Charges For Water Quotes

Be wary of the man who does not offer water, charges too much for water, asks for too much water, and the one who makes water his business. ~ Suzy Kassem

Suddenly every muscle in my body tensed as if standing up in greeting, even though I didn't move. "Barrons." I dropped my hands and raised my head.
"Ms. Lane." He took a chair across from me with such eerie grace that I wondered how I'd ever believed he was human. He poured himself into the brocade wing chair, like water over stone, before settling into sleek muscle. He moved as if he knew where everything in the room was, in precise measurements. He didn't walk, stalk, or prowl; he glided with flawless awareness of all other atoms in relation to his. It made it easy for him to conceal himself behind inanimate objects and to assume a similar . . . structure or something.
"Have you always moved like that in front of me and I just never noticed? Was I oblivious?"
"No and yes. You were oblivious. Head up that tight pink ass. But I never moved this way in front of you." His looked dripped sexual innuendo. "I might have moved this way a time or two behind you."
"Not hiding anything from me anymore?"
"I wouldn't go that far."
"What does someone like you conceal?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" His glittering eyes raked me with a hard once-over. ~ Karen Marie Moning

i am human
the lining of mucus still bargain
the vain i fear is like a miracle
ordinary people would always know about their heart
but as for me,, CLUELESS
nobody knows me well
nobody understands me
nobody would care
eventhough how much i put an effort into it
im helpless
till now
i didnt changed
i really dont
and how much my aunt would advice
its just like pouring water into the leaves
i dunt want it to be,
i want to accomplish as i want it to be like i always wanted
but i dun know why am i so cruel to myself
i didnt try at all
i let it go
to be like i dunt want it to be
i wont let it go
to be like i want it to be ~ Augelicht

Like sheep which, having been driven to a pasture, can now spread out at their leisure, the clouds began to drift. Afternoon sunlight sliced through into the still waters. The boomerang hung in the sky, and the boy thought he would have to find a new word for the way the colours glowed.
In the meantime, he looked down at the water and tried out the word he'd been taught by his grandfather, who'd been taught it by his grandfather, and which had been kept for thousands of years for when it would been needed.
It meant the smell after rain.
It had, he thought, been well worth waiting for. ~ Terry Pratchett

I will lay thy stones with fair colors (Isa. 54:11).

The stones from the wall said, "We come from the mountains far away, from the sides of the craggy hills. Fire and water have worked on us for ages, but made us only crags. Human hands have made us into a dwelling where the children of your immortal race are born, and suffer, and rejoice, and find rest and shelter, and learn the lessons set them by our Maker and yours. But we have passed through much to fit us for this. Gunpowder has rent our very heart; pickaxes have cleaved and broken us, it seemed to us often with out design or meaning, as we lay misshapen stones in the quarry; but gradually we were cut into blocks, and some of us were chiseled with finer instruments to a sharper edge. But we are complete now, and are in our places, and are of service.

"You are in the quarry still, and not complete, and therefore to you, as once to us, much is inexplicable. But you are destined for a higher building, and one day you will be placed in it by hands not human, a living stone in a heavenly temple."

In the still air the music lies unheard;In the rough marble beauty hides unseen;
To make the music and the beauty needs
The master's touch, the sculptor's chisel keen.
Great Master, touch us with Thy skillful hands;
Let not the music that is in us die!
Great Sculptor, hew and polish us; nor let,
Hidden and lost, thy form within us lie! ~ Mrs. Charles E. Cowman

In our daily lives we "know" things in many different ways. We know, for example, that water boils at 212 degrees Fahrenheit ~ Janet Buttolph Johnson

The Akielon march into the fort was the flow of a single red stream, except that whereas water swirled and swelled, it was straight and unyielding.
Their arms and legs were crudely bare, as if war was an act of flesh impacting on flesh. Their weapons were unadorned, as if they had brought only the essentials required for killing. Rows and rows of them, laid out with mathematical precision. The discipline of feet marching in unison was a display of power, and violence, and strength. ~ C.S. Pacat

