Feet Off The Ground Quotes

Kicking leaves you momentarily on one foot, and for that moment you are in a very weak position. If you were to be swept off your feet, you would be finished. This is why lifting your feet off the ground is crazy. ~ Morihei Ueshiba

In order to fly, you have to give up the ground you are standing on. ~ Elie Wiesel

I'm the son of Jupiter!" he shouted, and just for effect, he summoned the winds, rising a few feet off the ground. "I'm a child of Rome, consul to demigods, praetor of the First Legion. ~ Rick Riordan

Wish on everything. Pink cars are good, especially old ones. And stars of course, first stars and shooting stars. Planes will do if they are the first light in the sky and look like stars. Wish in tunnels, holding your breath and lifting your feet off the ground. Birthday candles. Baby teeth. ~ Francesca Lia Block

First of all, I don't think they have to go that high. That is not necessary, to be that high in the air. I think they're showing off, those pilots. I think we could just go really fast just a few feet off the ground. Just high enough to miss the animals. ~ Ellen DeGeneres

If you can feel it on your face, it's about three to five. Leaves in constant motion, six to eight or so. Small tree branches in constant motion, about ten. Large branches in constant motion, twelve to fifteen. Dorothy and Toto hurtling past thirty feet off the ground, time to go home. ~ Peter Lessler

I love you," she whispers.
"It's only a week," I tell her, but I loathe this separation as much as she does.
Echo looks at me with those pleading green eyes. I twine my fingers into her curls. The first taste of her lips is sweet. The second makes me forget there's a bus terminal full of people. The third causes me to lift her feet off the ground and deepen our kiss.
"Noah," she whispers in reprimand as she breaks away. "We're causing a scene."
"Not my problem." But I lower her to the ground anyhow. "Besides, it wasn't my fault. You're the one looking at me with take-me-to-bed eyes, and I felt you kissing me back. Once again, you're the one getting us into trouble."
Echo grins. "You are so impossible."
"Damn straight, baby. ~ Katie McGarry

At that moment, the images in the giant sphere seemed to freeze in place as all motion suddenly ceased. The charging dragon stood transfixed with a plume of flame suspended in front of his nostrils. The knight hung motionless in mid-stride, both feet off the ground, sword raised but unmoving. Time stood still. The crowd waited in breathless anticipation. ~ Ed Dunlop

Mr. Sturgess ran the classes with iron, ex-military discipline. We each had spots on the floor, denoting where we should stand rigidly to attention, awaiting our next task. And he pushed us hard. It felt like Mr. Sturgess had forgotten that we were only age six--but as kids, we loved it.
It made us feel special.
We would line up in rows beneath a metal bar, some seven feet off the ground, then one by one we would say: "Up, please, Mr. Sturgess," and he would lift us up and leave us hanging, as he continued down the line.
The rules were simple: you were not allowed to ask permission to drop off until the whole row was up and hanging, like dead pheasants in a game larder. And even then you had to request: "Down, please, Mr. Sturgess." If you buckled and dropped off prematurely, you were sent back in shame to your spot.
I found I loved these sessions and took great pride in determining to be the last man hanging. Mum would say that she couldn't bear to watch as my little skinny body hung there, my face purple and contorted in blind determination to stick it out until the bitter end.
One by one the other boys would drop off the bar, and I would be left hanging there, battling to endure until the point where even Mr. Sturgess would decide it was time to call it.
I would then scuttle back to my mark, grinning from ear to ear.
"Down, please, Mr. Sturgess," became a family phrase for us, as an example of hard physical exercise, strict discipline, an ~ Bear Grylls

The first plane ride was in a homemade glider my buddy and I built. Unfortunately we didn't get more than four feet off the ground, because it crashed. ~ Alan Shepard

I never eat in a restaurant that's over a hundred feet off the ground and won't stand still. ~ Calvin Trillin

They found Seth Hubbard in the general area where he had promised to be, though not exactly in the condition expected. He was at the end of a rope, six feet off the ground and twisting slightly in the wind. ~ John Grisham

Hope you're keeping the dust out of your eyes and your feet off the ground. ~ Jennifer Niven

