Nessmuk Knife Quotes

Anger cuts through a wide range of things. Cuts like a knife ~ D.B.C. Pierre

-Too often college Bible classes end up like this-

With eager knife that oft has sliced
At Gentile gloss, or Jewish fable,
Before the crowd you lay the Christ
Upon the lecture table.

From bondage to the old beliefs
You say our rescue must begin,
But I want refuge from my griefs
And saving from my sin.

The strong, the easy and the glad
Hang, blandly listening, on your word;
But I am sick, and I am sad,
And I want Thee, O Lord.

(From Amy Carmichael's 1950 bio of Thomas Walker of Tinnevelly, India - poem written in about 1905 by Canon Ainger) ~ Canon Ainger

Your appearance can be a weapon. As powerful as any knife or gun. ~ Barbara

The hit-woman opened the door. No dead body on the floor. Thank God.
I heard an unearthly roar and then Jordan charged Liz from where she'd been hiding beside the door. She tackled her to the floor and stabbed her through the wrist with a small switchblade. The hit-woman shrieked and let go of the gun, allowing Jordan precious seconds to bat it across the room. She landed a couple hard punches to the assassin's nose, bloodying it, before the other woman got the upper hand.
She grabbed a handful of Jordan's ponytail and slammed her head into the edge of the coffee table. Jordan cried out, but didn't let go of the knife. She withdrew it and held it against the assassin's throat, shouting, "Move again and I'll kill you, puta!"
Liz panted madly, but stayed put. Jordan glanced up at me. "You okay?"
"Alive," I said through a grimace. "Not okay."
"Good enough." She returned her gaze to the woman pinned beneath her and glared.
"The police are on their way. And not the nice, human police. Angels. Get any ideas about trying to kill me again and you won't even get to deal with them."
"I've been in jail before," Liz said, attempting to recapture her former arrogance. "I'll get over it."
Jordan leaned down a few inches, lowering her voice. "Really? How'd you like to return without your tongue?"
Liz's eyes went wide, as did mine. "You wouldn't dare."
"You shot my best friend. Multiple times. Lex talionis."
"You can't kill me. You're n ~ Kyoko M.

I see now that there is a great deal in what Aunt Almeria says. She considers that there are terrible pitfalls in Society."
Sir Richard shook his head sadly. "Alas, too true!"
"And vice," said Pen awfully. "Profligacy, and extravagance, you know."
"I know."
She picked up her knife and fork again. "It must be very exciting," she said enviously. ~ Georgette Heyer

I was almost afraid to break the silence that surrounded me. But then I pounded, hard, with the handle of the knife, until Yma Zetsyvis answered.
"Miss Noavek," Yma said. She wasn't smiling, for once. She was staring at the weapon in my right hand.
"Hello," I said. "Mind if I come in? ~ Veronica Roth

Run from a knife and rush a gun. ~ Jimmy Hoffa

Don't need a knife or gun or poison to break a man's heart. ~ Mary Jo Putney

A man can own a woman or a man can own a knife, but no man can own both. Every little girl learns that from her mother. ~ George R R Martin

Critical (i.e., separating) methods apply only to the world-as-nature. It would be easier to break up a theme of Beethoven with dissecting knife or acid than to break up the soul by methods of abstract thought . Nature-knowledge and man-knowledge have neither ways nor aims in common. ~ Oswald Spengler

I'll stab you with a pointy thingy. Not a sword, a knife, or even a mountaintop. No, I'll use my index finger - and just to make a point about violence. ~ Jarod Kintz

Let every dirty, lousy tramp arm himself with a revolver or a knife, and lay in wait on the steps of the palaces of the rich and stab or shoot the owners as they come out. Let us kill them without mercy, and let it be a war of extermination. ~ Lucy Parsons

A tiny butter knife slices more skin off my heart every time I think about her. ~ Jerry Stahl

Gretta sits herself down at the table. Robert has arranged everything she needs: a plate, a knife, a bowl with a spoon, a pat of butter, a jar of jam. It is in such small acts of kindness that people know they are loved. ~ Maggie O'Farrell

To fatten a pig, a farmer will feed him well. The pig must think his life a paradise, never knowing he gorges himself so that he will be fatter for the knife later on. ~ David Anthony Durham

