Let The Words Out Quotes

Just open your mouth and let the lightning come out. ~ Sijdah Hussain

Lot of talky-talk in there, they had to open the windows to let the words out, ~ Gregory Maguire

I wanted to tell her how much I liked her, how I felt this tugging feeling in my stomach that drew me close to her, but I couldn't let the words out of my mouth because it felt like unleashing something I couldn't control. ~ Ciara Smyth

There is basic equipment required: a headset, a Dictaphone to play the tapes that must be transcribed, and patience, a willingness to become a human conduit as the words of others enter through her ears, course through her veins, and drip out unseen through fast-moving fingertips. ~ Amy Rowland

I must quote from Dr. Faustus, with which the tragedy ends: "Often he talked of eternal grace, the poor man, and I don't know if it will be enough. But an understanding heart, believe me, is enough for everything."
Let us understand these words correctly. They are not proud or arrogant; on the contrary they are desperately modest. We really do not know any longer whether grace is enough, precisely because we are as we are and are beginning to see ourselves as we are. But at a time of overwhelming crisis, the questionable nature of grace, or rather our knowledge that we are unworthy of grace, compels us to understand and love mankind, the fallible mankind that we ourselves are. Behind this abysmal crisis, the archetype of the Eternal Feminine as earth and as Sophia would seem to be discernible; it is no accident that these words are spoken by Frau Schweigestill, the mother. That is to say, it is precisely in chaos, in hell, that the New makes its appearance. Did not Kwanyin descend into hell rather than spend her time with the serene music makers in heaven? ~ Erich Neumann

When you write songs, you can't really point out the exact thing you're inspired by. It's more a state or a mood or an atmosphere that you're trying to put into words. ~ Keren Ann

And to bring in a new word by the head and shoulders, they leave out the old one. ~ Michel De Montaigne

Funnel

The family story tells, and it was told true,
of my great-grandfather who begat eight
genius children and bought twelve almost-new
grand pianos. He left a considerable estate
when he died. The children honored their
separate arts; two became moderately famous,
three married and fattened their delicate share
of wealth and brilliance. The sixth one was
a concert pianist. She had a notable career
and wore cropped hair and walked like a man,
or so I heard when prying a childhood car
into the hushed talk of the straight Maine clan.
One died a pinafore child, she stays her five
years forever. And here is one that wrote-
I sort his odd books and wonder his once alive
words and scratch out my short marginal notes
and finger my accounts.
back from that great-grandfather I have come
to tidy a country graveyard for his sake,
to chat with the custodian under a yearly sun
and touch a ghost sound where it lies awake.
I like best to think of that Bunyan man
slapping his thighs and trading the yankee sale
for one dozen grand pianos. it fit his plan
of culture to do it big. On this same scale
he built seven arking houses and they still stand.
One, five stories up, straight up like a square
box, still dominates its coastal edge of land.
It is rented cheap in the summer musted air
to sneaker-footed families who pad through
its ro ~ Anne Sexton

Years ago I went to the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem and did what all tourists there do: wrote some words on a scrap of paper that I tucked into a crevice in the wall. When I closed my eyes and touched my head to the warm stone, it came to me: "All language is prayer." This must be so. Who is it we are speaking to when we speak to anyone? To that person, and also past him or her to Out There. If there is language, it means there is the possibility of being heard, being met, being loved. And reaching out to be heard, met, or loved is a holy act. Language is holy. ~ Zoketsu Norman Fischer

I sang out the words unflinchingly though, as I stomped around the toadstool in clouds of church-basement dust, with a damp Gnome hand clutched in each of mine. ~ Margaret Atwood

The Armadillo A big fiesta was announced on Lake Titicaca, and the armadillo, who was a very superior creature, wanted to dazzle everybody. Long beforehand, he set to weaving a cloak of such elegance that it would knock all eyes out. The fox noticed him at work. "Are you in a bad mood?" "Don't distract me. I'm busy." "What's that for?" The armadillo explained. "Ah," said the fox, savoring the words, "for the fiesta tonight?" "What do you mean, tonight?" The armadillo's heart sank. He had never been more sure of his time calculations. "And me with my cloak only half finished!" While the fox took off with a smothered laugh, the armadillo finished the cloak in a hurry. As time was flying, he had to use coarser threads, and the weave ended up too big. For this reason the armadillo's shell is tight-warped around the neck and very open at the back. (174) ~ Eduardo Galeano

Mr St. John entered the little telegraph office, gave in his message, and was exchanging a few words with the clerk, when a female voice was heard speaking in hurried accents. Frederick at the moment was behind the partition unseen by the newcomer.

