No Reply Quotes

But what I heard was a low insistent murmur, with pauses for reply in which no reply was made. It had a hypnotic quality that I had never heard in any voice: a blend of urgency, cajolery, and extreme tenderness, and with below it the deep vibrato of a held-in laugh that might break out at any moment. It was the voice of someone wanting something very much and confident of getting it, but at the same time willing, no, constrained, to plead for it with all the force of his being. ~ L.P. Hartley

That time
I thought I could not
go any closer to grief
without dying

I went closer,
and I did not die.
Surely God
had his hand in this,

as well as friends.
Still, I was bent,
and my laughter,
as the poet said,

was nowhere to be found.
Then said my friend Daniel,
(brave even among lions),
"It's not the weight you carry

but how you carry it -
books, bricks, grief -
it's all in the way
you embrace it, balance it, carry it

when you cannot, and would not,
put it down."
So I went practicing.
Have you noticed?

Have you heard
the laughter
that comes, now and again,
out of my startled mouth?

How I linger
to admire, admire, admire
the things of this world
that are kind, and maybe

also troubled -
roses in the wind,
the sea geese on the steep waves,
a love
to which there is no reply? ~ Mary Oliver

And Anne could have said much, and did long to say a little in defence of her friend's not very dissimilar claims to theirs, but her sense of personal respect to her father prevented her. She made no reply. She left it to himself to recollect, that Mrs Smith was not the only widow in Bath between thirty and forty, with little to live on, and no surname of dignity. ~ Jane Austen

He stared at it in utter disbelief while his secretary, Peters, who'd only been with him for a fortnight, muttered a silent prayer of gratitude for the break and continued scribbling as fast as he could, trying futilely to catch up with his employer's dictation.
"This," said Ian curtly, "was sent to me either by mistake or as a joke. In either case, it's in excruciatingly bad taste." A memory of Elizabeth Cameron flickered across Ian's mind-a mercenary, shallow litter flirt with a face and body that had drugged his mind. She'd been betrothed to a viscount when he'd met her. Obviously she hadn't married her viscount-no doubt she'd jilted him in favor of someone with even better prospects. The English nobility, as he well knew, married only for prestige and money, then looked elsewhere for sexual fulfillment. Evidently Elizabeth Cameron's relatives were putting her back on the marriage block. If so, they must be damned eager to unload her if they were willing to forsake a title for Ian's money…That line of conjecture seemed so unlikely that Ian dismissed it. This note was obviously a stupid prank, perpetrated, no doubt, by someone who remembered the gossip that had exploded over that weekend house party-someone who thought he'd find the note amusing.
Completely dismissing the prankster and Elizabeth Cameron from his mind, Ian glanced at his harassed secretary who was frantically scribbling away. "No reply is necessary," he said. As he spoke he flipped the message acr ~ Judith McNaught

I pictured Becs and myself together, squabbling, but always over little things, while I rotted away at the core from love of Ferris.
It was hopeless.
'Here.' I laid my hands on the table, palms up, and jerked my head at them, 'put yours on top.'
Ferris did not move.
'Please,' I said.
He laid his cold hands on mine and I curled my fingers, folding his within them.
'Now,' I said, 'I've neither accepted nor refused. Speak it out plainly, tell me and I'll do it.'
He cried, 'Don't put it onto me! Choose for yourself.'
'This is choosing. Tell Aunt I will do whatever you'll have me do, and that's my answer.' I kept hold of his fingers. We stayed there silent and motionless for some time, while the candles burnt down.
At last he said quietly, 'It is a lot to give up.'
'Well. My history is bad enough without bigamy,' I replied, at which he smiled but made no reply. The candles were half burnt. I took one and rose.
'Goodnight, Ferris.'
'Goodnight, Jacob. ~ Maria McCann

You never know!" Neith snapped. "The point is, I'll survive the apocalypse. I can live off the land!" She jabbed a finger at me. "Did you know the palm tree has six different edible parts?"
"Um - "
"And I'll never be bored," Neith continued, "since I'm also the goddess of weaving. I have enough twine for a millennium of macramé!"
I had no reply, as I wasn't sure what macramé was. ~ Rick Riordan

