Knob Quotes

I love my dad. He used to walk around the whole neighborhood and collect old furniture and fix it, like MacGyver with duct tape. One time, he brought a television home. I said, 'Damn, that TV has 500 channels.' When I got older, it didn't have 500 channels - it was a knob from the oven. My favorite channel was 300 degrees. ~ Felipe Esparza

Oh, hello there, my name's Ozzy Osbourne, and I've been bonking groupies for a couple of months, and I think my knob might be about to fall off, would you mind terribly giving me a shot of penicillin to make sure my missus doesn't get whatever I've got? ~ Anonymous

you've got to jiggle the knob hard then bump with your hip."
A low cackle of laughter sounded from the other side of the door. "That's what he said. What? Hold on a sec. I got this. ~ Louisa Edwards

I reached for the knob. At the same moment it began to melt and transform, turning pink and finally taking the shape of a flaccid penis. It flopped softly against the door, like a man was cramming it through the knob hole from the other side.
I turned back to John and said, 'That door cannot be opened. ~ David Wong

It is hard eating a little kangaroo knob. ~ Karl Pilkington

"You see, I do a little in this way myself," he explained; "here is my most prized piece." He took from his pocket a snuffbox, which looked to be of eighteenth-century workmanship. Inside the lid was an enamel picture of Leda and the Swan, and when a knob was pushed to and fro the swan thrust itself between Leda's legs, which jerked in mechanical ecstasy. A nasty toy, I thought, but Urky doted on it. "We single gentlemen like to have these things," he said. "What do you do, Darcourt? Of course we know that Hollier has his beautiful Maria."
To my astonishment Hollier blushed, but said nothing. His beautiful Maria? My Miss Theotoky, of New Testament Greek? I didn't like it at all. ~ Robertson Davies

You push a button and it goes all over the world and on Sunday people are saying, 'Oh, I binge watched all 10 of them. Where's more?' and you go oh, the world has changed. It's not my dad walking to the television set and turning a knob to Ed Sullivan. ~ Jeffrey Tambor

With that Nox turned a knob. There was a delay, but that was how the machine worked. First it gathered information about the subject, feeling, sensing - like a fighter in a ring, circling his opponent.
Kaleb sensed it, too. It was as if a doctor palpated his flesh, pushing his skin. It tingled gently. The tingling surged through his whole body. Was this it? Kaleb thought. Visions from his past shot through his brain. His mother. Father. Zenobia. Joan and Reck. The Three Musketeers. Pleasant memories.
Then the machine found what it searched for, and it acted. Waves of pain shot through his entire body, causing him to arch his back. He screamed in agony, his screams reverberating across the canyon. Then all of his muscles constricted. He couldn't breathe, couldn't even scream. It seemed to last forever. It stopped, and his muscles relaxed, allowing him to breath. ~ Cate Campbell Beatty

...Sonja had to switch off. She turned down that knob in her brain that let her take in the world at full blast... ~ Dorthe Nors

But when I reached for the knob, it wouldn't turn. The lock was on the outside. Who ever heard of the lock for a door being on the outside? It would be up to another, possibly a total and complete stranger, to decide whether you'd ever be allowed to leave. ~ Alexandra Kleeman

So when the world knocks at your front door,
clutch the knob and open on up,
running forward into its widespread greeting arms
with your hands before you,
fingertips trembling though they may be. ~ Anis Mojgani

There is nothing in back of this cafe. Since the place sits right on the margin between the edge of the world and infinite possibility, he back door opens out to a void. It takes courage to turn the knob and heart to leave the steps. ~ Gloria Naylor

I hope you like big men, sweetness." My eyes dropped reflexively back to the hand still moving rhythmically between his legs; the blunt knob playing hide and seek as he lazily palmed himself. "Think you can handle all this? I guess we'll find out soon enough 'cause you're getting this cock, all of it, and you're gonna take every fucking inch. ~ Candace Vianna

Despite the landlord's disapproval, the sweltering heat, the gloomy rooms, and the cacophony of strange noises, so unfamiliar to my country ears, I felt another swell of hope. As I looked around our four rooms, it did seem that we were off to a fresh start, having left behind the many hardships of life in Kinvara: the damp that sank into our bones, the miserable, cramped hut, our father's drinking - did I mention that? - that threw every small gain into peril. Here, our da had the promise of a job. We could pull a chain for light; the twist of a knob brought running water. Just outside the door, in a dry hallway, a toilet and bathtub. However modest, this was a chance for a new beginning. ~ Christina Baker Kline

Grinning, she hovered over him. Then, like a fist closing around a doorknob, her grin closed around him. With her lips, she turned the knob first one way and then the other: left, right, open, shut; left, right, open, shut. The knob did not squeak. In fact, Wiggs was unusually quiet.

