Knock You Off Your Feet Quotes

Life is like crossing a river. If you take a huge step-aim for too bigger dreams-then the current will knock you off your feet and carry you away.
The way to do it is small steps, you will take hold of life. You will get there in the end. ~ Louis Sachar

She is a figure of legend and fairy tale, one to be taken seriously, or she might knock you off your feet with a quick whirl of the staff she carries everywhere. ~ Claire Wong

Take off your boots, please."
He set his feet apart and brought his hands to his hips. He let his gaze slide over her with deliberate slowness, not assessing this time, but going for a blatantly male vibe. He clearly couldn't believe he hadn't shut her up yet, and he was now switching to a different tactic.
"What else do you want me to take off? ~ Dana Marton

Ian Fleming

The CBC Interview, 1953

He doesn't use Anglo-Saxon four-letter words, "I don't like seeing them on the page."

When asked why his novels are so popular in light of the dirtiness of the trade (of espionage), Fleming said, "The books have pace and plenty of action. And espionage is not regarded by the majority of the public as a dirty trade. They regard it as a rather sort of ah, ah very romantic affair… Spying has always been regarded as (a) very romantic one-man job, so-to-speak. A one man against a whole police force or an army."

Regarding heroes of his time, Fleming said, "I think that although they may have feet of clay, ah, we probably all have, and all human beings have, there's no point in dwelling entirely on the feet. There are many other parts of the animal to be examined. And I think people like to read about heroes."

BBC Interview on Desert Island Discs

Question: Had the character of James Bond been growing in your mind for a long time?
Ian Fleming's response: "No, I can't say I had, really. He sort of, ah, developed when I was just on the edge of getting married, after having been a bachelor for so long, and I really wanted to take my mind off the agony. And so I decided to sit down and write a book."

Question: How much long do you think you can keep Bond going?
Ian Fleming's response: "Well, I don't know. It depends on how much I, how much more I can go on following ~ Ian Fleming

He looks up.
Our eyes lock,and he breaks into a slow smile. My heart beats faster and faster. Almost there.He sets down his book and stands.And then this-the moment he calls my name-is the real moment everything changes.
He is no longer St. Clair, everyone's pal, everyone's friend.
He is Etienne. Etienne,like the night we met. He is Etienne,he is my friend.
He is so much more.
Etienne.My feet trip in three syllables. E-ti-enne. E-ti-enne, E-ti-enne. His name coats my tongue like melting chocolate. He is so beautiful, so perfect.
My throat catches as he opens his arms and wraps me in a hug.My heart pounds furiously,and I'm embarrassed,because I know he feels it. We break apart, and I stagger backward. He catches me before I fall down the stairs.
"Whoa," he says. But I don't think he means me falling.
I blush and blame it on clumsiness. "Yeesh,that could've been bad."
Phew.A steady voice.
He looks dazed. "Are you all right?"
I realize his hands are still on my shoulders,and my entire body stiffens underneath his touch. "Yeah.Great. Super!"
"Hey,Anna. How was your break?"
John.I forget he was here.Etienne lets go of me carefully as I acknowledge Josh,but the whole time we're chatting, I wish he'd return to drawing and leave us alone. After a minute, he glances behind me-to where Etienne is standing-and gets a funny expression on hs face. His speech trails off,and he buries his nose in his sketchbook. I look back, b ~ Stephanie Perkins

You run off when things get a little more complicated than you'd like, and leave us to cover your tracks so the whole valley doesn't find out that Hytanica bloody lost its King-meanwhile, the Cokyrians are infiltrating our lands to the north, so it becomes entirely possible that you've walked right into their camp. We have men out there still searching for you,men who should be helping to barricade the northern border-to make sure that in a week you still have a kingdom to rule. And you have the gall to strut in here and be an ass! I swear, Steldo, if we didn't need someone to sit on that throne, I'd dispatch you with my own hands!"
The two erstwhile companions stared at each other, Galen challenging Steldor to respond, and Steldor too staggered to do so.Eventually,the sergeant threw his hands in the air and marched into his office,slamming the door behind him.
In the silence that followed Galen's departure, I came to appreciate the true meaning of the word awkward. Steldor did not rise to his feet, and his eyes were glazed. I felt un-needed,but there was no way for me to make a polished exit. The Palace Gaurds,bound by duty to remaind, searched the walls, the floor, the ceiling, for anything plausible in which to show an interest, not wanting to be caught gawking at their King. ~ Cayla Kluver

