Friends Turn Lovers Quotes

Or what is it you used to say when we'd to go out in my pickup truck down by the pond, just the two of us? I'm the bit to your bridle. I'm the Jack in your Daniels…."
Would it be weird if I were shedding tears right now?
"You're the fruit in my pie…you're the sprinkles on my cake," I finish his sentence. ~ A.Wilding Wells

Logan folded his arms. His voice was granite."My word stands."
"Can you love an idea more than you love a man and not become a monster? How many friends will you sacrifice on the altar of Justice, Logan?"
"If you force my hand, at least one."
They were standing on a precipice. Socially, Logan had always been Kylar's superior. Morally, Kylar had always felt inferior, too. But they'd never been placed in a direct hierarchical relation. Now Logan was giving an order. He would not be moved.
Kylar could only accept his order and accept all his orders henceforth, or reject it and them forever. There was a part of him that yearned to obey. He was convinced that killing Terah was the right thing, but Logan's moral compass was a more accurate instrument than Kylar's. What was it about submission that was so hard? Kylar wasn't being asked for blind servility. He was being asked to obey a man he knew and loved and respected, who in turn respected him.
'The wolfhound is pampered by the fire. The wolf is hunted in the cold.'
"Do you know how much I love you, Logan?" Kylar asked. Logan opened his mouth, but before he could say a word, Kylar said, "This much." And left. ~ Brent Weeks

Imagine you're sitting having dinner in a restaurant. At some point during the meal, your companion leans over and whispers that they've spotted Lady Gaga eating at the table opposite. Before having a look for yourself, you'll no doubt have some sense of how much you believe your friends theory. You'll take into account all of your prior knowledge: perhaps the quality of the establishment, the distance you are from Gaga's home in Malibu, your friend's eyesight. That sort of thing. If pushed, it's a belief that you could put a number on. A probability of sorts. As you turn to look at the woman, you'll automatically use each piece of evidence in front of you to update your belief in your friend's hypothesis Perhaps the platinum-blonde hair is consistent with what you would expect from Gaga, so your belief goes up. But the fact that she's sitting on her own with no bodyguards isn't, so your belief goes down. The point is, each new observations adds to your overall assessment. This is all Bayes' theorem does: offers a systematic way to update your belief in a hypothesis on the basis of the evidence. It accepts that you can't ever be completely certain about the theory you are considering, but allows you to make a best guess from the information available. So, once you realize the woman at the table opposite is wearing a dress made of meat -- a fashion choice that you're unlikely to chance up on in the non-Gaga population -- that might be enough to tip your belief over the thresho ~ Hannah Fry

With failing bravado, Dexter tried to laugh. "You sound like you're dumping me!"
She smiled sadly. "I suppose I am in a way. You're not who you used to be, Dex, I really, really liked the old one. I'd like him back, but in the meantime, I'm sorry, but I don't think you should phone me anymore." She turned and, a little unsteadily, began to walk off down the side alley in the direction of Leicester Square.
For a moment, Dexter had a fleeting but perfectly clear memory of himself at his mother's funeral, curled up on the bathroom floor while Emma held onto him and stroked his hair.Yet somehow he had managed to treat this as nothing, to throw it all away for dross. He followed a little way behind her. "Come on, Em, we're still friends aren't we? I know I've been a little weird, it's just..." She stopped for a moment, but didn't turn round, and he knew that she was crying. "Emma?"
Then very quickly she turned, walked up to him and pulled his face to hers, her cheek warm and wet against his, speaking quickly and quietly in his ear, and for one bright moment he thought he was to be forgiven.
"Dexter, I love you so much. So, so much, and I probably always will." Her lips touched his cheek. "I just don't like you anymore. I'm sorry."
And then she was gone, and he found himself on the street, standing alone in this back alley trying to imagine what he would possibly do next. ~ David Nicholls

It is not enough for the hand to touch a book and turn its pages. The pages of a book must touch the heart. ~ Jennifer Spredemann