Now, falling into rhythm, she sucked the knob from its axle, sucked the axle from its door, the door from its hinges. Out onto the lawn, tempo increasing, she sucked up the flagstone walk, the rosebushes, the petunia bed, the sprinkler, the driveway, and the small Japanese car parked in the driveway: oh, what a feeling! Toyota! Wiggs moaned as the neighborhood disappeared.

The towers of the city began to sway, and soon, the planet itself fell victim to the force, swelling at its equator, throbbing at its poles. It wobbled violently on its axis, once, twice, then exploded. The Big Bang theory, proven at last. Continuing to impersonate a black hole, she pulled in every drop and particle – she'd never had a man in such entirety – and it wasn't until the final spasm had subsided and the cosmos was at peace that she loosened her grip and, lips glistening like the Milky Way, looked up to see – the legs of a third party standing there. ~ Tom Robbins

I go in on your arm and we separate. To make me look unavailable, since Vlad likes what he can't have, I play dumb blonde and make myself sexy." I glared as Adam barked with laughter at my words."No going off of the plan, when he takes you in the back room - and he will, you work the information out of him without blowing your cover, or him." I shot the glare to Ryder. "I have no intention of bobbing on Vlad's knob. Or yours." I tossed into remove the wide smirk my response had given him and it worked. ~ Amelia Hutchins

I do not know who lives here in my chest, or why the smile comes. I am not myself, more the bare green knob of a rose that lost every leaf and petal to the morning wind. ~ Rumi

Gray froze as Miss Turner emerged from the hold. For weeks, she'd plagued him-by day, he suffered glimpses of her beauty; by night, he was haunted by memories of her touch. And just when he thought he'd finally wrangled his desire into submission, today she'd ruined everything.
She'd gone and changed her dress.
Gone was that serge shroud, that forbidding thundercloud of a garment that had loomed in his peripheral vision for weeks. Today, she wore a cap-sleeved frock of sprigged muslin.
She stepped onto the deck, smiling face tilted to the wind. A flower opening to greet the sun. She bobbed on her toes, as though resisting the urge to make a girlish twirl. The pale, sheer fabric of her dress billowed and swelled in the breeze, pulling the undulating contour of calf, thigh, hip into relief.
Gray thought she just might be the loveliest creature he'd ever seen.
Therefore, he knew he ought to look away.
He did, for a moment. He made an honest attempt to scan the horizon for clouds. He checked the hour on his pocket watch, wound the small knob one, two, three, four times. He wiped a bit of salt spray from its glass face. He thought of England. And France, and Cuba, and Spain. He remembered his brother, his sister, and his singularly ugly Aunt Rosamond, on whom he hadn't clapped eyes in decades. And all this Herculean effort resulting in nothing but a fine sheen of sweat on his brow and precisely thirty seconds' delay in the inevitable.
He looked a ~ Tessa Dare

When they rolled to a stop, she found herself pinned by a tremendous, huffing weight. And pierced by an intense green gaze.
"Wh-?" Her breath rushed out in question.
Boom, the world answered.
Susanna ducked her head, burrowing into the protection of what she'd recognized to be an officer's coat. The knob of a brass button pressed into her cheek. The man's bulk formed a comforting shield as a shower of dirt clods rained down on them both. He smelled of whiskey and gunpowder.
After the dust cleared, she brushed the hair from his brow, searching his gaze for signs of confusion or pain. His eyes were alert and intelligent, and still that startling shade of green-as hard and richly hued as jade.
She asked, "Are you well?"
"Yes." His voice was a deep rasp. "Are you?"
She nodded, expecting him to release her at the confirmation. When he showed no signs of moving, she puzzled at it. Either he was gravely injured or seriously impertinent. "Sir, you're…er, you're rather heavy." Surely he could not fail to miss that hint.
He replied, "You're soft."
Good Lord. Who was this man? Where had he come from? And how was he still atop her?
"You have a small wound." With trembling fingers, she brushed a reddish knot high on his temple, near his hairline. "Here." She pressed her hand to his throat, feeling for his pulse. She found it, thumping strong and steady against her gloved fingertips.
"Ah. That's nice."
Her face blazed with heat. " ~ Tessa Dare

Wild!" Ron said, twiddling the replay knob on the side. "I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again ... and again ... and again ... ~ J.K. Rowling

Joe's blue eyes turned a little watery; he rubbed first one of them, and then the other, in a most uncongenial and uncomfortable manner, with the round knob on the top of the poker. ~ Charles Dickens

In his heart he knows first isn't touching a door knob, or getting to sit in the front row seat by the window, or making it up to the road before everybody else. First is something deep down inside you that you know and feel and nobody can take away from you ~ Phoebe Stone