There was no reply. That in itself was encouraging. They trudged on, Luke stealing admiring glances at her when she wasn't looking. ~ Alan Dean Foster

What else did he say?"
"Just that. He's going to The Eye, and he's sorry." She screwed up her face. "Oh, and some weird thing about telling you that he still feels the same way about that tent, and he promises to say it to you in person next time he sees you."
I gave a bark of laughter that was more of a sob, "That asshat," I blubbered.
Elodie nodded in sympathy. "Such an asshat."
When I'd left Thorne Abbey, I'd held Archer's sword and had a sense that somehow things would turn out all right. Please, I thought. The rest of my magic is back, so let me have that power, too.
But there was no reply except the whistling of the wind. ~ Rachel Hawkins

The Professor made no reply to this. Lillian had been fiercely jealous of Tom Outland. As he left the house, he was reflecting that people who are intensely in love when they marry, and who go on being in love, always meet with something which suddenly or gradually makes a difference. Sometimes it is the children, or the grubbiness of being poor, sometimes a second infatuation. In their own case it had been, curiously enough, his pupil, Tom Outland. St. ~ Willa Cather

touched her shoulder, she flinched. "I need to do this, Vicky. It's the right thing to do. I need to do everything I can to make sure my boy has his mum." Still no reply. "Please?" "What if you're not back?" "I'll be back." "I'm not so sure about that." "Trust me, Vicky, I'll be back. I promise." The same darkness sat on her features, but something had changed. ~ Michael Robertson

There was no reply. So Z glanced over again - just as a tear slide down Phury's cheek.
"Ah ... fuck," Z muttered.
"Yeah. Pretty much." Another tear rolled out of Phury's eye. "God ... damn. I'm leaking."
"Okay, brace yourself."
Phury scrubbed his face with his palms. "Why?"
"Because ... I think I'm going to try to hug you. ~ J.R. Ward

Randolph," he said, "do you know something? I'm very happy." To which his friend made no reply. The reason for this happiness seemed to be simply that he did not feel unhappy; rather, he knew all through him a kind of balance. There was little for him to cope with. ~ Truman Capote

It doesn't talk back,' he said ruefully as I approached, without looking round.

I glanced up at the griffin. 'No,' I said. Then something, an impulse of gaiety perhaps, made me add, 'Perhaps you need to stroke it between the ears. Timothy likes that.' Timothy is my cat.

Although the Doctor was evidently an eccentric man - who else talks to a statue - I was nonetheless taken aback when he jumped up into the air like a circus performer and, holding on to the iron standard of a lamp, swung himself on to the narrow sill above the carving. There he teetered for a moment, arms extended flat against the wall, his shoes dislodging small pieces of debris which clattered on to the yard. He somehow found a secure foothold, then reached down and petted the stone animal between the ears, or what would have been the ears if it hadn't been a relief carving. 'Hello, Timothy. Would you care for a stick of liquorice?'

There was a brief silence, and I was struck by the puzzled, almost grief-stricken expression that crossed the Doctor's face when the carving made no reply. It could have been drollery, but it seemed genuine.

Then he looked down at me, and grinned, as if it had been a joke. 'He still doesn't talk! Did you say he was called Timothy?'

I decided it was time to inject some sanity into the conversation. 'Timothy.' I said, precisely and quietly, ' is the name of my cat. ~ Paul Leonard

M. de Charlus made no reply and looked as if he had not heard, which was one of his favourite forms of rudeness. ~ Marcel Proust

Why aren't I seeing more tracks?" After no reply he repeated himself. "Helllloooo, why aren't there more tracks?" His eyes examined the ground. Then he suddenly saw a foot? Breccan slowly lifted his head to see Darius, obviously irritated, standing in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest. ~ Madison Thorne Grey