I never turn down a drink. Among friend's it's always appropriate. A man is only a man as they say but brandy is still brandy. You'll find that in the Talmud too. ~ Sholem Aleichem

Our dad hugged us and kissed us so much that some friends and relatives complained that he was going to turn us into sissies or homosexuals. But my dad didn't care. Let them raise their kids in a reserved and reticent way. He grew up in Israel, and his boys were going to be hugged and kissed by their father and know they were loved. ~ Ezekiel Emanuel

I won't live in L.A. again, hell no, my friends tell me s**t when they come over I don't want to hear. I don't even know who got married and who got pregnant. You turn on the news in L.A. and it is all gossip about people. All the stuff that is going on in the world right now and this gossip is the news? ... I love the BBC. I haven't heard myself mentioned on TV since I have been here. That has been really weird for me, and great. ~ Lindsay Lohan

In a small town, unexplained tragedy can only go so long before it grows teeth, sprouts sharp claws, and turns, snarling, on its own self. Before fragments of gossip become rumors, and the rumors become suspicions. Before neighbors start eyeing each other with the mistrustful narrowness of oft-kicked dogs. Inside the safe shelter of their homes, husbands and wives draw the blinds tight and turn to each other, worrying at small bits of information and wondering who, who among their shrinking circle of trusted friends, might still know something he isn't telling. ~ Kat Rosenfield

The principle that first you try to solve your problems on your own and only turn to others as a last resort applies to friends. We have an obligation to show our friends that we are turning to them for a favor not because it happens to be convenient for us to do so but because of a compelling reason. ~ P.M. Forni

The banging at the door was his excuse to turn away - some people had their coats in there - and while he stood with his back to her she dressed again and unlocked the door and walked out. She smiled at the taunts and jeers of her friends and when someone asked, "Where's Mike?" she said, "I think I killed him," which got a great laugh. ~ Alice McDermott

I'm only asking you to stop every so often and turn off your mobile device, put down the Angry Birds and the Words with Friends and take a moment. Stop to look up and look around. Pause and check in with yourself - and spend a moment there. ~ Maria Shriver

At this time when I turn 50, because so there's many of my friends and family who didn't get to see 50-years-old, and so, I'm celebrating for them too. ~ Reba McEntire

Des felt a familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach. All soldiers felt the same thing going into battle, whether they admitted it or not: fear. Fear of failure, fear of dying, fear of watching their friends die, fear of being wounded and living out the rest of their days crippled or maimed. The fear was always there, and it would devour you if you let it.
Des knew how to turn that fear to his own advantage. Take what makes you weak and turn it into something that makes you strong. Transform the fear into anger and hate: hatred of the enemy; hatred of the Republic and the Jedi. The hate gave him strength, and the strength brought him victory.
For Des the transformation came easily once the fighting started. Thanks to his abusive father, he'd been turning fear into anger and hate ever since he was a child. Maybe that was why he was such a good soldier. Maybe that was why the others looked to him for leadership. ~ Drew Karpyshyn

There is a kind of grandeur and respect which the meanest and most insignificant part of mankind endeavor to procure in the little circle of their friends and acquaintance. The poorest mechanic, nay, the man who lives upon common alms, gets him his set of admirers, and delights in that superiority which he enjoys over those who are in some respects beneath him. This ambition, which is natural to the soul of man, might, methinks, receive a very happy turn; and, if it were rightly directed, contribute as much to a person's advantage, as it generally does to his uneasiness and disquiet. ~ Joseph Addison

But love unexplained is clearer. When pen hasted to write, On reaching the subject of love it split in twain. When the discourse touched on the matter of love, Pen was broken and paper torn. In explaining it Reason sticks fast, as an ass in mire; Naught but Love itself can explain love and lovers! None but the sun can display the sun, If you would see it displayed, turn not away from it. Shadows, indeed, may indicate the sun's presence, But only the sun displays the light of life. Shadows induce slumber, like evening talks, But when the sun arises the "moon is split asunder." 3 In the world there is naught so wondrous as the sun, But the Sun of the soul sets not and has no yesterday. Though the material sun is unique and single, We can conceive similar suns like to it. But the Sun of the soul, beyond this firmament, No like thereof is seen in concrete or abstract.4 ~ Rumi

never saw our friends or family. We were forced to marry." "That didn't turn out so bad," she said. Bob held his tongue as he drove through the heart of the curve. ~ Blake Crouch

