Crossword Hint Quotes

#1. It's true with fashion, acting, anything: Make sure it's timeless, but at the same time, there's got to be a little hint of risk. - Author: Jake McDorman

#2. I do not believe making money in order to consume goods is
mankind's sole purpose on this planet. If you're wondering
what I believe our purpose on this planet is, I'll give you
a hint ... it has to do with creating and sharing. - Author: Bill Hicks

#3. Athena examined the diskette in her hand. It was a shiny black 3.5 inch high density floppy, with no label to give a hint of what wonders it might hold. But she knew Mr. Madison well enough to know that it must be something very special.
"Those diskettes contain a key - a key that will unlock the secrets of the Internet" he said. - Author: Ted Pederson

#4. He was an arsehole, but, God, she looked at Richard sometimes, the racing bike, the way he did the crossword in pencil first. There were evenings when she wanted Dad to ride in off the plains, all dust and sweat and tumbleweed, kick open the saloon doors and stick some bullet holes in those fucking art books. - Author: Mark Haddon

#5. Her voice was very strong and quite earthy, quite a deep voice. I think their was a hint of soul to it. - Author: Hayley Conway

#6. Hint: money flows into most funds after good performance, and goes out when bad performance follows. - Author: John C. Bogle

#7. I got the impression under the mumbo-jumbo that she'd gotten the hint Cormac was maybe into something a league or two worse than half-cut seances and excuses to get a little naughty while some incense burns and call it an occult mystery. - Author: Alan Bligh

#8. He had not breathed a word of love, or dropped one hint of tenderness or affection, and yet I had been supremely happy. To be near him, to hear him talk as he did talk, and to feel that he thought me worthy to be so spoken to - capable of understanding and duly appreciating such discourse - was enough. - Author: Anne Bronte

#9. Sometimes, I hear people talk about the different men and women of the Old Testament, and there is a hint of jealousy. They may say it, or just insinuate it, but here's what they communicate...'What would it have been like to hear God's voice and see him move in such powerful ways? I wish it was the same for us as it was for those whose stories we read about in scripture. When I get to heaven I can't wait to ask David, Elijah, or Moses what it was like.' But I think it will be just the opposite in heaven. Before we can ask David what it was like to slay a giant, to win the battles, he'll say, Tell me what it was like on earth to have the Holy Spirit inside of you, giving you strength when you are weak. We might say to Elijah, What was it like to call down fire from heaven before the prophets of Baal and to raise that boy from the dead? And I think Elijah might say, yeah, he actually ended up dying again. You tell me what it's like to have God living inside of you. What was it like to live life on earth with the Holy Spirit giving you joy when you're depressed or giving you the power to overcome that sin in your life? We might say to Moses, What was it like to follow the cloud by day and the fire by night? What was it like to meet with God on that Mountain? And Moses might say, I had to climb that mountain to meet with God. You tell me what it was like to have him dwell in you everyday. What was it like to have the Holy Spirit giving you directions when you didn't know what to - Author: Kyle Idleman

#10. Okay, I said, what's so hot about playing the piano?
She told me that the most important thing was to establish the tenderness right off the bat, or at least close to the top of the piece, just a hint of it, a whisper, but a deep whisper because the tension will mount, the excitement and the drama will build - I was writing it down as fast as I could - and when the action rises the audience might remember the earlier moment of tenderness, and remembering will make them long to return to infancy, to safety, to pure love, then you might move away from that, put the violence and agony of life into every note, building, building still, until there is an important decision to make: return to tenderness, even briefly, glancingly, or continue on with the truth, the violence, the pain, the tragedy, to the very end. - Author: Miriam Toews

#11. ... this is why Gottman has couples talk about something involving their marriage - like their pets - without being about their marriage. He looks closely at indirect measures of how the couple is doing: the telling traces of emotion that flit across one person's face; the hint of stress picked up in the sweat glands of the palm; a sudden surge in heart rate; a subtle tone that creeps into an exchange. - Author: Malcolm Gladwell

#12. On Christmas morning when I was a child, my mother would leave a book wrapped at the foot of the bed, which was a hint that Santa had come. It was also her way of keeping us in bed a little longer before we went downstairs. So I've always associated books with happiness and gifts. And they are. I can't get enough of them. - Author: David McCullough