In my experience, there never seems to be a man or woman who will walk in and literally sweep you off your feet, or away, when you're in the biggest distaster of your life. If it happens, it'll be guaranteed he or she won't be the one you've longed for. Yeah ... we all still seem to be waiting for Mr. or Ms. Right. ~ Jennifer Salaiz

When Alex leaves a little later, Carlos steps forward. "Need help?"
I shake my head.
"Are you ever gonna talk to me again? Dammit, Kiara, enough with the silent treatment. I'd rather have you say your little two-word sentences than stop talkin' altogether. Hell, just flip
me off again."
I toss my backpack in the backseat and start the engine.
"Where are you goin'?" Carlos asks, stepping in front of my car.
I beep.
"I'm not movin'," he says.
My response is another beep. It's not an intimidating, deep beep like most cars, but it's the best my car can give.
He places both hands on the hood.
"Move," I say.
He moves all right. With pantherlike quickness, Carlos jumps through the open passenger window, feet first.
"You should get the door fixed," he says. ~ Simone Elkeles

Jessabelle,
I'm sorry to just leave, but I need some time.
Time to get my head back on straight.
Time to remember who I really am.
Time with my Creator, the one who knew before the foundations of the earth what would happen over the last few days.

I wish more than anything, that I could process all of this with you, go through all of this together, because I'm coming to understand that, out of all the men in the world, God picked me for you. It's so much more than lineage. It's you. How you've come into your own. How you've blossomed and grown. I'm so privileged to see that secret side of you-the side no one else gets to see. The side where you secretly paint your second toenail a different color because everyone else does the fourth one, but you're not sure my mother would approve so you never wear open-toed shoes to show them off. You only eat M&Ms in odd numbers. You use your right hand to put hair behind your ear, but never your left.
You didn't know I knew those things, did you?
I've watched you over the last few months and learned more about you than I realized until I tried to put my thoughts on paper. You're sleeping just feet away from me as I write this. Your even breathing brings some peace to my troubled soul. The small smile on your face makes me wonder what your dreaming about and if, in your sleep, you've managed to find happiness instead of the turmoil life always seems to bring. I have to stop myself ~ Carol Moncado

Tears flood in you
your eyes burning
your heart scars with my name scratched deep
My face is gone
my heart betrayed by your lullabies
I'm a shadow of a girl inside
Hands are touching you
nothing takes the place of you
Heart wrench, weeps goodbye
Lullabies, beautiful and trusting
Barely breathing as they break into dust
Lonely corners me
Sweeps me off my feet
Shows me it was better for me
Fingertips holding close
your grip not as soft
Follows me to an empty bed
I can't stop the weakening of my soul
my body is dying
your tune is holding my mind
Let me go
see what I do
No control
No you
You whisper your sweet goodbye
If it is small it won't interrupt my sleep
But my heart you keep
You say it's for me
But who would be happy?
Alone left out in the cold ~ Mercy Cortez

You really shouldn't have come," Lord Blackthorne said, his hand slipping across my face
to cup my jaw, fingers brushing my cheek. I shrieked, shrinking back and kicking at my captor
with stocking-covered feet. "Such a pretty child, in such an ugly place. Tell me, do you think
your dear husband would mind if I stole a kiss from the bride?"
Kicking him in the shin, I spun, making him release me. I climbed off whatever I'd landed
on, aiming my palms out and wishing that I could see what the heck was happening. Flames
from dozens of candles blinked at me as they lit with the power of my mind. Lord Blackthorne
touched my shoulder, his other hand curving around the bodice of my gown, toying with the
beading along the neckline. ~ Cyrese Covelli

Maybe we are all Beths, boarding other people's life journeys, or letting them hop aboard ours. For a while we ride together. A few minutes, a few miles. Companions on the road, sharing our air and our view, our feet swaying to the same beat. Then you get off at your stop, or I get off at mine. Unless we decide to stay on longer together.
p 251 ~ Rachel Simon

Love is a tidal wave--not because it sweeps you off your feet, but because it pulls you down and drowns you. ~ Samantha Van Leer

