Getting Stepped On Quotes

Hope. People want hope. We crave hope. We long for hope. Hope has been present since the very beginning. And almost in the worst situations of human history, you often find the greatest amount of hope. The very nature of the situation, the way stepped-on people created within them even more hope than when things were going fine. Hope has always been around. ~ Rob Bell

The giant deer took a leap to the downhill side, and then high-stepped around and past me, walking, not running, as if having known all along what decision I would make during this most perfect of days in one of the most perfect seasons, and situated perfectly and halfway between who I used to be and who I was on my way to becoming. ~ Anthony Licata

The corporate system is interconnected and now share a common invested interest, the ability to control through business, the people. It is an inevitable path the parameters set will take the beast down following the easiest way to collective profits, to control the ones that provide them. It is also logical to protect your own, from ones that are shedding light through Art on the grey water they may have stepped into to reach their fullest profit potentials. It is the logical solution to what would be, just business. So the Matrix story albeit written to lift for all the ceiling of what is possible, has inevitably shined a light on the entire path that was chosen and the pre-chosen road ahead that collective corporations were on creating a separate state of politically connected elite and those seeking award through serving them. A natural progression of what was set in place from the beginning. The flaw was in the design of the collective corporate system, globally intertwined now, and immersed in politics, protecting its own, making the question real this time, how to balance the equation. ~ Tom Althouse

After one last kiss, she stepped away, wrapping his jacket tightly around her. "I'm keeping the coat."
"Okay."
"I'm going to wear it to bed."
"Okay."
"With nothing on underneath it."
Winking, she slipped inside, leaving him on the porch with that mental image ringing through his head. ~ J.M. Darhower

Duchess was barking her head off as she raced after a snarling, hissing, yowling white ball of Maleficent. Aphrodite was chasing after the dog, screaming for her to 'Come! Stay. Be good, damnit!' Damien was close behind her, flailing his arms and yelling 'Duchess! Come!' All of a sudden the Twins' cat, the huge and very stuck-up Beelzebub joined in the chase, only he was tearing around after Duchess.
'Ohmygod! Beelzebub! Honey!' Shaunee ran into my view, yelling at the top of her very healthy lungs.
'Beelzebub! Duchess! Stop!' Erin wailed, right behind her twin.
Darius suddenly burst out into the hallway, and I stepped back behind the curtains, not sure is my shrouding could be detected by him. Apparently he didn't notice me, or anything else, because he ran into the Council Room. I peeked through the drapes and could hear him telling Neferet that she was needed on the school grounds-that there was an 'altercation.' Then Neferet was hurrying out of the room and down the hall, following Darius into the dog-barking, cat-yowling, kid-screaming craziness.
I noticed that through all of it I hadn't seen hide nor hair of Jack.
Talk about an excellent diversion! ~ Kristin Cast

I suspect it is simply a feature of being an adult, what I will call being grown, or a grown person, to have endured some variety of thorough emotional turmoil, to have made your way to the brink, and, if you're lucky, to have stepped back from it - if not permanently, then for some time, or time to time. Then it is, too, a kind of grownness by which I see three squares of light on my wall, the shadow of a tree trembling in two of them, and hear the train going by and feel no panic or despair, feel no sense of condemnation or doom or horrible align- ment, but simply observe the signs - light and song - for what they are - light and song. And, knowing what I have felt before, and might feel again, feel a sense of relief, which is cousin to, or rather, water to, delight. ~ Ross Gay

Come on, asshole," Paul said as he stepped onto the porch. "Come make me cry - I dare ya. ~ Kele Moon

Angie was a border crosser, a wetback, a worker in the immigrant sweatshop they call this city. On days like this I understand her like a woman instead of a child. Everybody thought she was a whore. She wasn't. She tried to step across the border of who she was and who she might be. They wouldn't let her. She didn't believe it herself so she stepped across into a whole other country. ~ Dionne Brand

