Its No Use Raising A Shout Quotes

Here am I, Here are you: but what does it mean? What are we going to do? ~ W.H. Auden

Look, I'm sorry, Jemma. It took me forever to get there, what with all the flooding and everything. And then I was trying to clean stuff up and…well, I guess the time just got away from me."
I try to pull away, but he tightens his grip. "I didn't mean to scare you," he says.
"Well, you did scare me." I manage to pull one hand loose, and I use it to whack him in the chest. "Idiot!"
"I'm fine, okay? I'm here."
"I wish you weren't!" I yell, fired up now. "I wish you were lying in a ditch somewhere!" I stumble backward, my heel catching on the porch's floorboards.
"You don't mean that," Ryder says, sounding hurt.
He's right; I don't. But I don't care if I hurt his feelings. I'm too angry to care. Angry and relieved and pissed off and…and, God, I'm so glad he's okay. I thump his chest one more time in frustration, and then somehow my lips are on his--hungry and demanding and punishing all at once.
I hear him gasp in surprise. His mouth is hot, feverish even, as he kisses me back. The ground seems to tilt beneath my feet. I stagger back toward the door, dragging him with me without breaking the kiss. Ryder's tongue slips between my lips, skimming over my teeth before plunging inside. And…
Oh. My. God. No one's ever kissed me like this. No one. His hands and his tongue and his scent and his body are pressed against mine…It's making me light-headed, dizzy. Electricity seems to skitter across my skin, raising gooseflesh in its wake. I cling to h ~ Kristi Cook

The clever use of media (i.e., TV political ads, image creations and management) kept us from raising or even addressing major problems we face as a nation - our identity, our values, our role as a resource for peace rather than war, for justice rather than its miscarriages, for people rather than corporations, for decency rather than humiliation, and for democracy rather than "hypocracy." Martin Luther King, Jr., stated it well: A true revolution of values will soon look uneasily on the glaring contrast of poverty and wealth. With righteous indignation, it will look across the seas and see individual capitalists of the West investing huge sums of money in Asia, Africa and South America, only to take the profits out with no concern for the social betterment of the countries, and say: "This is not just. . . . ~ Anthony J. Marsella

Come to the bit about soft silk shirts for evening wear?" I asked carelessly.
"Yes, sir," said Jeeves, in a low, cold voice, as if he had been bitten in the leg by a personal friend. "And if I may be pardoned for saying so - "
"You don't like it?"
"No, sir. I do not. Soft silk shirts with evening costume are not worn, sir."
"Jeeves," I said, looking the blighter diametrically in the centre of the eyeball, "they're dashed well going to be. I may as well tell you now that I have ordered a dozen of those shirtings from Peabody and Simms, and it's no good looking like that, because I am jolly well adamant."
"If I might - "
"No, Jeeves," I said, raising my hand, "argument is useless. Nobody has a greater respect than I have for your judgment in socks, in ties, and - I will go farther - in spats; but when it comes to evening shirts your nerve seems to fail you. You have no vision. You are prejudiced and reactionary. Hidebound is the word that suggests itself. It may interest you to learn that when I was at Le Touquet the Prince of Wales buzzed into the Casino one night with soft silk shirt complete."
"His Royal Highness, sir, may permit himself a certain licence which in your own case - "
"No, Jeeves," I said, firmly, "it's no use. When we Woosters are adamant, we are - well, adamant, if you know what I mean."
"Very good, sir."
I could see the man was wounded, and, of course, the whole episode had been extremely jarring and unpleasa ~ P.G. Wodehouse

They caught the sound of footfalls at the same moment, and both stood as a tall figure ran toward them, his blade in hand.

"Stop there, traitor," Sabre said, raising her sling. "Or I'll fell you before you take another step."

"The advantage of a missile weapon," Moria said.

"Exactly. And it appears he has enough experience with yours to respect mine."

"No, he'll only pretend he's listening, as he talks and distracts, and then creeps close enough to use his sword."

"I can hear you," Gavril called.