An undergraduate researching the "witch hunt" cases asked for evidence that there had been more than one hundred cases, noting that the major lists of such cases added up to about fifty. There was no reply that provided documentation to support the claim.[34] The members of the list were generally strong proponents of the witch-hunt narrative. They knew the answer to the question "Is there a child sex abuse witch hunt?" These "witch hunters," as those on this list soon came to describe themselves, were increasingly activists who used the internet to exchange information and ideas. Jonathan Harris may have done more than anyone else to disseminate the witch-hunt narrative in the mid 1990s and beyond.[35] ~ Ross Cheit

The telephone to Shadow's apartment was silent and dead. He thought about getting it connected, but could think of no one he wanted to call. Late one night he picked it up and listened, and was convinced he could hear a wind blowing and a distant conversation between a group of people talking in voiced too low to properly make out. He said, "hello?" and "who's there?" but there was no reply, only a sudden silence and then the faraway sound of laughter, so faint he was not certain he was not imagining it. ~ Neil Gaiman

One should never expect anyone to reply to one's questions. ~ Patrick Modiano

Is this about Archer? Please don't tell me you're upset about us, because ... I mean, you're dead."
She floated closer to me, until she was right in my face. At first I thought she was going to spit ectoplasm on me or something, but then I saw her lips moving again. I wasn't an expert lip-reader, but she was close enough and speaking slowly enough that I was able to make out what she said. "I told you," her pale lips mouthed, "that I'd haunt your ass."
I stared at her mouth, horrified, as she smirked. And then,just like that, she was gone. The air near my face wafted sligtly, like someone had just opened a window.
"I don't need this!" I said to the empty room. "Seriously, plate? FULL."
But there was no reply. ~ Rachel Hawkins

If only, if only, the moon speaks no reply;
Reflecting the sun and all that's gone by.
Be strong my weary wolf, turn around boldly.
Fly high, my baby bird,
My angel, my only ~ Louis Sachar

You know," Wayne said, "I'm an Allomancer too."
The man said nothing.
"I figured you'd want to know," Wayne said, "since it seems like this is your religion and all. In case you wanted someone else to worship."
Again no reply.
"I'm a Slider," Wayne said. "Speed bubbles, you know? Those fancy titles would work for me just fine, I think. Handsome One. Smart One. Um … Guy wif the Great Hat."
The only sound was that of their footfalls and the gusting wind.
"Now, see," Wayne said, "this is unfair. Wax doesn't want you to worship him, right? But you gotta have someone to worship. It's human nature. It's ingratiated in us. So, I'm willin' to be accommodatin' and let you - "
"He can't understand you, Wayne," Marasi said, marching past. "He's swapped metalminds to keep himself warm."
Wayne stopped in place as they all hiked onward. "Well, when he gets his brain back, someone tell him I'm a god, all right?"
"Will do," Wax called from up ahead. ~ Brandon Sanderson

Three years later, Mr. Turley has received no reply to his letter. Nor can anybody account for the missing money: saints, it seems, are immune to audit. ~ Christopher Hitchens

Trout had no reply. He had hoped to get through what little remained of his life without ever having to touch another human being again. ~ Kurt Vonnegut

Hello?" No reply. My shoulders sag. "What's the point of a staircase if no one is here to watch my entrance? ~ Stephanie Perkins

The universe had once been bright, too. For a short time after the big bang, all matter existed in the form of light, and only after the universe turned to burnt ash did heavier elements precipitate out of the darkness and form planets and life. Darkness was the mother of life and of civilization. On Earth, an avalanche of curses and abuse rolled out into space toward Blue Space and Bronze Age, but the two ships made no reply. They cut off all contact with the Solar System, for to those two worlds, the Earth was already dead. The two dark ships became one with the darkness, separated by the Solar System and drifting further apart. Carrying with them the entirety of human thoughts and memories, and embracing all of the Earth's glory and dreams, they quietly disappeared into the eternal night. ~ Liu Cixin

The great commander, who seemed by expression of his visage to be always on the look-out for something in the extremest distance, and to have no ocular knowledge of anything within ten miles, made no reply whatever. ~ Charles Dickens

