Leave A Note Quotes

I just...Leave a note. Or tell me next time.'
'Would you have let me go if I had?'
'I do not LET you do anything.' He tilted my face up, Mor and Azriel looking away. 'You are your own person, you make your own choices. But we are mates-- I am yours, and you are mine. We do not let each other do things, as if we dictate the movements of each other. But...I might have insisted I go with you More for my own mental well-being, just to know you were safe. ~ Sarah J. Maas

He seemed only ... annoyed. Annoyed, and sweaty, and hot.
"Yeah, well," he said, "the next time you decide to sneak out of our magically warded apartment through a door that shouldn't really exist, leave a note. ~ Cassandra Clare

I found a narrow slot in which to leave my vehicle. I had to bash the bumper of an SUV to squeeze into the nook, but I didn't exactly shed a tear over the event and no, I didn't leave a note. That's what they get for parking too close to a fire hydrant, with one wheel on the curb. An asshole who leaves his (or her) vehicle in such a fashion deserves whatever automotive detailing inconvenience comes his (or her) way. ~ Cherie Priest

I'll leave a note in the lobby that says, "Moved. 315." You had a meeting with me at 3:00 in room 315. The number 315 confuses you, so you wonder, "Did the room get moved, or the time?" Both did. You're to meet me at 3:33 in room 333. ~ Jarod Kintz

Genuinely support people in ways you can. If you build great relationships and people get to like you for you, they will eventually promote what you do and would want to do business with you. The bottom line is that people love to do business with those they love and trust. Learn to understand people, your audience, their needs, and their real problem. If you are using a Facebook page or even your own profile, involve your friends in a fruitful discussion. Don't just make a post and leave to expect likes and comments. Take time to leave a note for a friend, ask about their business and what interests them. ~ Bernard Kelvin Clive

You might start by thanking me."
For what? For finding something else that was so important to do that it took you all the way from midnight on Samhain ‗til four days later to come for me? I'm not going to thank you for saving me from something you failed to save me from to begin with."

You look fine to me.
In fact, you're better than fine, aren't you? You walked right through my wards, without a word. Didn't even leave a note by the bedside. Really,after all we shared, Ms. Lane. But do I get any thanks for doing the
impossible and bringing you back from being Pri-ya? No. What do I get? You steal my guns. ~ Karen Marie Moning

If you boys want to beat each other's guts out, I'm willing to let you, but I'd rather get Cam someplace safe and find out what she's doing walking the streets at five in the bloody morning." She started back down the alley, then stopped and added, "Oh, and Zach, if you're going to run away from school, leave a note. Even Cam did that. ~ Ally Carter

Actually this is really funny - one time she accidentally forgot to leave a note and I had no idea she had even moved. I was living in the house with a beautiful Mexican family for three months before I realized they weren't my cousins visiting from out of town. They were so nice. They called me "Quien es, quien es," which I thought was a beautiful name. ~ Ellen DeGeneres

I'll leave a note to the rector of the cathedral and remind him that a woman gave him birth. Something for him to think about the next time he gives one of his sermons. I'm writing all this down. ~ Benjamin Alire Saenz

I left a note for my mother. I always leave a note for my mother when I am on a case. ~ Marjorie Weinman Sharmat

You love them all the more for their concern, but wish they'd get it through their heads that there are some people who don't need the constant companionship of other human beings in order to feel that their life has meaning." From "...He Didn't Even Leave a Note... ~ Gary A. Braunbeck

Temperance Dews stood with quiet confidence, a respectable women who lived in the sewer that was St. Giles. Her eyes had widened at the sight of Lazarus, but she made no move to flee. Indeed, finding a strange man in her pathetic sitting room seemed not to frighten her at all.

Interesting.

"I am Lazarus Huntington, Lord Caire," he said.

"I know. What are you doing here?"

He tilted his head, studying her. She knew him, yet did not recoil in horror? Yes, she'd do quite well. "I've come to make a proposition to you, Mrs. Dews."

