Dank Jelous Quotes

I didn't worry about leaving Jay with Pagan this time. I was sure
he'd get the message when he read his ticket.
After all when a guy reads,
She's mine. That's your one and only warning.
Dank Walker
He knows if he isn't ready for a fight he can't win then he'd better back the fuck off. ~ Abbi Glines

Second, my nightmare I'd had wouldn't release me from its sharp claws. An image of Keeley strapped down on a table of horrors was too much for my brain to compute. Things were dark and dank, not to mention the monster looming over her in a leather mask. That particular visual haunted me the most. What if these weren't just dreams? Suppose they were events actually taking place? Those twin intuitions were the hardest for me to process. How could I possibly help her? ~ Lora Ann

The riper a tree's fruit, the more stones people cast at it. ~ Matshona Dhliwayo

When they fail to kill your genius, they try to assassinate your character. ~ Matshona Dhliwayo

The prince always said I belonged to him. I had thought this word protected me and kept me safe, but now I understood. Belonging meant he could place me wherever he liked, whether in his bed or in this dank tower. Belonging is not love. It never was. ~ Aisha Saeed

Clouds lazed in the folded arms of the hills, then billowed up and drifted away. Some tendrils twisted into tight spirals and traced the warmer ravines, behaving like mist tracking the dank fens of the marsh. The same game of physics playing on a different field of biology. ~ Delia Owens

A shrill whistle scratched out of the dank cloud surrounding him. A second soon followed.

„Two freighters are doing a whistle pass," Betty said behind him. „Is that how you intend to leave this, Gabriel? You and Mr. Harris were but two lonely hearts conducting a whistle pass through the fog of your lives? ~ KevaD

If I were to choose one single thing that that would restore Paris to the senses, it would be that strangely sweet, unhealthy smell of the Métro, so very unlike the dank cold or the stuffy heat of subways in New York. ~ May Sarton

I … There is no one I want more; there is nothing I want more than to be overwhelmed by you."
"But you don't want to kiss me?"
He inhaled slowly, trying to bring order to his thoughts. This was all wrong. "In Fjerda - " he began. "We're not in Fjerda." He needed to make her understand. "In Fjerda," he persisted, "I would have asked your parents for permission to walk out with you."
"I haven't seen my parents since I was a child."
"We would have been chaperoned. I would have dined with your family at least three times before we were ever left alone together."
"We're alone together now, Matthias."
"I would have brought you gifts."
Nina tipped her head to one side. "Go on."
"Winter roses if I could afford them, a silver comb for your hair."
"I don't need those things."
"Apple cakes with sweet cream."
"I thought drüskelle didn't eat sweets."
"They'd all be for you," he said.
"You have my attention."
"Our first kiss would be in a sunlit wood or under a starry sky after a village dance, not in a tomb or some dank basement with guards at the door. ~ Leigh Bardugo

It smells not of decay but of disappearing, of disintegration. An invisible eating away. But that's not how it works, it doesn't eat away like acid. It gets into the metabolism of things and overstimulates them until they die. It hyper-accelerates growth until the organism is undone. Herbicide, he thinks, is a better word than defoliant, but neither conveys the endless insinuation of the stuff, the occupation. He breathes the dank spray
it's heavy, oily, metallic. It almost doesn't smell, but it clings to you, gets between you and your sweat then sinks into your skin. ~ Dana Spiotta

Because forgiveness is like this: a room can be dank because you have closed the windows, you've closed the curtains. But the sun is shining outside, and the air is fresh outside. In order to get that fresh air, you have to get up and open the window and draw the curtains apart. ~ Desmond Tutu

In this story, the sun moves. In this story, every night meets a dawn and burns away in the bright morning. In this story, Winter can never hold back the Spring ... He is the best of all possible audiences, the only Audience to see every scene, the Author who became a Character and heaped every shadow on Himself. The Greeks were right. Live in fear of a grinding end and a dank hereafter. Unless you know a bigger God, or better yet, are related to Him by blood. ~ N.D. Wilson

Good to get the truth out into the air," Ham said. "Everything grows best in oxygen and sunlight except secrets and guilt and regrets. They like the dank spaces. Drag them out into the light and they fail to thrive." We ~ Catherine Ryan Hyde

He was a beautiful pagan god with the voice of a serial killer, but that didn't make him any less god like. It just meant rather than dying in some dank basement or isolated cabin, I'd die bound on an altar as part of some gruesome sacrificial rite. Exsanguinating while he stood over my naked body with my blood dripping from an obsidian blade...Angelina Martin ~ Candace Vianna

