Lady Door Quotes

The marquis de Carabas was not a good man, and he knew himself well enough to be perfectly certain that he was not a brave man. He had long since decided that the world, Above or Below, was a place that wished to be deceived, and, to this end, he had named himself from a lie in a fairy tale, and created himself
his clothes, his manner, his carriage
as a grand joke.
There was a dull pain in his wrists and his feet, and he was finding it harder and harder to breathe. There was nothing more to be gained by feigning unconsciousness, and he raised his head, as best he could, and spat a gob of scarlet blood into Mr. Vandemar's face.
It was a brave thing to do, he thought. And a stupid one. Perhaps they would have let him die quietly, if he had not done that. Now, he had no doubt, they would hurt him more.
And perhaps his death would come the quicker for it. ~ Neil Gaiman

Hold fast," he called. "Tell me your names, and your stations."
"I am the Lady Door," said Door. "I am Portico's daughter, of the House of the Arch."
"I am Hunter. I am her bodyguard."
"Richard Mayhew," said Richard. "Wet. ~ Neil Gaiman

A man was standing at the end of the hallway, just outside an open door, from where a great light shone, illuminating him almost as a god. ~ John Boyne

Where is he?"
"Through the rabbit hole, Alice," Asmoday instructs, gesturing with a sweep of his hand in the direction of the door.
"Off to see the Mad Hatter, I suppose."
"Indeed."
"So," Keely asks as she brushes past her brother, hand on the door knob. "What's that make you? Twiddle Dee or Twiddle Dum? ~ Cheryl McIntyre

When one doors closes, another door opens. ~ Helen Keller

When twelve who wander stand as one
Through the door the dark will come.
The key will be revealed in turn
Unlock the way and you shall learn ... ~ Galen Beckett

It was the American middle class. No one's house cost more than two or three year's salary, and I doubt the spread in annual wages (except for the osteopath) exceeded more than five thousand dollars. And other than the doctor (who made house calls), the store managers, the minister, the salesman, and the banker, everyone belonged to a union. That meant they worked a forty-hour week, had the entire weekend off (plus two to four weeks' paid vacation in the summer), comprehensive medical benefits, and job security. In return for all that, the country became the most productive in the world and in our little neighborhood it meant your furnace was always working, your kids could be dropped off at the neighbors without notice, you could run next door anytime to borrow a half-dozen eggs, and the doors to all the homes were never locked
because who would need to steal anything if they already had all that they needed? ~ Michael Moore

In North Carolina, I stopped to gas up at a Humble Oil station, then walked around the corner to use the toilet. There were two doors and three signs. MEN was neatly stenciled over one door, LADIES over the other. The third sign was an arrow on a stick. It pointed toward the brush-covered slope behind the station. It said COLORED. Curious, I walked down the path, being careful to sidle at a couple of points where the oily, green-shading-to-maroon leaves of poison ivy were unmistakable ... There was no facility. What I found at the end of the path was a narrow stream with a board laid across it on a couple of crumbling concrete posts ... If I ever give you the idea that 1958's all Andy-n-Opie, remember the path, okay? The one lined with poison ivy. And the board over the stream. ~ Stephen King

You have the greatest ass I've ever laid eyes on," he said matterof-
factly.

"Thanks! I take that as a compliment, considering all the ass you've
laid eyes on. But I'm still taking a shower by myself," she said with a
smile before closing the bathroom door. ~ Jessica Jayne

Life is a journey. Time is a river. The door is ajar ~ Jim Butcher

KING (to Sakuntala): O fair lady!
The tear drop that once stood
trembling on your lower lip
-and I watched uncaring, lost in delusion-
while it still clings to your gently-curving lashes,
I shall now wipe away, my beloved,
to free myself of remorse. ~ Kalidasa

I have heard with admiring submission the experience of the lady who declared that the sense of being well dressed gives a feeling of inward tranquility which religion is powerless to bestow. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Britt said "If you will excuse me, My Lady."
"You leave?"
"I do."
"How can you?"
"Quite easily, I assure you."
Tears welled up in Guinevere's eyes. "Will you not give me a token to remember you by?"
Britt frowned. "You're nuts aren't you?" she said before recovering and adopting the proper words. "Forgive me, My Lady, but we have met for but a few moments. What is there to remember? ~ K.M. Shea