Still no sign of fear, though she eyed the doorway. "You've chosen the wrong woman, my lord. The night is late. Please leave my house."

No fear and no deference to his rank. An interesting woman indeed.

"My proposition is not, er, illicit in nature," he drawled. "In fact, it's quite respectable. Or nearly so."

She sighed, looked down at her tray, and then back up at him. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

He almost smiled. Tea? When had he last been offered something so very prosaic by a woman? He couldn't remember.

But he replied gravely enough. "Thank you, no."

She nodded. "Then if you don't mind?"

He waved a hand to indicate permission.

She set the tea tray on the wretched little table and sat on the padded footstool to pour herself a cup. He watched her. She was a monochromatic study. Her dress, bodice, hose, and s ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

You died here," I said quietly.

"October -"

"I wasn't here, and the girl I'm supposed to be finding was, and you died ." I looked up at him, glaring through the tears in my eyes. I left my fingers balanced on the floor, letting his blood sing its song of pain and longing. Longing to live; refusal to let go of the world. Maybe that's what differentiates the Kings and Queens of Cats from the rest of Faerie. They have a cat's stubbornness and the power to back it up. So when death says, "Go," they just refuse.

My heart hurt. My heart hurt so badly, and I was still trying to recover from Connor, and oh, Titania, I couldn't do this again. The thought startled me. I froze where I was, still glaring.

Tybalt sighed. "I know." he hesitated before adding, "This is not the time, and this is not the place, and my nephew needs us. But I ask you to consider this. I got better. I will always get better." He hesitated again - possibly the first time I'd ever seen him pause more than once after he'd decided he was going to say something.

Finally, he said, "Some of us, October, will not leave you. ~ Seanan McGuire

Why aren't we moving?" Tucker swings his bloodshot eyes toward the backseat. "We have a baby in this truck, Sabrina." "I know." He swallows hard. "This is fucked up. We shouldn't be allowed to leave the hospital with a kid. I've never even had a pet before. ~ Elle Kennedy

Anything that happens after I write a song ... that's fine with me. It's up to the listener to read into it what they need from it. And that's part of the reason I write like I do, so I can leave the holes in the right places so people can say, 'Yeah, that happened to me,' and they're able to have their own little fantasy about it. ~ Guy Clark

What is your idea of you? Who is it that you have decided to become? If your greatest work of art is the life you live, and ultimately life is a creative act, what life will you choose to leave behind as your masterpiece? ~ Erwin Raphael McManus

After a childhood reading fairy tales and myths, is it any wonder that when I began to write my own stories I included fairy tales? Fairy tales are storytelling at its most basic. They've been with mankind for as long as people have told stories to each other. Fairy tales speak to something intrinsic in humans - they touch our most primitive selves. How else to explain that the Cinderella story is told in nearly every society on earth? To think of fairy tales as merely stories for children is to ignore thousands of years when fairy tales were used to teach morality, to warn, and to entertain both children and adults. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

We defy augury. There is special providence in
the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to
come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come - the
readiness is all. Since no man, of aught he leaves, knows what is't
to leave betimes, let be. (Hamlet 5.2.217-224) ~ William Shakespeare

Islam, Christianity, and Buddhism each have founder figures - Muhammad, Jesus, and the Buddha, respectively. And in thinking about these founder figures, I believe we must finally conclude that each brought a message of radical hope. To seventh-century Arabia, Muhammad brought the promise that anyone could find fulfillment and everlasting life through allegiance to the one true God. The Buddha held out hope that suffering could be transcended. Jesus brought the message that the last shall be first, that even the tax collectors and lepers - the outcasts - had cause for hope. And so that is the question I leave you ~ John Green

Living in the past is always a bad idea; yet, on some level I believe the ones we love, even though not part of our present, are the very definition of who we are, the driving force of what we aspire to be, and at the end of the day, the past we must look to in order to improve who we will become. After all, we do not learn from what has not happened, but what has been, and what we will choose to keep or leave behind. Friendship, true friendship is never blind, but it holds the value of forgiveness - separating what we may or may have not done within the realm of mistakes....seeking the outcome of making us into better people. ~ Tony C. Skye

Take hold of kettle, broom, and pan, then you'll surely get a man! Shop and office leave alone, Your true life's work lies at home. - COMMON GERMAN RHYME OF THE 1930S ~ David R. Gillham

The round silence of night,
one note on the stave
of the infinite.