Elizabeth?" Ian said in a clipped voice.
She whirled around, her heart slamming against her ribs, her hand flying to her throat, her knees turning to jelly.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"You-you startled me," she said as he strolled up to her, his expression oddly impassive. "I didn't expect you to come here," she added nervously.
"Really?" he mocked. "Whom did you expect after that note-the Prince of Wales?"
The note! Crazily, her first thought after realizing ti was from him, not Valerie, was that for an articulate man his handwriting verged on the illiterate. Her second thought was that he seemed angry about something. He didn't keep her long in doubt as to the reason.
"Suppose you tell me how, during the entire afternoon we spent together, you neglected to mention that you are Lady Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth wondered a little frantically how he'd feel if he knew she was the Countess of Havenhurst, not merely the eldest daughter of some minor noble or knight.
"Start talking, love. I'm listening."
Elizabeth backed away a step.
"Since you don't want to talk," he bit out, reaching for her arms, "is this all you wanted from me?"
"No!" she said hastily, backing out of his reach. "I'd rather talk."
He stepped forward, and Elizabeth took another step backward, exclaiming, "I mean, there are so many interesting topics for conversation, are there not?"
"Are there?" he asked, moving forward again.
"Yes," she exclaimed, ta ~ Judith McNaught

Having grown up in a segregated environment in the south I know what it's like to be stepped on, I know what it's like also to see some black hero do well in the face of adversity. ~ Arthur Ashe

It was then that I sprang my surprise. Oh, what a dreamy pet! She walked up to the open suitcase as if stalking it from afar, at a kind of slow-motion walk, peering at that distant treasure box on the luggage support. (Was there something wrong, I wondered, with those great gray eyes of hers, or were we both plunged in the same enchanted mist?) She stepped up to it, lifting her rather high-heeled feet rather high, and bending her beautiful boy-knees while she walked through dilating space with the lentor of one walking under water or in a flight dream. ~ Vladimir Nabokov

People like Eunice just never had quite figured out how to get along in the world. They might be perfectly intelligent, but they were subject to speckles and flushes; their purses resembled wastepaper baskets; they stepped on their own skirts. ~ Anne Tyler

Look, you've been really sweet since you stepped through that door. Well, apart from telling Mal about me puking on you. That was unnecessary. But in the preceding twenty-four hours you dumped me alone in a room, went off with a groupie, accused me of trying to get it on with your brother and sicced your posse of lawyers onto me. [Evelyn] ~ Kylie Scott

Then you showed up on my doorstep, all good-looking and bleeding and..."

We were in front of my door now. He stepped up and draped his hand on the door above me. Leaned in just a fraction shy of intimate distance. Close enough I could feel the heat of him, smell the warm notes of the cologne he wore.

"Good-looking and what?" he asked with a burr in his voice that gave me shivers.
"And I couldn't leave you bleeding."
"For that, I should thank you." He moved just a half inch closer, his mouth opening slightly on a smile. "Thoroughly," he added. Then, "Unfortunately, I have other pressing matters to attend."

He reached behind me and was skillful enough that we didn't even touch as he opened the door. He leaned back so I wouldn't fall through it by accident and pointed at the room. "I do hope you will refrain from running out for another cup of coffee or starting an in-House war for the next few hours."

(...)"Sure," I said, trying not to sound hot or bothered. "For the next few hours anyway." I smiled innocently. ~ Devon Monk

What are you two doing?" Her uncle's teasing voice came into the room before he did. But his voice was the second warning that they were no longer alone, since Violet had tasted his presence long before he'd actually stepped into her house. Ever since saving her and Jay at Homecoming, her uncle carried an imprint of his own. The bitter taste of dandelions still smoldered on Violet's tongue whenever he was near. A taste that Violet had grown to accept. And even, to some degree, to appreciate. "Nothing your parents wouldn't approve of, I hope," he added.
Violet flashed Jay a wicked grin. "We were just making out, so if you could make this quick, we'd really appreciate it."
Jay jumped up from beside her. "She's kidding," he blurted out. "We weren't doing anything."
Her uncle Stephen stopped where he was and eyed them both carefully. Violet could've sworn she felt Jay squirming, even though every single muscle in his body was frozen in place. Violet smiled at her uncle, trying her best to look guilty-as-charged.
Finally he raised his eyebrows, every bit the suspicious police officer. "Your parents asked me to stop by and check on you on my way home. They won't be back until late. Can I trust the two of you here . . . alone?"
"Of course you can - " Jay started to say.
"Probably not - " Violet answers at the same time. And then she caught a glimpse of the horror-stricken expression on Jay's face, and she laughed. "Relax, Uncle Stephen, we're fine. We ~ Kimberly Derting