I pissed away over ten million dollars
On dope and crack
I passed away deader than a door knob
But now I'm back ~ Al Jourgensen

Don't you wish there was a knob on the TV to turn up the intelligence? There's one marked 'Brightness,' but it doesn't work. ~ Gallagher

I learned to baby the rabbit in sour cream, tenderer than chicken and less forgiving of distraction, as well as the banosh the way the Italians did polenta. You had to mix in the cornmeal little by little while the dairy simmered - Oksana boiled the cornmeal in milk and sour cream, never water or stock - as it clumped otherwise, which I learned the hard way. I learned to curdle and heat milk until it became a bladder of farmer cheese dripping out its whey through a cheesecloth tied over the knob of a cabinet door; how to use the whey to make a more protein-rich bread; how to sear pucks of farmer cheese spiked with raisins and vanilla until you had breakfast. I learned patience for the pumpkin preserves - stir gently to avoid turning the cubes into puree, let cool for the runoff to thicken, repeat for two days. How to pleat dumplings and fry cauliflower florets so that half the batter did not remain stuck to the pan. To marinate the peppers Oksana made for my grandfather on their first day together. To pickle watermelon, brine tomatoes, and even make potato latkes the way my grandmother made them. ~ Boris Fishman

Kids have little computer bodies with disks that store information. They remember who had to do the dishes the last time you had spaghetti, who lost the knob off the TV set six years ago, who got punished for teasing the dog when he wasn't teasing the dog and who had to wear girls boots the last time it snowed. ~ Erma Bombeck

Where were you?" she asked before he turned the knob. He paused, and she clarified: "I came to the cottage last week to find you, to tell you about Reading, but you weren't there. Where were you?"
He glanced back at her. "You'll have to be more specific."
"Tuesday," she said. "I searched for a hint . . . waited, but you never came. I left the note on your windowsill."
A small smile touched his lips - almost a sheepish smile, of all things. Ceony had never before seen such an expression on his face. "Just out for a stroll. ~ Charlie N. Holmberg

By George, the next time he found himself on the road all alone late at night, he was going to whistle along to every damn song on the radio.

"That'll show them," he snarled, though he had no idea who he'd be showing nor why he nearly tore the knob off when he shut off the radio. ~ Peggy Webb

So ... It's just that I have a problem with voltage. I don't know how to explain it ... I often get the feeling I've got a button missing, you know, some knob for adjusting the volume. I always go too far to one extreme or the other. I can never find the right balance and whatever I take a fancy to - well, it always ends badly." She was surprised at herself. Why was she confiding in him like this? Slightly tipsy, maybe? "When I drink, I drink too much, when I smoke, I fuck myself up, when I love, I go out of my mind and when I work, it's into the ground. Dead. I don't know how to do things normally, quietly, I - ~ Anna Gavalda

She turned up the volume. I listened for a second to the high-pitched garble of Italian. "Taffeta," I said, "how is this your favorite part? You don't even know what the words mean."

"I do too," she insisted.

"No you don't--they're in another language."

"Yes I do, Grace." She swiveled the volume knob. "Listen. ~ Kirsten Hubbard

Quiet is peace. Tranquility. Quiet is turning down the volume knob on life. Silence is pushing the off button. Shutting it down. All of it. - Amir ~ Khaled Hosseini

Road trips are fun. Come on. I'll let you control the music. I give you permission to put your hand on my knob." He laughed and I playfully hit him on the arm.
"There is no knob."
"Well, you are pretty good at pushing my buttons too. ~ Teresa Mummert

I reached our building only to find a wide-eyed Southern belle wearing a Civil Way-era dress blocking the front door. A silk parasol and a full hoopskirt completed her ensemble. I wore something like it to a costume party once, but hers was an original. Frustration was back, and now it was in my way.
In the form of freaking Scarlatt O'Hara.
Sighing, I stuck my hand through her stomach to turn the knob, meeting no resistance. I rolled my eyes as she gasped, fluttered her eyelashes, and disappeared in a puff of air.
You know, Scarlett, Rhett didn't give a dang, and frankly, I don't either. ~ Myra McEntire

Think about it: If you have saved just enough to have your own house, your own car, a modicum of income to pay for food, clothes, and a few conveniences, and your everyday responsibilities start and end only with yourself… You can afford not to do anything outside of breathing, eating, and sleeping.
Time would be an endless, white blanket. Without folds and pleats or sudden rips. Monday would look like Sunday, going sans adrenaline, slow, so slow and so unnoticed. Flowing, flowing, time is flowing in phrases, in sentences, in talk exchanges of people that come as pictures and videos, appearing, disappearing, in the safe, distant walls of Facebook.
Dial fast food for a pizza, pasta, a burger or a salad. Cooking is for those with entire families to feed. The sala is well appointed. A day-maid comes to clean. Quietly, quietly she dusts a glass figurine here, the flat TV there. No words, just a ho-hum and then she leaves as silently as she came. Press the shower knob and water comes as rain. A TV remote conjures news and movies and soaps. And always, always, there's the internet for uncomplaining company.
Outside, little boys and girls trudge along barefoot. Their tinny, whiny voices climb up your windowsill asking for food. You see them. They don't see you. The same way the vote-hungry politicians, the power-mad rich, the hey-did-you-know people from newsrooms, and the perpetually angry activists don't see you. Safely ensconced in your tower of concrete, you retre ~ Psyche Roxas-Mendoza