Scholars talk about the endless cycle of poverty and racism and classism and crime. But I don't see it as a cycle, as a circle. I see it as a locked room filled with the people who share my DNA. This room has recently been set afire and there's only one escape hatch, ten feet off the ground. And I know I have to build a ladder out of the bones of my fallen family in order to climb to safety.
pg 311 ~ Sherman Alexie

It has been extraordinary, wonderful, I've been three feet off the ground since I made that first record. ~ Vanessa Paradis

As the year went on, I felt I was handling my grief and depression better, but the pressures kept piling up. You don't really ever feel "comfortable" being a widow. You endure, maybe get through it, but you don't ever truly own it.
And still, a part of me didn't want to get beyond it. My pain was proof of my love.
One night I went over to a friend's house and just started bawling. I had been going through photos of Chris when he was in his twenties and thirties.
I'm going to be an old woman somewhere, and he's going to be young.
So many other emotions ran through me every day. People suggested that I might find someone else.
"No," I'd tell them. "No one will ever take his place."
School forms would ask about the kids' family situation. Were their parents married, divorced?
I'm not a single mother. I'm raising the kids with my husband! Even if he's not here. I always think about what he would want to do.
One night, alone in my bedroom, I picked up the laundry basket off the treadmill. I suddenly felt as if Chris was there with me, somehow hovering two feet off the ground.
He grinned.
"I'm working on something for you," he said. And I knew he meant he was trying to hook me up with a man.
I jerked back. Had I really heard that? Was he really there?
The room was empty, but I had the strongest feeling that he was there. I could feel his grin.
I became furious.
"How dare you!" I screamed in my head. "I don't want ~ Taya Kyle

Four grabs a bar with each hand and pulls himself up, easy, like he's sitting up in bed. But he is not comfortable or natural here
every muscle in his arm stands out. it is a stupid thing for me to think when I am one hundred feet off the ground. ~ Veronica Roth

In two easy strides, I reach her, weave my arms around her waist and lift her feet off the ground. My angel is so light she practically floats. "Isaiah! You're crazy!"
"Insane," I answer.
She rests her forehead against mine and braids her hands tightly on my neck. "That was close. He almost got you in the end."
I love the sensation of her body against mine. Tonight, I'm going to kiss her again and, if she'll let me, I'll explore a little further. "Were you doubting me?"
She smiles when she notices the lightness in my voice. "Never."
That's right, angel. I'll never let you down. ~ Katie McGarry

She lifted one arm up, covering her forehead in a mock swoon. "You're sweeping me off my feet."
He laughed, shocked by the sound after the shitty day they'd had. He bent his knees and cradled her in his arms, spinning her around while he drank in the magic of her giggles. Finally, he lowered her onto the bed and lay down beside her. "Now you've been swept. ~ Lisa Kessler

Her feet now safely planted on level flooring, Willow nervously smoothed her skirts before lifting her head.
Turquoise eyes met deep brown.
Willow's mouth dropped open in shock. "Lieutenant Numbskull?"
Rider stiffened, but recovered quickly. "Freckles?" he pretended surprise. Backing up a step, his appreciative gaze raked her from head to toe. "My God! It is you!"
Willow's cheecks burned beneath his conspicuous appraisal. The lieutenant's pleased grin fueled her simmering anger at Miriam's unwelcome matchmaking venture. "What are you doing here?" she huffed.
Rider arched a dark brow in ironic amusement. "Is that any way to greet an old friend...Freckles?"
"You two know each other?" Miriam interjected, astonished.
"You might say that." Rider chuckled.
Willow didn't know who she wanted to murder most, Miriam or the lieutenant. But standing here in all her ladylike spendor, she remembered his hurtful maligning of her femininity. For some inexplicable reason she felt compelled to prove that she could be every bit as feminine as any other woman.
Despite her stormy emotions, her next words dripped off her lips like warm honey. "Unfortunately, Miriam"-she caressed Rider's coat sleeve and flapped her lashes outrageously-"we were never formally introduced."
Rider eyed Willow's hand where it petted his arm, expecting claws to spring from her fingertips at any moment. Then he lifted his gaze to twin pools of mischief. One corner of his m ~ Charlotte McPherren

