
Do I have to stick my tongue in your mouth like the hand of a thief, like a burglary
like it's just another petty theft? It makes me tired, Henry. Do you see what I mean?
Do you see what I'm getting at?
You swallowing matches and suddenly I'm yelling Strike me. Strike anywhere.
I swear, I end up feeling empty, like you've taken something out of me, and I have to search
my body for the scars, thinking
Did he find that one last tender place to sink his teeth in? I know you want me to say it, Henry,
it's in the script, you want me to say Lie down on the bed, you're all I ever wanted
and worth dying for too
but I think I'd rather keep the bullet this time. It's mine, you can't have it, see,
I'm not giving it up. This way you still owe me, and that's
as good as anything. ~ Richard Siken

I think we will have a boy baby and he will be born on the 20th of August. Everyone else has a girl baby and at times I don't believe I should mind having a little Phyllis Dawn but Dearest wants a boy and I do. ~ Dawn Powell

When abandoned babies were left out on the streets and back alleys, the Christians in North Africa organized baby runs and brought these babies to nursing mothers. The pagans were overwhelmed with the caring attitude of the Christians. Just as Peter predicted, unbelievers were led to faith in Christ and "glorified God" in the day of visitation. The excellencies of Christ are best revealed through the lives of those who are compassionate because they themselves are profoundly aware of their own shortcomings. The world can out entertain us; outnumber us; out finance us, but let it never be said that they can out-love us, for "God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us" (Romans 5:5). ~ Erwin W. Lutzer

She studies the endless rows of titles on the bookshelf, then whirls toward me. "Okay. Admit it."

"Admit what?"

She points an accusing finger at me. "You're smart."

I snort loudly. "Of course I'm smart."

"You sure as hell don't act like it." Allie crosses her arms over the front of her loose striped sweater. "In fact, I feel like you go out of your way to make everyone believe you're a dummy. With your 'baby dolls' and foul language and the way you throw 'ain't' into a sentence every so often."

I flash her a grin. "Nope, that's just how I fucking talk, baby doll. Ain't nothing wrong with that. ~ Elle Kennedy