Philosophy is like trying to open a safe with a combination lock: each little adjustment of the dials seems to achieve nothing, only when everything is in place does the door open. ~ Ludwig Wittgenstein

No, sweetheart, you don't understand," Noc declared, striding through the door and into the
hall. "They didn't get it. Now they'll get it. ~ Kristen Ashley

Money in hand, I glanced up to find Glenn eyeing a rack of stuffed rats. As the salesman rang up my purchase, Glenn leaned close and, still staring at the rats, whispered, "What are those used for?"
"I have no idea." I got my receipt and jammed everything in my bag…

Glenn surprised me by opening the car door for me, and as I settled in the seat, he leaned against the frame of the open window. "I'll be right back," he said, and strode inside. He was out in a moment with a small white bag. I watched him cross in front of the car - wondering. Timing himself between the traffic, he opened the door and slid in behind the wheel.

"Well?" I asked as he set the package between us. "What did you get?" Glenn started the car and pulled out into traffic. "A stuffed rat."

"Oh," I said, surprised. What the devil was he going to do with it? Even I didn't know what it was for. I was dying to ask all the way to the FIB building but managed to keep my mouth shut even as we slipped into the cold shade of their underground parking. ~ Kim Harrison

Zane rolled his eyes. "I hope your insurance is up to date," he said as they stopped at another door. "Grady doesn't forget people who fuck around with him. ~ Abigail Roux

A true lady never lets someone know when he's riled her; otherwise she's giving away her power and her crown. ~ Carolyn Brown

At the door, Audrey called, "Are you coming?"
"No, just breathing hard, love." He glanced at her and was rewarded by an outraged glare, followed by, "Oh, my God! ~ Ilona Andrews

Another One'

When you're a child you learn there are three dimensions
Height, width and depth
Like a shoebox
Then later you hear there's a fourth dimension
Time
Hmm
Then some say there can be five, six, seven…

I knock off work
Have a beer at the bar
I look down at the glass and feel glad.



'Poem'

I'm in the house
It's nice out
Warm
Sun on cold snow
First day of spring
Or last day of winter

My legs run up the stairs
And out the door
My top half here writing. ~ Ron Padgett

Tell me, Lady Angeline, is there a color not represented in your rather splendid riding hat? It would be a shame if there were. It would be sitting all alone on a palette somewhere, feeling rejected and dejected. ~ Mary Balogh

So you can't just blame the person who leaves. If two people are unhappy, clocking the person who actually walks out the door is just getting them on a technicality. ~ Rebecca Serle

There are two distinct sides to a writer of fiction. First, there is the side he displays to the public, that of an ordinary person like anyone else, a person who does ordinary things and speaks an ordinary language. Second, there is the secret side, which comes out in him only after he has closed the door of his workroom and is completely alone. It is then that he slips into another world altogether, a world where his imagination takes over and he finds himself actually living in the places he is writing about at that moment. ~ Roald Dahl

The cover of a book is akin to the door of a home; if it is welcoming and enticing, it beckons you and your visit will be all the more pleasurable and desirable. ~ J.E. Rogers

Sometimes Valène dreamt of cataclysms and tempests, of whirlwinds that would carry the whole house off like a wisp of straw and display the infinite marvels of the solar system to its shipwrecked inhabitants; or that an unseen crack would run through the building from top to bottom, like a shiver, and with a long, deep, snapping sound it would open in two and be slowly swallowed up in an indescribable yawning chasm; then hordes would overrun it, bleary-eyed monsters, giant insects with steel mandibles, blind termites, great white worms with insatiable mouths: the wood would crumble, the stone would turn to sand, the cupboards would collapse under their own weight, all would return to dust. But no. Only these shabby squabbles over buckets and tubs, over matches and sinks. And behind that ever-closed door the morbid gloom of that slow revenge, that ponderous business of two senile monomaniacs churning over their feigned histories and their wretched traps and snares. ~ Georges Perec