"Good," Moria said. "Then you can hear that I'm not under any duress, and you can presume that if our visitor was helping me escape, we'd be gone by now, not chatting like girls at a tea ceremony. Since I know you'll not stay where you are, you may approach half the distance, then lay down your sword and come closer."

"May I?"

"Only if you behave. And keep quiet. Otherwise, stay where you are."

"I think you forget who is - "

" - in charge here? No, Kitsune, I do not. I am in charge, because if you do not return with me, you will pay the price. That is why you've accommodated me so far and it's why you'll continue to do so now."

Sabre chuckled. Gavril stalked closer. ~ Kelley Armstrong

But one must remember that they were all men with systems. Freud, monumentally hipped on sex (for which he personally had little use) and almost ignorant of Nature: Adler, reducing almost everything to the will to power: and Jung, certainly the most humane and gentlest of them, and possibly the greatest, but nevertheless the descendant of parsons and professors, and himself a super-parson and a super-professor. all men of extraordinary character, and they devised systems that are forever stamped with that character.… Davey, did you ever think that these three men who were so splendid at understanding others had first to understand themselves? It was from their self-knowledge they spoke. They did not go trustingly to some doctor and follow his lead because they were too lazy or too scared to make the inward journey alone. They dared heroically. And it should never be forgotten that they made the inward journey while they were working like galley-slaves at their daily tasks, considering other people's troubles, raising families, living full lives. They were heroes, in a sense that no space-explorer can be a hero, because they went into the unknown absolutely alone. Was their heroism simply meant to raise a whole new crop of invalids? Why don't you go home and shoulder your yoke, and be a hero too? ~ Robertson Davies

No circumstance would prevent over-population so effectually as a general raising of the customary standard of comfort among the poorer classes. If they had accustomed themselves to a more comfortable style of living, they would use every effort not again to sink below it. ~ Millicent Fawcett

Sit up, join up, get on line, get in touch, find out who's raising hell and join them. No use waiting on a bunch of wussy politicians. ~ Molly Ivins

Stephen Harper is trying to load the dice between now and the next election in his own favour. Never before in the history of Canada has a government tried to use its majority to unilaterally change Canada's election laws with no support from any political party. ~ Thomas Mulcair

We can no longer apply the classic criteria to clearly determine whether and when we should use military force. We are waging war in Afghanistan, for example, but it's an asymmetrical war where the enemies are criminals instead of soldiers. ~ Otto Schily

No zek had the right to stay one second in his workroom without the supervision of a free employee because prudence dictated that the prisoner would be bound to use that unsupervised second to break into the steel safe with a lead pencil, photograph its secret documents with a trouser button, explode an atom bomb, and fly to the moon. ~ Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

Cherish your doubts, for doubt is the handmaiden of truth.
Doubt is the key to the door of knowledge; it is the servant of discovery.
A belief which may not be questioned binds us to error,
for there is incompleteness and imperfection in every belief.
Doubt is the touchstone of truth; it is an acid which eats away the false.
Let no man fear for the truth, that doubt may consume it;
for doubt is a testing of belief.
The truth stands boldly and unafraid; it is not shaken by the testing;
For truth, if it be truth, arises from each testing stronger, more secure.
He that would silence doubt is filled with fear;
the house of his spirit is built on shifting sands.
But he that fears no doubt, and knows its use, is founded on a rock.
He shall walk in the light of growing knowledge;
the work of his hands shall endure.
Therefore let us not fear doubt, but let us rejoice in its help:
It is to the wise as a staff to the blind; doubt is the handmaiden of truth. ~ Robert T. Weston

It's no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then. ~ Lewis Carroll

Creativity is basically a feminine process. I'm convinced that we have in our soul, everybody, this masculine side and this feminine side. So at the end of the day, you always use this feminine creative energy to write or to do any type of art or creativity. So if I see that my protagonist is feminine, it's not more difficult, no. And even when my protagonist is masculine, I'm writing from using this feminine energy. ~ Paulo Coelho

You're an island no matter what you do. I think it's very dangerous to use popularity as your identity in life. So you have to really know who you are inside, the core person, and follow what is true rather than follow what is hype. ~ Donny Osmond

