Clarice Groan Quotes

It was obvious that their sorrows were conjoined. ~ Mervyn Peake

The difference between the insane and the not-insane person is that the latter doesn't do or say the things he thinks. ~ Clarice Lispector

Ah, yes, the departmental shrink. And in the silence that followed, he knew everyone was waiting for him to groan, but he wasn't a Lethal Weapon wild card, damn it.
Yeah. For example, he couldn't dislocate his shoulder, he didn't live on the beach with a dog, and he wasn't rocking a death wish. You're welcome. ~ J.R. Ward

They will both be happy, and I do not grudge them their bliss; but I groan under my own misery: some of my suffering is very acute. Truly, I ought not to have been born: they should have smothered me at first cry. ~ Charlotte Bronte

He was on his second plate of steaming-hot kidney pie by the time his chewing slowed. And that's when he heard it. The faintest sounds escaping her room, sweeping across the antechamber, and sliding under the door to him.
The sounds of bathing.
A splash.
A trickle.
A faint series of drips.
It all added up to torture. Pure, liquid torture.
He pushed his plate away, propped his elbows on the table, and buried his face in his hands with a groan. Even plugging his ears didn't help.
When he closed his eyes, he could picture her. Naked in a shallow tub. Her feet dangling over the lip at one end, and her head reclined against the other. And all that water embracing her with heat, lapping at her nakedness, pouring over her most secret curves and furrows.
He was immediately, startlingly hard. ~ Tessa Dare

It's a waste of time to think about what I should have done and what I didn't. I really believe in that. That's how I react to the if-onlys of life. To moan and groan about something I shouldn't have done, could have done, might have done ... who knows? It is what it is. You got what you got. I live my life one day at a time. ~ Liza Minnelli

When the righteous rule, the people rejoice; when the wicked rule, the people groan. ~ William Paterson

What's going on here? Have you turned another one then?"
"Oh my God please don't say that," I groan. "And especially don't say that to John."
"Why?"
"Because you make me sound like a fucking wizard from Harry Potter."
He smirks. "Bet you've got the biggest and prettiest wand baby. ~ Lily Morton

We always think of a diet with a big groan. But I think diets are fun. I think it is an American pastime for a lot of women. ~ Mindy Kaling

What I want is to live of that initial and primordial something that was what made some things reach the point of aspiring to be human. ~ Clarice Lispector

Linger now with me, thou Beauty,
On the sharp archaic shore.
Surely 'tis a wastrel's duty
And the gods could ask no more.
If thou lingerest when I linger,
If thou tread'st the stones I tread,
Thou wilt stay my spirit's hunger
And dispel the dreams I dread.

Come thou, love, my own, my only,
Through the battlements of Groan;
Lingering becomes so lonely
When one lingers on one's own.

I have lingered in the cloisters
Of the Northern Wing at night,
As the sky unclasped its oysters
On the midnight pearls of light;
For the long remorseless shadows
Chilled me with exquisite fear.
I have lingered in cold meadows
Through a month of rain, my dear.

Come, my Love, my sweet, my Only,
Through the parapets of Groan.
Lingering can be very lonely
When one lingers on one's own.

In dark alcoves I have lingered
Conscious of dead dynasties;
I have lingered in blue cellars
And in hollow trunks of trees.
Many a traveler through moonlight
Passing by a winding stair
Or a cold and crumbling archway
Has been shocked to see me there.

I have longed for thee, my Only,
Hark! the footsteps of the Groan!
Lingering is so very lonely
When one lingers all alone.