Ripe with lost poems,
I step naked into the street.
The blackness riddled
by the singing of crickets:
sound,
that dead
will-o'-the-wisp,
that musical light
perceived
by the spirit.

A thousand butterfly skeletons
sleep within my walls.

A wild crowd of young breezes
over the river.

- Hour of Stars (1920) ~ Federico Garcia Lorca

Those who pass by us, do not go alone, and do not leave us alone; they leave a bit of themselves, and take a little of us. ~ Antoine De Saint Exupery

I've been born into a broken world and my purpose is to make sure when I leave it, know I have left my mark of kindness on it somewhere. ~ Nikki Rowe

Third issue, and again I think it is important to note, anyone can make a mistake and any administration can make a mistake once in a while, but this is just a long train of abuses, an unbroken chain of following special interests rather than the health of the American people. ~ Jay Inslee

Leave a door open long enough, a cat will enter. Leave food, it will stay. ~ Jane Hirshfield

In the silence of their studios, busied for days at a time with works which leave the mind relatively free, painters become like women; their thoughts can revolve around the minor facts of life and penetrate their hidden meaning. ~ Honore De Balzac

A snowman in a town where it didn't snow, made by a boy who couldn't wait to leave, and given to a girl who had never belonged. ~ Robyn Schneider

Why, I ... I still like you." Nerves fluttered in her chest, but she kept her tone light. "Do you like me?"
A few moments passed in silence. She would have counted them in heartbeats, but her foolish heart had become a most unreliable timepiece. It gave three pounding beats in a flurry, then none at all.
Just when she'd begun to despair, he turned his head, catching her in a passionate, openmouthed kiss. He put both arms around her, fisting his hands in the fabric of her dress, lifting her up and against his chest. So that her body recalled every inch of his, every second of their blissful lovemaking. The now-familiar ache returned - that sweet, hollow pang of desire that only deepened as his tongue flickered over hers. In a matter of seconds, he had her gasping. Needing. Damp.
Then he set her back on her toes. Pressed his brow to hers and released a deep, resonant sigh. And just before turning to leave, he spoke a single word.
He said, "No. ~ Tessa Dare

The civilization of ancient Greece was nurtured within city walls. In fact, all the modern civilizations have their cradles of brick and mortar.
These walls leave their mark deep in the minds of men. They set up a principle of "divide and rule" in our mental outlook, which begets in us a habit of securing all our conquests by fortifying them and separating them from one another. We divide nation and nation, knowledge and knowledge, man and nature. It breeds in us a strong suspicion of whatever is beyond the barriers we have built, and everything has to fight hard for its entrance into our recognition. ~ Rabindranath Tagore

I haven't a clue about the biology or the psychology involved when a person dissolves into tears, but it is quite fascinating to note what turns them on. There are wives who can cascade over a late husband or a burned dinner, and equally pour tears of joy over a new bonnet or a renovated bathroom ... A while ago I took a ship back from Europe. Amid the tumbling confetti ... I found myself misty-eyed watching a young lady waving a tearful farewell to her boyfriend on the dock. I couldn't figure out if I was crying at her plight, or in delight that he wasn't coming along with us. ~ Malcolm Forbes

I wondered – would a bullet through my temple actually kill me or just leave a really big mess for me to clean up? (Jacob) ~ Stephenie Meyer