When the sun went down, and touches of blue filtered into the fading afterglow, an orange lamp would light up in the knob of the bell and slowly begin to revolve. The beacon always pinpointed the onset of nightfall exactly. Against the most gorgeous sunsets or in dim drizzling mist, the beacon was ever true to its appointed moment: that precise instant in the alchemy of light and dark when darkness tipped the scales. ~ Haruki Murakami

Jonah spoke what everyone was thinking. "Wouldn't it be Twilight Zone if the door was open, too?"
Hamilton tried the knob. It didn't budge.
Ian stepped forward and examined the lock. "Natalie's diary has better security than this." He produced a credit card and slipped it between the latch and the jamb. There was a click, and the door swung wide. ~ Gordon Korman

What would be the best therapy? Punching the evil sod in the knob! [ ... ]
It doesn't undo it though. You'd feel good for a second and then there's just emptiness. It's like bingeing. After the chocolate there's the wrappers. ~ Rae Earl

Truth [10w]
Tell the truth and its enemies will scatter like roaches.
Inventory of a Lost Childhood
1. Lion King's Simba missing an eye
2. Conan the Barbarian missing a sword
3. Transformer missing an arm/wing/machine gun
4. Scooby-Doo missing a head
5. Star Wars' R2-D2 missing a gripping tool
6. Etch-a-Sketch missing a knob
7. Powell Peralta skateboard missing a wheel
8. Teenage Mutant Ninja turtle missing a nunchuk
9. Atari console missing a joystick
10. G.I. Joe missing in action ~ Beryl Dov

They returned to the gallery and circled its rim, then went down a short hall. Scrap's tail twitched angrily when they reached Tristan's door: it was shut. Daine grabbed the knob. It stung her hand, making her yelp. "Kit? This ones magicked. Can you do anything?"
Kitten stood on her hind feet and peered into the lock, then whistled two cheerful notes. Nothing happened. She scowled and whistled again, less cheerfully, more as a demand. Nothing happened.
Daine was trying to decide what to do now when the dragon moved back and croaked. The lock popped from the wood to land at Daine's feet, smoking, and the door swung open. Kitten muttered darkly and kicked the lock mechanism aside as she went in. Daine followed, trying not to laugh. ~ Tamora Pierce

His hand tightened on the coppiced knob handle of his shillelagh when he also saw the deteriorating fabric. Bridget and Peter had walked together through this wooded area on the north side of Glencar Lake many times over these last four years searching for some telltale sign of Meg. ~ Georgette Symonds

It occurred to me that the movement of the amputated knob perfectly schematized what it would look like for someone to try to turn somersaults with one hand nailed to the floor. This was how I first became interested in the possibilities of annulation. ~ David Foster Wallace

In the 1920s, a generation before the coming of solid-state electronics, one could look at the circuits and see how the electron stream flowed. Radios had valves, as though electricity were a fluid to be diverted by plumbing. With the click of the knob came a significant hiss and hum, just at the edge of audibility. ~ James Gleick

During his life, the witcher had met thieves who looked like town councilors, councilors who looked like beggars, harlots who looked like princesses, princesses who looked like calving cows and kings who looked like thieves. But Stregobor always looked as, according to every rule and notion, a wizard should look. He was tall, thin and stooping, with enormous bushy gray eyebrows and a long, crooked nose. To top it off, he wore a black, trailing robe with improbably wide sleeves, and wielded a long staff capped with a crystal knob. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Love is like a door knob that I've mistaken for a shower handle, and I'm trying to turn up the heat on our relationship, but the handle won't turn and I've got shampoo in my eyes and my wetsuit is dry and I started crying just as the zookeeper asked me to leave. ~ Jarod Kintz

Anyone who watches even the slightest amount of TV is familiar with the scene: An agent knocks on the door of some seemingly ordinary home or office. The door opens, and the person holding the knob is asked to identify himself. The agent then says, I'm going to ask you to come with me. ~ David Sedaris

In India, 'cold weather' is merely a conventional phrase and has come into use through the necessity of having some way to distinguish between weather which will melt a brass door-knob and weather which will only make it mushy. ~ Mark Twain