Often, half in a bay of the mountains and half on a headland, a small and nearly amphibian Schloss mouldered in the failing light among the geese and the elder-bushes and the apple trees. Dank walls rose between towers that were topped with cones of moulting shingle. Weeds throve in every cranny. Moss mottled the walls. Fissures branched like forked lightning across damp masonry which the rusting iron clamps tried to hold together, and buttresses of brick shored up the perilously leaning walls. The mountains, delaying sunrise and hastening dusk, must have halved again the short winter days. Those buildings looked too forlorn for habitation. But, in tiny, creeper-smothered windows, a faint light would show at dusk. Who lived in those stone-flagged rooms where the sun never came? Immured in those six-foot-thick walls, overgrown outside with the conquering ivy and within by genealogical trees all moulting with mildew? My thoughts flew at once to solitary figures…a windowed descendant of a lady-in-waiting at the court of Charlemagne, alone with the Sacred Heart and her beads, or a family of wax-pale barons, recklessly inbred; bachelors with walrus moustaches, bent double with rheumatism, shuddering from room to room and coughing among their lurchers, while their cleft palates called to each other down corridors that were all but pitch dark. ~ Patrick Leigh Fermor

The dank smell of death in that alleyway haunted her senses, her memories. She kept thinking this was the end - this was what death felt like, what death looked like. Death was a …
'Vampire,' she whispered. ~ Lauren Dawes

Author:
A common gadabout who freely wanders over the landscape with wanton disregard. His days are spent picking up all the stray free words he can handle and squirreling them away for later use.
Subsequently, (days, months or years later) working by candlelight and hidden away in his dank, musty secluded lair, the rogue simply rearranges the collected words on yellowed bond with a sharpened quill ink pen fashioned from the tail feather of a bald-headed vulture.
Once finished, the dastardly cur audaciously attempts to sell those assembled pages for fleeting fame and profit. ~ Leopold Throckmorton

Stop hating people for what they have; start working for what you desire. ~ Matshona Dhliwayo

The forest of Tantrevalles shades a deep dank soil; somewhere under this mold lies the carcass of a snake which in better times used the name Visbhume; he no longer tippety-taps and moves and jerks to the rhythms of a propulsive inner music; and sometimes one wonders in cases like this: here is the dead thing; where has the music gone? ~ Jack Vance

You are not remembered for who you pull down, but who you lift up. ~ Matshona Dhliwayo

Man has created some lovely dwellings, some soul-stirring literature. He has done much to alleviate physical pain. But he has not ... created a substitute for a sunset, a grove of pines, the music of the winds, the dank smell of the deep forest, or the shy beauty of a wildflower. ~ Harvey Broome

He shot across the dark and dank room and gently lowered her slight body, which seemed to weigh almost nothing, until she stood with her back to the wall, as he called a shield of water to block her from any danger. ~ Alyssa Day

It was a glorious morning. The wind had fallen quite, and the sun was shining as if he would say, "Keep up your hearts; I am up here still. I have not forgotten you. By and by you shall see more of me." But Nature lay dead, with a great white sheet cast over face and form. Not dead? - Just as much dead as ever was man, save for the inner death with which he kills himself, and which she cannot die. It is only to the eyes of his neighbours that the just man dies: to himself, and to those on the other side, he does not die, but is born instead: "He that liveth and believeth in me shall never die." But the poor old lord felt the approaching dank and cold of the sepulchre as the end of all things to him - if indeed he would be permitted to lie there, and not have to get up and go to worse quarters still. ~ George MacDonald

Objectivity and again objectivity, and expression: no hindside-before-ness, no straddled adjectives (as "addled mosses dank"), no Tennysonianness of speech; nothing-nothing that you couldn't, in some circumstance, in the stress of some emotion, actually say. ~ Ezra Pound

I was, a near grown man, sat in his dank, dark and rickety digs, feverishly hovering about the glare of a computer screen like a disorientated moth, one searching for a flaming light of recognition from someone/anyone! ~ Tom Conrad

To wonder sadly, did I say? No: a new influence began to act upon my life, and sadness, for a certain space, was held at bay. Conceive a dell, deep-hollowed in forest secresy; it lies in dimness and mist: its turf is dank, its herbage pale and humid. A storm or an axe makes a wide gap amongst the oak-trees; the breeze sweeps in; the sun looks down; the sad, cold dell becomes a deep cup of lustre; high summer pours her blue glory and her golden light out of that beauteous sky, which till now the starved hollow never saw. A new creed became mine - a belief in happiness. ~ Charlotte Bronte

Look up at the stars, not down at your haters. ~ Matshona Dhliwayo

In the dank utility room deep in the subbasements of my personality, a little man wiped his hands on his overalls and pulled the switch: More. ~ Colson Whitehead

I got this." Dank Walker ~ Abbi Glines

He thought there must be a place, like a dead-letter office, where everyone's longing went, yearning that was sent out, day after day. He thought it must collect somewhere, in a dank basement room, the mass of it rising and rising like water, and with no end in sight. ~ Jane Hamilton