Get a little practice. See what it feels like to drive a knife through my heart. Relish it. Watch the light fade from my eyes, stare into my dying, taste it, see how you like it. There's a moment in death that is unlike anything else in all existence. ~ Karen Marie Moning

Give your kids a bloody knife and fork and let me put some fresh food in front of them they can eat. ~ Jamie Oliver

Words have power, which is why Imam Ali says, "Speak only when your words are more beautiful than the silence." After all, everything in existence sprouted from the vibration of the divinely uttered word "Be! And it is" (36:82). So remember, your tongue is like a knife; it can either kill like the sword of a samurai or save like the scalpel of a surgeon. ~ A. Helwa

What happens to a marriage when one partner ignores the other? After a short period of time bitterness begins to enter the heart. Words begin to cut like a sharp knife. Soon the animosity turns to anger, jealousy, and even worse. For many it results in separation, divorce, and hatred. But the rift can so easily be mended.All it takes is a fresh surrender that comes from your very soul.And a renewing of the vow to "love, honor, and cherish. ~ Benny Hinn

Never lick a steak knife. ~ Dave Barry

So here's the truth - I love you. I love everything about you – the way you stick up for people even when it costs you. The way you keep trying to do the right thing even when you're not exactly sure what the right thing is. I love how you put words together. You're as skilled with words as any knife fighter with a blade. You can put an enemy down on his back, or you can raise people up so they find what's best in themselves. You've changed my life. You've given me the words I need to become whatever I want.
I love how you talk to lytlings. You don't talk down to them. You respect them, and anybody can tell you're actually interested in what they have to say.
I love the way you ride a horse – how you stick there like an upland thistle, whooping like a Demonai. I love the way you throw back your head and stomp your feet when you dance. I love how you go after what you want – whether it's kisses or a queendom.
I love your skin, like copper dusted over with gold. And your eyes – they're the color of a forest lake shaded by evergreens. One of the secret places that only the Demonai know about.
I love the scent of you – when you've been out in the fresh air, and that perfume you put behind your ears sometimes.
Believe it or not, I even love your road smell – of sweat and horses and leather and wool.
I want to breathe you in for the rest of my life. ~ Cinda Williams Chima

Kids today and for the last 20 years have held the fork and knife in unbelievable ways. They hold the fork with a fist and the knife like a saw and they shovel it in. It doesn't matter to them which way they hold their knife and fork. They eat every which way. I'm amazed they get food into their mouths at all. ~ Letitia Baldrige

Prophecy and prescience - How can they be put to the test in the face of the unanswered question? Consider: How much is actual prediction of the "wave form" (as Muad'Dib referred to his vision-image) and how much is the prophet shaping the future to fit the prophecy? What of the harmonics inherent in the act of prophecy? Does the prophet see the future or does he see a line of weakness, a fault or cleavage that he may shatter with words or decisions as a diamond-cutter shatters his gem with a blow of a knife? ~ Frank Herbert

The way he said "Prism" left no question about what he meant: it was a proper name, the title of some strange passage, and his voice ached around that single syllable like flesh aches around a knife. ~ Seanan McGuire

She did not care. What are knife-cuts to a corpse? ~ Neil Gaiman

We are the choices we make. ~ Patrick Ness

But it was the dark hunger in his tone that got to her. Damn kinky vampire had actually liked the knife.
Shit. ~ Nalini Singh

Having sharp, great knives will enable you to cook very precisely. Knife skills are essential in cooking. ~ Eric Ripert

Whenever you feel a little stricken down in pain, think about this. The knife has to be sharpened by striking and rubbing it against something strong before it can become useful! You are going to be great after the struggles. ~ Israelmore Ayivor

Learning kindness late in life was a kind of torture. The pain often came from the past, from kindness withheld. The knife was particularly sharp when those who most deserved your kindness were long gone. And unless you wanted to die of sorrow, you had to give this unspent kindness to those you loved less. ~ Victor Lodato

I get to be Peter Venkman," says Thomas. "Nobody gets to be anybody," I snap. "We are not ghostbusters. I've got the knife, and I kill the ghosts, and I can't be tripping over you the whole time. Besides, it's obvious that I would be Peter Venkman." I look sharply at Thomas. "You would be Egon. ~ Kendare Blake

When high school girls like us freak out, people are always able to overpower us before we do something stupid, like hijacking a bus or running around with a knife. Which is why girls arm themselves beforehand so they don't get caught up in something like that. Boys probably aren't so good at protecting themselves. ~ Natsuo Kirino