#13. There was a problem: No one cared about human rights anymore, not at home or abroad. They cared about growth
hoped for and celebrated in all the newspapers, invoked by zealous bureaucrats in every self-serving television interview. On this matter, the filmmaker was agnostic
he came from money, and couldn't see the urgency. Like many of his ilk, he sometimes confused poverty (which must be eradicated!) with folklore (which must be preserved!), but it was a genuine confusion, without a hint of ill intention, which only made it more infuriating. - Author: Daniel Alarcon

#14. He had never clearly fathomed the true weight of a word of good, truth, and purity cast in the stream of human speech and the deep bend it cut in it. Nor had he thought that a word spoken boldly and loudly, with no hint of false shame, but rather with courage, that this word would not drown in the ugly cries of fashionable satyrs but would plunge like a pearl into the abyss of public life and always find itself a shell.
Many stumble over a good word, blushing in embarrassment, and utter a careless word boldly and loudly, never suspecting that it, too, unfortunately, will not go for naught but will leave a long trail of often times ineradicable evil.
p. 296 - Author: Ivan Goncharov

#15. Stand strong, firm and rooted like a solid tree. Though distractions may cause you to waver, remain balanced and calm. Otherwise, you will surely snap in half and fall to the ground at the slightest hint of difficulty. Be a filter, not a sponge. Learn to remove unnecessary junk from your life before it becomes a part of who you are. Stand tall, stand proud, keep your eyes and your body focused. Otherwise, you will blow away with the slightest gust of wind. - Author: Leigh Hershkovich

#16. Eh, I've always rather enjoyed being fashionably late." I picked up the violin case for Melanie, giving her an hug before clambering off the rock. "I feel like we should be leading a procession in, Pied Piper style."
"I know just the thing." A hint of her old self peeked through her eyes.
A moment later the first bars of "Safety Dance" hummed from the strings. I bit my lip trying not to giggle. Together the two of us broke out in lopsided chorus as I twirled about her. Ignoring the stares of the elves, we strutted up the center of the caravan, Brystion trailing behind us bemusedly. - Author: Allison Pang

#17. I don't know why or when I started falling for you, Alex. But I did. Ever since I almost ran over your motorcycle that first day of school I haven't been able to stop thinking about what it would be like if you and I got together. And that kiss ... God, I swear I never experienced anything like that in my life. It did mean something. If the solar system didn't tilt then, it never will. I know it's crazy because we're so different. And if anything happens between us I don't want people at school to know. Not that you'll agree to have a secret relationship with me, but I at least have to find out if it's possible. I broke up with Colin, who I had a very public relationship with and I'm ready for something private. Private and real. I know I'm babbling like an idiot, but if you don't say something soon or give me a hint of what you're thinking then I'll--"
"Say it again," he says.
"That whole drawn-out speech?" I remember something about a solar system, but I'm too light-headed to recite the entire thing all over again.
He steps closer. "No. The part about you fallin' for me."
My eyes cling to his. "I think about you all the time, Alex. And I really, really want to kiss you again."
The sides of his mouth turn up.
Unable to face him, I look at the ground. "Don't make fun of me." I can take anything but that right about now.
"Don't turn away from me, mamacita. I'd never make fun of you. - Author: Simone Elkeles

#18. Port of Oakland truckers, who are not legally allowed to form a union, went on strike to protest against repressive work rules. The President of ILWU Local 10 helped the police break the picket line and directed his own members to cross, complaining without a hint of irony that the truckers were "trying to use the port as an economic tool. - Author: Anonymous

#19. A text comes from Wallace.

An actual text too, not a message through the forum app. I gave him my number awhile back, before Halloween, but not because I wanted him to call me or anything. I wrote it on the edge of our conversation paper in homeroom and slid it over to him because sometimes I see something and think, Wallace would laugh at that, I should send him a picture of it, but the messaging app is terrible with pictures and texting is way better.

So he texts me now, and it's a picture. A regular sweet potato pie. Beneath the picture, he says, I really like sweet potato pie.