How many understand that Nature is the essencial character of whatever is. It's something you'll find by looking not at, but in, always in. It's always inside the thing, and it makes the outside. And some day, when you get sufficiently proficient in understanding the use of the term, you can tell by the outside pretty much from what's inside.
[ ... ] But everything that's ever going to be of use to you in architecture or in life or anywhere you go or whatever you do is going to be Nature, in some of its immensely varied forms. So varied that there's no end to the variety imaginable.
"Nature" September 7, 1958 ~ Frank Lloyd Wright

What's the use you learning to do right when it's troublesome to do right and ain't no trouble to do wrong, and the wages is just the same? ~ Mark Twain

My paintings are the result of countless small brushstrokes, each one shaded with a different blend of colors, each one with a single, deliberate purpose. Every moment, every day, we are all making something - whether it's science or art, a relationship or a destiny - building it choice by choice, moment by moment. Our decisions shape other people's worlds as well as our own. We are all the center of our own universe and all of use in someone else's orbit. It's a paradox, but sometimes paradoxes are where truth begins.
My father would point out that the Beatles told us all of this decades ago. They one sang that in the end, the love we take is equal to the love we make. No, we can never be in complete control of our fates - we're all vulnerable to accidents, to cruelty, and to the random misfortune of life. But I try to think about how much of it is up to us. We decide what emotions serve as our building blocks, which feelings we'll use to shape our universe. ~ Claudia Gray

It's not complicated: we have no guarantees for the future; we can't rewind the past; we must live in the present. Use the past for wisdom...and the future for inspiration. Live now! ~ Patrick Lindsay

Well, no, Sister Brannigan was the one putting her name on the checks to the cemetery. Someone else was making the deposits into her personal account." "But now that she's gone?" "I suppose the Neapolitan benefactor will have to find someone else if he wants to remain anonymous." Bree snorted, "For a second I thought maybe it might be Bernardo." "Well, why not? I mean, a little bank fraud isn't likely to keep my father up at night," Alessandro said. "But he's in New York," Bree reminded him. "Geography, darling?" Alessandro asked amused. "You say that with such pride it scares me," Bree said rolling her eyes. "I love you too," Alessandro smiled. "But no. If he was, why let us go off on this whole journey?" "It's Bernardo. If there's something I've learned about your father it's that the rules of logic don't apply to him. Or any other kind of rules," Bree added, "Maybe this is all some kind of big elaborate plan and we're gonna go home and find out he's been keeping Francesca and Adriano frozen in his basement in one of those sci-fi freezers that they say you can buy and use to come back to life in a hundred years." Alessandro shook his head at her, not impressed with her sense of humour. ~ E. Jamie

My approach to photograph is kept simple, almost routine. All work, good and bad, is documented. I use standard film, a standard lens and no filters. Each work grows, strays, decays-integral parts of a cycle which the photograph shows at its height, marking the moment when the work is most alive. There is an intensity about a work at its peak that I hope is expresses in the image. Process and decay are implicit. ~ Andy Goldsworthy

You'll be going back to Tokyo before much longer," Midorikawa quietly stated. "And you'll return to real life. You need to live life to the fullest. No matter how shallow and dull things might get, this life is worth living. I guarantee it. And I'm not being either ironic or paradoxical. It's just that, for me, what's worthwhile in life has become a burden, something I can't shoulder anymore. Maybe I'm just not cut out for it. So, like a dying cat, I've crawled into a quiet, dark place, silently waiting for my time to come. It's not so bad. But you're different. You should be able to handle what life sends your way. You need to use the thread of logic, as best as you can, to skillfully sew onto yourself everything that's worth living for. ~ Haruki Murakami

No matter how many boxes people try to put you in, as long as you know yourself, you'll be fine in the end.
And you may have to play by their rules, put up with their labels and use their terms – I've done so all my life – but it's what you believe that matters most. ~ Krista Ritchie