No matter what else you came up against, if you could smile and laugh while a monkey did you with chestnuts in a dank concrete basement while somebody took pictures, well, any other situation would be a piece of cake ~ Chuck Palahniuk

The dank night is sweeping down from the sky
and the setting stars incline our heads to sleep. ~ Virgil

Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping ... waiting ... and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir ... open its jaws and howl. It speaks to us ... guides us. Passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love ... the clarity of hatred ... the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank. Without passion, we'd be truly dead. ~ Joss Whedon

As thou hast created me out of mingled air and glitter, I thank thee for it.
[Ger., Wie aus Duft und Glanz gemischt
Du mich schufst, dir dank ich's heut.] ~ Friedrich Ruckert

When man of slender visits you / Nothing on earth that one can do / In well he'll hide, or watery hole / And he will eat your mortal soul / so if thou seest the man so thin / pray you don't see him again / for he is not from world we know / he cometh from far down below / on his bed of dirt from grave / from his dank and silent cave / he watches you yet has no sight / he taketh you away at night ~ Jack Goldstein

I felt like I was being pulled through a dark, dank wardrobe into some boozy Narnia. ~ Brittany Cavallaro

Mr Earbrass was virtually asleep when several lines of verse passed through his mind and left it hopelessly awake. Here was the perfect epigraph for TUH:
A horrid ?monster has been [something] delay'd
By your/their indiff'rence in the dank brown shade
Below the garden ...
His mind's eye sees them quoted on the bottom third of a right-hand page in a (possibly) olive-bound book he read at least five years ago. When he does find them, it will be a great nuisance if no clue is given to their authorship. ~ Edward Gorey

Critasism is just a way of saying i'm jelous of your talents ~ Rayvon L. Browne

Beware the woods and the dark, dank, deep. He'll follow you home, and he won't let you sleep. ~ Claire Legrand

Sunday morning dawned bright and cloudless. Ernest awoke early as always. He put on the red "Emporor's robe" and padded softly down the carpeted stairway. The early sunlight lay in pools on the living room floor. He had noticed that the guns were locked up in the basement. But the keys, as he well knew, were on the window ledge above the kitchen sink. He tiptoed down the basement stairs and unlocked the storage room. It smelled as dank as a grave. He chose a double-barreled Boss shotgun with a tight choke. He had used it for years of pigeon shooting. He took some shells from one of the boxes in the storage room, closed and locked the door, and climbed the basement stairs. If he saw the bright day outside, it did not deter him. He crossed the living room to the front foyer, a shrinelike entryway five by seven feet, with oak-paneled walls and a floor of linoleum tile. He had held for years to the maxim: "il faut (d'abord) durer". Now it had been succeeded by another: "il faut (apres tout) mourir". The idea, if not the phrase, filled all his mind. He slipped in two shells, lowered the gun butt carefully to the floor, leaned forward, pressed the twin barrels against his forehead just above the eyebrows, and tripped both triggers. ~ Carlos Baker

The convent of the sacred order of the Blessed Ladies of the Lobster had once been a dank and dark medieval castle but was now, after a lick of paint and a few throw pillows, a dank and dark convent. ~ Jasper Fforde

Thorne said, "I saw the village. Just over that rise."
"It didn't look charming, did it?" Colin raised a brow as he reached for the tinderbox. "I should hate for it to be charming. Give me a dank, seedy, vice-ridden pustule of a village any day. Wholesome living makes my skin crawl."
The corporal gave him a stony look. "I wouldn't know about charming, my lord."
"Yes. I can see that," Colin muttered. He struck a flint and lit the fuse. "Fair enough."
-Thorne & Colin ~ Tessa Dare

A fertile tree has no reason to yearn for another tree's fruit. ~ Matshona Dhliwayo

When the world of man collapses in ruin, beauty will take over. The trees shall grow again where there were streets; the flowers will again cover the meadow that is now a dank field of hovels. That shall be the purpose of the Satanic master, to see the wild grass and the dense forest cover up all trace of the once great cities until nothing remains. ~ Anne Rice

I have come to the conclusion that Seinfeld is a dank cesspool of humanity. ~ Jesse Saperstein

Honestly, my entire childhood could be summed up with one word: Reader. I was always hunched over a book; in fact, I was the only kid in the world who got paler in the summer, because I'd sneak down into our cool, dank cellar and sit alone with a book for hours. ~ Kristan Higgins

The water closet's rusting and slightly broken porcelain throne betrayed its purported grandeur. The air was dank and unrecycled. The motel room stunk of body odor because all of the windows were tightly nailed shut and never opened, even though that was in violation of municipal ordinances. ~ Daniel Maldonado

War was hell.
So was Andersonville Prison.
Justice lay curled on her side on the dank, roach-infested floor. She inhaled a short breath, trying to keep from breathing too deeply when waste of all sorts and colours lined every square inch of the place. How had it come to this? ~ Ashley Nikole