Why am I feeling guilty? Why is he so mad? I peek up at him. "Well, you know a lot more about me now," he snaps, his mouth presses into a hard line. "I knew you were inexperienced, but a virgin!" He says it like it's a really dirty word. "Hell, Ana, I just showed you ... " he groans. "May God forgive me. Have you ever been kissed, apart from by me?" "Of course I have." I try my best to look affronted. Okay ... maybe twice. "And a nice young man hasn't swept you off your feet? I just don't understand. You're twenty-one, nearly twenty-two. You're beautiful." He runs his hand through his hair again. Beautiful. I flush with pleasure. Christian Grey thinks I'm beautiful. I knot my fingers together, staring at them hard, trying to conceal my goofy grin. ~ E.L. James

Even when change is elective, it will disorient you. You may go through anxiety. You will miss aspects of your former life. It doesn't matter. The trick is to know in advance of making any big change that you're going to be thrown off your feet by it. So you prepare for this inevitable disorientation and steady yourself to get through it. Then you take the challenge, make the change, and achieve your dream. ~ Harvey MacKay

The love of God. The mercy of God. The judgment of God. You take the shoes off your feet and stand as you would before a mountain or at the edge of the sea. But the friendship of God? It is not something God does. It is something Abraham and God, or Moses and God, do together. Not even God can be a friend all by himself apparently. You see Abraham, say, not standing at all but sitting down, loosening his prayer shawl, trimming the end off his cigar. He is not being Creature for the moment, and God is not being Creator. There is no agenda. They are simply being together, the two of them, and being themselves. ~ Frederick Buechner

A strange illusion," I murmured shakily.
"Not an illusion," said Amar. His voice was brittle. "Didn't I promise you the power of a thousand kings?" He crossed the marble floor that had once been an ocean. Water glistened on his feet and a gray fish flopped helplessly in a corner.
He stood in front of me, his eyes hectic and alive. Even through my fury, I couldn't look away from him.
"You and I are the ground and ceiling of our empire," he said, his voice harsh and desperate, pleading and ruthless at once. "You and I can carve lines into the universe and claim all that we want. We need only share between ourselves. Don't you see?"
"All I see is your power," I said. "None of my own. All I see are my words and expectations thrown up against whatever it is that you choose to tell me--"
"--whatever I can tell you," finished Amar. "And as for your power, I was hoping you would ask that. It's time to practice."
"Leave me alone," I hissed.
"Your duties in Akaran will pay no heed to the whims of its empress."
I bared my teeth at Amar and he returned it with a half-grin.
"From now on, whatever concentration you use is yours alone. It is your power. Not mine."
"How would I know?"
"You'll feel it in your bones. Like blood singing to marrow."
I slid off the bed and when my feet hit the floor, something silvery trilled through my body, like light had seeped in and was rediscovering me. It was like being full for the first time. Li ~ Roshani Chokshi

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

At the mention of children, Connor halted his steps. For a moment Beatrice thought he was going to storm off, turn away from her and never look back.
Instead he fell to one knee before her. Time went momentarily still. In some dazed part of her mind Beatrice remembered Teddy, kneeling stiffly at her feet as he swore to be her liege man. This felt utterly different. Even kneeling, Connor looked like a warrior, every line of his body radiating a tensed power and strength.
"It kills me that I don't have more to offer you," he said roughly. "I have no lands, no fortune, no title. All I can give you is my honor, and my heart. Which already belongs to you."
She would have fallen in love with him right then, if she didn't already love him so fiercely that every cell of her body burned with it.
"I love you, Bee. I've loved you for so long I've forgotten what it felt like not to love you."
"I love you, too." Her eyes stung with tears.
"I get that you have to marry someone before your dad dies. But you can't marry Teddy Eaton."
She watched as he fumbled in his jacket for something - had he bought a ring? She thought wildly - but what he pulled out instead was a black Sharpie. Still kneeling before her, he slid the diamond engagement ring off Beatrice's finger and tucked it in the pocket of her jacket. Using the Sharpie, he traced a thin loop around the skin of Beatrice's finger, where the ring had been.
"I'm sorry it isn't a real ring, but I ~ Katharine McGee

Tell me you didn't," she groaned, knowing it would not be the truth. "Please tell me you didn't take advantage of these poor people."

"I didn't," he chirped.

"Liar."

With an irritated sigh he tried to convince her. "Amora, you're not seeing things from an immortal perspective. The people who built this temple…"

"Temple?" she cried, cutting him off. "You forced these people to build you a temple? Why? Because all of a sudden you're God now?"

Perturbed by her interruption, he raised a warning finger. "No, no, Amora, not God. But from their viewpoint I may seem a bit…..god-like."