What you want to be when you grow up?" Thomas turned the knob with his left hand and opened the door. "A man," he said and left. ~ Toni Morrison

I cursed and rubbed my forehead. The radio sang its bigotry in perfect '80s pop harmony. Let's send 'em aaallllllll ba-ack to Aaaaafrica . . . I reached down to the knob, to find the radio was already off. Here we fucking go. ~ David Wong

Jeff Beck is compelled by his inner artistic drive to keep evolving the instrument. He'll use the whammy bar with the volume knob and the tone control all at the same time - creating harmonics that no human being should be able to hit. ~ Steve Vai

We hold up iPhones and, if we're relatively conscious of history, we point out that this is an amazing device that contains a live map of the world and the biggest libraries imaginable and that it's an absolute paradigm shift in personal communication and empowerment. And then some knob says that it looks like something from Star Trek: The Next Generation, and then someone else says that it doesn't even look as cool as Captain Kirk's communicator in the original and then someone else says no but you can buy a case for it to make it look like one and you're off to the manufactured normalcy races, where nobody wins because everyone goes to fucking sleep. ~ Warren Ellis

She left quietly, closing the door behind her.
Only then did Hunter move, wandering to the portal, his large hand clasping the oval brass knob that she had just touched, searching for any remaining warmth her skin might have imparted. He leaned his cheek against the cool, glossy panel and closed his eyes. He craved her body, her sweetness, her hands on his body, her legs open to him, her throat tightening with feminine cries as he pleasured her... He shoved the thoughts away, but it was too late, he was left with a painful erection that wouldn't subside.
How long would it take for her to accept him? What the devil would she require? If only she would assign him some herculean task for him to accomplish and prove himself. 'Tell me what to do,' he thought, emitting a slight groan, 'and by God, I'll do it ten times over. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Man has been here 32,000 years. That it took a hundred million years to prepare the world for him is proof that that is what it was done for. I suppose it is. I dunno. If the Eiffel tower were now representing the world's age, the skin of paint on the pinnacle-knob at its summit would represent man's share of that age; and anybody would perceive that that skin what what the tower was built for. I reckon they would, I dunno. ~ Mark Twain

Computers have their own aleatoric aspect, too. They crash! But I'm a knob person. I like twiddling knobs. ~ Zeena Parkins

My parents, grandmother and brother were teachers. My mother taught Latin and French and was the school librarian. My father taught geography and a popular class called Family Living, the precursor to Sociology, which he eventually taught. My grandmother was a beloved one-room school teacher at Knob School, near Sonora in Larue County, Ky. ~ Sam Abell

One could not live without delicacy, but when / I think of love I think of the big, clumsy-looking / hands of my grandmother, each knuckle a knob ... ~ Mona Van Duyn

So," he throttled shift knob into fifth gear half a block from a stop sign, "you're from Great Britain."

"Yes. England. The North. Sheffield."

"Why you guys drive on the left?"

"Obviously, because it's right."

"I'm being serious."

"Are you?"

"I'm askin, aren't I?"

"I don't know. Tradition, I suppose."

"That's a dumb-ass reason."

"Then perhaps you should start driving on the left. ~ Kevin Cole

What is Time, O sister of similar features, that you speak of it so subserviently? Are we to be the slaves of the sun, that secondhand overrated knob of gilt, or of his sister, that fatuous circle of silver paper? A curse upon their ridiculous dictatorship! ~ Mervyn Peake

With a whistle of the wind,
And an icy snow flurry.
Off to Gobbler's Knob,
Come now let us hurry!

It is February second!
Groundhog's Day!
We need some prognostication,
On this cold winter's day.

Happy Groundhog Day to you!
Punxsutawney Phil, do come out of your cave!
For whether you cast a fair shadow, or no shadow you see on this day!

We send many warm wishes,
Of good tidings and cheer!
For when it is Groundhog's Day,
Springtime is surely near! ~ L.K. Merideth

His palm rests on the knob so I can't try to shut him out again. Rain droplets glisten along his sleek hair, which no doubt took gallons of glaze and hours to perfect. It's the one part of his appearance Taelor will actually approve of.
As for me, I favour the messy look - hair out of sorts, body slicked in sweat with motor oil or watercolours splashed across his olive skin.
That's the Jeb I grew up with. The one I could count on. The one I've lost. ~ A.G. Howard

I eat some crisps while I think about my question. "Would you rather have your knob chopped off or your tongue?"

"Bloody hell, Ariel," he says. "Can't you ask one normal question?"

I shrug. "Answer it."

"Tongue," he says.

I laugh. "Really? You'd rather never speak a single word ever again, never tell your wife you love her, never tell your children that you think they're beautiful, all so you could get your end away?"