Will thou come with me, and linger?
And discourse with me of those
Secret things the mystic ~ Mervyn Peake

When I think of what I already lived through it seems to me I was shedding my bodies along the paths. ~ Clarice Lispector

Home again, I can groan, scratch, and talk to myself. ~ Mason Cooley

Each new Clarice, compact as a living body with its smells and its breath, shows off, like a gem, what remains of the ancient Clarices, fragmentary and dead. ~ Italo Calvino

His grip on my shoulder tightens. His other hand behind my head caresses me softly and I sigh.
"Touch me, Skye."
His voice is rough, almost sounding like a groan. ~ Stephanie Witter

He bent his head, gently laid his cheek down on top of her breasts and closed his eyes. He inhaled her scent and let out a slow groan. Mine. ~ Gayle Donnelly

She knew what desire was - though she didn't know she knew. It was like this: she was starving but not for food, it was a kind of painful taste that rose from the pit of her stomach and made her nipples quiver and her arms empty without an embrace. ~ Clarice Lispector

God, you're tight," Ben groaned.
"That was a good groan?" Beatriz asked.
"The best groan. I could live and die inside you. ~ Tiffany Reisz

My world today is raw, it is a world of great vital difficulty. Because, more than a star, today I want the thick and black root of the stars, I want the source that always seems dirty, and is dirty, and that is always incomprehensible.
It is with pain that I bid farewell even to the beauty of a child - I want the adult who is more primitive and ugly and drier and more difficult, and who became a child-seed that cannot be broken between the teeth. ~ Clarice Lispector

Having a little fun at my work does not make me any less of an artist. ~ Clarice Cliff

I walk away, feeling Brody's gaze on me. There's no doubt that as soon as we get back in the car, I'm going to get it - good.

Instead, Brody stays quiet while I assemble the paperwork. He may not be speaking, but he's saying a whole lot in the silence.

"Just say it," I mumble and finally look over.

"I'm not saying a word." He raises his hands. "Clearly, you two know each other, and it ain't from growing up here. You tell me everything, so there is no way you wouldn't have told me you know him," Brody pauses and leans back. "I'm not saying a word about who you may or may not have slept with recently. Even though, it's pretty obvious."

"You know, you not saying a word took you a long time."

"It's not like you've had a five-year drought since your divorce. Or that you slept with a singer/actor. Nope. I have nothing to say about that. Not a thing."

I groan. "Could you not say anything for real this time?"

"Sure thing, boss. I'll just be over here, watching Hell start to thaw."

This is not going to get any better. I'd almost rather hear the questions. This is Brody Webber. My partner, my friend, and the one person who I have enough dirt on to make his life hell if he repeats this.

"Okay, fine. Yes, I slept with Eli Walsh. I was crazy and dumb. I also had about six beers, which is two over my threshold, and I was trying to be in the moment for once. Fucking Nicole and her pep talks."< ~ Corinne Michaels

I write as if to save somebody's life. Probably my own. Life is a kind of madness that death makes. Long live the dead because we live in them. ~ Clarice Lispector

She wasn't crying because of the life she led: because, never having led any other, she'd accepted that with her that was just the way things were. But I also think she was crying because, through the music, she might have guessed there were other ways of feeling, ~ Clarice Lispector

Antiseptic wash. He dosed himself with chlorodyne, took his own pulse, smoked a thermometer, and lay back on the couch with a suppressed groan. It was mid-afternoon, and he had completed his third round that day. He called the house-boy. "Take um big fella look along Jessie," he commanded. The boy carried the long telescope out on the veranda, and searched the sea. "One fella schooner long way little bit," he announced. "One fella Jessie." The white man gave a little gasp of delight. "You make um Jessie, five sticks tobacco along you," he said. There was silence for a time, during which he waited ~ Jack London

We're all broken in some way. Maybe a little maybe a lot. Life bends us, shapes us, molds us, makes us, breaks us. Not a damn thing for us to be ashamed of, but it's something we need to come to grips with. No need to cry about it, mope about it, be pissed about it, holler about it, moan and groan about it. It's something we face and deal with. Because whether we like it or not, whether we realize it or not, want it or not, we have to take responsibility for who we are ~ Lucian Bane

Yes, but if you cannot clear your name, what then are we to do?" she demanded.
"Forget we ever met!" said Ludovic with a groan.
This Spartan resolve did not commend itself to Eustacie at all. Two large tears sparkled on the ends of her eyelashes, and she said in a very forlorn voice; "But me, I have a memory of the very longest! ~ Georgette Heyer