But what is truth? 'Twas Pilate's question put
To Truth itself, that deign'd him no reply. ~ William Cowper

The sound of wings flapping pulled me from my moment of relieved euphoria, and I looked up to see a massive black raven standing at the end of the alley. It was roughly the size of a bobcat, larger than any raven I'd ever seen before, and its beady eyes were locked right on me.
Even though the purple light from Sigrún had all but gone out, the light somehow seemed to linger on the bird's black feathers. It titled its head as it watched me, squawking once.
"What do you want?" I demanded, but the raven had no reply. It just flapped its wings and disappeared into the night sky. ~ Amanda Hocking

What said those two souls communicating through the language of the eyes, more perfect than that of the lips, the language given to the soul in order that sound may not mar the ecstasy of feeling? In such moments, when the thoughts of two happy beings penetrate into each other's souls through the eyes, the spoken word is halting, rude, and weak - it is as the harsh, slow roar of the thunder compared with the rapidity of the dazzling lightning flash, expressing feelings already recognized, ideas already understood, and if words are made use of it is only because the heart's desire, dominating all the being and flooding it with happiness, wills that the whole human organism with all its physical and psychical powers give expression to the song of joy that rolls through the soul. To the questioning glance of love, as it flashes out and then conceals itself, speech has no reply; the smile, the kiss, the sigh answer. ~ Jose Rizal

Just after midnight, I text my parents who live in Florida: Please tell me you didn't help elect him.

No reply.

The next morning, New York City wakes up with a wet, gray yawn. The air is thick with mist. The city moves at a slower, muffled pace. New Yorkers rarely make eye contact; today isn't much different, except when eyes meet, they lock for a moment in shared grief. Everyone's shoulders bend forward, the world weighing heavier on them than it did yesterday.

The sidewalks and the coffee shops are quiet. Even the subway paces through its underground veins in somber silence. My husband tells me: "The city hasn't been this quiet since 9/11."

- Melissa Lirtsman ~ Erin Passons

I shouted into the phone, but there was no reply. Silence floated up from the receiver like smoke from the mouth of a gun. ~ Haruki Murakami

We may expect answers to prayer, and should not be easy without them any more than we should be if we had written a letter to a friend upon important business, and had received no reply. ~ Charles Spurgeon

Now we're e-mailing and tweeting and texting so much, a phone call comes as a fresh surprise. I get text messages on my cell phone all day long, and it warbles to alert me that someone has sent me a message on Facebook or a reply or direct message on Twitter, but it rarely ever rings. ~ Susan Orlean

Reply when questioned on the safety of the polio vaccine he developed:
It is safe, and you can't get safer than safe. ~ Jonas Salk

To the oft-asked question, What camera or lens do you use? I can only reply I couldn't tell to save my soul - it is enough for me to know that I have something that will make pictures and that it is in working order. ~ Edward S. Curtis

You ask me if I love you and I choke on my reply. I'd rather hurt you honestly than mislead you with a lie. ~ Dan Hill

For example, it is said that someone at a party once asked the famous philosopher Ly Tin Weedle "Why are you here?" and the reply took three years. ~ Terry Pratchett

that is so VERY tempting. Too bad I've got bestie duties to take care of first. Raincheck? With a smile, I reply. ~ Riley Rhea

When asked if direct sales is a pyramid scheme. My reply is a corporation has only one person at the top. ~ Donald Trump

Why resurrect it all now. From the Past. History, the old wound. The past emotions all over again. To confess to relive the same folly. To name it now so as not to repeat history in oblivion. To extract each fragment by each fragment from the word from the image another word another image the reply that will not repeat history in oblivion. ~ Theresa Hak Kyung Cha

MY river runs to thee:
Blue sea, wilt welcome me?
My river waits reply.
Oh sea, look graciously!
I 'll fetch thee brooks
From spotted nooks,
Say, sea,
Take me! ~ Emily Dickinson

And now, As I come near the end of this book in which I have recorded so many considerable achievements of the Americans, if I am asked how we should account for the unusual prosperity and growing strength of this nation, I would reply that they must be attributed to the superiority of their woman. ~ Alexis De Tocqueville