Dom, are you out here?" called a voice from somewhere beyond the stables.
Damn it all. It was Tristan.
Swiftly Dom donned his shirt. "Be quiet," he whispered to Jane, "and he'll go away."
Tristan's voice sounded again, even nearer now. "I swear to God, Dom, if you ride off to London in the dark and make a liar out of me before Ravenswood, I will kick you from here to France!"
"He won't go away," Jane whispered back, a hint of desperation in her voice. "He promised Ravenswood that you wouldn't head for London with broken carriage lamps, and now he'll want to make sure that you don't."
Which meant his arse of a brother wasn't going to stop looking for him. Any minute now, he'd be striding into the harness room.
Then Jane would have to marry Dom.
As soon as the thought entered Dom's head, it apparently occurred to her, too, for she paled and stepped near enough to whisper, "Please. Not like this."
He stared at her ashen face, and his stomach sank. He couldn't force her to wed him. After what had happened between them years ago, she would never forgive him for taking her choice away from her yet again.
Besides, he didn't want to force her into anything. The only way he could prove that he didn't intend to run roughshod over her for the rest of their lives was to walk away now. Even if it killed him.
Bloody hell. "I'll draw Tristan away from the stables," Dom said tersely as he shoved his stocking feet into his boots. "That will g ~ Sabrina Jeffries

It's January and I'm kicking snow off the ground. I just threw out the flower you made me promise to water, handle with care, because I was too careless, you said. Careless with things and people, around me and behind
and I remember being still for just a second or two, thinking that it's so much easier to leave and start anew, than take care of what's already here. ~ Charlotte Eriksson

Pushing Carson back out of the door, I grabbed my jacket off the hook and shoved my feet into the great old clogs that my poor podiatrist father wants outlawed.
"Don't you want to change or something?" Mom called after me.
"She'll never change," Carson answered, and followed me down the steps.
I settled myself into the passenger seat and buckled up as he back out of the driveway. "Your arches are falling?"
"Turns out I am deeply flawed," I admitted. ~ Rachel Vail

The dinner bell rings, and everyone trots off, Frederick coming in last with his taffy-colored hair and wounded eyes, bootlaces trailing. Werner washes Frederick's mess tin for him; he shares homework answers, shoe polish, sweets from Dr. Hauptmann; they run next to each other during field exercises. A brass pin weighs lightly on each of their lapels; one hundred and fourteen hobnailed boots spark against pebbles on the trail. The castle with its towers and battlements looms below them like some misty vision of foregone glory. Werner's blood gallops through his ventricles, his thoughts on Hauptmann's transceiver, on solder, fuses, batteries, antennas; his boot and Frederick's touch the ground at the exact same moment. ~ Anthony Doerr

Most urgent is the good First Job Program, that Lula plans to implement, which hasn't got off the ground. ~ Claudio Hummes

Don't care how big they are, boys; they can't do anything if you get 'em up off the ground. ~ Craig Johnson

Basic principles: no matter what, no matter when, no matter who ... any man has a chance to sweep any woman off her feet. He just needs the right broom. ~ Will Smith

When [an abusive man] tells me that he became abusive because he lost control of himself, I ask him why he didn't do something even worse. For example, I might say, "You called her a fucking whore, you grabbed the phone out of her hand and whipped it across the room, and then you gave her a shove and she fell down. There she was at your feet where it would have been easy to kick her in the head. Now, you have just finished telling me that you were 'totally out of control' at that time, but you didn't kick her. What stopped you?" And the client can always give me a reason. Here are some common explanations:

"I wouldn't want to cause her a serious injury."
"I realized one of the children was watching."
"I was afraid someone would call the police."
"I could kill her if I did that."
"The fight was getting loud, and I was afraid the neighbors would hear."

And the most frequent response of all:

"Jesus, I wouldn't do that. I would never do something like that to her."

The response that I almost never heard – I remember hearing it twice in the fifteen years – was: "I don't know."