I text back, Yeah, so do I.

Then he sends me a picture of his face, frowning, and says, No, you don't understand.

Then another picture, closer, just his eyes. I REALLY like sweet potato pie.

A series of pictures comes in several-second intervals. The first is a triangular slice of pie in Wallace's hand. Then Wallace holding that slice up to his face - it's soft enough to start collapsing between his fingers. The next one has him stuffing the slice into his mouth, and in the final one it's all the way in, his cheeks are puffed out like a chipmunk's, and he's letting his eyes roll back like it's the best thing he's ever eaten.

I purse my lips to keep my laugh in, but my parents are fine-tuned to the slightest hint of amusement from me, and they both look up.

"What's so funny, Eggs?" Dad says.

"Nothing," - Author: Francesca Zappia

#20. Don't help anybody's expectation of you to grow. Don't even give them a hint that you will fulfill it. Whatsoever suffering you pass through, be ready to pass through it, but don't allow others to have expectations about you. Otherwise the world will close you in and there will be imprisonment. Once you nod yes to doing something, then you are closed in. You are in the tunnel already, and now with every step, every new act, you will fall into a new misery, new unfulfillment, new lies, new failures. Drop fulfilling others' expectations, and drop expecting others to fulfill yours. Remember, if you suffer, you suffer because of you; if others suffer, they suffer because of them. Nobody suffers because of others – remember that deeply. Only then will you be able to be really sincere to your inner self; and that sincerity is religiousness. - Author: Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh

#21. I could almost see fairies skipping on top of the snake-tongue flames - brief moments of clarity overcome by suffocating normalcy. It occurred to me that everything is believable during a glimpse, and it is during these flashes we see things as they truly are - unruly shadows in the corner of our perceptions. The only way to overcome is to act as Rachael did - as we all should - staring into the brightest light we can manage, until any hint of darkness is burned from our vision. - Author: Christopher Hawke

#22. Now they're both laughing, and when they breathe in, the cloying smell of cherry blossom shampoo fills the air around them, which just makes them laugh harder, until they're all laughed out.

And in the silence that falls afterward, something changes. The tension that has been strung taut between them since the moment they met now goes slack. Soon the motion of the bus begins lulling them to sleep. Lev feels Miracolina lean into his shoulder. He doesn't move for fear of waking her. He just enjoys the feeling of her there - certain that she would never do such a thing if she were awake.

And then she says, with no hint of sleep in her voice, "I forgive you."

Lev feels it begin deep inside him, just as it did on the day he realized his parents would never take him back. It's an emotional swell that can't be contained, and there's no bottle in the world big enough to hold it. And although he fights to keep his sobs silent, his chest begins to heave with them, and he knows he won't be able to stop any more than Miracolina was able to stop laughing. Although she must know he's racked with tears, she says nothing, just keeps her head on his shoulder as his tears fall into her hair.

All this time, Lev never realized what he needed. He did not need to be adored or pitied. He needed to be forgiven. Not by God, who is all-forgiving. Not by people like Marcus and Pastor Dan, who would always stand by his side. He needed to be forgiven by an unfo - Author: Neal Shusterman

#23. Half inebriated, he vaulted up the stairs to find them lolling in chairs in the hall outside Maria's door. Gabe clasped a bunch of violets in his hand while Jarret held a rolled-up piece of parchment in his.
"What are you two louts doing here in the middle of the night?" he growled.
"It's nearly dawn," Gabe said coolly. "Hardly the middle of the night. Not that you would have noticed, in your drunken state."
Scowling, Oliver took a step toward them. "It's still earlier than you, at least, every rise."
Gabe glanced at Jarret. "Clearly, the old boy doesn't remember what today is."
"I believe you're right," Jarret returned, a hint of condemnation in his tone.
Oliver glared at them both as he sifted through his soggy brain for what they menat. When it came to him, he groaned. St. Valentine's Day. That sobered him right up. "That doesn't explain why you're lurking outside Maria's door."
Jarret cast him a scathing glance as he got to his feet. "Why do you care? You ran off to town to find your entertainment. Seems to me that you're relinquishing the field."
"So you two intend to step in?" he snapped.
"Why not?" Gabe rose to glower at him. "Since your plan to thwart Gran isn't working, and it's looking as if we'll have to marry someone, we might as well have a go at Miss Butterfield. She's an heiress and a very nice girl, too, in case you hadn't noticed If you're stupid enough to throw her over for a bunch of whores and opera dancers, we' - Author: Sabrina Jeffries