He started to dance. And all at once, because Cole was dancing, I was dancing. And this Cole was even more persuasive than the last one. This was everything about Cole's smile made into a real thing, a physical object made out of his hands looped around me, and his long body pushed up against mine. I loved to dance, but I'd always been aware that I was dancing, aware of what my body was doing. Now, with this music thumping and Cole dancing with me, everything became invisible but the music. I was invisible. My hips were the booming bass. My hands on Cole were the wails of the synthesizer. My body was nothing but the hard, pulsing beat of the track.

My thoughts were flashes in between the downbeats.

beat:

my hand pressed on Cole's stomach

beat:

our hips crushed together

beat:

Cole's laugh

beat:

we were one person

Even knowing that Cole was good at this because it was what he did didn't make it any less of an amazing thing. Plus, he wasn't trying to be amazing without me--every move of his body was to make us move together. There was no ego, just the music and our bodies.

When the track ended, Cole stepped back, out of breath, half a smile on his face. I couldn't see how he could stop. I wanted to dance until I couldn't stand up. I wanted to crush our bodies against each other until there was no pulling them apart.

"You're an addiction," I to ~ Maggie Stiefvater

My mouth dropped open. Oh my God, it was like having a conversation with a ruder Tink. Who, by the way, was practically shimmying with excitement as he leaned in, whispering into my ear. "I like this guy. I really like him. Can I keep him?"
The Summer Prince heard him, and interest sparked in his pale blue eyes. "I've never been kept by a brownie before, but … I've heard things. Interesting things."
I so needed an adult right now, but the adults were all staring at the ceiling, pretending like a live version of Fae Tinder wasn't going down right in front of us.
Tink straightened. "Do tell."
Fabian stepped toward us. "Is it true that a brownie's co - "
"Okay," Ren stepped in, apparently to Tanner's relief by the look on his face. "Let's get back on topic. You were talking about how Ivy isn't a special snowflake. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

Never mind about me," she said quickly. "As long as Audrey is happy, that will be enough."
Malcolm stepped closer, shaking his head. "Never let it be enough, lass. People like us, we have to snatch up our happiness as soon as we find it. And not let go."
He lifted her hand to his mouth, his breath burning the skin on the inside of her wrist as he took a tiny bite.
Mary's heart nearly stopped beating. She'd never felt anything like it, the scrape of teeth on sensitive skin, the fire that plunged straight from there to the join of her legs.
Malcolm looked at her, his mouth still at her wrist, the wickedness in his eyes stealing what was left on her breath. He took another little bite, then another. He worked his way up her arm until he stopped by the lace at her elbow.
Malcolm lifted his head. He transferred his fingertips to her cheek, caressing there before he skimmed down her throat to the tops of her breasts. He stood so close now that the rise of his chest touched hers.
Just when Mary thought he would stop, finished, Malcolm leaned to take his lips along the path his fingers had- cheek, throat, breasts. Mary's head went back, her body rising to his mouth, whether she willed it or no.
"You'll ruin me," she whispered.
Malcolm studied her, his amber-colored gaze intense. "Marry me, lass, and I'll ruin ye every day. ~ Jennifer Ashley

You don't know what it means to be betrayed!
Should I explain it to you? It means to be treated like trash and your feelings get stepped on ...
you get hurt over and over again and in the end you are left alone!
Can't you see how much I care for you? How hard I'm trying to connect with you?
When did I ever betray you?
When did I ever leave you alone? ~ Yuuki Obata

What I wanted to talk to you about was - "
He kissed me. At first he gently touched his lips to mine. e more exciting development was that in order to do this, he'd stepped very close. His chest was an inch
from mine. I could feel his heat. He tasted of blackberries. He leaned even closer and braced his muscular arms on the tree on either side of me.
When he broke the kiss to take a breath, I whispered, "Tree hugger."
He opened his eyes, blue as the afternoon sky, and gave me this look. A combination of amusement and exasperation and hunger. He looked like a teenager making out
in the woods. Puzzling through this, I realized that I was gazing at him from the perspective of a six-year-old girl playing army and dodging rubber snakes.
But he was this teenager, and so was I. I felt the same need for him that he felt for me, like a force was drawing me forward into his heat. I just didn't know how to say
it. ~ Jennifer Echols