These ready answers strip the cover off of my clients' loss of control excuse. ~ Lundy Bancroft

I'm going back in," I said as I turned toward the door. Clay sprang to his feet before I reached it and crowded behind me. I looked down at him then back at Rachel, who watched us with an enormous grin. "Looks like another guy who can't take his eyes off you. Living with you is going to be a riot." She laughed and picked up the towels. "Let's all go in. The neighbor's tree is going to shade the deck soon anyway." Having little choice, I opened the door for Clay. His fur brushed my bare thighs as he moved past me into the house. His head came to about my sternum. He really was huge...a huge problem. Sam had warned me Clay had taken my speech as an invitation to live together. At least, Clay had shown up in his fur. However, any relief I might have felt went unnoticed as I contemplated how he'd found me in a completely different state. If Sam told him, I'd have to kill Sam. Since I didn't have the stomach for outright murder, I'd break his coffee maker. I ~ Melissa Haag

In my version neither story would get off the ground because all the spouses involved in both stories would honor their partners and remain faithful. Both 'Patient' and "Piano' glorify and romanticize adultery; and that only works in fiction when it's the female who's cuckolding the male. If a story shows a man cheating on his wife… well, that's never a cultural masterpiece, is it? ~ Chuck Palahniuk

In Texas, years ago, almost all of the oil came from surface operations. Then someone got the idea that there were greater sources of supply deeper down. A well was drilled five thousand feet deep. The result? A gusher. Too many of us operate on the surface. We never go deep enough to find supernatural resources. The result is, we never operate at our best. More time and investment is involved to go deep but a gusher will pay off. ~ Alfred Armand Montapert

I'm starting to think that most villains aren't evil - they are just misundertood.
Or victims of that manipulative force: Love.
Love causes war and causes death, breaks souls and breaks lives. It runs people into the ground, makes them behave like moronic, immoral beasts, before it dances off, leaving only destruction in its wake - hearts blown wide open for the whole world to see.
Love puts the blame on the poor souls who succumb to it.
Love, that ultimate villainess. She makes examples of us all.
And yet we still come back for more.
We keep playing the role she gives us.
For one more chance to feel alive. ~ Karina Halle

Swimmin' laps around a bottle of Louie the Thirteenth
Jumpin' off of a mountain into a sea of codeine
I'm at the top of the top, but still I climb
And if I should ever fall, the ground will then turn to wine. ~ Lil' Wayne

Lightning struck five feet away.
Becca screamed.
Then lightning hit the other end of the bridge, almost directly
hitting the Guide.
Chris froze.
Another bolt, five feet off. The man darted back, away from
the bridge, fighting to keep his footing in the wind.
Another bolt. And another. Lightning rained from the sky,
targeting their enemy.
The Guide ran.
"Yeah," growled a voice from behind them. "Watch that fucker run now. ~ Brigid Kemmerer

First I need to do something.' He pulled me closer towards him until our lips were almost touching.
'What might that be?' I managed to stutter, closing my eyes, anticipating the warmth of his lips against mine. But the kiss didn't come. I opened my eyes. Alex had jumped to his feet.
'Swim,' he said, grinning at me. 'Come on.'
'Swim?' I pouted, unable to hide my disappointment that he wanted to swim rather than make out with me.
Alex pulled his T-shirt off in one swift move. My eyes fell straightaway to his chest – which was tanned, smooth and ripped with muscle, and which, when you studied it as I had done, in detail, you discovered wasn't a six-pack but actually a twelve-pack.
My eyes flitted to the shadowed hollows where his hips disappeared into his shorts, causing a flutter in parts of my body that up until three weeks ago had been flutter-dormant. Alex's hands dropped to his shorts and he started undoing his belt.
I reassessed the swimming option. I could definitely do swimming.
He shrugged off his shorts, but before I could catch an eyeful of anything, he was off, jogging towards the water. I paused for a nanosecond, weighing up my embarrassment at stripping naked over my desire to follow him. With a deep breath, I tore off my dress then kicked off my underwear and started running towards the sea, praying Nate wasn't doing a fly-by.
The water was warm and flat as a bath. I could see Alex in the distance, his skin gleaming in the n ~ Sarah Alderson

