Bucherer Pocket Quotes

The grandmothers decided on William's eighth birthday that the time had come for the boy to learn the value of money. With this in mind, they allocated him one dollar a week as pocket money, but insisted that he keep an inventory accounting for every cent he spent. Grandmother Kane presented him with a green leather-bound ledger, at a cost of 95 cents, which she deducted from his first week's allowance. From then on the grandmothers divided the dollar up every Saturday morning. William could invest 50 cents, spend 20 cents, give 10 cents to charity and keep 20 cents in reserve. At the end of each quarter they would inspect the ledger and his written report on any unusual transactions. ~ Jeffrey Archer

I think the time is ripe for a return to the refinement of lifestyle that the pocket watch embodies. A personal pleasure that you know you have in your pocket, which requires an elegant gesture to use and show to others. ~ Richard Mille

Exactly. We know that the great Goethe carried a copy of Spinoza's Ethics in his pocket for a year. Imagine that - an entire year! And not only Goethe but many other great Germans. Lessing and Heine reported a clarity and calmness that came from reading this book. Who knows, there may come a time in your life when you, too, will need the calmness and clarity that Spinoza's Ethics offers. I shan't ask you to read that book now. You're too young to grasp its meaning. But I want you to promise that before your twenty-first birthday you will read it. Or perhaps I should say, read it by the time you're fully grown. Do I have your word as a good German? ~ Irvin D. Yalom

The chocolates are shaped like mice, with almond ears and licorice tails. He eats two immediately and puts the rest of the bag in the pocket of his coat, hoping they will not melt. He ~ Erin Morgenstern

Desire to answer the incessant ring of the cell phone he'd ignored since yesterday. Rather than turning it off, he'd muffled the noise by burying the device deep within a coat pocket, maintaining the connection to his life like a distant beacon. Despite the oppressive heat, he paused at the bottom stair of his old brownstone. There was nothing spectacular about it, outside of its location near the upbeat Newbury Street. If he remembered ~ Ruth Cardello

[Mulder] slowed as he approached the front walk, slipping his left hand into his pocket to wrap around his gun. Front or back? Wait for Scully, or do the stupid thing and go in on his own?
He had no realistic alternative. ~ Charles Grant

When a body succeeds in emitting or in reflecting luminous vibrations in a distinct and recognizable order--I thought--what does it do with these vibrations? Put them in its pocket? No, it releases them on the first passer-by. And how will the latter behave in the face of vibrations he can't utilize and which, taken in this way, might even be annoying? Hide his head in a hole? No, he'll thrust it out in that direction until the point most exposed to the optic vibrations becomes sensitized and develops the mechanism for exploiting them in the form of images. In short, I conceived of the eye-encephalon link as a kind of tunnel dug from the outside by the force of what was ready to become image, rather than from within by the intention of picking up any old image. ~ Italo Calvino

I spoke softly. "The cops will eat you alive, Benjamin Blue. You have to go."
Ben tensed, ready to argue.
"Detective Hawfield died. This is going to get serious. It's way too much heat for you. Please be sensible."
Ben hesitated. Then his shoulders slumped.
"Maybe you're right." Deep breath. "But you're taking away the other possibility, too."
"I don't understand." I glanced over my shoulder at the approaching vehicle. "What other possibility?"
He smiled wanly. "Ben Blue, The Hero. That kinda would've been nice."
I paused, at a loss for words. My heart broke for him.
"But that's okay." Ben dug keys from his pocket. "After all, we're Virals, not heroes. And that's fine. Plus, I'm not really the hero type."
He turned to leave.
Impulsively, I grabbed Ben's arm. Pulled him close.
Smashed my lips against his.
The kiss only lasted a second, but also an eternity.
Then I stepped back and shoved Ben toward the Explorer.
"Of course you're the type." I was grateful the darkness hid my blushes. "Now go."
Ben stared, stricken, thunderstruck. Hi and Shelton watched, wide-eyed with shock.
"Weirdest birthday ever," Hi whispered. ~ Kathy Reichs

If you're being smothered from someone on top of you, you've got to move, if you can't move, you better pray, and then find a pocket of air (this pocket of air will be hot and humid and almost not worth breathing, but it's all you got). ~ Mark Johnson