Homer is a character in the Level pack for Lego Dimensions. He is a Wave 1 level pack character and is the first character who was confirmed as a help character ingame. Abilities Super Strength Big Transform Sonar Smash Bart Simpson (71211 Fun Pack) Bart is a character in the Fun pack for Lego Dimensions. He is one of the only characters that can't actually speak and one of his abilities is to point and confuse an enemy. Abilities Mini Access Target Krusty the Clown (71227 Fun Pack) Krusty the Clown is a character in the Fun pack for Lego Dimensions. He is one of only two characters who can grow plants to solve some puzzles ingame. Abilities Growth Water Spray Hazard Cleaner Portal ~ EpicGameGuides

Playing with your mind, that's what she's about." Carrick waved a hand, then tossed the little star that clung to his fingertips out over the water, where it trailed silver light. "Cooking you a meal, making everything, herself included, pretty for you. A more devious female I've never known. You're well shed of her. ~ Nora Roberts

Children get smashed for hours on some strictly limited aspect of the Great Big Everything, the Universe, such as water or snow or mud or colors or rocks. ~ Kurt Vonnegut

To regard all things and principles of things as inconstant modes or fashions has more and more become the tendency of modern thought. Let us begin with that which is without - our physical life. Fix upon it in one of its more exquisite intervals, the moment, for instance, of delicious recoil from the flood of water in summer heat. What is the whole physical life in that moment but a combination of natural elements to which science gives their names? But these elements, phosphorus and lime and delicate fibres, are present not in the human body alone: we detect them in places most remote from it. Our physical life is a perpetual motion of them - the passage of the blood, the wasting and repairing of the lenses of the eye, the modification of the tissues of the brain by every ray of light and sound - processes which science reduces to simpler and more elementary forces. Like the elements of which we are composed, the action of these forces extends beyond us; it rusts iron and ripens corn. Far out on every side of us those elements are broadcast, driven by many forces; and birth and gesture and death and the springing of violets from the grave are but a few out of ten thousand resultant combinations. That clear, perpetual outline of face and limb is but an image of ours, under which we group them - a design in a web, the actual threads of which pass out beyond it. This at least of flame-like our life has, that it is but the concurrence, renewed from moment to moment, of forces p ~ Walter Pater

He pulled me toward him so that I was resting on my side. I coughed up some more water. He took off his wet shirt and folded it. Then he gently lifted me and placed it under my sore head, which hurt too much to appreciate his…bronzed…sculpted…muscular…bare chest.
Well I guess I must be okay if I can appreciate the view, I thought. Sheesh, I'd have to be dead not to appreciate it.
I winced as Ren's hand brushed against my head, shaking me from my reverie.
"You've got a major bump here."
I reached up to feel the giant lump on the back of my skull. I gingerly touched it and recalled the source of my headache. I must have lost consciousness when the rock hit me. Ren saved my life. Again.
I looked up at him. He was kneeling next to me with a look of desperation on his face, and his body was shaking. I realized that he must have changed to a man, dragged me out of the pool, and then remained by my side until I woke up. Who knows how long I've been laying here unconscious.
"Ren, you're in pain. You've been in this form too long today."
He shook his head in denial, but I saw him grit his teeth.
I pressed my hand on his arm. "I'll be okay. It's just a bump on the head. Don't worry about me. I'm sure Mr. Kadam has some aspirin tucked away in the backpack. I'll just take that and lie down to rest for a while. I'll be alright."
He trailed his finger slowly from my temple to my cheek and smiled softly. When he pulled back, his whole arm shook a ~ Colleen Houck

creamy poppy seed and she loved the strawberry-spinach salad's crunchy sweetness. She enjoyed a few bites uninterrupted, grateful she could eat at all with Byron nearby. His knee rubbed against hers and the bite of spinach stuck in her throat. She swallowed then glanced up. Their gazes met and tangled, an entire conversation passed between them, almost without her permission. The earnestness and warmth of his look was a dagger through her abdomen. How could she still love him so much? She knew who he was, what he was. He wasn't future husband material and never would be. When he was eighty he'd still be smoking hot and still have women crawling all over him. The waitress came to request their drink orders. She nodded to Marissa's request of a lemon for her water and fawned all over Byron as he ordered lemonade. "She's ~ Cami Checketts