If he didn't frighten me, I'd be a bloody fool." Bronn gave a shrug. "Might be I could take him. Dance around him until he was so tired of hacking at me that he couldn't lift his sword. Get him off his feet somehow. When they're flat on their backs it don't matter how tall they are. Even so, it's chancy. One misstep and I'm dead. Why should I risk it? I like you well enough, ugly little whoreson that you are … but if I fight your battle, I lose either way. Either the Mountain spills my guts, or I kill him and lose Stokeworth. I sell my sword, I don't give it away. I'm not your bloody brother. ~ George R.R. Martin

Once in camp I put a log on a fire and it was full of ants. As it commenced to burn, the ants swarmed out and went first toward the center where the fire was; then turned back and ran toward the end. When there were enough on the end they fell off into the fire. Some got out, their bodies burnt and flattened, and went off not knowing where they were going. But most of them went toward the fire and then back toward the end and swarmed on the cool end and finally fell off into the fire. I remember thinking at the time that it was the end of the world and a splendid chance to be a messiah and lift the log off the fire and throw it out where the ants could get off onto the ground. But I did not do anything but throw a tin cup of water on the log, so that I would have the cup empty to put whiskey in before I added water to it. I think the cup of water on the burning log only steamed the ants. ~ Ernest Hemingway,

Rich loved taking care of women. He would swoop in like Tarzan swinging on a vine, rescue them from whatever situation they found themselves in, and be their hero. He would make all the decisions, and he would be strong and dependable. "What a catch!" they would feel.

But they did not see his inability to allow them to disagree or have an opinion. He could not yield to another person. He could not show weakness or vulnerability. He would make up for that inflexibility by being a very attractive "strong man" to women who would want to be swept off their feet more than they wanted a real person.

So, they would be a perfect match - until he would see the other side of a passive, compliant woman. She would be sneaky and not tell him exactly what was going on. Then, lo and behold, one day she would really "mess up" and have a wish contrary to somthing he wanted or valued. Then, from his perspective, she had "changed" and had become "selfish." "She used to be nice, and now look!"

But in reality, this is not what had happened. She had not changed. When they first met, she showed only half of who she was, hiding the other half, which would come out in sneaky, indirect ways. After a while, it came out directly, such as when she disagreed with him. Then he would cry, "Foul."

So they both got what they asked for. In her compliance, she attracted a controller. In his control he attracted an adaptive person who had a secret side and was indirec ~ Henry Cloud

Hedge scrambled away, but the first two skeletons grabbed his arms and lifted him off the ground. The coach dropped his bat and kicked his hooves. "Lemme go, ya stupid boneheads!" he bellowed. ~ Rick Riordan

The problem with playing hide-and-seek with your sister is that sometimes she gets bored and stops looking for you.And there you are - under the couch, in the closet, wedged behind the lilac tree - and you don't want to give up,because maybe she's just biding her time. But maybe she's wandered off. ... Maybe she's downstairs watching TV and eating the rest of the Pringles.You wait. You wait until you forget that you're waiting, until you forget that there's anything to you beyond stillnessand quiet; an ant crawls over your knee, and you don't flinch. And it doesn't matter now whether she's coming for you - the hiding is enough. (You win when no one finds you, even if they're not looking.)When you break from behind the tree, it's because you want to. It's the first breath after a long dive. Branches snapunder your feet, and the world is hotter and brighter.
Ready or not, here I come. Here I come, ready or not. ~ Rainbow Rowell

And then the Jamaican guy pulls out the sauce. "It be opening doors to other worlds, mon," he days. We made him do it first, saw that he didn't die. It seemed to make him pretty happy and then - Dave, the guy, I know I didn't really see this, but the guy shrunk himself, made himself three feet tall. We all laughed our asses off, then he was back to normal again.'
And you still tried that shit?'
Are you kidding? How could I not? ~ David Wong

What are you gonna say?" Emma asked. " 'I'm not sure I want you back, but I'm sure I don't want your ex-con ex-girlfriend to have you, either'? Yeah. That'll start this little triangle off on the right foot. ~ Rachel Vincent