He showed the fineness of his nature by being kinder to me after that misunderstanding than before. Nay, the very incident which, by my theory, must in some degree estrange me and him, changed, indeed, somewhat our relations; but not in the sense I painfully anticipated. An invisible, but a cold something, very slight, very transparent, but very chill: a sort of screen of ice had hitherto, all through our two lives, glazed the medium through which we exchanged intercourse. Those few warm words, though only warm with anger, breathed on that frail frost-work of reserve; about this time, it gave note of dissolution. I think from that day, so long as we continued friends, he never in discourse stood on topics of ceremony with me. ~ Charlotte Bronte

I was Olivia, and I sat in a rowboat oared by Sage along the Tiber River.
"If you think the Society is so ridiculous, tell your father you refuse to go!" I said.
"Really? And lose my share of the family fortune? I'd be destitute. You'd have to leave me for a Medici-a fiancé who could keep you in the style to which you're accustomed."
"Paints, canvas, and you. That's all I need. Maybe a little extra artistic talent."
Sage gave me a pointed look. He loved my artwork and always gave me a hard time for doubting my own ability. I liked to remind him he was biased.
"How about food?" he asked. "You'd need food."
"Wild fruits and vegetables."
"Roof over your head?"
"We'll build a hut."
"Clothing?"
I gave Sage a knowing smile, and he almost tipped the boat.
"Sage!" I cried, holding the sides for dear life. "I can't swim!"
"I'm sorry, but that was an absolutely valid response. Any man would tell you the same."
I laughed. "So what do you do in the Society meetings?"
"I can't tell you. I'm sworn to absolute secrecy." He said it with a haughty affectation that I mimicked as I pretended to zip closed my lips and throw away the key.
"My lips are sealed," I intoned.
"Really? Because mine are not. ~ Hilary Duff

Nothin very bad happen to me lately.
How you explain that? --I explain that, Mr
Bones,
terms o' your bafflin odd sobriety.
Sober as man can get, no girls, no telephones,
what could happen bad to Mr Bones?
--If life is a handkerchief sandwich,

in a modesty of death I join my father
who dared so long agone leave me.
A bullet on a concrete stoop
close by a smothering southern sea
spreadeagled on an island, by my knee.
--You is from hunger, Mr Bones,

I offers you this handkerchief, now set
your left foot by my right foot,
shoulder to shoulder, all that jazz,
arm in arm, by the beautiful sea,
hum a little, Mr Bones.
--I saw nobody coming, so I went instead. ~ John Berryman

At a conservative estimate, one million dollars will be spent by American readers for this book [For Whom the Bell Tolls]. They will get for their money 34 pages of permanent value. These 34 pages tell of a massacre happening in a little Spanish town in the early days of the Civil War...Mr. Hemingway: please publish the massacre scene separately, and then forget For Whom the Bell Tolls; please leave stories of the Spanish Civil War to Malraux... ~ Commonweal

I have often felt a motion of love to leave some hints in writing of my experience of the goodness of God, and now, in the thirty-sixth year of my age, I begin this work. ~ John Woolman

In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who in despite of view is pleased to dote;
Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted,
Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
To any sensual feast* with thee alone*:
But my five wits* nor my five senses can
Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
Who leaves unsway'd the likeness of a man*,
Thy proud hearts slave and vassal wretch to be:
Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
That she that makes me sin awards me pain. ~ William Shakespeare

Why do you follow me?-
Any moment I can be
Nothing but a laurel tree.

Any moment of the chase
I can leave you in my place
A pink bough for your embrace.

Yet if over hill and hollow
Still it is your will to follow,
I am off; - to heel, Apollo! ~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

The effects which follow too constant and intense a concentration upon evil are always disastrous. Those who crusade, not for God in themselves, but against the devil in others, never succeed in making the world better, but leave it either as it was, or sometimes even perceptibly worse than it was, before the crusade began. By thinking primarily of evil we tend, however excellent our intentions, to create occasions for evil to manifest itself. ~ Aldous Huxley