Perhaps our Irish friends should not so completely turn their backs on their historical dishes, no matter how many jokes they might have to endure. ~ Nick Clooney

She couldn't turn away from the eyes that held her. Eyes as deep, as Dark as the night, yet there was something that sparked with warmth, that kept those eyes from being cold. ~ Lora Leigh

I think the hard thing about this job [stand-up] I mean, I think this part is great but that the traveling is y'know, 'cause 'cause I'm gone a lot from home and this time I'm out for three-and-a-half weeks without going home, and that's hard, to be gone three-and-a-half weeks 'cause then I have to ask my friends, Would you mind going to the house and watering the plants, and turn some lights on and make it look like somebody's home, and make sure that the mobile over the crib isn't tangled or the baby's gonna get bored ... ~ Ellen DeGeneres

Style still matters, for at least three reasons. First, it ensures that writers will get their message across, sparing readers from squandering their precious moments on earth deciphering opaque prose. When the effort fails, the result can be calamitous-as Strunk and White put it, "death on the highway caused by a badly worded road sign, heartbreak among lovers caused by a misplaced phrase in a well-intentioned letter, anguish of a traveler expecting to be met at a railroad station and not being met because of a slipshod telegram." Governments and corporations have found that small improvements in clarity can prevent vast amounts of error, frustration, and waste, and many countries have recently made clear language the law of the land.

Second, style earns trust. If readers can see that a writer cares about consistency and accuracy in her prose, they will be reassured that the writer cares about those virtues in conduct they cannot see as easily. Here is how one technology executive explains why he rejects job applications filled with errors of grammar and punctuation: "If it takes someone more than 20 years to notice how to properly use it's, then that's not a learning curve I'm comfortable with." And if that isn't enough to get you to brush up your prose, consider the discovery of the dating site OkCupid that sloppy grammar and spelling in a profile are "huge turn-offs." As one client said, "If you're trying to date a woman, I don't expect flowery Jane Austen pros ~ Steven Pinker

My mum was crazy. And her mum was crazy. And her mum's mum was crazy. Is it my turn? Am I going to live the rest of my life giggling at raindrops, wearing paper slippers? When I go to dinner with friends should I not use a fork 'cause I just might snap? Hey, you guys look great. How's the baby? ~ Christopher Titus

Friends are the best to turn to when you're having a rough day. ~ Justin Bieber

You know, I saw that on the news last week. People walking down the street, minding their own business, and BAM their lips turn elastic and wrap themselves around a friend's man. Happens all the time. It's a side-effect from the 'Stupid Pill'. Must have refilled your prescription before you left town. ~ Nancy Straight

As engine vibrated under him, he tried to tell himself it was all going to work out. It had to. Now that he'd found The One, there was no way in hell he was letting her get away. If that meant he had to move heaven and earth to find a good life for her and her pack mates here in the city, he'd do it. If being with Jayna meant he had to empty out his bank account and sell everything he owned, he was okay with that too.

He had friends in other places he could turn to, Family too. His parents owned a huge house and a lot of land outside of Denver. If he showed up with Jayna, her pack, and no job, his family would welcome them with open arms. Okay, maybe his mom would be a little shocked when she found out his girlfriend came with an extended family, but she'd overlook it if there was a possibility of a grandchild in the near future.