Outside the walls of the Crimson Cabaret was a world of rain and darkness. At intervals, whenever someone entered or exited through the front door of the club, one could actually see the steady rain and was allowed a brief glimpse of the darkness. Inside it was all amber light, tobacco smoke, and the sound of the raindrops hitting the windows, which were all painted black. On such nights, as I sat at one of the tables in that drab little place, I was always filled with an infernal merriment, as if I were waiting out the apocalypse and could not care less about it. I also liked to imagine that I was in the cabin of an old ship during a really vicious storm at sea or in the club car of a luxury passenger train that was being rocked on its rails by ferocious winds and hammered by a demonic rain. Sometimes, when I was sitting in the Crimson Cabaret on a rainy night, I thought of myself as occupying a waiting room for the abyss (which of course was exactly what I was doing) and between sips from my glass of wine or cup of coffee I smiled sadly and touched the front pocket of my coat where I kept my imaginary ticket to oblivion. ~ Thomas Ligotti

Towards that small and ghostly hour, [Mr. Cruncher] rose up from his chair, took a key out of his pocket, opened a locked cupboard, and brought forth a sack, a crowbar of convenient size, a rope and chain, and other fishing tackle of that nature. ~ Charles Dickens

Five thousand dollars? For a kiss?"

"That's what I said."

"With tongue?"

"It's not really a kiss without it.
Just say yes, pet. You obviously need the money."

I gasp before I can stop myself. I didn't think five words from a stranger could hurt so much. What a dick.

"For fuck's sake, Nicholas," Simon says.

But he just looks at me, waiting, those arrogant green eyes alight with anticipation. So I give him what he's waiting for.

"Hands under the table," I order.

He smiles wider, puts his flask in his pocket, and does what he's told.

"Close your eyes."

"I like a woman who's not afraid to take charge."

"No more talking." He's said more than enough.

I lean in, keeping my eyes open the whole time, memorizing every angle of that face, feeling his warm breath against my cheek. This close, I can see the shadow of stubble on his chin and for just a second, I let myself wonder what it would feel like scratching against my stomach, my thighs - everywhere.

Then in one move, I pick up his plate - and smash the apple pie in his stupid, handsome face.

"Kiss this, asshole. ~ Emma Chase

For luck you carried a horse chestnut and a rabbit's foot in your right pocket. The fur had been worn off the rabbit's foot long ago and the bones and the sinews were polished by the wear. The claws scratched in the lining of your pocket and you knew your luck was still there. ~ Ernest Hemingway,

There's nothing like a bunch of catty teenagers who could either kick your ass halfway across the country or set you on fire with a mere thought. That alone changed who people picked fights with or became friends with. And at the end of the day, it was always good to have a firestarter in your back pocket. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

I feel like any single woman of color who's been onstage has a Shakespeare monologue in her back pocket, and a monologue from 'For Colored Girls.' It's just part of what you should have, as a woman of color. ~ Kerry Washington

Do not confuse surrender with an attitude of "I can't be bothered anymore" or "I just don't care anymore." If you look at it closely, you will find that such an attitude is tainted with negativity in the form of hidden resentment and so is not surrender at all but masked resistance. As you surrender, direct your attention inward to check if there is any trace of resistance left inside you. Be very alert when you do so; otherwise, a pocket of resistance may continue to hide in some dark corner in the form of a thought or an unacknowledged emotion. ~ Eckhart Tolle

Nothing makes a man so adventurous as an empty pocket. ~ Victor Hugo

You really do have some pretty fancy words lately."
"Yeah." He put the mistletoe in his pocket and pulled her in closer. "And here's three more ... I love you. ~ Jill Shalvis

Very well, but - who are you?' again asked Gil Gil, in whom curiosity was beginning to get the better of every other feeling.

'I told you that when I first spoke to you - I am your friend. And bear in mind that you are the only being on the face of the earth to whom I accord the title of friend. I am bound to you by remorse! I am the cause of all your misfortunes.'

'I do not know you,' replied the shoemaker.

'And yet I have entered your house many times! Through me you were left motherless at your birth; I was the cause of the apoplectic stroke that killed Juan Gil; it was I who turned you out of the palace of Rionuevo; I assassinated your old house-mate, and, finally, it was I who placed in your pocket the vial of sulfuric acid.'

Gil Gil trembled like a leaf; he felt his hair stand on end, and it seemed to him as if his contracted muscles must burst asunder.

'You are the devil!' he exclaimed, with indescribable terror.