She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner.

"If you would let me finish," he went on, "these particular individuals had no part in the construction of that monument; it was their ancestors who erected it. And I must say, they did a fine job. My likeness has weathered the centuries quite well."

"You're despicable."

He frowned at the insult. "Nobody was forced to build us a temple, Amora. They chose to do so."

"You were that impressive to them, huh?"

"Apparently." His eyes twinkled at the memory. He took a few steps toward the distant city, pulling Eena along. "Come on, let's go have some fun."

"No way." She planted her feet, refusing. Surprisingly it put a stop to him.

"And why not?"

"Because your sudden appearance will upset them! No doubt you'll wa ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

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

Nothing about you or Wonderland makes sense. And the 'one abiding truth' is that life was so much easier when I'd forgotten your massive ego and that other world ever existed."
A tremor shifts through his features, first fragile, then severe. His muscles twitch under his T-shirt, sending a tingling sensation through my knuckles. "You want me nonexistent?"

Before I can respond, he steps back and flips the hat from his head. Then he drags off his vest and his T-shirt, dropping them all on the floor at my feet. Once he's peeled off his necklace and bracelets, he stands there facing me in only jeans and boots.

I watch him warily. "W-w-what are you doing?"

"I'm clearing the way for my massive ego. ~ A.G. Howard

Everything's going to be fine. Sooner or later you're going to find someone who knocks you right off your feet. Someone who makes you feel alive. Someone who kisses you and makes your knees weak. Relationships are complicated enough as it is. It's not worth settling for anything less. ~ Lindsey Kelk

One day, my sweet girl, some lucky man will come and help you understand the very meaning of love. He will sweep you off your feet and show you what it is to place your heart in someone else's care to willingly offer them the gift of your soul. ~ Tillie Cole

We think the world is steady, rolling through space beneath our feet, day and night, rain and sunlight. And then, one day, you just fall off the planet and drift away, into outer space, and everything you thought was true all the laws that bound your life before, all the rules and norms that kept things in place, that kept you in place, they're gone. And nothing makes sense anymore. Gravity is gone. Love is gone. ~ Nickolas Butler

His coach drew up before the Duke of Stanhope's town house, and Ian walked swiftly up the front steps, almost knocking poor Ormsley, who opened the door, off his feet in his haste to get to his grandfather upstairs. A few minutes later he strode back down and into the library, where he flung himself into a chair, his eyes riveted on the clock. Upstairs the household was in an uproar as the duke called for his valet, his butler, and his footmen. Unlike Ian, however, the duke was ecstatic. "Ormsley, Ian needs me!" the duke said happily, stripping off his jacket and pulling off his neckcloth. "He walked right in here and said it."
Ormsley beamed. "He did indeed, your grace."
"I feel twenty years younger."
Ormsley nodded. "This is a very great day."
"What in hell is keeping Anderson? I need a shave. I want evening clothes-black, I think-a diamond stickpin and diamond studs. Stop thrusting that cane at me, man."
"You shouldn't overly exert yourself, your grace."
"Ormsley," said the duke as he walked over to an armoire and flung the doors open, "if you think I'm going to be leaning on that damned cane on the greatest night of my life, you're out of your mind. I'll walk in there beside my grandson unaided, thank you very much. Where the devil is Anderson? ~ Judith McNaught

Take off your damned wrapper! The old buffer ordered, looking intensely at her lower part. Comfort was on her knees, rubbing the old man's dirty feet.
All her plea and tears continually worsen the whole matter.
I want to do you harder cos you gonna be fucked by other folks who needs a large hole, said the man, moving towards her.
Comfort struggled with all her feminine might, but the old masculine but old man ripped her wrapper and slapped her on the face.
Lie here, Lie here! I'm gonna do what your old man did to your mama and its gonna sweet you.
She screamed as the man's organ prick her glory hole like a sharp needle. ~ Michael Bassey Johnson