It's been a long time," I reply, when what I really want to do is ask her what she's been doing for the past fifteen years. If she still drinks tea with milk and lemon. If she's happy. ~ Jodi Picoult

Why me?" I hear his answer in my head before he says it.
"Don't know, honey. But there's a reason for everything." Dad pats my hand. "We'll just have to wait patiently to see what it is."
As i do every time he says that or something like this, I bite back what I'd say if I could reply honestly. I don't believe there's a reason for everything, and having faith doesn't mean I'm blind. I believe people make poor choices. I believed bad things happen to good people. I believe there's evil in the world that I will never understand, but will never stop fighting. If I believe for two seconds that there was a reason behind some of the awful things that occur in this life, I wouldn't be able to stand it. ~ Tammara Webber

Miss Bingley was very deeply mortified by Darcy's marriage; but as she thought it advisable to retain the right of visiting at Pemberley, she dropt all her resentment; was fonder than ever of Georgiana, almost as attentive to Darcy as heretofore, and paid off every arrear of civility to Elizabeth.

Pemberley was now Georgiana's home; and the attachment of the sisters was exactly what Darcy had hoped to see. They were able to love each other, even as well as they intended. Georgiana had the highest opinion in the world of Elizabeth; though at first she often listened with an astonishment bordering on alarm at her lively, sportive manner of talking to her brother. He, who had always inspired in herself a respect which almost overcame her affection, she now saw the object of open pleasantry. Her mind received knowledge which had never before fallen in her way. By Elizabeth's instructions she began to comprehend that a woman may take liberties with her husband which a brother will not always allow in a sister more than ten years younger than himself.

Lady Catherine was extremely indignant on the marriage of her nephew; and as she gave way to all the genuine frankness of her character, in her reply to the letter which announced its arrangement, she sent him language so very abusive, especially of Elizabeth, that for some time all intercourse was at an end. But at length, by Elizabeth's persuasion, he was prevailed on to overlook the offence, and seek a recon ~ Jane Austen

I think I'll take a shower, shave, get refreshed."
Domenico gave him a smile and lowered his voice. "Why? Because you still feel me inside?"
Seth bit his lip and started playing with his fingers. "You're always here, inside." Seth pointed to his heart, and it was so sweet, Dom hardly recognize the horny beast behind that facade.
He stared at Seth, unsure how to react to such honesty in reply to his dirty question. ~ K.A. Merikan

Would your reply possibly be this? Well, it all depends on what my tax rate will be on the gain you're saying we're going to make. If the taxes are too high, I would rather leave the money in my savings account, earning a quarter of 1 percent. Only in Grover Norquist's imagination does such a response exist. ~ Warren Buffett

If there is one question I dread, to which I have never been able to invent a satisfactory reply, it is the question what am I doing. ~ Samuel Beckett

Ramses. I had long since resigned myself to the impossibility of teaching Emerson the proper subjects of conversation before the servants. Wilkins is not resigned; but there is nothing he can do about it. Not only does Emerson rant on and on about personal matters at the dinner table, but he often consults Wilkins and John. Wilkins has a single reply to all questions: "I really could not say, sir." John, who had never been in service before he came to us, had adapted very comfortably to Emerson's habits. ~ Elizabeth Peters

A scientist places an ad in a Paris newspaper offering a free horoscope. He receives about 150 replies, each, as requested, detailing a place and time of birth. Every respondent is then sent the identical horoscope, along with a questionnaire asking how accurate the horoscope had been. Ninety-four per cent of the respondents (and 90 per cent of their families and friends) reply that they were at least recognizable in the horoscope. However, the horoscope was drawn up for a French serial killer. If an astrologer can get this far without even meeting his subjects, think how well someone sensitive to human nuances and not overly scrupulous might do. ~ Carl Sagan

Reply to wit with gravity, and to gravity with wit. ~ Charles Caleb Colton

If my forward arrives in a one vs one situation, I always say: 'let him work it out.' Then my players say: But we can help him!'. My reply is: First, there's a good chance you'll only run in his way, and as a second attacker you're drawing a second defender with you, and two vs two is harder than one vs one.' ~ Johan Cruijff