'Child!' responded the black-robed figure in accents of amiable censure, 'what has put that idea into your head? I am something greater and better than the wretched being you have named.'

'Who are you, then?'

'Let us go into the inn and you shall learn.'

Gil hastily entered, drew the Unknown before the modest lantern that lighted the apartment, and looked at him with intense curiosity.

He was a person about thirty-three years old; tall, handsome, pale ~ Pedro Antonio De Alarcón

Sometimes this happens without warning. Like the magnitude of the past - of all that has happened - creeps into the space and inflates. One minute it's this little thing - contained, pocket-size - the next minute it's a creature. With legs and arms and scales. That's how grief works. It's there even when you forget about it. It doesn't disappear, but just morphs, changes form. ~ Rebecca Serle

Whatever had made the Dean take such a fancy to him, a cowardly, selfish, obstinate, ugly old fellow like him? He would never understand it. He took the piece of paper out of his pocket and looked at that too. Faith in God. God. A word he had always refused. But the Dean had said, put the word love in its place. ~ Elizabeth Goudge

When confronted by a 'believer' it is easy for me to contrast the views of the skeptic with those of the rationalist. I simply reach into my pocket and pull out my change.

Holding a quarter aloft, I say, 'This is a most remarkable coin, for it is heavier than all the sins of humanity committed since the beginning of the human race.'

I then hold up a nickel and say, 'This coin is even more amazing, as it is brighter and shinier than the flames that proceeded from the Burning Bush discovered on Mt. Sinai by Moses.'

Then I raise a penny and state, 'This portrait of President Lincoln is more realistic and true-to-life than any portrait of Satan ever painted.'

And finally, I hold out a bright, shiny dime and say, 'And this dime is the most amazing of all because it is heavier and contains more precious metals than all the gold bricks in the streets of Heaven.'

I end with 'Give to Caesar what is his, and hold the rest of it dear - for it is all you see and touch - and the Christian god can take care of all his things, for they amount to less than this 41 cents I hold here in my hand. ~ E. Haldeman-Julius

The power of a successful salesman is not putting his hand in the customer's pocket to pull his money out. but rather manipulate the customer's mind to let him put his hand and happily pull the money and give it to you ~ Hisham Fawzi

Some people read off of their Palms and Pocket PCs, but the real immersible reading experience takes a full-screen device. ~ Bill Gates

Some people that work for Hot Pockets came to my Denver Paramount Theater show. They brought these hot pocket boxes the size of suit cases for me to sign. I wrote "these are WMD's" on the boxes. The HP people seem to have a good sense of humor about all of it. ~ Jim Gaffigan

Always preoccupied with his profound researches, the great Newton showed in the ordinary-affairs of life an absence of mind which has become proverbial. It is related that one day, wishing to find the number of seconds necessary for the boiling of an egg, he perceived, after waiting a minute, that he held the egg in his hand, and had placed his seconds watch (an instrument of great value on account of its mathematical precision) to boil!
This absence of mind reminds one of the mathematician Ampere, who one day, as he was going to his course of lectures, noticed a little pebble on the road; he picked it up, and examined with admiration the mottled veins. All at once the lecture which he ought to be attending to returned to his mind; he drew out his watch; perceiving that the hour approached, he hastily doubled his pace, carefully placed the pebble in his pocket, and threw his watch over the parapet of the Pont des Arts. ~ Camille Flammarion

She'd told me an Empress could fashion wood into whatever shapes she liked; in my pocket was a wedding ring for Aric that I'd painstakingly crafted.

I'd figured the band would need to be as resilient as metal, so I'd chosen one of the strongest trees in the world: lignum vitae. Latin for wood of life. ~ Kresley Cole

"Alright, who's first?" Crystal asked once Carrie was in the chair that she had instructed her to sit in.
Everyone was quiet.
"Who wants to draw straws?" Matt asked. Carrie hadn't realized until this moment that the subtle smile on his face never faded. It was as though he found humor in everything that was going on.
Will slowly raised his hand, his other hand was left shoved in the pocket of his blue jeans, "I'll do it." ~ Julia Barkey