'Young man, can I send a telegram off at once? It's in a hurry?'

'You can send a telegram,' responded the clerk. 'Where's it to?'

'Paris.'

'What's the message?'

'I've written it down, so that there may be no mistake. It's quite private, and must be kept so: a little matter that concerns nobody. And be particular, for it's from Castle Wafer. Will it reach Paris tonight?'

'Yes,' said the clerk, confidentially, as he counted the words.

'How much to pay?'

'Twelve-and-sixpence.'

'Twelve-and-sixpence! What a swindle.'

'You needn't pay it if you don't like.'

'But then the telegram would not go?'

'Of course it wouldn't.'

The sound of silver dashed down on the counter was heard. 'I can't stop to argue the charge, so I must pay it,' grumbled the voice. 'But it's a shame, young man.'

'The charges ain't of my fixing,' responded the young man. 'Good afternoon, ma'am.'

She bustled out again as hurriedly as she had come in, not having suspected that the wooden partition had any one behind it. ~ Mrs. Henry Wood

Could have been, mind you. And that's one big mother of a conditional. Because who's to say she wanted me in the same way? After all, she left me, didn't she? Maybe I didn't try too hard to get her to stay but what words are there for begging? Please? Don't go, honey? They're crippled halfwits, those sentences, and besides, who uses a lot of words in a friendship anyway? You run out of things to say pretty early on, that's my experience. Sure, you start off thick enough, so many words you could gag on them. The facts, and the sentences - and the sticky tears. Out it comes, out it all comes, the fat story of your life but before you know it you've talked your guts out and there's nothing left to say. You go to her, to confide, and choke up air. ~ Kirsty Gunn

Danny was unfazed at the size of the large-stomached man, with hairy arms waving about like a pizza chef, all violent gestures and shouting. His crude, pinch-faced wife spat salivated swear words at him. She was in her thirties and behaving like a grounded teenager, screaming at him to leave her property.
"One hundred thousand pesetas please." Danny took a bony, female fist to his cheek, jarring him. He shook it off.
"Two hundred thousand now."
She jabbed at him again, as her fist poked towards his nose, he head-butted it. She recoiled in pain gasping and nursing her hand. The husband, a chubby, but solid Valencian, went ape-shit and lobbed a hairy, dimpled fist at him, causing Danny to shift on his feet. He pulled his head out of the way with the skill of a middleweight. The man drew his fist from three o'clock and blasted scarred knuckles towards his face again. Danny's reaction was lightning; he caught the fist and held firm, flipped down the hood, his face showing something new. The man recoiled, recognising grim determination and knew this man would never give up. ~ Mark Shearman

What you said before…" He stopped and seemed to consider his words. "When you said love isn't about control…what did you mean?"
The insecurity in his voice charmed her down to her toes. "Well. I just think that love is supposed to empower, not subdue. To love someone unconditionally, is to give them the freedom to be who they are. There's no room for control. If you're telling someone who they should or
shouldn't be…well, that's not unconditional, is it? And there's no such thing as conditional love."
She waited for his response, but he stayed quiet, so she continued. "My dad always said love is like a stallion. You can try to tame it but you'll miss out on its most beautiful form." She snuggled closer to his warmth. "When it's wild and free, with no restricting fences, it can go on forever."
He didn't say anything for a moment and her lids grew heavy. His deep voice shook her awake again. "But, if you love someone, you do what's best for them."
Though he phrased it as a statement, she heard the question in his voice. "No. If you love someone, you support them in figuring out what's best for themselves. ~ Leia Shaw

