Binetti Chair Quotes

I sit back in my chair, staring at the wall just behind him, mentally tallying up the minutes I've lost today.
"Leave the coffee."
"I-yes, of course, sorry, sir-. ~ Tahereh Mafi

My mother said the bizarre name Raccoona had surely been inspired, at least on a subliminal level, by the masks raccoons don't wear but simply have - the ones given them by nature ... [S]he pointed out that Le Guin had suspected all along that Raccoona and Tiptree were two authors that came from the same source, but in a letter to Alice she wrote that she preferred Tiptree to Raccoona: 'Raccoona, I think, has less control, thus less wit and power.'
Le Guin, Mother said, had understood something deep. 'When you take on a male persona, something happens.'
When I asked her what that was, she sat back in her chair, waved her arm, and smiled. 'You get to be the father. ~ Siri Hustvedt

Settle into mystery as you would settle into your most comfortable chair. Listen. Have visions. Lose yourself. ~ Eric Maisel

The Stars.
Jared slept beneath them, uneasy in the rustling leaves.
From the battlements Finn gazed up at them, seeing the impossible distances between galaxies and nebulae, and thinking they were not as wide as the distances between people.
In the study Claudia sensed them, in the sparks and crackles on the screen.
In the prison, Attia dreamt of them, She sat curled on the hard chair, Rix repacking his hidden pockets obsessively with coins and glass discs and hidden handkerchiefs.
A single spark flickered deep in the coin Keiro spun and caught, spun and caught. ~ Catherine Fisher

What became clear as I sat on my plastic chair and drank my instant coffee was that I had somehow found myself on the other side. I had crossed a bridge. Their struggle was no longer my struggle. It wasn't that I would ever stop grieving for Will, or loving him, or missing him, but that my life seemed to have somehow landed back in the present. ~ Jojo Moyes

Today is one of the days when Ma is Gone.
She won't wake up properly. She's here but not really. She stays in Bed with the pillows on her head.
Silly Penis is standing up, I squish him down.
I eat my hundred cereal and I stand on my chair to wash the bowl and Meltedy Spoon. It's very quiet when I switch off the water. I wonder did Old Nick come in the night. I don't think he did because the trash bag is still by Door, but maybe he did only he didn't take the trash? Maybe Ma's not just Gone. Maybe he squished her neck even harder and now she's -
I go up really close and listen till I hear breath. I'm just one inch away, my hair touches Ma's nose and she puts her hand up over her face so I step back.
I don't have a bath on my own, I just get dressed.
There's hours and hours, hundreds of them.
Ma gets up to pee but not talking, with her face all blank. I already put a glass of water beside Bed but she just gets back under Duvet. ~ Emma Donoghue

I wondered if he'd appreciate my help: maybe if I attacked her with a pool chair and beat her into putty, she'd be distracted enough to leave him alone. ~ Jane Harvey-Berrick

He hadn't "abused" alcohol, but had spent almost four years sitting in a chair drinking jug wine around the clock and looking, variously, at the wall, the window blind, and the TV screen. ~ Gilbert Sorrentino

This ain't over yet." Fourteen Captain Tripp was at his desk when the sun came up. He firmly believed that if you got up before the criminals, it was that much easier to stay one step ahead of them. He picked up the phone and left a terse message for Lt. Hayward. Twenty minutes later, Phil Hayward was at his office door. "You want to see me?" "Come in," Tripp said. "Close the door." Lt. Hayward closed the door and sat in Tripp's only guest chair. He waited for Tripp to put down his pen and address him. Eventually, Tripp looked up and regarded Hayward over his reading ~ T.A. Clark

I had so looked forward to her walking." Maud carried her thirteen-month-old sister a few steps away and put her down on her feet. "Walk to Daddy," Maud said, and the baby threw out her arms and took the few steps across the space to her father's chair. ~ Katherine Paterson

I keep my enemies close/ I give 'em enough rope/ They put themselves in the air/ I just kick away the chair. ~ Jay-Z

A week later, I walked to Gwyneth's house. She and Dorothy and I shared tea and we wept for Jacob. We talked. We smiled a little. Then I left and waited for Cullah, and thought what a great emptiness was left by Jacob's passing. At last, I sat at the front door, on the chair where Patience had died. I held my hands folded at my heart, and ached for all who had passed from my world ~ Nancy E. Turner

Sit your ass down in that chair and drink your goddamn tea ~ Cid_

Maggie Louise sat in a hardback chair, holding her baby brother, Squinchy, and her eyes fell upon Agee. There was something about the eyes of Maggie Louise that caught him the first time they met. They were 'temperature less, keen, serene, and wise and pure gray eyes,' Agee said, and they seemed to look everywhere and see into things. To look into the eyes of Maggie Louise was 'scary as hell, and even more mysterious than frightening,' said Agee. She knew she'd like him and he her. ~ Dale Maharidge