He nods. "I wouldn't get a wife or a child if I didn't have a knob."

"You'd still have balls and sperm," I say. "You could still father a child."

He shakes his head. "I'd want my knob. ~ Beckie Stevenson

she had insisted upon showing him her new showerbath. "You press that knob," she had said, "and look - " Innumerable needles of water shot down. He laughed aloud. They had sat on the edge of the bath together. But ~ Virginia Woolf

The door is in front of you," he said. She turned her head slightly so that she could keep an eye on him even as she observed the basement door. "Any tricks up your sleeve? A secret password?" "Turning the knob will do it." "How very mundane." Alexandria reached for the door-knob at the same time he did. His arm curved around her, bringing their bodies close so that she smelled his clean, masculine scent and felt the heat of him right through their clothes. Hastily she dropped her hand. As he opened the door, she could have sworn she heard soft, taunting laughter in her ear. When she turned to glare at him, his face was all innocence. Alexandria refrained from kicking his shins and with great dignity walked into the brightly lit kitchen, proud of her self-control. Aidan ~ Christine Feehan

Three heavy blows boxed him low in the back. He saw a splash of red hit the door and had time to think, 'We should have remembered the body armor.' Then he crumpled, still holding onto the knob with one hand as the world rushed away from him. Everything he was and everything he'd ever known diminished to a single burning-bright point of light. Then it went out. His hand slipped off the knob. He died on his knees, leaning against the door. ~ Stephen King

The doggy demolition began slowly. Clothes, hairbrushes, dishes, pens, wristwatch, toothbrush (yes, he'd reached it somehow) - anything I came in contact with became an object to chew, maul, consume. Toys, dog chews, or rawhides were scoffed at while he was alone; it had to be something of mine. He ate two remote controls, binoculars, a cherished baseball from high school, two belts, a computer mouse and keyboard, Ray-Ban sunglasses, and too many shoes to count. Even the shifter knob and window cranks in my Civic fell victim to Lou's teeth. Anything I handled eventually became dog food. ~ Steve Duno

It was like someone had turned a knob a hair to the right ... and the radio station clicked in so loud and clear it almost knocked her over . ~ Todd Field

Let us build our houses with our own hands. And grow the wheat, and bake the bread.
Then we'll know what the earth is.
Now, we turn the knob: the water runs. I have no idea from where or how.
Electricity...
We buy the bread: we don't know who bakes it, how, where.
The same with our lives now.
We live, but we don't know how, where, why.
And it has no taste. ~ Jonas Mekas

I say is someone in there?' The voice is the young post-New formalist from
Pittsburgh who affects Continental and wears an ascot that won't stay tight, with that
hesitant knocking of when you know perfectly well someone's in there, the
bathroom door composed of thirty-six that's three times a lengthwise twelve
recessed two-bevelled squares in a warped rectangle of steam-softened wood, not
quite white, the bottom outside corner right here raw wood and mangled from
hitting the cabinets' bottom drawer's wicked metal knob, through the door and
offset 'Red' and glowering actors and calendar and very crowded scene and pubic
spirals of pale blue smoke from the elephant-colored rubble of ash and little
blackened chunks in the foil funnel's cone, the smoke's baby-blanket blue that's sent
her sliding down along the wall past knotted washcloth, towel rack, blood-flower
wallpaper and intricately grimed electrical outlet, the light sharp bitter tint of a heated
sky's blue that's left her uprightly fetal with chin on knees in yet another North
American bathroom, deveiled, too pretty for words, maybe the Prettiest Girl Of All
Time (Prettiest G.O.A.T.), knees to chest, slew-footed by the radiant chill of the
claw-footed tub's porcelain, Molly's had somebody lacquer the tub in blue, lacquer,
she's holding the bottle, recalling vividly its slogan for the past generation was The
Choice of a Nud ~ David Foster Wallace

Lying in bed that morning after a long and frantic run home, the door dead bolted, chained, and a chair hooked under the knob for good measure, Evangeline knew that she wouldn't be able to fall asleep. Every creak, every distant sound, drew her attention. Finally, when footsteps sounded from overhead, she watched the ceiling with a tangible fear that John Smith knew what she'd done and that his secret wasn't safe. ~ Shawn Kirsten Maravel

Hold on a second, partner. I've got a few questions, like, where are the rest of your clothes? And why doesn't she have any shoes?" He pointed to Luna's bare toes. She had an answer for that. "My boyfriend here is trying to protect my reputation. Such a sweetie." She giggled. "See, the real reason the stove accidentally stayed on is I might have accidentally grabbed and turned a knob when Jeoff was taking me like a wild beast on the counter. ~ Eve Langlais