Needless to say he had a newfound respect for that blind vampire.
There were very few things iAm hadn't been able to move in his adult life.
He'd changed a tire while acting as his own tire iron.
Had been known to walk vats of sauce big as washing machines around a kitchen.
Hell, he'd even actually relocated a washer and dryer without thinking much about it.
And then he'd had to lift that truck off his brother about two years ago.
Another example of Trez's love life getting out of control.
But down in the training center with Wrath?
There'd been no budging that fucker. The King had been bulldog-locked on - and the expression on his face? No emotion, not even a grimace of effort. And that body - viciously strong.
iAm shook his head as he crossed that apple tree in full bloom. Trying to budge Wrath had been like pulling on a boulder. Nothing moved; nothing gave.
That canine had gotten through, though. Thank God.
Now, ordinarily, iAm didn't like animals in the house - and he definitely wasn't a dog person. They were too big, too dependent, the shedding - too much. But he respected that golden whatever it was now -
Meeeeeeeeeeeerowwwwwwwwwwwwww.
"Fuck!"
Speak of the devil. As the queen's black cat wound its way around his feet, he was forced to Michael Jackson it over the damn thing so he didn't step on it.
"Damn it, cat!"
The feline followed him all the way into the kitchen, always w ~ J.R. Ward

The things that knock you down in life are tests, forcing you to make a choice between giving in and remaining on the ground or wiping the dirt off and standing up even taller than you did before you were knocked down. ~ Colleen Hoover

But it was like wearing a size five sneakers when your foot is a seven- you can get by for a few steps, and then you set down and pull off the shoes because it just plain much ~ Jodi Picoult

Mark came home late one frozen Sunday carrying a bag of small, silver fish. They were smelts, locally known as icefish. He'd brought them at the store in the next town south, across from which a little village had sprung up on the ice of the lake, a collection of shacks with holes drilled in and around them. I'd seen the men going from the shore to the shacks on snowmobiles, six-packs of beer strapped on behind them like a half dozen miniature passengers. "Sit and rest," Mark said. "I'm cooking." He sautéed minced onion in our homemade butter, added a little handful of crushed, dried sage, and when the onion was translucent, he sprinkled n flour to make a roux, which he loosened with beer, in honor of the fishermen. He added cubed carrot, celery root, potato, and some stock, and then the fish, cut into pieces, and when they were all cooked through he poured in a whole morning milking's worth of Delia's yellow cream. Icefish chowder, rich and warm, eaten while sitting in Mark's lap, my feet so close to the woodstove that steam came off my damp socks. ~ Kristin Kimball

Once Dad took us to an amusement park in Oregon. Before I ever manifested. I plummeted twenty stories on a drop ride. Totally helpless to gravity. Unable to fly, to save myself ...
I feel that same helpless terror now. Because nothing I say will divert Mom off her present course. Nothing will make her realize what she's doing to me.
I'm falling.
And this time nothing will save me. No mechanical device will work its wonder and jerk me back at the last minute.
But she does realize, a small voice whispers through me. That's why she's doing it. That's why she brought you here. She wants me to hit ground. ~ Sophie Jordan

AT FIRST THE PEOPLE in the Severn City Airport counted time as though they were only temporarily stranded. This was difficult to explain to young people in the following decades, but in all fairness, the entire history of being stranded in airports up to that point was also a history of eventually becoming unstranded, of boarding a plane and flying away. At first it seemed inevitable that the National Guard would roll in at any moment with blankets and boxes of food, that ground crews would return shortly thereafter and planes would start landing and taking off again. Day One, Day Two, Day Forty-eight, Day Ninety, any expectation of a return to normalcy long gone by now, then Year One, Year Two, Year Three. Time had been reset by catastrophe. ~ Emily St. John Mandel