What I mean - and I ought to know if any one does! - is that while most countries give, others take away. Egypt changes you. No one can live here and remain exactly what he was before."
This puzzled me. It startled, too, again. His manner was so earnest. "And Egypt, you mean, is one of the countries that take away?" I asked. The strange idea unsettled my thoughts a little.
"First takes away from you," he replied, "but in the end takes you away. Some lands enrich you," he went on, seeing that I listened, "while others impoverish. From India, Greece, Italy, all ancient lands, you return with memories you can use. From Egypt you return with - nothing. Its splendour stupefies; it's useless. There is a change in your inmost being, an emptiness, an unaccountable yearning, but you find nothing that can fill the lack you're conscious of. Nothing comes to replace what has gone. You have been drained.'
I stared; but I nodded a general acquiescence. Of a sensitive, artistic temperament this was certainly true, though by no means the superficial and generally accepted verdict. The majority imagine that Egypt has filled them to the brim. I took his deeper reading of the facts. I was aware of an odd fascination in his idea.
"Modern Egypt," he continued, "is, after all, but a trick of civilisation," and there was a kind of breathlessness in his measured tone, "but ancient Egypt lies waiting, hiding, underneath. Though dead, she is amazingly alive. And you feel her ~ Charles Robert Maturin

No legal tender law is ever needed to make men take good money; its only use is to make them take bad money. ~ Steven T. Byington

So...like, you're lyin' on the battlefield with an arrow for a decoration, and everybody homes in on it like a beacon and they start pryin' it out WHILE you're conscious, and you're thinkin' "Ahh! Don't trouble yourselves, just leave it in there for goodness' sake! I got it first, it's mine! Don't touch it! I can use it to hang stuff on and--aahh!" And then when you finally faint from all the pain, they shake you and shout your name and try to wake you up, and you're thinkin' "Heeeeeeell no, I ain't comin' back to that! Why d'you think I fainted in the first place?!" Then they get all frantic-like and such and start hollerin' "Don't die on me, man!" and you're thinkin' "The only one gonna die here is you if you don't quit shaking me! ~ Jason

The One in India has got to be the same as the One in Greece. If it's not, you've got two. The only disagreements among the monists concern the attributes of the One, not the One itself. Since the One is the source of all things and includes all things in it, it cannot be defined in terms of those things, since no matter what thing you use to define it, the thing will always describe something less than the One itself. ~ Robert M. Pirsig

When I was a kid, growing up during the 1970s, I used to read a lot of horror and science fiction. I graduated from comic books to paperbacks around the time I first entered my teens. And I want to say that what 99% of that stuff tells you about supposed encounters with the unknown is a formulaic convention. No one faints like a chicken-shit or else reaches for their weapon like Arnie Schwarzenegger in the face of something so utterly terrifying there isn't even a name for it. What those writers don't know is what happens in an encounter with the outside is this: that the moment slows down to such an extent that time itself simply stands still in your head. I suppose that fact doesn't make for good characterisation. It's incommunicable. I think they call it the numinous.

I once did a semester in creative writing back after graduating, around the decade King was outselling every other author on the planet, but could never make the grade. Still, I read a lot of the best attempts. Maybe that's why someone like Lovecraft, or Machen, or one of the old-school writers of that stuff I used to read had almost pulled it off. They were no good at characterisation and tended to use ciphers, presenting the phenomenon itself as the main protagonist, because it was the way things are when you encounter it. The thing empties you, draining out any semblance of normalcy, no matter what your history is, or what you think you're all about. Real horror consists not of the worst thing i ~ Mark Samuels

I suspect they needed to know that there was an enemy who hated them and wanted them dead, because the opposite--that there was no grand, evil scheme against them, merely that the world was a massive, complex organism that perhaps had little use for them--was too terrifying to bear. It reminded me of the Elie Wiesel quote" "The opposite of love is not hate, its indifference." Hatred they could deal with, indifference was horrifying. SO rather than being insignificant ciphers in a vast and demeaning world, they became feared partisans in an existential struggle. ~ Vegas Tenold

My closet and I are on my own. My closet is of no use to me. It may actually be laughing at me. It's true, I hear it. ~ Katja Millay

I am so in favor of the actual infinite that instead of admitting that Nature abhors it, as is commonly said, I hold that Nature makes frequent use of it everywhere, in order to show more effectively the perfections of its Author. Thus I believe that there is no part of matter which is not - I do not say divisible - but actually divisible; and consequently the least particle ought to be considered as a world full of an infinity of different creatures. ~ Georg Cantor

It's like my grandpa always used to say, 'A butter knife would make a deadlier weapon than a melting stick of butter.'"