What is made of water and fire
for isn't that what a man whose nature opposes his responsibilities can be said to be? Does one quench the other, or do they combine to ignite the depths of the soul? ~ Alice Hoffman

I eat healthy and drink a lot of water. I eliminated most white sugar and dairy from my diet. It's done wonders for me not only in maintaining a healthy weight, but it's increased my energy levels and immunity. ~ Candace Cameron

Eres es la explosión de rosas en un cuarto oscuro.
O el sabor inesperado y dulce en el té que tomamos en Starbucks
You are the moon that gives midnight its meaning.
And the explanation of water for all living things.
You are my compass,
A sapphire,
A bookmark,
A rare coin,
Un trompo,
Un canica,
De mi juventud.
Eres miel y canela
chocolate y jamoncillo.
You are rare spices
lost from a boat
That was once sailed by Cortez.
Eres un rosa, prensado en un libro
un anillo de perla de herencia
y un frasco de perfume rojo
que se encuentran cerca de las orillas del Nilo.

You are an old soul from an ancient place,
A thousand years and centuries and milleniums ago.
And you have traveld all this way…
Just so that I could love you…
And,
I do. ~ Jose N Harris

here is one other element of the apocalyptic tradition to be considered, namely transition. I said a minute ago that one of the assumptions prevalent in sophisticated apocalyptism was what Yeats called 'antithetical multiform influx'--the forms assumed by the inrushing gyre as the old one reaches its term. The dialectic of Yeats's gyres is simple enough in essence; they are a figure for the co-existence of the past and future at the time of transition. The old narrows to its apex, the new broadens towards its base, and the old and new interpenetrate. Where apex and base come together you have an age of very rapid transition. Actually, on Yeats's view of the historical cycle, there were transient moments of perfection, or what he called Unity of Being; but there was no way of making these permanent, and his philosophy of history is throughout transitional. In this he is not, of course, original; but his emphasis on the traditional character of our own pre-apocalyptic moment, in contrast with those exquisite points of time when life was like the water brimming beautifully but unstably over the rim of a fountain, seems, for all the privacy of the expression, characteristically modern.

It is commonplace that our times do in fact suffer a more rapid rate of change technologically, and consequently in the increase of social mobility, than any before us. There is nothing fictive about that, and its implications are clear in our own day-to-day lives. What is interesting, t ~ Frank Kermode

Doubt – all a Gansey did was doubt. A Gansey reached bravely into the night-blind water, fate uncertain until the hilt of a sword pressed into a hopeful palm.
Except – only a few months before, this Gansey had reached into the dark uncertainty of the future, stretching for the promise of a sword, and had instead pulled out a mirror. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

One realizes how we take water for granted and how important it is to have it in order to stay alive. Beyond the drinking of it, let's not forget the hygiene. ~ Kim Basinger

She's kept her love for him as alive as the summer they first met. In order to do this, she's turned life away. Sometimes she subsists for days on water and air. Being the only known complex life-form to do this, she should have a species named after her. Once Uncle Julian told me how the sculptor and painter Alberto Giacometti said that sometimes just to paint a head you have to give up the whole figure. To paint a leaf, you have to sacrifice the whole landscape. It might seem like you're limiting yourself at first, but after a while you realize that having a quarter-of-an-inch of something you have a better chance of holding on to a certain feeling of the universe than if you pretended to be doing the whole sky.
My mother did not choose a leaf or a head. She chose my father. And to hold on to a certain feeling, she sacrificed the world. ~ Nicole Krauss

The Idea of Order at Key West

She sang beyond the genius of the sea.
The water never formed to mind or voice,
Like a body wholly body, fluttering
Its empty sleeves; and yet its mimic motion
Made constant cry, caused constantly a cry,
That was not ours although we understood,
Inhuman, of the veritable ocean.