Karen: It was a man's world. The whole world was a man's world but the recording industry .... it wasn't easy. You had to get some guy's approval to do just about anything and it seemed there were two ways to go about it. You either acted like one of the boys, which is the way I had found. Or you acted real girlie and flirty and batted your eyelashes. They liked that.
But Daisy, from the beginning, was sort of outside of all that. She was just sort of "Take me or leave me."
Daisy: I didn't care if I was famous or not. I didn't care if I got to sing on your record or not. All I wanted to do was make something interesting and original and cool. ~ Taylor Jenkins Reid

The trace I leave to me means at once my death, to come or already come, and the hope that it will survive me. It is not an ambition of immortality; it is fundamental. I leave here a bit of paper, I leave, I die; it is impossible to exit this structure; it is the unchanging form of my life. Every time I let something go, I live my death in writing. ~ Jacques Derrida

Why did the first settlers come?" Hildy asks me. "Why does anyone look for a new place to live?"
"Cuz the place yer a-leaving ain't worth staying for," Tam says. "Cuz the place yer a-leaving is so bad ye gotta leave. ~ Patrick Ness

And so I was left with a mantra, a sort of haiku version of our relationship: I don't regret one day I spent with him, nor did I leave a moment too soon. ~ Padma Lakshmi

There's a kind of time travel in letters, isn't there? I imagine you laughing at my small joke; I imagine you groaning; I imagine you throwing my words away. Do I have you still? Do I address empty air and the flies that will eat this carcass? You could leave me for five years, you could return never - and I have to write the rest of this not knowing. ~ Amal El-Mohtar

Sleeping on the Ceiling
It is so peaceful on the ceiling!
It is the Place de la Concorde.
The little crystal chandelier
is off, the fountain is in the dark.
Not a soul is in the park.
Below, where the wallpaper is peeling,
the Jardin des Plantes has locked its gates.
Those photographs are animals.
The mighty flowers and foliage rustle;
under the leaves the insects tunnel.
We must go under the wallpaper
to meet the insect-gladiator,
to battle with a net and trident,
and leave the fountain and the square.
But oh, that we could sleep up there ... ~ Elizabeth Bishop

She had to get used to her new name, The Drummer. Twelfth, and last in line, but on a good note, she had the most money, and more importantly, she was alive. ~ Dayna S. Rubin

Me dad planted that tree,' she said absently, pointing out through the old cracked window.
The great beech filled at least half the sky and shook shadows all over the house.
Its roots clutched the slope like a giant hand, holding the hill in place. Its trunk writhed with power, threw off veils of green dust, rose towering into the air, branched into a thousand shaded alleys, became a city for owls and squirrels. I had thought such trees to be as old as the earth, I never dreamed that a man could make them. Yet it was Granny Trill's dad who had planted this tree, had thrust in the seed with his finger. How old must he have been to leave such a mark? Think of Granny's age, and add his on top, and you were back at the beginning of the world. ~ Laurie Lee

I like to work in watercolor, with as little under-drawing as I can get away with. I like the unpredictability of a medium which is affected as much by humidity, gravity, the way that heavier particles in the wash settle into the undulations of the paper surface, as by whatever I wish to do with it. In other mediums you have more control, you are responsible for every mark on the page - but with watercolor you are in a dialogue with the paint, it responds to you and you respond to it in turn. Printmaking is also like this, it has an unpredictable element. This encourages an intuitive response, a spontaneity which allows magic to happen on the page. When I begin an illustration, I usually work up from small sketches - which indicate in a simple way something of the atmosphere or dynamics of an illustration; then I do drawings on a larger scale supported by studies from models - usually friends - if figures play a large part in the picture. When I've reached a stage where the drawing looks good enough I'll transfer it to watercolor paper, but I like to leave as much unresolved as possible before starting to put on washes. This allows for an interaction with the medium itself, a dialogue between me and the paint. Otherwise it is too much like painting by number, or a one-sided conversation. ~ Alan Lee (artist)

I know the Goliath Fucking Bird-Eating Spider can't fly because if it could, it would have a different name entirely. We would call it "sir" because it would be the dominant species on the planet. None of us would leave the house unless a Goliath Fucking Bird-Eating Spider said it was okay ~ David Wong