"Your grandpa never said that."


"No, but he should have. He was a damn fool not to have uttered those words."


"My grandpa was a janitor, in the Great Depression. The greatest thing he ever said was, 'Greg, I just Gregged all over your floor. Do you have a mop I can use to clean it up?'"


"Who's Greg?"


"I don't know."


"What the shit kind of story is that? That story is bullshit. Greg doesn't exist. Nobody knows nobody named Greg. It's a unicorn name - it's complete mythology."


"What about Lou Greg, the baseball player?"


"Lou who? Lou Gehrig?"


"Here's a Lou for you. Greg Louganis."


"Bah, Greg Louganis doesn't exist. He was a myth created by the Soviets to push their divers to perfection. The Russians realized they couldn't be the best until they deceived their divers into believing there was someone who was always better."


"I've seen Greg Louganis, and he's as real as you or me."


"You've seen what they wanted you to see. They gave you a blindfold to wear and convinced you it would improve your eyesight." ~ Jarod Kintz

My determination is not to remain stubbornly with my ideas but I'll leave them and go over to others as soon as I am shown plausible reason which I can grasp. This is the more true since I have no other purpose than to place truth before my eyes so far as it is in my power to embrace it; and to use the little talent I have received to draw the world away from its old heathenish superstitions and to go over to the truth and to stick to it. ~ Antonie Van Leeuwenhoek

But Charlie and I have a very special relationship and I wanted to let her know I was home. Don't worry, I'm not one of those crazy cat ladies. I just like my favorite cat to know I'm home so we can talk, have dinner together, and watch Hoarders.
I assumed she was in our master bathroom because that's where the cats like to hang out when we're not home. They record most of their "cute kitty with loofah" YouTube videos in there.
Now, in order to let her know I was home I could have walked to the bathroom or yelled for her, which is what I usually do. But for some reason in that day I did something else. We have an intercom where I can push a button and talk to someone in another room. Sometimes it's fun to use when we have company. I'll get on it from a different part of the house and whisper stuff like, "Is there anything you ever really wanted to tell God? I'm listening." Oh, we have fun.
Anyway, I got on the intercom and I said, "Charlie, I'm home! Charlie!" and I hung up and I waited for Charlie to come running. I didn't think anything of it until I looked over and Portia was staring at me.
She said, "Did you just intercom the cat?"
And I looked at her and I had no choice but to say, "Yes. I did just intercom the cat."
In my defense, I was very tired and if I wanted to walk all the way to the bathroom to find Charlie I would have had to get on my Segway, ride it to the escalator, take the escalator to the third floor, cross the champagne fou ~ Ellen DeGeneres

Fate has always been the realm of the gods, though even the gods are subject to it.
In ancient Greek mythology, the Three Sisters of Fate spin out a person's destiny within three nights of their birth. Imagine your newborn child in his nursery. It's dark and soft and warm, somewhere between two and four a.m., one of those hours that belong exclusively to the newly born or the dying.
The first sister - Clotho - appears next to you. She's a maiden, young and smooth. In her hands she holds a spindle, and on it she spins the thrads of your child's life.
Next to her is Lachesis, older and more matronly than her sister. In her hands, she holds the rod used to mesure the thread of life. The length and destiny of your child's life is in her hands.
Finally we have Atropos - old, haggardly. Inevitable. In her hands she holds the terrible shears she'll use to cut the thread of your child's life. She determines the time and manner of his or her death.
Imagine the awesome and awful sight of these three sisters pressed together, presiding over his crib, dermining his future.
In modern times, the sisters have largely disappeared from the collective consiousness, but the idea of Fate hasn't. Why do we still believe? Does itmake tragedy more bearable to believe that we ourselves had no hand in it, that we couldn't have prevented it? It was always ever thus.
Things happen for a reason, says Natasha's mother. What she means is Fate has a Reason and, though yo ~ Nicola Yoon