Becker was still daydreaming about kids with Jayna someday when headlights suddenly appeared in his rear- view mirror. He glanced over, swearing when he saw two vehicles speeding up behind him and closing fast. ~ Paige Tyler

People who are able to turn criticism into a positive situation are going to attract friends. ~ Norman Vincent Peale

I twirl away, then back to him, staying on my toes, my hips always lightly rotating. He reacts clumsily at first, but soon the awkwardness fades away and he begins matching my movements, reflecting them in reverse. We dance like this, wrist to wrist, twirl and turn, step for step, for several more minutes. He holds my gaze, our eyes connecting at every turn, anticipating one another's movements.
His pulse is so strong against my wrist that it echoes through me, almost like a heartbeat of my own. My skin warms; my breath catches in my throat. I know how closely I dance along the line of destruction, but I cannot pull myself away. He is intoxicating, his force of life an addiction I cannot refuse. I have not felt this alive in centuries, not since you, Habiba, when you taught me the dance of Fahradan. Ours was a dance of giddy laughter, a dance of friends, sisters, a dance of life and youth and hope.
But this dance is different.
It is not I but he who entices, reversing the ancient roles of the dance. And I resist because I must, because if I don't, because if I give in to the all-too-human desires racing through me - then it is Aladdin who will pay the terrible price.
"Stop." I drop my wrists and step away, and he does the same, still caught up in mirroring me. Except that he is breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with exertion, his eyes filled with a strange, wondrous, curious look as he stares at me. He moves closer, his eyes fixed on mine, an ~ Jessica Khoury

Where would the would-be "purists" draw the line between native and alien elements? This whole planet was altered by the hand of man.
A birder who scorned the alien Sky Larks might stand on San Juan and salute the native eagles . . . but some of those eagles had been released here; and they were living on an unnaturally high population of rabbits, from another continent, introduced here. The rabbits, in turn, were probably feeding on alien plants from other lands that were naturalized here - if the San Juan roadsides were anything like all the other roadsides in North America. And we birders of European descent were introduced here also, a few generations back. Even my Native American friends of the night before could claim to be "native" in only a relative sense; their ancestors had come across the Bering land bridge from Asia. None of us is native here. ~ Kenn Kaufman

The temptation to level off [your giving] increases with each passing year. Pride tells you that you've sacrificed more than others. Fear tells you it's time to worry about the future. Friends say you've given enough, that it's someone else's turn now. But Jesus says to keep on, and you will see more of God. ~ Francis Chan

Left to my own devices, would I trade this for firm thighs, fewer wrinkles, a better memory? On some days. That's why it's such a blessing I'm not left to my own devices. Because the truth is I have amazing friends and a deep faith in God, to whom I can turn. I have a cool kid, a sweet boyfriend, darling pets. I've learned to pay attention to life, and to listen. I'd give up all this for a flatter belly? Are you crazy? ~ Anne Lamott

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IMPUDENT BANTER

I have come to realize that the better friends I become with someone, the more impudent I get with him. Politeness is appropriate for strangers, but with a friend there's no holding back, no need for any restraint.

So consider this. There is no closer friend than the Friend, no one who endures more outrageous behavior than that one, and no one more accepting of it, or responsive to, all the rank blurt and tease. Let the spontaneous metaphysical banter turn to flint, or get white-hot; it will still be held within the horizon of this Friendship. ~ Bahauddin

For me, the biggest conflict with the surgery date was that it fell on the same day as Cole's junior/senior formal at school. The formal had been a big night for Reed two years earlier, with the highlight being a special ring ceremony. Juniors receive their senior rings and ask two special people in their lives to turn the ring on their finger. Reed has asked me to be one of those two people for him, which was a special honor for me. If Cole wants me there, I will reschedule Mia's surgery.
"Cole, who are you planning on having turn your ring?" I asked.
"I didn't get a ring, Mom. I really don't want one," Cole replied.
Seriously? I thought. Boy, are you your father's son or what?
"All I really care about is getting some really good pictures."
I knew Cole was telling me the truth. He is not about fanfare or rituals. But he did want to remember the night.
"Absolutely! I'll make sure we have plenty of pictures of you," I exclaimed.
As it turned out, I think he was the most photographed student that night. Since I could not be there in person, people texted, e-mailed, and tagged me on Facebook with pictures of him. Again, my friends and Cole's friends' parents did what they could to help us through this difficult time. Something as simple as taking pictures was priceless to me. Yes, Cole was completely fine with my not being at the formal, but he was also sad that he could not be at the hospital for Mia. I assured him that there's never a good t ~ Missy Robertson