She had an overwhelming desire to tell him, like the most banal of women. Don't let me go, hold me tight, make me your plaything, your slave, be strong! But they were words she could not say.
The only thing she said when he released her from his embrace was, "You don't know how happy I am to be with you." That was the most her reserved nature allowed her to express. ~ Milan Kundera

I swallowed back a wave of concern as her focus jumped from my face to the indigo jewel at my chest. The blue light in the heart of the jewel glowed only faintly. A yank on the braided chain made me lurch forward and I heard Vada cry out in pain. When I looked, the vampiress was cupping her hand as if it hurt. I then understood what had happened: she had attempted to grab the enchanted gemstone and it had shocked her in the process. I flashed an accusatory glare at Vallatrece.

"Do you mean to steal from me?"

"Apparently no. It seems the stone has chosen you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm not surprised."

"Well, it's mine - that I do know. You can't take it from me. No one can."

"How many have tried?"

I refused an answer to the question. My silence was undaunting.

"Where did you get that pretty trinket anyway? Who gave it to you?"

"No one gave it to me; I found it."

Vallatrece scrunched up her face, communicating that she didn't believe me.

"And now that I have it," I continued, "I no longer require your services."

"You no longer require my services? Is that so?" Again, her cheeks dimpled with amusement at my words.

"Yes, it is so. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

WELCOME CHALLENGING TIMES as opportunities to trust Me. You have Me beside you and My Spirit within you, so no set of circumstances is too much for you to handle. When the path before you is dotted with difficulties, beware of measuring your strength against those challenges. That calculation is certain to riddle you with anxiety. Without Me, you wouldn't make it past the first hurdle! The way to walk through demanding days is to grip My hand tightly and stay in close communication with Me. Let your thoughts and spoken words be richly flavored with trust and thankfulness. Regardless of the day's problems, I can keep you in perfect Peace as you stay close to Me. Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds. - JAMES 1:2 I can do everything through him who gives me strength. - PHILIPPIANS 4:13 You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in you. - ISAIAH 26:3 ~ Sarah Young

Mother shook her head impatiently. 'You need to ... stop looking for heroes, Anne.' Her speech was slow, slurred, but understandable. 'Only the weak need ... heroes ... and heroes need ... those around them to remain weak. You're ... not weak.' I remembered those words. I knew they were true, all of them. True about me, and true about Charles. I brought them out, every now and then, as I kept working
on both the manuscript and myself. And, perhaps on my definition of my marriage. No, my prayer for my marriage; a marriage of two equals. With separate
but equally valid
views of the world; shared goggles no more, but looking at the same scenery, at the same time. ~ Melanie Benjamin

...any object functioning within the physical laws of any particular universe does not have free will ... In terms of human beings, all behavior and cognition cannot appear out of thin air. Behavior and cognition must be the result of prior causes. This is because our brains obey the same laws of a cause and effect physical universe just like any other physical object. All events that occur in the universe are caused by antecedent events.

Quantum indeterminacy, which maintains that the state of a system does not determine a unique collection of values for all its measurable properties, is not a valid argument for free will and has been used incorrectly to justify beliefs of independent decision-making. Logically speaking, notions of randomness and indeterminism are actually additional arguments against free will. All events that occur at random in the universe are, by definition, not caused by antecedent events. Or to say it a different way, any random event cannot also be a willed event.

By the process of elimination, events that are "willed freely" are events that are neither determined nor random. In other words, in all likelihood events that are "willed freely" are events that simply do not exist. ~ Mark J. Solomon

if you ask me if i am fluent / i will tell you my Spanish is understanding that there are stories / that will always be out of my reach / there are people / who will never fit together the way that i wanted them to / there are letters / that will always stay / silent / there are some words that will always escape / me. ~ Melissa Lozada-Oliva

and lost her courage before she could get out the rest of her planned words. She set her plate down, even though she'd only eaten half of it. ~ Noelle Adams