That night he dreamt of horses in a field on a high plain where the spring rains had brought up the grass and the wildflowers out of the ground and the flowers ran all blue and yellow far as the eye could see and in the dream he was among the horses running and in the dream he himself could run with the horses and they coursed the young mares and fillies over the plain where their rich bay and their rich chestnut colors shone in the sun and the young colts ran with their dams and trampled down the flowers in a haze of pollen that hung in the sun like powdered gold and they ran he and the horses out along the high mesas where the ground resounded under their running hooves and they flowed and changed and ran and their manes and tails blew off of them like spume and there was nothing else at all in that high world and they moved all of them in a resonance that was like a music among them and they were none of them afraid neither horse nor colt nor mare and they ran in that resonance which is the world itself and which cannot be spoken but only praised. ~ Cormac McCarthy

When you turn off onto whatever secondary road you need to take, and you're following its twists and turns back into the mountains, and the ground is steep to either side of you, opening every now and then on a meadow, or an old house, you think, 'Here, there are secret places. ~ John Langan

He died on his return to New York. He died on the gangplank, just a few feet away from America. He didn't quite make it. His hat did though. It rolled off his head and down the gang-plank and landed, plop, on America. Poor devil. I heard it was his heart, but the way the Chinese dentist described the business, it could have been his teeth. ~ Richard Brautigan

I dragged myself to my feet, and with my hellhound in tow started off once more through the fastness of the wood, feeling, as the poet did before me, that my companion would be with me through the nights and through the days and down the arches of the years, and I should never be rid of him. ~ Daphne Du Maurier

Four times during the first six days they were assembled and briefed and then sent back. Once, they took off and were flying in formation when the control tower summoned them down. The more it rained, the worse they suffered. The worse they suffered, the more they prayed that it would continue raining. All through the night, men looked at the sky and were saddened by the stars. All through the day, they looked at the bomb line on the big, wobbling easel map of Italy that blew over in the wind and was dragged in under the awning of the intelligence tent every time the rain began. The bomb line was a scarlet band of narrow satin ribbon that delineated the forward most position of the Allied ground forces in every sector of the Italian mainland.

For hours they stared relentlessly at the scarlet ribbon on the map and hated it because it would not move up high enough to encompass the city.

When night fell, they congregated in the darkness with flashlights, continuing their macabre vigil at the bomb line in brooding entreaty as though hoping to move the ribbon up by the collective weight of their sullen prayers. "I really can't believe it," Clevinger exclaimed to Yossarian in a voice rising and falling in protest and wonder. "It's a complete reversion to primitive superstition. They're confusing cause and effect. It makes as much sense as knocking on wood or crossing your fingers. They really believe that we wouldn't have to fly that mission tomorrow if someon ~ Joseph Heller

I needed to say something. Something romantic! Something to sweep her off her feet.
"You're like a potato!" I shouted after her. "In a minefield."
She froze in place. Then she spun on me, her face lit by a half-grown fruit. "A potato," she said flatly. "That's the best you can do? Seriously?"
"It makes sense," I said. "Listen. You're strolling through a minefield, worried about getting blown up. And then you step on something, and you think, 'I'm dead.' But it's just a potato. And you're so relieved to find something so wonderful when you expected something so awful. That's what you are. To me."
"A potato."
"Sure. French fries? Mashed potatoes? Who doesn't like potatoes?"
"Plenty of people. Why can't I be something sweet, like a cake?"
"Because cake wouldn't grow in a minefield. Obviously."
She stared down the hallway at me for a few moments, then sat on an overgrown set of roots.
Sparks. She seemed to be crying. Idiot! I thought at myself, scrambling through the foliage. Romantic. You were supposed to be romantic, you slontze! Potatoes weren't romantic. I should have gone with a carrot. ~ Brandon Sanderson

At thirty-three the Whammer still enjoyed exceptional eyesight. He saw the ball spin off Roy's fingertips and it reminded him of a white pigeon he had kept as a boy, that he would send into flight by flipping it into the air. The ball flew at him and he was conscious of its bird-form and white flapping wings, until it suddenly disappeared from view. He heard a noise like the bang of a firecracker at his feet and Sam had the ball in his mitt. Unable to believe his ears he heard Mercy intone a reluctant strike. ~ Bernard Malamud

addition, it is important to continue lifting your weight off the feet and staying light on the seat by drawing the lats down and "resting" your weight on the riggers through the elbows. Keep your core firm, body angle set and arms loose, but straight; continue pushing the handles apart. All the while, apply pressure against the pins toward the blades through the elbows. Continue this through the immersion of the blade into the water and the transition into the Drive. ~ Gordon Hamilton