That's when they decided there was only one way to stop me, I suppose, and they went for Gran."
"They what?" said Harry, Ron, and Hermione together.
"Yeah," said Neville, panting a little now, because the passage was climbing so steeply, "well, you can see their thinking. It had worked really well, kidnapping kids to force their relatives to behave, I s'pose it was only a matter of time before they did it the other way around. Thing was," he faced them, and Harry was astonished to see that he was grinning, "they bit off a bit more than they could chew with Gran. Little old witch living alone, they probably thought they didn't need to send anyone particularly powerful. Anyway," Neville laughed, "Dawlish is still in St. Mungo's and Gran's on the run. She sent me a letter," he clapped a hand to the breast pocket of his robes, "telling me she was proud of me, that I'm my parents' son, and to keep it up."
"Cool," said Ron.
"Yeah," said Neville happily. "Only thing was, once they realized they had no hold over me, they decided Hogwarts could do without me after all. I don't know whether they were planning to kill me or send me to Azkaban; either way, I knew it was time to disappear."
"But," said Ron, looking thoroughly confused, "aren't--aren't we heading straight back into Hogwarts? ~ J.K. Rowling

The iPhone is not and never was a phone. It is a pocket-sized computer that obviates the phone. The iPhone is to cell phones what the Mac was to typewriters. ~ John Gruber

Now, personally, I'm not fond of huge snakes, especially ones with human heads and stupid hats. If I'd summoned this thing, I would've cast a spell to send it back, super quick. But Setne just rolled up his scroll, slipped it in his jacket pocket, and grinned. "Awesome!" The cobra lady hissed. "Who dares summon me? I am Wadjet, queen of cobras, protector of Lower Egypt, eternal mistress of - " "I know!" Setne clapped his hands. "I'm a huge fan!" I ~ Rick Riordan

Gnan is that which does not let kashays arise when one's pocket is picked. ~ Dada Bhagwan

Please - it would be my pleasure." And I believed him that it would. I nodded dumbly. If the paintings along the halls were exquisite, then the ones selected for the gallery had to be beyond my human imaginings. "I would like that - very much." He smiled at me still, broadly and without restraint or hesitation. Isaac had never smiled at me like that. Isaac had never made my breath catch, just a little bit. The feeling was startling enough that I walked out, grasping the crumpled paper in my pocket as if doing so could somehow keep that answering smile from tugging on my lips. ~ Sarah J. Maas

After the Ed Sullivan Show, Feb. 9, 1964, at approx. 8:04pm [laughs], after that moment every album, every guitar, evey set of drums that was ever sold ... 10% should have gone right into their pocket! ~ George Thorogood

Wes knocks a couple of times, but Adam doesn't answer. "Jackpot," he says, kneeling down to examine the lock. He takes the bundle of wire from his pocket and proceeds to make a key of sorts.
"You're not going to break in?" I ask.
"Well, um, yeah. Kimmie rolls her eyes, as if the answer's completely obvious.
Wes sticks his key into the lock and starts to jiggle it back and forth. A moment later, the doorknob turns.
Only, Wes isn't the one turning it.
Piper then whips the door open. "Oh, my god," she says, smacking her chest like we've scared her, too.
"We were looking for Adam." I peek past her into the apartment.
"He isn't here," she says, glaring up at Wes, no doubt annoyed that he's attempting to pick the lock.
"Would you believe that I dropped the contact?" he asks, before finally getting up.
"Not likely, since you're wearing glasses."
Kimmie bops him on the head with her Tupperware purse. ~ Laurie Faria Stolarz

Let's sum up: an unknown number of enemies with unknown capabilities, supported by a gang of madmen, packs of attack animals, and superhumanly intelligent pocket change. ~ Jim Butcher

As for this," Magnus said sliding the stele into Jace's jeans pocket, "keep it in your pants, Shadowhunter." - 219 ~ Cassandra Clare

I don't trust a man who talks about ethics when he is picking my pocket. But if he is acting in his own self-interest and says so, I have usually been able to work out some way to do business with him. ~ Robert A. Heinlein

She is often the broken-winged one, who does everything all wrong until people realize she's been doing it ... pretty right all along. She's the poor girl who never dressed right, who had torn hose, and they were all baggy around her ankles. She's the Raggedy Ann of the sophisticated world, who pulls it out at the last minute, flies by the seat of her pants, cackling all the way home. She is the late bloomer, the late start, the autumn bush, the winter holly. She is Baubo, all the classical Greek goddesses. She is the old girl who still blushes, and laughs, and dances. She's the truth teller, maybe that people hate to hear, but they learn to listen to. She is not dumb and in some ways is not shrewd. She works on passion, and the doll in her pocket, and the intuition that leads her into and through all the world. ~ Clarissa Pinkola Estes