I'm exceptionally email un-savvy, so to reply to my emails is like a torture. It's like literally, half of all my emails, I get my secretary to type out for me. And the personal ones, I avoid and just pick up the phone and call them. ~ Karan Johar

But as in the sphere of man's experimental knowledge one who sincerely inquires how he is to live cannot be satisfied with the reply
"Study in endless space the mutations, infinite in time and in complexity, of innumerable atoms, and then you will understand your life"
so also a sincere man cannot be satisfied with the reply: "Study the whole life of humanity of which we cannot know either the beginning or the end, of which we do not even know a small part, and then you will understand your own life." And like the experimental semi-sciences, so these other semi-sciences are the more filled with obscurities, inexactitudes, stupidities, and contradictions, the further they diverge from the real problems. ~ Leo Tolstoy

After a brief murmured exchange, the lady's maid opened the door a bit wider, and Phoebe's brother Ivo stuck his head inside.
"Hullo, sis," he said casually. "You look very nice in that gold dress."
"It's ecru." At his perplexed look, she repeated, "Ecru."
"God bless you," Ivo said, and gave her a cheeky grin as he entered the room.
Phoebe lifted her gaze heavenward. "Why are you here, Ivo?"
"I'm going to escort you downstairs, so you don't have to go alone."
Phoebe was so moved, she couldn't speak. She could only stare at the eleven-year-old boy, who was volunteering to take the place her husband would have assumed.
"It was Father's idea," Ivo continued, a touch bashfully. "I'm sorry I'm not as tall as the other ladies' escorts, or even as tall as you. I'm really only half an escort. But that's still better than nothing, isn't it?" His expression turned uncertain as he saw that her eyes were watering.
After clearing her throat, Phoebe managed an unsteady reply. "At this moment, my gallant Ivo, you tower above every other gentleman here. I'm so very honored."
He grinned and offered his arm in a gesture she had seen him practice in the past with their father. "The honor is mine, sis."
In that moment, Phoebe had the briefest intimation of what Ivo would be like as a full-grown man, confident and irresistibly charming. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Pass by the synthetic yarn department, then, with your nose in the air. Should a clerk come out with the remark that All Young Mothers In This Day and Age (why can't they save their breath and say "now"?) insist on a yarn which can be machine-washed and machine-dried, come back at her with the reply that one day, you suppose, they will develop a baby that can be machine-washed and -dried. ~ Elizabeth Zimmermann

Uncle Wiggens ain't really my uncle, everyone just calls him that. He's over eighty and fought in the War Between the States. He only has one leg and one hero, General Robert E. Lee. Uncle Wiggens manages to work Lee's name into pretty much any old conversation. You might say, 'My, it's cold today,' and he'd reply, 'You think this is cold? General Lee said it didn't even qualify as chill till your breath froze on your nose and made a little icicle.' He had about five different stories of how he lost his leg, every one of them entertaining.
That night I was listening to the version that involved him running five Yankees into a bear's den. ~ Kristin Levine

If someone smells a flower and says he does not understand, the reply to him is: there is nothing to understand, it is only a scent. If he persists, saying: that I know, but what does it all mean? Then one has either to change the subject, or make it more abstruse by saying that the scent is the shape which the universal joy takes in the flower. ~ Rabindranath Tagore

Where are we going?" she asked.

"Mr. Durbin's sheep have begun to lamb, and I wanted to see how the ewes are doing." He cleared his throat. "I suppose I should have told you about today's outing earlier."

Anna kept her eyes straight ahead and made a noncommittal sound.

He coughed. "I might've, had you not left so precipitously yesterday afternoon."

She arched a brow but did not reply.

There was a lengthy lull broken only by the dog's eager yelp as he flushed a rabbit from the hedge along the lane.

Then the earl tried again. "I've heard some people say my temper is rather . . ." He paused, apparently searching for a word.