The sea was not a mask. No more was she.
The song and water were not medleyed sound
Even if what she sang was what she heard,
Since what she sang was uttered word by word.
It may be that in all her phrases stirred
The grinding water and the gasping wind;
But it was she and not the sea we heard.

For she was the maker of the song she sang.
The ever-hooded, tragic-gestured sea
Was merely a place by which she walked to sing.
Whose spirit is this? we said, because we knew
It was the spirit that we sought and knew
That we should ask this often as she sang.
If it was only the dark voice of the sea
That rose, or even colored by many waves;
If it was only the outer voice of sky
And cloud, of the sunken coral water-walled,
However clear, it would have been deep air,
The heaving speech of air, a summer sound
Repeated in a summer without end
And sound alone. But it was more than that,
More even than her voice, and ours, among
The meaningless plungings of water and the wind,
Theatrical distances, bronze shadows heap ~ Wallace Stevens

Why can't you marry him?" he whispered.
She broke her word to herself and looked at him. "Because of you."
Arin's hand flinched against her cheek. His dark head bowed, became lost in its own shadow. Then he slipped from his seat and knelt before hers. His hands fell to the fists on her lap and gently opened them. He held them as if cupping water. He took a breath to speak.
She would have stopped him. She would have wished herself deaf, blind, made of unfeeling smoke. She would have stopped his words out of terror, longing. The way terror and longing had become indistinguishable.
Yet his hands held hers, and she could do nothing.
He said, "I want the same thing you want."
Kestrel pulled back. It wasn't possible his words could mean what they seemed.
"It hasn't been easy for me to want it." Arin lifted his face so that she could see his expression. A rich emotion played across his features, offered itself, and asked to be called by its name.
Hope. ~ Marie Rutkoski

Lucky for you, I have swim trunks packed," he said after he'd washed the bite down with a long drink of his water."Oh, darn. I was hoping you'd have to borrow a bikini from me. That would have made my day. ~ R.K. Lilley

Gabriel looked ou at the water for a moment. "Love is rare."
"Yes" Scarlet looked at the lake as well. "But always worth pursuing."
Gabriel nodded. "Always. ~ Chelsea Fine

The Monk in the Kitchen



I

ORDER is a lovely thing;
On disarray it lays its wing,
Teaching simplicity to sing.
It has a meek and lowly grace,
Quiet as a nun's face.
Lo - I will have thee in this place!
Tranquil well of deep delight,
All things that shine through thee appear
As stones through water, sweetly clear.
Thou clarity,
That with angelic charity
Revealest beauty where thou art,
Spread thyself like a clean pool.
Then all the things that in thee are,
Shall seem more spiritual and fair,

Reflection from serener air -
Sunken shapes of many a star
In the high heavens set afar.


II

Ye stolid, homely, visible things,
Above you all brood glorious wings
Of your deep entities, set high,
Like slow moons in a hidden sky.
But you, their likenesses, are spent
Upon another element.
Truly ye are but seemings -
The shadowy cast-oft gleamings
Of bright solidities. Ye seem
Soft as water, vague as dream;
Image, cast in a shifting stream.


III

What are ye?
I know not.
Brazen pan and iron pot,
Yellow brick and gray flag-stone
That my feet have trod upon -
Ye seem to me
Vessels of bright mystery.
For ye do bear a shape, and so
Though ye were made by man, I know
An inner Spirit al ~ Anna Hempstead Branch