This kind of art school is for me the least important. A spiritual structure is needed. If a person is an artist he can use the most primitive of instruments:- a broken knife is enough. Otherwise it remains a craft school. ~ Joseph Bueys

I am a cutter, you see. Also a snipper, a slicer, a carver, a jabber. I am a very special case. I have a purpose. My skin, you see, screams. It's covered with words - cook, cupcake, kitty, curls - as if a knife-wielding first-grader learned to write on my flesh. I sometimes, but only sometimes, laugh. Getting out of the bath and seeing, out of the corner of my eye, down the side of a leg: babydoll. Pull on a sweater and, in a flash of my wrist: harmful. Why these words? Thousands of hours of therapy have yielded a few ideas from the good doctors. They are often feminine, in a Dick and Jane, pink vs. puppy dog tails sort of way. Or they're flat-out negative. Number of synonyms for anxious carved in my skin: eleven. The one thing I know for sure is that at the time, it was crucial to see these letters on me, and not just see them, but feel them. Burning on my left hip: petticoat.

And near it, my first word, slashed on an anxious summer day at age thirteen: wicked. I woke up that morning, hot and bored, worried about the hours ahead. How do you keep safe when your whole day is as wide and empty as the sky? Anything could happen. I remember feeling that word, heavy and slightly sticky across my pubic bone. My mother's steak knife. Cutting like a child along red imaginary lines. Cleaning myself. Digging in deeper. Cleaning myself. Pouring bleach over the knife and sneaking through the kitchen to return it. Wicked. Relief. The rest of the day, I spent ministering to my ~ Gillian Flynn

I can't imagine living the way he does - always keeping track of who gave me what and what I should give them in return, incapable of love or loyalty or forgiveness, a one-eyed man with a knife in hand, looking for someone else's eye to poke out. That isn't life. It's some paler version of life. I wonder where he learned it from. ~ Veronica Roth

The scream of No's knife in Yes's wound. ~ Samuel Beckett

I realised that I had set so many of my novels and stories abroad, because custom had prevented me from seeing how exotic my own country is. Britain really is an immense lunatic asylum. That is one of the things that distinguishes us among the nations ... We are rigid and formal in some ways, but we believe in the right to eccentricity, as long as the eccentricities are large enough ... Woe betide you if you hold your knife incorrectly, but good luck to you if you wear a loincloth and live up a tree. ~ Louis De Bernieres

She'd never have to cut herself again. She carries a knife inside herself now, one that was always cutting her. She could feel it every time she swallowed, every time her thoughts strayed. ~ Scott Westerfeld

In quick succession, Qhuinn reviewed his answers: No, of course not, the knife was acting of its own volition. I was actually trying to stop it ... No, I only meant to give him a shave ... No, I didn't realize that slicing open someone's jugular was going to lead to death. ~ J.R. Ward

The clatter of pans stopped when I walked into the kitchens. A smaller selection of our staff worked on the sojourn ship than in Noavek manor, but I recognized some of the faces. And the gifts, too--one of the scrubbers was making the pots float, suds dripping on the backs of his hands, and one of the choppers was doing the task with her eyes closed, the knife strokes clean and even.
Otega had her head in the coldbox. When silence fell, she straightened, and wiped her hands off on her apron.
"Ah, Cyra," she said. "No one makes a room quiet like you."
The other staff stared openly at her for her familiarity, but I only laughed a little. Even when I hadn't seen her in a while--I had surpassed her capacity to teach me last season; now we saw each other only rarely, in passing--she fell back into our old rhythms without trouble.
"It's a unique talent," I replied. ~ Veronica Roth

Praying without faith is like trying to cut with a blunt knife - much labor expended to little purpose. ~ James O. Fraser

ODE TO A HAGGIS

Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great Chieftan o' the Puddin-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
As lang's my arm

The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
You pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o'need
While thro' your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead

His knife see Rustic-labour dight,
An' cut you up wi' ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright
Like onie ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reeking, rich!

Then, horn for horn they stretch an' strive,
Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,
Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive
Bethankit hums

Is there that owre his French ragout,
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi' perfect sconner,
Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view
On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckless as a wither'd rash
His spindle-shank a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit;
Thro' bluidy flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll mak it whissle;
An' legs, an' arms an' heads will sned,Robert Burns