Tell me one thing. Has Rider Sinclair done something to hurt you in any way? If he has,I'll shoot that man!"
Willow was taken aback by Miriam's vehemence. "No,no," she hastily assured. "He might have hurt my feelings some but that's all."
"I noticed he wasn't being very gentlemanly, but I overlooked it because I thought perhaps he was still showing his temper over the Scofield incident."
"You're probably right. But, Miriam, this ain't, er,isn't about Sinclair, not entirely anyway. It's about me." Willow's smile was sad. "Being a man would be easier and a hell of a lot more fun but I ain't built right. So, I want you to teach me how to look and act like a fine and proper lady. You will, won't you?"
Merry chuckles bubbled and rolled out of Miriam. "Oh, Willow!" More chuckles. "I know I shouldn't laugh right now, but I can't help myself. You say the most awful things!"
Willow didn't know if she should be insulted or not, but since it was Miriam laughing at her, she gave her the benefit of the doubt. "I know my wanting to be a real lady is funny, but not that funny."
"No,no." Miriam laughed, gasping for breath. "No that, the part about you're not being built right. ~ Charlotte McPherren

I leaned against my door, struggling to catch my breath, and thought that maybe hell wasn't a place at all, but a thing. A contagious thing. A thing that could creep up the steps, seep through the crack under my door, grow horns and sprout fire - smelling faintly like sulfur. A thing that could sink its tendrils inside and take root, coloring everything gray and distorting a smile into a sneer. And while i got dressed for the play, swatted at my back and kept running my hands over my stomach because I could feel it, I swear, I could feel it reaching for me, trying to grab hold. ~ Megan Miranda

All the rest of it has been so nice and even. And look at this! It's all over the place! Why, it looks as if she didn't know what she was about! (After she has said this they look at each other, then start to glance back at the door. After an instant MRS HALE has pulled at a knot and ripped the sewing.) ~ Susan Glaspell

One can go back to one's own home after a year's absence and immediately the door closes it is as if one had never been away. Or one can go back after a few hours and everything is so changed that one is a stranger. ~ Graham Greene

Heathers!" I said triumphantly. "I think I've got that one here somewhere."
"Hey. Ram, doesn't this cafeteria have a no-fags allowed policy?"
"What?"
"The answer is, 'They seem to have an open door policy on assholes, though, don't they?'"
I just stood there, trying to figure out if he was calling me a fag or an asshole or both, and he rolled his eyes at me again.
"It's a line from Heathers, man. ~ Marie Sexton

I was never happier than on the nights we stayed home, lying on the living room rug. We talked about classes and poetry and politics and sex. Neither of us were in love with the Iowa Writers' Workshop, but it didn't really matter because we had no place else to go. What we had was the little home we made together, our life in the ugly green duplex. We lived next door to a single mother named Nancy Tate who was generous in all matters. She would drive us to the grocery store and give us menthol cigarettes and come over late at night after her son was asleep to sit in our kitchen and drink wine and talk about Hegel and Marx. Iowa City in the eighties was never going to be Paris in the twenties, but we gave it our best shot. ~ Ann Patchett

Little girl, who gave you permission to--Oh!" She bit off her words the moment that she noticed how well I was dressed, to say nothing of the two guards attending me. Her expression transformed from sour to sweet with stunning speed.
"Ah, noble lady, I see that you have a keen eye for quality," she cried. "You won't find better cloth anywhere in Delphi--warm in winter, light in summer, tightly woven, and proof against wind and rain. And just look at those colors!"
I did. They were all drab grays and browns. I held the first cloth up to the sunlight. If that was what she called a tight weave, so was a fishing net.
"I want a cloak," I told her, tossing the cloth aside. "Something long and heavy. It's for him." I nodded at Milo.
"Of course, just as you wish, I have exactly what you want, wait right here," she chattered. "I'll bring out the best I have, something worthy of the noble lord." She raised her hands to Milo in a gesture of reverence before ducking back into her house.
"'The noble lord'?" the tall guard repeated, incredulous. He and his companion snickered. Milo looked miserable.
"Ignore them," I told him, speaking low. "I promise you, before today is over, you'll be the one laughing at them. ~ Esther M. Friesner

Hardly a man will you find who could live with his door open. ~ Seneca The Younger