Imagine you had a bank that each morning credited your account with $1,440 - with one condition: whatever part of the $1,440 you failed to use during the day would be erased from your account, and no balance would be carried over. What would you do? You'd draw out every cent every day and use it to your best advantage. Well, you do have such a bank, and its name is time. Every morning, this bank credits you with 1,440 minutes. And it writes off as forever lost whatever portion you have failed to invest to good purpose. ~ Ann Landers

There is no irritant as painful as an ace up your sleeve that you can never use; it's the kind of thing that causes oysters to produce pearls. ~ Sheila Ballantyne

You know, I've always thought that we don't have enough words for love. Or maybe it's that we don't use the words we have. For instance, infatuation. No one ever says, 'I'm so infatuated.' Which, if you think about it is the first stage of a relationship. Infatuation. ~ Marshall Thornton

I was born in New York City, along with a twin sister. I am five minutes older than Emily. It was Emily, for reasons no one knows - she certainly doesn't - who called me Avi. It stuck. It's the only name I use now. ~ Avi

No matter how entertaining, diverse, concise, or detailed, a writing craft book is, it's not going to work magic on you, it's not going to suddenly make you a brilliant writer simply by reading it. You need to use what you read and learn in your own writing. Because that's when you have those AHA moments. That's when it really sticks. ~ Jessica Bell

Is it the lumberman, then, who is the friend and lover of the pine, stands nearest to it, and understands its nature best? Is it the tanner who has barked it, or he who has boxed it for turpentine, whom posterity will fable to have been changed into a pine at last? No! no! it is the poet: he it is who makes the truest use of the pine-who does not fondle it with an axe, nor tickle it with a saw, nor stroke it with a plane ... ~ Henry David Thoreau

So you make this deal with the gods. You do these dances and they'll send rain and good crops and the whole works? And nothing bad will ever happen. Right.' Prayer had always struck me as more or less a glorified attempt at a business transaction. A rain dance even more so.
I thought I might finally have offended Loyd past the point of no return, like stealing the lobster from frozen foods that time, to get myself fired. But Loyd was just thinking. After a minute he said, 'No, it's not like that. It's not making a deal, bad things can still happen, but you want to try not to cause them to happen. It has to do with keeping things in balance.'
In balance.'
Really, it's like the spirits have made a deal with us.'
And what is the deal?' I asked.
We're on our own. The spirits have been good enough to let us live here and use the utilities, and we're saying: We know how nice you're being. We appreciate the rain, we appreciate the sun, we appreciate the deer we took. Sorry if we messed up anything. You've gone to a lot of trouble, and we'll try to be good guests.'
Like a note you'd send somebody after you stayed in their house?'
Exactly like that. 'Thanks for letting me sleep on your couch. I took some beer out of the refrigerator, and I broke a coffee cup. Sorry, I hope it wasn't your favorite one. ~ Barbara Kingsolver

It is love. I will have to run or hide.

The walls of its prison rise up, as in a twisted dream. The beautiful mask has changed, but as always it is the one. Of what use are my talismans: the literary exercises, the vague erudition, the knowledge of words used by the harsh North to sing its seas and swords, the temperate friendship, the galleries of the Library, the common things, the habits, the young love of my mother, the militant shadow of my dead, the timeless night, the taste of dreams?

Being with you or being without you is the measure of my time.

Now the pitcher breaks about the spring, now the man arises to the sound of birds, now those that watch at the windows have gone dark, but the darkness has brought no peace.

It, I know, is love: the anxiety and the relief at hearing your voice, the expectation and the memory, the horror of living in succession.

It is love with its mythologies, with its tiny useless magics.

There exists a corner that I dare not cross.

Now the armies confine me, the hordes.

(This room is unreal; she has not seen it.)

The name of a woman gives me away.

A woman hurts me in all of my body. ~ Jorge Luis Borges