Said. "I'm fine. I have a granola bar," Ifemelu said. She had some baby carrots in a Ziploc, too, although all she had snacked on so far was her melted chocolate. "What bar?" Aisha asked. Ifemelu showed her the bar, organic, one hundred percent whole grain with real fruit. "That not food!" Halima scoffed, looking away from the television. "She here fifteen years, Halima," Aisha said, as if the length of years in America explained Ifemelu's eating of a granola bar. "Fifteen? Long time," Halima said. Aisha waited until Mariama left before pulling out her cell phone from her pocket. "Sorry, I make quick call," she said, and stepped outside. Her face had brightened when ~ Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

As the Dauphine stepped out of her carriage on to the ceremonial carpet that had been laid down, it was the Duc de Choiseul who was given the privilege of the first salute. Presented with the Duc by Prince Starhemberg, Marie Antoinette exclaimed: 'I shall never forget that you are responsible for my happiness! ~ Antonia Fraser

He walked to the exit, skirting the pools of vapor light purely out of habit, but he saw that the last lamp was unavoidable, because it was set directly above the exit gate. So he saved himself a further perimeter diversion by walking through the next-to-last pool of light, too. At which point a woman stepped out of the shadows. She came toward him with a distinctive burst of energy, two fast paces, eager, like she was pleased to see him. Her body language was all about relief. Then it wasn't. Then it was all about disappointment. She stopped dead, and she said, "Oh." She was Asian. But not petite. Five-nine, maybe, or even five-ten. And built to match. Not a bone in sight. No kind of a willowy waif. She was about forty, Reacher guessed, with black hair worn long, jeans and a T-shirt under a short cotton coat. She had lace-up shoes on her feet. He said, "Good evening, ma'am." She was looking past his shoulder. He said, "I'm the only passenger. ~ Lee Child

He stepped close to her; she could feel his breath on her neck. "Eve, you make me not want to die."
She turned to see his face. "I didn't want to be this, and now it's all I am."
He put his hands on her cheeks. The look on his face did her in. He was kind, caring, and mourning her losses. Tears wet his cheeks. Eve felt a very deep sob choke her. If he was mourning, so could she.
He pulled her into his arms. "Cry. It's okay. Cry."
Eve felt her knees give. He caught her and carried her to his couch. He petted her hair and let her empty her pain and guilt onto his chest. He kissed the top of her head. For the first time, his actions toward her seemed to have no sexual intent whatsoever.
Eve let go of a rope she'd clung to for too long. And she fell. She fell right into him. Wrong or right, she gave up judging. Her lips found his, and he kissed her gently, not demanding any more than she was willing to offer. ~ Debra Anastasia

The Doctor. He grabbed hold of Rory's ankle, dragging him protesting out from under the table. 'Rory!' he grinned, wrapping him in an enourmous bear hug that squeezed the breath out of him. 'I've been you!'
'Right,' mumbled Rory.
'You've had a gorgeous time, I bet.'
'Not... especially, no.'
The Doctor stepped back, his eyes were wide and dancing. 'Did you escape from any monsters? Did you set anything on fire? I'm always doing that. Honestly, one minute it's Tell Me Your Plans, the next it's BOOOM! My insurance premiums are terrible... Anyhow, you're all back to normal, yes?'
'Yes.' Rory was ever so tight-lipped.
The Doctor nudged him with his elbow. 'Go on then. What was it like being me? Wasn't it just a bit brilliant? Did it open up your tiny mind?'
Rory looked a little ill. 'It's nice to be me, actually. I'm not a hero... And what was it like being me?' he asked.
The Doctor tugged at his braces, embarrassed. 'Oh, don't apologize - I'm sure I'll get over it. ~ James Goss