It's the same whether we eat margarine or don't. Dull translation jobs or fraudulent copy, it's basically the same. Sure we're tossing out fluff, but tell me, where does anyone deal in words with substance? C'mon now, there's no honest work anywhere. Just like there's no honest breathing or honest pissing."
"You were more innocent in the old days."
"Maybe so," I said, crushing out a cigarette in the ashtray. "And no doubt there's an innocent town somewhere where an innocent butcher slices innocent ham. So if you think that drinking whiskey from the middle of the morning is innocent, go ahead and drink as much as you want."
The room was treated to an extended pen-on-desktop staccato solo. ~ Haruki Murakami

Alex smiled at Andy's words and then joined in the sudden biscuit battle that broke out. Thrang yelled madly at them for wasting food, but that only made him a target for everyone else. ~ M.L. Forman

Miles wanted to snap out a sharp rejoinder, but shivered instead. I miss Bothari, too. He had almost forgotten how much, till Ivan's words hit the scar of his regret, that secret little pocket of anguish that never seemed to drain. ~ Lois McMaster Bujold

The music comes first, like, 99 percent of the time. I come up with the basic chord structure and the melody first and then I get really obsessed with arranging, adding, and subtracting parts. The last step of the process, for me, is finding words that fit into that structure and figuring out exactly what I want to talk about. ~ Mikal Cronin

Why do you talk all the time?" I asked. It was a rhetorical question, but she cocked her head on one side and considered it carefully.
"I think it's 'cause I don't know any big words, like you and Mummy," she said, just in time to pull me out of my magazine again, "so I have to use lots and lots of little ones. ~ Theodore Sturgeon

Let me in the ring. I'll show you what that big word means. ~ Lorde

Realize your potential. Anyone that says one person can't change the world is wrong. Your actions, thoughts, and words all ripple out into the world. One act of love can change someone's life. One lifetime of love can change the world. When you realize all of your power, you can start benefiting the entire world with positive actions. Realize your potential to change the world. ~ Avina Celeste

The words 'California's Gold' will no longer mean anything about me or about a television series. They will mean what California's Gold has always truly meant: not the literal gold nuggets that they pulled out of the earth, not the riches people got when they came here, but the dreams that brought people here and are still bringing people here. ~ Huell Howser

Speaking of shooting, my lady," Mr. Pinter said as he came around the table, "I looked over your pistol as you requested. Everything seems to be in order."
Removing it from his coat pocket, he handed it to her, a hint of humor in his gaze. As several pair of male eyes fixed on her, she colored. To hide her embarrassment, she made a great show of examining her gun. He'd cleaned it thoroughly, which she grudgingly admitted was rather nice of him.
"What a cunning little weapon," the viscount said and reached for it. "May I?"
She handed him the pistol.
"How tiny it is," he exclaimed.
"It's a lady's pocket pistol," she told him as he examined it.
Oliver frowned at her. "When did you acquire a pocket pistol, Celia?"
"A little while ago," she said blithely.
Gabe grinned. "You may not know this, Basto, but my sister is something of a sharpshooter. I daresay she has a bigger collection of guns than Oliver."
"Not bigger," she said. "Finer perhaps, but I'm choosy about my firearms."
"She has beaten us all at some time or another at target shooting," the duke said dryly. "The lady could probably hit a fly at fifty paces."
"Don't be silly," she said with a grin. "A beetle perhaps, but not a fly." The minute the words were out of her mouth, she could have kicked herself. Females did not boast of their shooting-not if they wanted to snag husbands.
"You should come shooting with us," Oliver said. "Why not?"
The last thing she n ~ Sabrina Jeffries

The best way to write is to let the words breathe onto the page from the soul. ~ Mary Krome

Get rid of all that is unnecessary. Wabi-sabi means treading lightly on the planet and knowing how to appreciate whatever is encountered, no matter how trifling, whenever it is encountered. [ ... ] In other words, wabi-sabi tells us to stop our preoccupation with success
wealth, status, power, and luxury
and enjoy the unencumbered life. Obviously, leading the simple wabi-sabi life requires some effort and will and also some tough decisions. Wabi-sabi acknowledges that just as it is important to know when to make choices, it is also important to know when not to make choices: to let things be. Even at the most austere level of material existence, we still live in a world of things. Wabi-sabi is exactly about the delicate balance between the pleasure we get from things and the pleasure we get from freedom of things. ~ Leonard Koren