Our Victrola stood in the diningroom. I was allowed to climb onto the seat of a diningroom chair to wind it, start the record turning, and set the needle playing. In a second I'd jumped to the floor, to spin or march around the room as the music called for - now there were all the other records I could play too. I skinned back onto the chair just in time to lift the needle at the end, stop the record and turn it over, then change the needle. Winding up, dancing, being cocked to start and stop the record, was of course, all in one the act of listening. Movement must be at the very heart of listening. ~ Eudora Welty

With Nicky's form of EB, once an area gets over-wounded it never gets strong again. Some areas do not even heal ever again. These areas now included his feet. Even when they did heal, they were so incredibly fragile that even a simple step or a little pressure to get himself off the computer chair to the bed would cause a blister the size of my fist. ~ Silvia Corradin

They taught him how to milk cows and now they expected him to tame lions. Perhaps they expected him to behave like all good lion tamers. Use a whip and a chair. But what happens to the best lion tamer when he puts down his whip and his chair.
Goddamnit! It was wrong. He felt cheated, he felt almost violated. He felt cheated for himself, and he felt cheated for guys like Joshua Edwards who wanted to teach and who didn't know how to teach because he'd been pumped full of manure and theoretical hogwash. Why hadn't anyone told them, in plain, frank English, just what to do? Couldn't someone, somewhere along the line, have told them? Not one single college instructor? Not someone from the board of Ed, someone to orientate them after they'd passed the emergency exam? Not anyone? Now one sonofabitch somewhere who gave a good goddamn? Not even Stanley? Not even Small? Did they have to figure it out for themselves, sink and swim, kill or be killed?
Rick had never been told how to stop in his class. He'd never been told what to do with a second term student who doesn't even know how to write down his own goddamn name on a sheet of paper. He didn't know, he'd never been advised on the proper tactics for dealing with a boy whose I.Q. was 66, a big, fat, round, moronic 66. He hadn't been taught about kids' yelling out in class, not one kid, not the occasional "difficult child" the ed courses had loftily philosophized about, not him. But a whole goddamn, shouting, screaming class ~ Evan Hunter

What would you do if Ree became gravely ill?" Father Johnson asked Marlboro Man.
"Well, sir," Marlboro Man replied, "I'd take care of her."
"Who's going to do the cooking in your household?"
Marlboro Man smiled. "Ree's a great cook," he answered. I sat up proudly in my chair, trying not to remember the Linguine with Clam Sauce and the Marinated Flank Steak and whatever other well-intentioned meals I'd massacred early in our relationship.
"What about the dishes?" Father Johnson continued, channeling Gloria Steinem. "See yourself helping out there?"
Marlboro Man scratched his chin and paused. "Sure," he said. "Honestly, these aren't really things we've sat down and talked about." His voice was kind. Polite.
I wanted to crawl in a hole. I wanted to have my gums scraped. I wanted to go fight that huge prairie fire from a while back. Anything would be better than this.
"Have you talked about how many children you'd like to have?"
"Yes, sir," Marlboro Man said.
"And?" Father Johnson prodded.
"I'd like to have six or so," Marlboro Man answered, a virile smile spreading across his face.
"And what about Ree?" Father Johnson asked.
"Well, she says she'd like to have one," Marlboro Man said, looking at me and touching my knee. "But I'm workin' on her. ~ Ree Drummond

The physical body is assembled just like a chair or a building or a flower, but the revolutions we start, the people we affect and inspire, that is eternal. So, in that respect, we do achieve immortality, and that makes me less fearful. ~ Madonna Ciccone

Dr. Simpson showed Sara to a chair and then went to a window where she handed a test tube filled with Sara's blood to a nurse. "Take this to the lab. Have them run a beta HCG stat." "Yes, Doctor." "A beta HCG?" Sara asked. "Fancy talk for a pregnancy test," Carol Simpson explained. "Doctors like to use code words no one else understands. Makes us sound more intelligent, don't you think?" Sara ~ Harlan Coben

I had some years of definite frustration. Auditioning and not working as much as I would have liked to, or working and being paid a pittance, and sort of scrounging by in New York and sleeping on a chair that folded out into a bed. ~ Gillian Jacobs

Real estate is the best investment on earth, however, when the music stops playing, which happens occasionally, don't be the one left without a chair. ~ Steven Ivy Attorney Entrepreneur

With a kind of perverse obstinancy his father refused to take off his official uniform even in the house; and while his robe hung uselessly on the clothes hook, his father dozed, completely dressed, in his chair, as if he were always ready for duty and were waiting even here for the voice of his superior. ~ Franz Kafka

How do you feel about a little bait and switch?"
Kelly licked his lips, then grinned slowly. "Sounds about as fun as you bending me over one of those interrogation desks."
Nick groaned and pushed his chair back so they were no longer in contact. "Don't fucking tempt me, okay? Those rooms have video feeds."
"Really? Do they record?"
Nick had to get up and walk away as Kelly laughed merrily at his desk. "You're killing me, Kels," he called over his shoulder. "Killing me! ~ Abigail Roux