#24. One of my favorite ways to write paranormal, as in the 'Wake' trilogy, is to write very normal characters with just a hint of something other-worldly. Like somewhere, maybe, someone really can get sucked into other people's dreams. - Author: Lisa McMann

#25. If I could eat only one thing for the rest of my life, it would be rhubarb fool, which I make with ginger and a hint of elderflower cordial. - Author: Sebastian Faulks

#26. Let me make this very clear: 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, our digital exhaust is being sucked up by the government. It is being compiled on big server farms and it's being analyzed by different computer programs, looking for any hint that you and I are up to no good. - Author: Brad Thor

#27. My library smells of old books; warm winters wrapped up with a good story, leather bound parchment basal tones, ancient ink keynotes and the merest hint at highnotes of mirth-induced wee... - Author: Shedlon Wortlebucket

#28. It's beautiful here," Rees murmured, watching the light play upon the water before returning his gaze to her.
Mrs. Hollingsworth, his newest client, turned to him and forced a stiff smile. "Yes, money can buy all kinds of beautiful things," she said without a hint of emotion. - Author: D.A. Rhine

#29. The castle is situated at the terminus of a long and upward-winding mountain road. It presents a somewhat forbidding aspect to the world, for there is little about it to suggest gaiety or warmth or any of those qualities that might assure a wayfarer of welcome. Rather, this vast edifice of stone exudes an austerity, cold and repellent, a hint of ancient mysteries long buried, an effluvium of medieval dankness and decay. At night, and most particularly on nights when the moon is slim or cloud-enshrouded, it is a heavy blot upon the horizon, a shadow only, without feature save for its many-turreted outline; and should the moon be temporarily released from her cloudy confinement, her fugitive rays lend scant comfort, for they but serve to throw the castle into sudden, startling chiaroscuro, its windows fleetingly assuming the appearance of sightless though all-seeing orbs, its portcullis becoming for an instant a gaping mouth, its entire form striking the physical and the mental eye as would the sight of a giant skull. - Author: Ray Russell

#30. As in most obituaries, the author said little about the man; they rarely do. But the reticence here was greater than usual. It mentioned that Ravenscliff left a wife, but did not say when they married. It said nothing at all about his life, nor where he lived. There were not even any of the usual phrases to give a slight hint: 'a natural raconteur' (loved the sound of his own voice); 'Noted for his generosity to friends' (profligate); 'a formidable enemy . . .' (a brute); 'a severe but fair employer . . .' (a slave-driver); 'devoted to the turf' (never read a book in his life); 'a life-long bachelor' (vice); 'a collector of flowers' (this meant a great womaniser. Why it came to mean such a thing I do not know.) More browsing - Author: Iain Pears

#31. Your generation was promised a decent husband and maybe a job on the side. Mine," I said with some nostalgia and a hint of disappointment, "mine was promised jet packs. - Author: Holly Morris

#32. Meredith bundled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders before ducking her head and scurrying past his brother. Travis knew he probably looked like a lovesick pup just standing there watching her go, but he didn't care. Crockett even came into the room and stared into the newly emptied hall alongside him, obviously trying to taunt him out of his stupor. "So when are you finally going to tell her that you're insanely in love with her?" Crockett asked, only a hint of teasing in his voice. Travis rubbed a hand over his whiskery jaw, reaching his fingers up to the place she had kissed. "Tonight. Definitely tonight. - Author: Karen Witemeyer

#33. Like writing, paintings seem to hint at a topsy-turvy world in which, so to speak, time's arrow moves the other way. - Author: Martin Amis

#34. Something about her eyes or voice has always suggested the hint of a free spirit, trapped in a Peck and Peck cage, dreaming of making rude noises at public gatherings of Republicans. - Author: Jeff Greenfield