The whole island was exactly what a kid growing up in some trailer park
say some dump like Tecumseh Lake, Georgia
would dream about. This kid would turn out all the lights in the trailer while her mom was at work. She'd lie down flat on her back, on the matted-down orange shag carpet in the living room. The carpet smelling like somebody stepped in a dog pile. The orange melted black in spots from cigarette burns. The ceiling was water-stained. she'd fold her arms across her chest, and she could picture life in this kind of place. It would be that time
late at night
when your ears reach out for any sound. When you can see more with your eyes closed than open. The fish skeleton. From the first time she held a crayon, that's what she'd draw. ~ Chuck Palahniuk

I stepped out of the shower and dried my hair, rubbed on body lotion, cleaned my ears. Then to the kitchen to heat up the last of the coffee. Only to discover: no one sitting at the opposite side of the table. Staring at that chair where no one sat, I felt like a tiny child in a De Chirico painting, left behind all alone in a foreign country. ~ Haruki Murakami

Bloody hell," he gasped. "Harry. There's a *knife* in my leg. When did *that* happen?"
"In the duel," I told him. "Don't you remember?"
"I thought you'd stepped on me and sprained my ankle," Ramirez replied. Then he blinked again. "Bloody hell. There's a *knife* in my guts." He peered at them. "And they match. ~ Jim Butcher

The exam results came out on the last day of term. Harry, Ron and Hermione had passed every subject. Harry was amazed that he had got through Potions. He had a shrewd suspicion that Dumbledore had stepped in to stop Snape failing him on purpose. Snape's behaviour towards Harry over the past week had been quite alarming. Harry wouldn't have thought it possible that Snape's dislike for him could increase, but it certainly had done. A muscle twitched unpleasantly at the corner of Snape's thin mouth every time he looked at Harry, and he was constantly flexing his fingers, as though itching to place them around Harry's throat. ~ J.K. Rowling

Emma swallowed. She was remembering Julian, two years ago, standing in the overlapping circles of fire where the parabatai ritual was performed. The look on his face as they each stepped into the central circle and the fire rose up around them, and he unbuttoned his shirt to let her touch the stele to his skin and carve the rune that would bind them together for their whole lives. She knew if she just reached out now, she could touch it, touch the rune cut into his shoulder, the rune she had put there ... ~ Cassandra Clare

The Viscount stepped into the room. "Came to see if you was dead," he said. "Laid Pom odds you weren't."
Lethbridge passed his hand across his eyes. "I'm not," he replied in a faint voice.
"No. I'm sorry," said the Viscount simply. He wandered over to the table and sat down. "Horry said she killed you, Pom said So she might, I said No. Nonsense."
Lethbridge still holding a hand to his aching head tried to pull himself together. "Did you?" he said. His eyes ran over his self invited guest. "I see. Let me assure you once more that I am very much alive."
"Well I wish you'd put your wig on," complained the Viscount. "What I want to know is why did Horry hit you on the head with a poker?"
Lethbridge gingerly felt his bruised scalp. "With a poker was it? Pray ask her, though I doubt if she will tell you."
"You shouldn't keep the front door open," said the Viscount. "What's to stop people coming in and hitting you over the head? It's preposterous."
"I wish you'd go home," said Lethbridge wearily.
The Viscount surveyed the supper-table with a knowing eye.
"Card-party?" he inquired. ~ Georgette Heyer

When that white driver stepped back toward us, when he waved his hand and ordered us up and out of our seats, I felt a determination cover my body like a quilt on a winter night. ~ Rosa Parks

It always confused me how Smalley managed to keep enrolment limited only to Guardian bloodlines. I don't know, maybe she put some charm up that made people think about dead puppies every time they stepped on campus. That's what I would have done, anyway, if I were headmistress. ~ Cecily White

As they left, Eve watched him slide the coffee sleeve off the drink and put it in his pocket.
After they'd walked a few blocks, she questioned him. "Why'd you keep the sleeve?"
Blake pulled out the cardboard and looked down at it. "Just to remember I could do it."
Eve grabbed it from him quickly, ripped it in half, and threw it in a trashcan on the sidewalk. Blake held his hands up and gave her a What the hell? look.
"Don't tie your success to anything other than what's inside you." She stepped up to him and gently patted his heart. "You did this, Blake. You. Not the coffee, not me, not Livia. You did this. ~ Debra Anastasia