What does he do, Clarice? What is the first and principal thing he does, what need does he serve by killing? He covets. How do we begin to covet? We begin by coveting what we see every day. ~ Thomas Harris

Keda's oldness was the work of fate, alchemy. An occult agedness. A transparent darkness. A broken and mysterious grove. A tragedy, a glory, a decay. - Titus Groan ~ Mervyn Peake

I had to groan a bit on the couch when my brow was mopped-as it is when you've been shot across the chest. ~ Anthony Head

I want to feel you deep inside me. I want to hear you groan and pant and moan as you plunge deeper and deeper. ~ Pepper Winters

This way," he murmurs and abruptly is inside me once more, but he doesn't start his usual punishing rhythm straight away. He leans over, releases my hands, and pulls me upright so I am practically sitting on him. His hands move up to my breasts, and he palms them both, tugging gently on my nipples. I groan, tossing my head back against his shoulder. He nuzzles my neck, biting down, as he flexes his hips, deliciously slowly, filling me again and again.
"Do you know how much you mean to me?" he breathes against my ear.
"No," I gasp.
He smiles against my neck, and his fingers curl around my jaw and throat, holding me fast for a moment. "Yes, you do. I'm not going to let you go." I groan as he picks up speed. "You are mine, Anastasia." "Yes, yours," I pant. "I take care of what's mine," he hisses and bites my ear. ~ E.L. James

Here truth is employed as a means to personal triumph and at the same time as a means to kill. It produces a few years later that sort of minister who operates not to instruct but to destroy his church. And if the elders, the church, and the young people begin to groan, if they protest to the church authorities, and finally stay away from worship, this young man is still Pharisaical enough not to listen one bit. ~ Helmut Thielicke

When I surprise myself in the depths of the mirror I get a fright. I can hardly believe that I have limits, that I am cut out and defined. I feel scattered in the air, thinking inside other beings, living in things beyond myself. When I surprise myself at the mirror I am not frightened because I think I am ugly or beautiful. It is because I discover I am of a different nature. After not having seen myself for a while I almost forget I am human, I forget my past and I am as free from end and awareness as something merely alive. I am also surprised, eyes open at the pale mirror, that there are so many things in me besides what I know, so many things always silent. ~ Clarice Lispector

Abby was ass up, her arms dangling behind me.
Abby moaned, and then her body lurched. The awful groan/growl that always accompanied vomit preceded a splashing sound. The back of my legs felt wet.
"Tell me she didn't," I said, frozen.
Shepley bent back for a second, and then righted himself. "She did. ~ Jamie McGuire

What did I tell you about playing the martyr card?" Andrew asked. "You said no one wanted it," Nathaniel said. "You didn't tell me to stop." "It was implied." "I'm stupid, remember? I need things spelled out." "Shut up." "Am I at ninety-four yet?" "You are at one hundred," Andrew said. "What happened to your face?" Nathaniel swallowed hard against a rush of nausea. "A dashboard lighter." He winced at the awful sound Nicky made. The groan of a quickly-shifting mattress almost swallowed up Aaron's ragged curse. Nathaniel looked back without thinking, needing to see who was on the move, and saw Aaron had rolled off the bed to go stand with Nicky. Turning meant the others got a look at his burned cheek. Kevin recoiled so hard he slammed into the wall behind him. He clapped a protective hand over his own tattoo and Nathaniel knew he was imagining Riko's reaction to this atrocity. This time it was Dan stopping Matt from getting up, her knuckles white against his dark shirt and her head turned away. Matt started to fight free but settled for a hoarse, "Jesus, Neil. The fuck did they do to you? ~ Nora Sakavic

To know when to quit. Whether to give up
this is often the question facing the gambler. No one is taught the art of walking away. And the anguish of deciding if I should keep playing is hardly unusual. Will I be able to quit honorably? or am I the type who waits stubbornly for something to happen? something like, for instance, the end of the world? or whatever it might be, maybe my own sudden death, in which case my decision to give up would be beside the point. ~ Clarice Lispector