Amy: So. Are you proposing to someone? The Doctor: Sorry? Amy: I found this in your pocket. The Doctor: No. No no. That's a memory. Friend of mine. Someone I lost. Would you ... mind. Amy: It's weird. I feel ... I dunno, something. The Doctor: People fall out of the world sometimes but they always leave traces. Little things we can't quite account for. Faces in photographs. Luggage. Half-eaten meals. Rings. Nothing is ever forgotten, not completely. And if something can be remembered it can come back. ~ Steven Moffat

Whatcha got there?" I asked, looking at the crumpled piece of paper in his hands. As we walked through the quiet halls, he folded it into a small square and tucked it into his back pocket. He turned to look at me, and then his grin grew wider. "It's an article." "About what?" "Nothing special. Just a Mandy Parker original." "It's ~ Tracie Puckett

Every guy looks in his pocket and then votes. ~ Will Rogers

I realized something tonight when you were in the arena doing your thing."
She took another deep breath of the roses' scent. "What was it?"
"I love you, Elle."
Her eyes flared wide to search his and her heart stopped.
"Do you love me?"
"Yes, I love you, Chase."
Simple, sure, an indisputable fact she couldn't've held on her tongue if she'd wanted to. But was she ready to love somebody who loved her back?
Was she?
"You had me since Spin Master," he said, with that grin she loved. "But I didn't know it 'til tonight."
"Oh, well, then, I get it," she said, smiling back. "You only loved me 'cause I saved your life."
"I want you to save it again."
He stood up to pull something out of the front pocket of his starched jeans. He reached for her hand.
"I'm asking you to marry me, Elle. Will you?"
Tears blurred her vision. They caught in her throat. Oh, God, how could she ever be a wife again? But how could she ever leave Chase?
She tried to buy herself a little time to think. "You said you don't trust women."
"Only you. I trust you. I trusted you with my life the first time I ever saw you."
That made her grin. And then she felt very solemn. He was looking right into her soul, holding her hand in his big calloused one. She clung to it.
"You're in a league of your own, Elle. Not just was a bull-fighter, but in every way."
She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to think. She knew she loved ~ Genell Dellin

He reached into his jacket pocket. Over the years, people had often commented on his ability to produce exactly the right item from his pockets at exactly the right time. Some had speculated that his pockets were extensions of the TARDIS, others had guessed he was just lucky. But then, they'd never read Yeltstrom's Karma and Flares: The Importance of Fashion Sense to the Modern Zen Master.
They didn't appreciate the things a sentient life-form could achieve, if he was totally at one with the lining of his jacket. ~ Lawrence Miles

Another struggle has been the struggle to keep the value of a local and particular character, of a particular culture in this awful maelstrom, this awful avalanche toward uniformity. The whole fight is for the conservation of the individual soul. The enemy is the supression of history; against us is the bewildering propaganda and brainwash, luxury and violence. Sixty years ago, poetry was the poor man's art: a man off on the edge of the wilderness, or Frémont, going off with a Greek text in his pocket. A man who wanted the best could have it on a lonely farm. Then there was the cinema, and now television. ~ Ezra Pound

Between the innocence of boyhood and the dignity of manhood, we find a delightful creature called a boy ... A boy is truth with dirt on its face, beauty with a cut on its finger, wisdom with bubble gum in its hair and the hope of the future with a frog in its pocket. ~ Alan Beck

But what might be written in the book which had rounded its edges off in his pocket, she did not know. What he thought they none of them knew. But he was absorbed in it, so that when he looked up, as he did now for an instant, it was not to see anything; it was to pin down some thought more exactly. That done, his mind flew back again and he plunged into his reading. He read, she thought, as if he were guiding something, or wheedling a large flock of sheep, or pushing his way up and up a single narrow path; and sometimes he went fast and straight, and broke his way through the bramble, and sometimes it seemed a branch struck at him, a bramble blinded him, but he was not going to let himself be beaten by that; on he went, tossing over page after page. ~ Virginia Woolf

I'm all for you exploring new shit, but guys are dicks regardless of whether they wear a jock strap or a pocket protector." "That's a ringing endorsement of your gender. ~ Jen Frederick