The sail unfurled on its own. The oars unlocked, pushed into the water and began to row by themselves. We sailed under starry skies, the waves calm and glittering, no land to be seen in any direction.
"The ship ... is self-driving." I noted.
Next to me, Njord popped into existence, looking no worse for being caught in the collapse of Aegir's hall.
He chuckled. "Well, yes, Magnus, of course the ship is self-driving. Were you trying to row it the old-fashioned way?"
I ignored my friends glaring at me. "Um, maybe."
"All you have to do is will the ship to take you where you want to go," Njord told me. "Nothing else is required."
I thought about all that time I'd spent with Percy Jackson learning bowlines and mizzenmasts, only to find out that the Viking gods had invented Google-boats. I bet the ship would even magically assist me if I needed to fall off the mast. ~ Rick Riordan

What was his place? he wondered. Where was his world? He had sometimes stood on the riverbank and told himself: Deep down in the cold water is your world; a rock lashed to your feet is your clothing for that world. To enter it you need only to climb to the place above the rapids, where the pool is, where it is always calm, so it must be deep, and there bury yourself and leave a world that is not your own and find a garden, long fields already cleared and cribs already filled, a new place in which a weakness in a man is a matter for a word or chide, not a break through which the terrors of the world flow in. ~ John Ehle

We'll dive into the earth together. And if one day a wild flower finds water and springs up from that piece of earth, its stem will have two blooms for sure: one will be you, the other me. ~ Nazim Hikmet

A better-constituted boy would certainly have profited under my intelligent tutors, with their scientific apparatus; and would, doubtless, have found the phenomena of electricity and magnetism as fascinating as I was, every Thursday, assured they were. As it was, I could have paired off, for ignorance of whatever was taught me, with the worst Latin scholar that was ever turned out of a classical academy. I read Plutarch, and Shakespeare, and Don Quixote by the sly, and supplied myself in that way with wandering thoughts, while my tutor was assuring me that "an improved man, as distinguished from an ignorant one, was a man who knew the reason why water ran downhill." I had no desire to be this improved man; I was glad of the running water; I could watch it and listen to it gurgling among the pebbles and bathing the bright green water-plants, by the hour together. I did not want to know why it ran; I had perfect confidence that there were good reasons for what was so very beautiful. ("The Lifted Veil") ~ George Eliot

The general struggle for existence of animate beings is not a struggle for raw materials, these for organisms are air water & soil, all abundantly available, nor for energy which exists in plenty in the sun and any hot body in the form of heat, but rather a struggle for entropy, which becomes available through the transition of energy from the hot sun to the cold earth. ~ Ludwig Boltzmann

The mist was very dark in here, white and wet, and the cobwebs festooning the gaunt tree trunks were weighed down with thousands of shimmering, pear-shaped crystals. But it was not cold. Only still and secret and private, a hushed world within a world… They followed the sound, and after a while found a clearing, not open to the sky but clear on the ground. Long, wet grass stood there, and pine needles lay dark around the feet of the surrounding trees. In the centre, a well of water bubbled up and trickled away through the grass in two little channels already grooved in the spongy turf… Together they approached the spring, laying Aricia's bronze coin and his own gold ring in the ice-cold, pure water, and for a moment they stayed there, hypnotised by the quiet tinkle of the gushing water. ~ Pauline Gedge

We're oil and water. We don't mix. I'm bad for him. And he's no good for me either, probably. But I'm his, regardless. He needs to know that. ~ A. Zavarelli

Not I, nor anyone else can travel that road for you.
You must travel it by yourself.
It is not far. It is within reach.
Perhaps you have been on it since you were born, and did not know.
Perhaps it is everywhere - on water and land. ~ Walt Whitman

Happy? Most of the time? Happiness is always a fleeting thing," he said, "It never rests upon anyone as a permanent state, though many of us persist in believing in the foolish idea that if this would just happen or that we would be happy for the rest of our lives. I know moments of happiness just as most other people do. Perhaps I have learned to find it in ways that would pass some people by. I feel the summer heat here at this moment and see the trees and the water and hear that invisible gull overhead. I feel the novelty of having company when I usually come here alone. And this moment brings me happiness. ~ Mary Balogh