I felt a warm hand touch mine.
"Are you okay?"
"If you mean am I injured, then the answer is no. If you mean am I 'okay' as in am-I-confident-I'm-still-sane, the answer is still no."
Ren frowned. "We have to find a way to get across the chasm."
"You're certainly welcome to give it a try." I waved him off and went back to drinking my water.
He moved to the edge and peered across, looking speculatively at the distance. Changing back to a tiger, he trotted a few paces back in the direction we had come from, turned, and ran at full speed toward the hole.
"Ren, no!" I screamed.
He leapt, clearing the hole easily, and landed lightly on his front paws. Then he trotted a short distance away and did the same thing to come back. He landed at my feet and changed back to human form.
"Kells, I have an idea."
"Oh, this I've got to hear. I just hope you don't plan on including me in this scheme of yours. Ah. Let me guess. I know. You want to tie a rope to your tail, leap across, tie it off, and then have me pull my body across the rope, right?"
He cocked his head as if considering it, and then shook his head. "No, you don't have the strength to do something like that. Plus, we have no rope and nothing to tie a rope to."
"Right. So what's the plan?"
He held my hands and explained. "What I'm proposing will be much easier. Do you trust me?"
I was going to be sick. "I trust you. It's just-" I looked into his concerned blue eyes an ~ Colleen Houck

Peter pushed off from the roof and stalked a few feet away, his back to her. "Please tell me this is all some kind of a sick joke."
"It's the truth. All of it. That's why hunters are after me."
"How did they find out?" Peter asked, swiveling toward her now.
"I think Beck ratted me out. I went to his house this morning and told him what had happened. He was furious, Peter. I've never seen anyone that angry."
"Duh! Now there's a surprise," her friend replied sarcastically. "I saw the way he looked at you at your dad's funeral. Of course he'd be mad. You're about the only one on the planet who doesn't realize how he feels about you."
"He never said anything," she retorted.
"Hey, we guys don't blurt out that kind of stuff," he replied. "It's against the man code. Beck may never have said how he felt, but everything he did for you should have been a big clue. I mean, come on, how slow are you?"
She glowered at her friend. "I figured he was doing it because of my father."
"Maybe, but the guy is really into you, Riley."
"No way. If he'd liked me, he wouldn't have blown me off and - "
"Ancient history, girl!" he countered. "You were, what, fifteen? Your dad would have torn him apart if he'd touched you. Beck had no other choice."
"He didn't have to be so mean."
"God, will you listen to yourself?" Peter retorted.
"You have no idea how much he hurt me," she shot back.
"Give it up, will you? You're my best friend, but ~ Jana Oliver

His bike was lying against the curb, and he righted it, holding the handlebars. "What I do, I do out of hate, not humanity. Because punishing assholes gets me off - not saving victims. And actually all this . . ." He cast his gaze around us. "This isn't doing a fucking thing for me. So if you're not going to jump, I'd just as soon be home in bed."
Home. Well, there was one question answered.
Face burning, I shook my head. "No, I'm not jumping."
"Great." He slung a leg over his crossbar. Face utterly unchanged, the Badger drew his infamous Glock from inside his hoodie, took aim, and shot me in the thigh from five feet.
"Ow, Jesus!" White paint exploded across my favorite jeans, and a bolt of exquisite pain promised a welt.
"That's for wasting my time," he said, replacing the pistol. "I'm too fucking tired for false alarms, so next time have the decency to jump."
My slack mouth produced no words. I watched him glide away, silent and passive once more. As ever.
I glanced at my palm, streaked with white from where I'd grabbed my leg. Looked and felt just like when a bird shits on your hair. You pray it's a raindrop, but it never is.
Fuck you too, Badger. ~ C.M. McKenna

I can't tell you what I look like. I look in the mirror and see
nothing but space. Space reflecting space, that's what the
mirror shows. It figures because Grandmamma said I was
nothing but dirt. Dirt under her feet she'd say. Dirt she needed
to keep kicking out of the way. Grandmamma said I wasn't
sweeping-up kind of dirt; I was the kind of dirt you needed to
kick and scrape off the bottom of your shoes. ~ Jan Fink

Stop. You can't love me because you're lonely, or because I am the only one who doesn't piss you off. I want to piss you off, I want to get on your fucking nerves. I don't want the responsibility of always being your rock. I will try, but I'm a mess, too. I lie, I sleep too much and I don't like children under the age of 6, really. I don't even know if I want kids because I'm selfish, and mothers can't be selfish once they decide to carry another life.
I'm always looking for the rain to come so I trip over my own feet. I know exactly what the air smells like before a storm.
Before you fall in love with me, I want you to know that I cry a lot because it feels good, and I masturbate at least 4 times a week, and you might fall out of love with me before either of us are ready for it.
I have no experience with this. I'm trying to be brave and smart but its almost impossible to be both at the same time.
You can't love me like a fire escape. Sometimes I will be the match, or the smoke under the door. I don't know what I'm doing, all I know is that we all catch fire sometimes, before we even get warm.
Before you fall in love with me, I want you to know that there's a 50% chance that this won't work, that one of us will wind up hating the other. I will try to keep your head above water, but sometimes I'll need help, too.
I can't be your savior, and I don't expect you to be mine. Just watch me unfold and I'll watch you unfold, too. We'll get drunk and tel ~ Caitlyn S.