#35. You must convince your chiefs that what you're telling 'em is important, which ain't difficult, since they want to believe you, having chiefs of their own to satisfy; make as much mystery of your methods as you can; hint what a thoroughgoing ruffian you can be in a good cause, but never forget that innocence shines brighter than any virtue, "Flashman? Extraordinary fellow - kicks 'em in the crotch with the heart of a child"; remember that silence frequently passes for shrewdness, and that while suppressio veri is a damned good servant, suggestio falsi is a perilous master. - Author: George MacDonald Fraser

#36. It is very dangerous to go into eternity with possibilities which one has oneself prevented from becoming realities. A possibility is a hint from God. One must follow it. - Author: Soren Kierkegaard

#37. All I'd ever wanted was to forget. but even when I thought I had, pieces had kept emerging, like bits of wood floating up to the surface that only hint at the shipwreck below. - Author: Sarah Dessen

#38. All roads indeed lead to Rome, but theirs also is a more mystical destination, some bourne of which no traveller knows the name, some city, they all seem to hint, even more eternal. - Author: Richard Le Gallienne

#39. The more imagination the reader has ... the more he will do for himself. He will, at a mere hint from the author, flood wretched material with suggestion and never guess that he is himself chiefly making what he enjoys. - Author: C.S. Lewis

#40. He reached for her, slipping his fingers into the front pocket of her pants and tugging her between his thighs where he rested against the bike. "It'll be fun. You've never ridden until you've ridden with me."
"I've ridden you before."
He coughed and choked on a laugh. "Well played," he said, his voice thick. He sucked on her bottom lip. Just a tiny tug. A hint of things to come. "You ready?"
"Where are you taking me?"
"I'm going to abscond with you to the wilds of central Texas and have my way with you in the mesquite brush. - Author: Jessica Scott

#41. In understanding the basics of digestion, you'll discover who's in charge. Here's a hint. It's not you. - Author: Nancy S. Mure

#42. If theme parks, with their pasteboard main streets, reek of a bland, safe, homogenized, whitebread America, the Renaissance Faire is at the other end of the social spectrum, a whiff of the occult, a flash of danger and a hint of the erotic. Here, they let you throw axes. Here are more beer and bosoms than you'll find in all of Disney World. - Neil Steinberg, Chicago Sun-Times - Author: Rachel Lee Rubin

#43. He will break it to her gently, he thinks. A hint, at first; a few more suggestions in letters over the coming months; in September he'll raise the subject. By then...Perhaps he'll have more encouragement from Dr. Hooker by then, which he can offer to Clara as evidence that his work is worthwhile. Perhaps he'll understand by then how he might justify his plans to her. For now - what else can he say in this letter? He has kept too much from her, these last months. If his letters were meant to be a map of his mind, a way for her to follow his trail, then he has failed her. Somehow, as summer comes to these peaks and he does his job for the last time, he must find a way to let her share in his journey. But for now all he can do is triangulate the first few points. - Author: Andrea Barrett

#44. Heade's calm is unsteady, storm-stirred; we respond in our era to its hint of the nervous and the fearful. His weather is interior weather, in a sense, and he perhaps was, if far from the first to portray a modern mood, an ambivalent mood tinged with dread and yet imbued with a certain lightness.The mood could even be said to be religious: not an aggressive preachment of God's grandeur but a kind of Zen poise and acceptance, represented by the small sedentary or plodding foreground figures that appear uncannily at peace as the clouds blacken and the lightning flashes. - Author: John Updike

#45. Lauga had asked Margret whether she thought there would be an outward hint of the evil that drives a person to murder. Evidence oft he Devil: a herelip, a snaggletooth, a birthmark; some small outer defect. There must be a warning, some way of knowing, so that honest people could keep their guard. - Author: Hannah Kent

#46. When, about fifteen years ago, I walked into Arshile's studio for the first time, the atmosphere was so beautiful that I got a little dizzy and when I came to, I was bright enough to take the hint immediately. If the bookkeepers think it necessary to make sure of where things and people came from, well then, I came from 36 Union Square ... I am glad that it is about impossible to get away from his powerful influence. - Author: Willem De Kooning