Even sex was no longer what it had once been, though he was still as addicted to it as ever. He felt jerked around by his own dick, as if the rest of him was merely an inconsequential knob that happened to be attached to one end of it. Maybe the thing would be happier if left to roam around on its own. ~ Margaret Atwood

importance. A control knob cracked into a tiny mess in his careful hand. ~ Arlene Webb

To get it all done I have to dim my brain, turn it down by notches like the flat-turn knob on a gas lantern, leaving only a nub of flame. ~ Christina Baker Kline

Okay, babe, I'm here.
The front door smashed opened, slamming against the wall - the man didn't know how to turn a knob? ~ Christy Reece

He grasped the knob. It was engraved with a wild rose
wound around a revolver, one of those great old guns from his
father and now lost forever.
Yet it will be yours again, whispered the voice of the Tower
and the voice of the roses - these voices were now one.
What do you mean ?
To this there was no answer, but the knob turned beneath
his hand, and perhaps that was an answer. Roland opened the
door at the top of the Dark Tower.
He saw and understood at once, the knowledge falling
upon him in a hammerblow, hot as the sun of the desert that
was the apotheosis of all deserts. How many times had he
climbed these stairs only to find himself peeled back, curved
back, turned back? Not to the beginning (when things might
have been changed and time's curse lifted), but to that moment
in the Mohaine Desert when he had finally understood that his
thoughtless, questionless quest would ultimately succeed? How
many times had he traveled a loop like the one in the clip
that had once pinched off his navel, his own tet-ka can Gan?
How many times would he travel it?
"Oh, no!" he screamed. "Please, not again! Have pity! Have
mercy!"
The hands pulled him forward regardless. The hands of the
Tower knew no mercy.
They were the hands of Gan, the hands of ka, and they
knew no mercy. ~ Stephen King

I wouldn't want to fuck you if you had a ten inch knob made of gold and your arsehole was the gate to Nirvana. I can't be friends with you because you're a gibbering twatwaffle, not because I would ever, in a million years, want to shag you. Get over yourself! ~ FayJay

Each of our devoted investigators has had to protest the critical importance to science and the surpassing conveniences offered by the cabin: How well the hill-and-dale floor is held together by layered patches of variegated linoleum; how nicely the roof admits starlight and yet keeps out much of the rain; how smoothly the door opens when you lift firmly on the knob; how ideally the two one-room accessory structures serve as "slave" quarters for summer assistants. And what would befall the local ward of dependent woodmice if the cabin commissary were to fail? ~ Durward L. Allen

I've almost got this fire lit," Duncan lied to change the subject.
"It's gas,Duncan," Willa told him. "You just turn a knob."
"Oh." Duncan did as she said, and a bright flame roared up through the fireplace. ~ Amanda Hocking

I hate modern car radios. In my car, I don't even have a push-button radio. It's just got a dial and two knobs. Just AM. One knob makes it louder, and one knob changes the station. When you're driving, that's all I want. ~ Chris Isaak

Oh yes that's right, you're man of principle aren't you?' Jim said, somewhat tetchily. 'Made of unbending rock with no room for compromise. Heart of oak, nerves of steel, a will of iron … and a knob of butter. ~ Tony Rattigan

It was likely her due, then, that a familiar voice halted her progress just as she started to ascend the staircase. "You've certainly turned the afternoon on its head." Lucas regarded her with a wry smile from the first landing, his thick brown hair blending into an exceptionally large portrait of Gravethorne's favorite hounds. "How does it feel to be the most notorious debutante in London?"

Sparring with Lucas Bellamy held little appeal to her at the moment, but Amy was incapable of letting a jab go unanswered. She gripped the decorative knob on the newel post and lifted her chin. "Slightly inconvenienced yet decidedly more powerful, I think. ~ Rachel Pierson

I could eat a knob at night. ~ Karl Pilkington

Tug the pug? Wax his ax? Wobble his knob? "Did you guys hold a Who Can Come Up with the Worst Euphemism contest at some point and not invite me?" he called up ~ Julie Ann Walker

The truth is you already know what it's like. You already know
the difference between the size and speed of everything that flashes
through you and the tiny inadequate bit of it all you can ever let anyone
know. As though inside you is this enormous room full of what
seems like everything in the whole universe at one time or another and
yet the only parts that get out have to somehow squeeze out through
one of those tiny keyholes you see under the knob in older doors. As if
we are all trying to see each other through these tiny keyholes.