So is it short for Doreen?" he asked. "What?" "Your name." "No. It's just Door." "How do you spell it?" "D-o-o-r. Like something you walk through to go places." "Oh." He had to say something, so he said: "What kind of a name is Door, then?" And she looked at him with her odd-colored eyes, and she said, "My name." Then she went back to Jane Austen. ~ Neil Gaiman

The well-mannered man never puts out his hand in greeting until a lady extends hers. This is a test of good breeding that is constantly applied ... The first move in the direction of cordiality must come from the lady, the whole code of behaviour being based on the assumption that she is the social superior. ~ Humphry Davy

It's a dark, cool, quiet place. A basement in your soul. And that place can sometimes be dangerous to the human mind. I can open the door and enter that darkness, but I have to be very careful. I can find my story there. Then I bring that thing to the surface, into the real world. ~ Haruki Murakami

When the kite was finished, it refused to fly and kept slamming into the ground as if it wanted to destroy itself, and finally it threw itself in the march. Sophia put it outside Grandmother's door and went away. ~ Tove Jansson

Ce fut le temps sous de clairs ciels,
(Vous en souvenez-vous, Madame?)
De baisers superficiels
Et des sentiments à fleur d'âme.

It was a time of cloudless skies,
(My lady, do you recall?)
Of kisses that brushed the surface
And feelings that shook the soul. ~ Paul Verlaine

You can't come in without an invitation."
He leans a shoulder against Alison's framed photo of a wheat field at harvest. "That so?" His boot heel nudges the door behind him, shutting out the storm and the scent of rain. "Last I checked, I wasn't a vampire," he says, his voice low.
My fists clench tighter, and I step backward onto the line of carpet that borders the edge of the living room. "You sure have a lot in common with one."
"Because I suck?"
"More proof. You just read my mind. ~ A.G. Howard

I had come to love the space, and I could see why Lady Anna had too. The orchids were positively glorious. She'd tagged each flower with its proper botanical name, but I favored the pet names she'd given each bloom. For instance, a stunning pink 'Cattleya' was named "Lady Catalina." And a yellow 'Oncidium,' which to me looked like a flock of ladies in fluffy party dresses, was called "Lady Aralia of the Bayou. ~ Sarah Jio

What! I don't care about being a princess! And since I'm already a young lady, how else could I behave? That's like asking a fish not to swim!"
~Princess Eilonwy, daughter of Angharad, daughter of Regat, of the Royal house of Llyr ~ Lloyd Alexander

When I left Merle was wearing a bungalow apron and rolling pie crust. She came to the door wiping her hands on the apron and kissed me on the mouth and began to cry and ran back into the house, leaving the doorway empty [ ... ] I had a funny feeling as I saw the house disappear, as though I had written a poem and it was very good and I had lost it and would never remember it again. (p. 262) ~ Raymond Chandler

The long horizon, the lunging, clotted sea like a swinging door opening, closing, opening. ~ Annie Proulx

To the Thawing Wind"

Come with rain, O loud Southwester!
Bring the singer, bring the nester;
Give the buried flower a dream;
Make the settled snow-bank steam;
Find the brown beneath the white;
But whate'er you do to-night,
Bathe my window, make it flow,
Melt it as the ice will go;
Melt the glass and leave the sticks
Like a hermit's crucifix;
Burst into my narrow stall;
Swing the picture on the wall;
Run the rattling pages o'er;
Scatter poems on the floor;
Turn the poet out of door. ~ Robert Frost

In '57, I got a job at the Blue Angel nightclub, and a gentleman named Ken Welch wrote all my material for me. I lived at a place called the Rehearsal Club that was actually the basis for a play called Stage Door. ~ Carol Burnett

Every second a million petitions wing past the ear of God. Let it be door number two. Get Janet through this. Make Mom fall in love again, make the pain go away, make this key fit. If I fish this cove, plant this field, step into this darkness, give me the strength to see it through. Help my marriage, my sister, me. What will this fund be worth in thirteen days? In thirteen years? Will I be around in thirteen years? And the most unanswerable of unanswerables: Don't let me die. And: What will happen afterward? Chandeliers and choirs? Flocks of souls like starlings harrying across the sky? Eternity; life again as bacteria, or as sunflowers, or as a leatherback turtle; suffocating blackness; cessation of all cellular function. ~ Anthony Doerr