Where I'm is one of those stair climbing machines the agent has installed. You climb and climb forever and never get off the ground. You're trapped in your hotel room. It's the mystical sweat love lodge experience of our time, the only sort of Indian vision quest we can schedule into our daily planner.Our Stair Master to Heaven. ~ Chuck Palahniuk

How then does light return to the world after the eclipse of the sun? Miraculously. Frailly. In thin stripes. It hangs like a glass cage. It is a hoop to be fractured by a tiny jar. There is a spark there. Next moment a flush of dun. Then a vapour as if earth were breathing in and out, once, twice, for the first time. Then under the dullness someone walks with a green light. Then off twists a white wraith. The woods throb blue and green, and gradually the fields drink in red, gold, brown. Suddenly a river snatches a blue light. The earth absorbs colour like a sponge slowly drinking water. It puts on weight; rounds itself; hangs pendent; settles and swings beneath our feet. ~ Virginia Woolf

When I came off the boat I was very proud of the thick calluses which had developed on my feet. But now, I am struggling to get into my favourite high heels which is a shame, as I have so many. ~ Pamela Stephenson

Kaldar picked up a rock and tossed it into the clearing. It landed between two wards. A green stem shot out of the ground, and a hail of needle-thin thorns peppered the soil, striking sparks off the rock.
"You got any money on you?"
"No."
Kaldar grimaced. "What do you have?"
William made a mental inventory of some twenty-odd items he'd pulled out of the Mirror's bag of tricks and hid in his clothes this morning. Not much he could part with. "A knife," he said.
"Fine. I'll bet my knife against your knife that I can walk through there unharmed. ~ Ilona Andrews

Gardening Work

There was a man breaking up the ground, getting ready to plant, when

another man came by, "Why are you ruining this land?" "Don't interfere. Nothing can grow here

until the earth is turned over and crumbled. There can be no roses and no orchard without

first this devastation. You must lance an ulcer to heal.
You must tear down parts of

an old building to restore it." So it is with the sensual life that has no spirit. A person must

face the dragon of his or her appetites with another dragon, the life energy of the soul. When

that's not strong, everyone seems to be full of fear and wanting, as one thinks

the room is spinning when one's whirling around. If your love has contracted into anger, the

atmosphere itself feels threatening, but when you're expansive and clear, no matter

what the weather, you're in an open windy field with friends. Many people travel as far as Syria

and Iraq and meet only hypocrites. Others go all the way to India and see only people buying and selling.

Others travel to Turkestan and China to discover those countries are full of cheats

and sneak thieves. You always see the qualities that live in you. A cow may walk

through the amazing city of Baghdad and notice only a watermelon rind and a tuft of hay

that fell off a wagon. Don't repeatedly keep doing what your lowest self ~ Rumi

She was looking at him steadily; he however, found it difficult to look back at her; it was like gazing into a brilliant light.

Nice view, he said feebly, pointing toward with window.

She ignored this. He could not blame her.

I couldn't think what to get you, she said.

You didn't have to get me anything.

She disregarded this too.

I didn't know what would be useful. Nothing too big, because you wouldn't be able to take it with you.

He chanced a glance at her. She was not tearful; that was one of the many wonderful things about Ginny, she was rarely weepy. He had sometimes thought that having six brothers must have toughened her up.

She took a step closer to him.

So then I thought, I'd like you to have something to remember me by, you know, if you meet some Veela when you're off doing whatever you're doing.

I think dating opportunities are going to be pretty thin on the ground, to be honest.

There's the silver lining I've been looking for, she whispered, and then she was kissing him as she had never kissed him before, and Harry was kissing her back, and it was blissful oblivion better than firewhiskey; she was the only real thing in the world, Ginny, the feel of her, one hand at her back and one in her long, sweet-smelling hair-

The door banged open behind them and they jumped apart.

Oh, said Ron pointedly. Sorry.

Ron ~ J.K. Rowling