But it does have a knob, the door can open. But not in the way you
think. But what if you could? Think for a second - what if all the infinitely dense and shifting worlds of stuff inside you every moment of your life turned out now to be somehow fully open and expressible afterward,
after what you think of as you has died, because what if afterward
now each moment itself is an infinite sea or span or passage of time in
which to express it or convey it, and you don't even need any organized
English, you can as they say open the door and be in anyone else's
room in all your own multiform forms and ideas and facets? Because
listen - we don't have much time, here's where Lily Cache slopes
slightly down and the banks start getting steep, and you can just make
out the outlines of the unlit sign for the farmstand that's never open
anymore, the last si ~ David Foster Wallace

He crouched down next to me. I put my hand on the hem of his jeans. It was the first time I'd touched him since that day in the cafeteria line.
"I've got so much to tell you," he said, so quietly I almost couldn't hear. "Been thinking about how to even start."
"Start anywhere," I whispered. "I just want to know."
"I feel like I've already told you everything, in a way. I've been talking to you in my head for eight years, writing epics and sequels to epics, and sequels to the sequels."
I let my fingers move down to the laces of his boots, then up to the top of his sock. One more millimeter and my fingertip would be against his skin. I moved it back down, resting on the knob of his ankle. "I'm here now," I said. "You can talk to me, right out loud."
Just then, two boys, eight or nine years old, crashed into the grove, leaping over the stream like we had. They froze when they saw us; I jerked my hand away from Cameron's ankle and sat up.
"Oh," one boy said, "hi."
"Hi," I said. "We were just leaving." I got up without Cameron's help, brushed myself off, and followed him back to the parking lot. ~ Sara Zarr

A magical CO2 knob for controlling weather and climate simply does not exist! ~ Willie Soon

We are reaching deep within ourselves to adjust the master knob. ~ Kevin Kelly

The door doesn't have a knob, just a latch held closed by a chain, another victim of Dede's shears. ~ James Patterson

Pemberton felt something shift inside him, something small but definite, the way a knob's slight twist allowed a door to swing wide open. ~ Ron Rash

Its not the size of the rise that satisfies, it's the throb of the knob that does the job. ~ Brindle Chase

At the sound of the heavy knob turning, he cursed under his breath. She was coming in, damn it!
To stop Maria before she ruined everything, he grabbed her about the waist, hauled her against him, and sealed his mouth to hers.
At first she seemed too stunned to do anything. When after a moment, he felt her trying to draw back from him, he caught her behind the neck in an iron grip.
"Oh," Gran said in a stiff voice. "Beg pardon."
Dimly he heard the door close and footsteps retreating, but before he could let Maria go, a searing pain shot through his groin, making him see stars. Blast her, the woman had kneed him in the ballocks!
As he doubled over, fighting to keep from passing out, she snapped, "That was for making me look like a whore, too!"
When she turned for the door, he choked out, "Wait!"
"Why should I?" she said, heading inexorably forward. "You've done nothing but insult and humiliate me before your family."
Still reeling, he presented his only ace in the hole, "If you return to town," he called after her, "what will you do about your Nathan?"
That halted her, thank God.
He forced himself to straighten, though the room spun a little. "You still need my help, you know."
Slowly, she faced him. "So far you haven't demonstrated any genuine intent to offer help," she said icily.
"But I will." He gulped down air, struggling for mastery over his pain. "Tomorrow we'll return to town and hire a runner. I know one who's ~ Sabrina Jeffries

She paused, frowning at him. But his eyes drifted to the small wooden door just a few feet away. A broom closet. She followed his attention, and a slow smile spread across her face. She turned toward it, but he grabbed her hand, bringing his face close to hers. "You're going to have to be very quiet."
She reached the knob and opened the door, tugging him inside. "I have a feeling that I'm going to be telling you that in a few moments," she purred, eyes gleaming with the challenge.
Chaol's blood roared through him, and he followed her into the closet and wedged a broom beneath the handle. ~ Sarah J. Maas

MY MOTHER GETS DRESSED

It is impossible for my mother to do even
the simplest things for herself anymore
so we do it together,
get her dressed.

I choose the clothes without
zippers or buckles or straps,
clothes that are simple
but elegant, and easy to get into.

Otherwise, it's just like every other day.
After bathing, getting dressed.
The stockings go on first.
This time, it's the new ones,

the special ones with opaque black triangles
that she's never worn before,
bought just two weeks ago
at her favorite department store.

We start with the heavy, careful stuff of the right toes
into the stocking tip
then a smooth yank past the knob of her ankle
and over her cool, smooth calf

then the other toe
cool ankle, smooth calf
up the legs
and the pantyhose is coaxed to her waist.

You're doing great, Mom,
I tell her
as we ease her body
against mine, rest her whole weight against me

to slide her black dress
with the black empire collar
over her head
struggle her fingers through the dark tunnel of the sleeve.

I reach from the outside
deep into the dark for her hand,
grasp where I can't see for her touch.
You've got to help me a little here, Mom

I tell her
then her fingertips touch mine
and we work her fingers through the sleeve's mouthDaphne Gottlieb

Daughters Death Mothers Mothers And Daughters