Victor said, 'I'm going to take this axe and I'm going to hack off one of your hands. The blade is dull and I couldn't find a whetstone so it might take a couple of blows to do the job, so you'll need to be patient. The pain and the fear will be like nothing you've ever experienced, but the horror of watching the stump where your wrist used to be spray blood everywhere is going to be like nothing you can even imagine. At that point you won't be worried by what your employers might do to you. You'll bleed to death in about two minutes. Which is why I'm telling you now: don't forget the stove. When I sever your hand, you're going to be free of that post. It's only 20 feet to that stove, but it's going to feel like a mile. Focus on it now, because you're going to be in shock. When you cauterise the wound against the cast iron, you're probably going to pass out, but I'll wake you up again. If your heart stops, I'll use the epinephrine you brought to bring you back. If you don't talk to me then, if you don't give what I want to know about your employers, I'll take your other hand. After that, I'll start improvising. Are you ready?' Niven's gaze flicked between the axe and Victor's eyes. 'You… you can't be serious.' Victor raised the axe. ~ Tom Wood

I have an idea." Leo rose slowly to his feet. "Yeah? Will I like it?" Alex backed away. "Oh, I think so. It involves cuffs…." Leo grinned. "My kind of idea." Alex's eyes sparkled. "And you, chained to the bed." Another step back toward the door. Leo stilled. "Just to clarify something. Where do you feature in this plan?" "I'll be the one riding your dick," Alex replied hoarsely. "After my tongue has had its wicked way with your arse, of course." Fuck. The air was alive with sexual electricity. Leo was as hard as steel. "Get the cuffs from the toy box." Alex grinned. "They're already waiting on the bed." And with that he took off, dashing up the stairs, laughing. Leo wasn't far behind. ~ K.C. Wells

Um, Bella? You've got a huge cut on your forehead, and it's gushing blood," he informed me.
I clapped my hand over my head. Sure enough, it was wet and sticky. I could smell nothing but the damp moss on my face, and that held off the nausea.
Oh, I'm so sorry, Jacob." I pushed hard against the gash, as if I could force the blood back inside my head.
Why are you apologizing for bleeding?" he wondered as he wrapped a long arm around my waist and and pulled me to my feet. ~ Stephenie Meyer

Will: Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if you never met your wife?

Sean: What? Do I wonder if I'd be better off if I never met my wife? No, that's okay. It's an important question. 'Cause you'll have your bad times, which wake you up to the good stuff you weren't paying attention to. And you can fail, as long as you're trying hard. But there's nothing worse than regret.

Will: You don't regret meetin' your wife?

Sean: Why? Because of the pain I feel now? I have regrets Will, but I don't regret a single day I spent with her.

Will: When did you know she was the one?

Sean: October 21, 1975. Game six of the World Series. Biggest game in Red Sox history. Me and my friends slept out on the sidewalk all night to get tickets. We were sitting in a bar waiting for the game to start and in walks this girl. What a game that was. Tie game in the bottom of the tenth inning, in steps Carlton Fisk, hit a long fly ball down the left field line. Thirty-five thousand fans on their feet, screamin' at the ball to stay fair. Fisk is runnin' up the baseline, wavin' at the ball like a madman. It hits the foul pole, home run. Thirty-five thousand people went crazy. And I wasn't one of them.

Will: Where were you?

Sean: I was havin' a drink with my future wife.

Will: You missed Pudge Fisk's home run to have a drink with a woman you had never met?

Sean: That's right.

Will: So wait ~ Matt Damon

Can you sharpen this for me, please?"

Logan leaned across the table and took the pencil from him. "You want me to play with your pencil, Tate?"

"Hilarious. The sharpener is right by you. You just have to pick it up and slide it in."

As soon as the words left his mouth and Logan's quirked into an arrogant line, Tate bit his tongue.

"Really? Did you really just say that to me?"

Feeling more comfortable than ever with Logan and this group, Tate shrugged and nodded. Time to give it to Logan as good as he gives.