Firmly believe that the Lord is at all times everything to you. During prayer He is the power and the fulfillment in the Holy Spirit of each of your words. During pious conversation He is your living water, the ardent flow of your words at all times ? He is everything to you. Be free from care in the presence of your Lord. He has enclosed you with Himself upon all sides. He penetrates you wholly and knows all your thoughts, all your needs and inclinations, and if you live in Him with faith and love, then no evil shall befall you. 'The Lord is at hand; be careful for nothing' (Phil. 4:6). ~ John Of Kronstadt

One Night Stand"

Listen, you silk-hearted bastard,
I said in the bar last night,
You wear those dream clothes
Like a swan out of water.
Listen, you wool-feathered bastard,
My name, just for the record, is Leda.
I can remember pretending
That your red silk tie is a real heart
That your raw wool suit is real flesh
That you could float beside me with a swan's touch
Of casual satisfaction.
But not the swan's blood.
Waking tomorrow, I remember only
Somebody's feathers and his wrinkled heart
Draped loosely in my bed. ~ Jack Spicer

He tore his mouth from her eager lips to whisper, "Juliet…ah, sweeting…"
Only he had ever called her sweeting. "Morgan…" she whispered back.
He froze. Jerking back from her, he stared uncomprehending into her eyes. Then his face drained of heat as suddenly as hot iron dunked in water. He dropped his hands from her. "What the devil am I doing? I must be mad…"
Pivoting away, he leaned over to brace his fists on the table. His shoulders shook from the force of his sharp, heavy breaths.
"Morgan?" She stepped forward to lay her hand on his back.
He flinched at her touch. "Don't ever call me that again. Call me Sebastian or Lord Templemore, but never Morgan. I'm not him!" He whirled to face her once more. His haunted eyes gleamed in the dimness, and his features were twisted into anger. "I think I've proved that sufficiently."
His denial struck a dagger to her heart, and she began to tremble. Surely, he didn't mean to continue in his lies after what they'd just shared. How could he? "Please, Morgan, don't-"
"I'm not Morgan!" He glanced away. "I'm not." Only his shaky hand shoving his beautiful, thick hair from his face belied his seeming control. "And another thing: no woman ruined by a man waits two years to hunt him down when her family is spoiling for vengeance. She doesn't hide the truth from them, and she doesn't come in secret to accuse her supposed debaucher."
His gaze swung back to her as he dropped his voice. "She certainly doesn't l ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Water from clay pipes is much more wholesome than that which is conducted through lead pipes, because lead is found to be harmful for the reason that white lead is derived from it, and this is said to be hurtful to the human system. ~ Marcus Vitruvius Pollio

Sunk in the mud, it took all my strength to flip it over. I lifted out the oar and inspected the bottom for holes and rotted wood. Seeing none, I gathered up my skirt, climbed in, and paddled to the middle of the pond, an untouchable place, far from everything. I tried to think what I would say to him, worried my voice would slink off again and leave me. I remained there a long while, lapping on the surface. Vapor curled on the water, dragonflies pricked the air, and I thought it all beautiful. ~ Sue Monk Kidd

Fuck Master Liu! He's some ascetic who counts snowflakes on a mountain in China and dips his balls in ice water for the hell of it. You're not Liu. You live in the real world ~ Dakota Banks

Water, thou hast no taste, no color, no odor; canst not be defined, art relished while ever mysterious. Not necessary to life, but rather life itself, thou fillest us with a gratification that exceeds the delight of the senses. By thy might, there return into us treasures that we had abandoned. By thy grace, there are released in us all the dried-up runnels of our heart. Of the riches that exist in the world, thou art the rarest and also the most delicate - thou so pure within the bowels of the earth! A man may die of thirst lying beside a magnesian spring. He may die within reach of a salt lake. He may die though he hold in his hand a jug of dew, if it be inhabited by evil salts. For thou, water, art a proud divinity, allowing no alteration, no foreignness in thy being. And the joy that thou spreadest is an infinitely simple joy. ~ Antoine De Saint Exupery