I don't tell people things like that unless they buy me dinner first." The drawl sounded deep Cajun. The drawn-out words and the lilting, easy roll of his voice made Prophet want to throw a chair at him, mainly because it had always been an accent he'd found irresistible. On anyone but this guy. Okay, ~ S.E. Jakes

A thousand charming words string together in his head in a nanosecond, but he averted his eyes to his empty notebook. Notes? Who really took notes in class? Dawson wanted to see if she would talk to him first.
God, he was like a teenage girl. He was so screwed.
Bethany slid around in her chair, pulling one leg up against her chest. She twirled a pen in her right hand. "Hey, Dawson."
She. Spoke. To. Him. First. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

It was a relief to see his father, who'd always been an unfailing source of reassurance and comfort. They clasped hands in a firm shake, and used their free arms to pull close for a moment. Such demonstrations of affection weren't common among fathers and sons of their rank, but then, they'd never been a conventional family.
After a few hearty thumps on the back, Sebastian drew back and glanced over him with the attentive concern that hearkened to Gabriel's earliest memories. Not missing the traces of weariness on his face, his father lightly tousled his hair the way he had when he was a boy. "You haven't been sleeping."
"I went carousing with friends for most of last night," Gabriel admitted. "It ended when we were all too drunk to see a hole through a ladder."
Sebastian grinned and removed his coat, tossing the exquisitely tailored garment to a nearby chair. "Reveling in the waning days of bachelorhood, are we?"
"It would be more accurate to say I'm thrashing like a drowning rat."
"Same thing." Sebastian unfastened his cuffs and began to roll up his shirtsleeves. An active life at Heron's Point, the family estate in Sussex, had kept him as fit and limber as a man half his age. Frequent exposure to the sunlight had gilded his hair and darkened his complexion, making his pale blue eyes startling in their brightness.
While other men of his generation had become staid and settled, the duke was more vigorous than ever, in part because his youngest s ~ Lisa Kleypas

Boy, you don't know when the hell to shut up!" Lance sat back miserably, staring up at Asher, every bit of piss and vinegar gone. "Listen up, Lance. This is the last time I'll talk nice to you before I make your face look like a copy of mine. You're not filing anything. Not against me. Not against her. If you ever dare to bother Savannah again, I will find Serena Shepherd, and I will pay whatever it takes to bring her back to Danvers and have her corroborate every word Savannah Carmichael says about you. So unless you want to be known as the county rapist and be taking it up the ass in lockup for the next decade, you will leave this alone and you will never go near Savannah Carmichael again. You hear me, you goddamned rapist?" "I hear you. I hear," Lance mumbled, slumping back in his chair, utterly defeated. ~ Katy Regnery

I hit you. Won't that make you go away? What else can I do?" he snarled. He'd fallen back on his old standby, anger.
"I'm not going away, Cole, so maybe we can cut out the assaults in the future. You don't want me to go away. I know that. You love me, Cole. That's the feeling that makes you so angry." She'd sighed and looked at the ceiling. "You don't know what to do with it, because the people you've loved in the past caused you pain. That's what you think love is. Pain."
She'd looked at his face until he met her eyes. They were still green.
"But, Cole, I love you. Have I hurt you? Ever?"
Cole had to shake his head. She hadn't. Not once.
"I'm showing you what to do with love, Cole." She stood and held out her arms.
A hug. A simple hug he didn't have to earn by throwing a chair. Human contact that wasn't required because he was trying to hurt someone. She still trusted him. She still saw something in him. ~ Debra Anastasia

It was unaccountable not to be obliged to go out to see her, not to have any occasion to be tormenting myself about her, not to have to write to her, not to be scheming and devising opportunities of being alone with her. Sometimes, of an evening, when I looked up from my writing, and saw her seated opposite, I would lean back in my chair, and think how queer it was that there we were, alone together as a matter of course - nobody's business any more - all the romance of our engagement put away on a shelf, to rust - no one to please but one another - one another to please, for life. ~ Charles Dickens

There were two chairs, but there were three of us. So, being the gentleman I am, I got down on the ground on all fours in my chair pose so that then there were three chairs and three of us - with one extra seat to spare. I make love the same way - with more orgasms than people involved. ~ Jarod Kintz

Abbey," Sarah said, "life is to be lived. If you're living, you're going to stumble along the way."
"All the time?" Abigail lept to her feet and began to pace. "I have such a bad temper and when I was in my teens, I wasn't above using my gift for revenge. None of you did that."
Joley slowly raised her hand, sliding down in the chair as she did so. Hannah followed suit, though she didn't look in the least remorseful. Sarah shrugged her shoulders and raised her hand and glared at Elle, who just grinned sheepishly and put up a couple of fingers. Carol tossed her head and waved her arm with gusto. ~ Christine Feehan

The kid who throws his spaghetti from the high chair onto his father's face, he's pushing back. He's sticking it to the man as he sees it. I like that. So that is punk. ~ Henry Rollins