"Yeah. Is there a problem? You just line it up...and slide it in."

"You know, Tate - "

"Don't do it." Tate cut him off as he moved his foot, the one he'd had sitting between Logan's feet all night, so his shin bumped Logan's calf.

"Do what?"

"Say something dirty. I know you're dying to, but just sharpen the pencil."

Logan picked up the sharpener and made a big show of inserting the tip in the hole.

"Jesus," Shelly muttered from beside Logan. "I thought Rachel and Cole were bad. ~ Ella Frank

I snipped off the stem and took a knee.
"For you, my love. A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet as your feet."
Jules smacked me on the back of the head. ~ B. Justin Shier

Izzy, are you - " he began. His eyes flew wide, and he backed up fast enough to smack his head into the wall behind him. "What is he doing here?"
Isabelle tugged her tank top back down and glared at her brother. "You don't knock now?"
"It - It's my bedroom!" Alec spluttered. He seemed to be deliberately trying not to look at Izzy and Simon, who were indeed in a very compromising position. Simon rolled quickly off Isabelle, who sat up, brushing herself off as if for lint. Simon sat up more slowly, trying to hold the torn edges of his shirt together. "Why are all my clothes on the floor?" Alec said.
"I was trying to find something for Simon to wear," Isabelle explained. "Maureen put him in leather pants and a puffy shirt because he was being her romance-novel slave."
"He was being her what?"
"Her romance-novel slave," Isabelle repeated, as if Alec were being particularly dense.
Alec shook his head as if he were having a bad dream. "You know what? Don't explain. Just - put your clothes on, both of you. ~ Cassandra Clare

You would sleep beneath a roof tonight, you must climb off your horses and cross the mud with me. The path of faith, we call it. Only the faithful may cross safely. The wicked are swallowed by the quicksands, or drowned when the tide comes rushing in. None of you are wicked, I hope? Even so, I would be careful where I set my feet. Walk only where I walk, and you shall reach the other side. The path of faith was a crooked one, Brienne could not help but note. ~ George R R Martin

Charlemagne opened his mouth to protest, but immediately snapped it shut and slapped a hand over his nose, a look of disgust on his face. Primplepuss had struck again. Scrambling to his feet, Charlemagne hurried for the door and wrenched it open before glancing back at Maggie. The old man was struggling to escape from beneath the enormous cat's weight. "We can discuss this later, Maggie," he said. "Perhaps tonight, on the battlements, where our thoughts might be clearer." And he hurried off, ignoring Maggie's pleas for help to get the cat off him.
"Sharley, wait! Give ma a hand! This cat's so heavy --oh, my God! No! How can you smell like that and live? Sharley, help!"
An already distance voice floated back into his room. "Sorry, can't stop. I value my nostrils."
"Prince Charlemagne, for the love of all that's decent! My God, cat, if we could harness your arse we could repel any invasion! How do you do it?"
A small questioning meow was the only reply Maggie received as he flapped a handkerchief under his nose and tried to breath through his mouth without retching. ~ Stuart Hill

The front door of the Flippant Witch gave a series of loud clicks and swung inward. Renard Lambert, his blue-and-purple finery resembling a plum in the twitching lanterns, practically hurled himself through the open doorway
"Widdershins!" he called loudly, cape flowing behind him, "I - gaaack!" He ducked, barely in time to avoid the carafe that shattered loudly against the wall just behind his head. The tinkling of broken glass, a dangerous entry chime indeed, sounded around him.
"Oh," Genevieve said, her tone only vaguely contrite. "It's just your friend. Sorry, Renard."
"Sorry? Sorry?! What the hell were you - ah. Um, hello, ah, Widdershins."
Widdershins, who had lurched to her feet as the door opened, was suddenly and forcibly reminded by Renard's stunned stare that Genevieve had disrobed her in order to get at the rapier wound. Blushing as furiously as a nun in a brothel, she ducked behind her blonde-haired friend and groped desperately for her shirt.
"Didn't mean to take your head off, Renard," Genevieve said, mainly to distract him. "But you rather startled us."
"Quite understandable," the popinjay responded absently, his eyes flickering madly as he fought to locate some safe place to put them. ~ Ari Marmell

Sometimes standing for something is simply not enough......Espeacially when life blows you a mighty wind inwhich knocks you off of your feet or the very thing that kept you grounded is taken away,Convusion and Elusion can very well become your concrete. ~ Tamika Barr