I could have sworn I just heard him thinking about the proposal he had planned. Red roses and champagne waiting at the restaurant, but maybe I imagined it."
I frowned in turn. "You could read his thoughts?"
"It is probably just my imagination running away with me. I'm so freaked out that I plucked the idea from my own head. I'm not a mind reader."
"Well, it is easy enough to test. Try to concentrate on me and tell me what I'm thinking."
Finally, Nessa's eyes lit up and met mine. Amused, she quirked a smile at me. "Really, Cora, that's lame. I love fluffy bunnies, is not what I expected. ~ Andrea Heltsley

- I'm a normal kid, I was raised by television.

The secret to great barbeque: only Oscar knows it. Life should be so simple as enjoying ribs, farting, crapping, pissing, fucking and drinking, and maybe smoking too, but anything other than that is too complicated, life should be simple. It is not.

- Work? You would go to work even if there's a chance your job's imaginary?

Imaginary or not, the questions Max poses remain as relevant for Frank, Sam, and Oscar as they are for us.

A slight hangover won't be best friends with any kind of daylight and while this one wasn't particularly hazardous, they wouldn't be having any of it.

"...the lunatic is on the grass."

Surely if you see a bunch of people having a picnic in a park that would turn your head wouldn't it? How normal a picnic really is? When was the last time you saw one happening? Not in a movie, in real life.

If a man's hat falls to the ground, said man is expected to pick it up. That's the premise.

I'm not some pissy little kid who stopped believing in God because some priests rape kids. I don't believe in God because I can't be sure of its
existence.

I'm not some pissy little kid who stopped believing in God because the church raped kids. I don't believe in God because I can't be sure of its existence.

Nothing is wrong.

You don't take another man's hat, another man's ride, or another man's woman. ~ Santiago Rodriguez

If you take any flower you please and look it over and turn it about and smell it and feel it and try to find out all its little secrets, not of flower only but of leaf, bud and stem as well, you will discover many wonderful things. This is how you make friends with plants, and very good friends you will find them to the end of our lives. ~ Gertrude Jekyll

Are. To have people cut you dead, or look at you with contempt, or have your friends and family turn their backs - You don't know what that's like. I don't want you to know what that's like. God damn it, I saw your face when you thought your uncles would get those bloody photographs! ~ K.J. Charles

What tormented Ivan Ilyich most," Tolstoy writes, "was the deception, the lie, which for some reason they all accepted, that he was not dying but was simply ill, and he only need keep quiet and undergo a treatment and then something very good would result." Ivan Ilyich has flashes of hope that maybe things will turn around, but as he grows weaker and more emaciated he knows what is happening. He lives in mounting anguish and fear of death. But death is not a subject that his doctors, friends, or family can countenance. That is what causes him his most profound pain. ~ Atul Gawande

And in the complicated, relished, introspective web of young lovers, or more exactly, young petters, they progress along the oldest channel in the world and the most deceptive, for they are certain it is unique to them. Even as they are calling themselves engaged, they are losing the details of their subtle involved pledging of a troth. They are moved and warmed by intimacies between them, by long husky conversations in the parlor, in inexpensive restaurants, by the murmurs, the holding of hands in the dark velvet caverns of movie houses. They forget most of the things that have advanced them into love, feel now only the effect of them. And of course their conversation alters, new themes are bruited. Shy sensitive girls may end up as poetesses or they may turn bitter and drink alone in bars, but nice shy sensitive Jewish girls usually marry and have children, gain two pounds a year, and worry more about refurbishing hats and trying a new casserole than about the meaning of life. After their engagement, Natalie talks over their prospects. ~ Norman Mailer