Anna helped him. "Savage?"

He squinted at her.

"Ferocious?"

He frowned and opened his mouth.

She was quicker. "Barbaric?"

He cut her off before she could add to her list. "Yes, well, let us simply say that it intimidates some people." He hesitated. "I wouldn't want to intimidate you, Mrs. Wren."

"You don't. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

In October 1805, Stoddard's tour left St. Louis, including forty-five Indians from eleven tribes. They arrived in Washington in January 1806. Jefferson gave them the standard Great Father talk: "We are become as numerous as the leaves of the trees, and, tho' we do not boast, we do not fear any nation. . . . My children, we are strong, we are numerous as the stars in the heavens, & we are all gun-men." He followed the threat with the carrot: if they would be at peace with one another and trade with the Americans, they could be happy. (In reply, one of the chiefs said he was glad the Americans were as numerous as the stars in the skies, and powerful as well. So much the better, in fact, for that meant the government should be strong enough to keep white squatters off Indian lands.) ~ Stephen E. Ambrose

You will get exactly what you deserve Polly," comes the firm reply, "you can trust me on that… But if you do – trust me I mean – I promise you an unparalleled climax."

She pauses, gazing deep into my frightened green eyes. "It's your call Polly, all yours."

I allow my aching body to decide for me
.
"Punish me please, mistress," I say in a very small voice. ~ Felicity Brandon

He glanced at the screen. It was from Mark.
CAN'T FIND TY.
Julian frowned and thumbed a reply while jogging up the steps after Emma. DID YOU LOOK IN HIS BEDROOM?
There was an ornate knocker on the front door in the shape of a wild-haired, wild-eyed Green Man. Emma lifted it and let it fall as Julian's phone beeped again.
DO YOU TAKE ME FOR A BUFFOON? OF COURSE I DID.
"Jules?" Emma said. "Is everything all right?"
"Buffoon?" he muttered, his fingers flying over the touch pad.
WHAT DOES LIVVY SAY?
"Did you just mutter 'buffoon'? Emma demanded. Julian could hear footsteps approaching from the other side of the door. 'Julian, try to act not weird, okay? ~ Cassandra Clare

Oh, please could you spare us a little water?" "Certainly," replied the old gentleman; "take as much as you want, and leave the rest." "Thank you so much," murmured George, looking about him. "Where - where do you keep it?" "It's always in the same place my boy," was the stolid reply: "just behind you. ~ Jerome K. Jerome

Why do you think Lara is Lara Casnoff, and Mrs. Casnoff is Mrs. Casnoff?" Elodie whispered as she worked her magic on the enchanted door. "It's her family name, right? So shouldn't she be Miss Casnoff? Or Ms.?"
Of all the things to wonder about, that's what you're focused on? Her marital status?
"It's weird, that's all I'm saying," she hissed in reply.
You know you can talk to me in my head, right? You don't have to talk out loud and make everyone think I'm a crazy person. Just FYI.
"The only time I can talk is when I'm in your body, so sue me, I'm taking advantage of that."
Before we could snipe at each other anymore, the door suddenly gave way. Pushing it open, Elodie dashed inside, closing the door behind her. Lara Casnoff's office was the total opposite of Mrs. Casnoff's, complete with soaring bookcases and a heavy wooden desk so brightly polished that I could see myself in it.
"Any idea on where we should start?" Elodie whispered.
The desk, I finally said. It'll be locked, and if it's anything like Mrs. Casnoff's desk, magic won't work on it. There's a nail in my pocket. Get it out, and I'll talk you through jimmying the lock.
Elodie's disdain flooded over me, but she got the nail and went to work on the lock. "Were you a burglar in the real world?" she muttered as she worked. ~ Rachel Hawkins

Here is my challenge. Name one ethical statement made, or one ethical action performed, by a believer that could not have been uttered or done by a nonbeliever. And here is my second challenge. Can any reader think of a wicked statement made, or an evil action performed, precisely because of religious faith? The second question is easy to answer, is it not? The first - I have been asking it for some time - awaits a convincing reply. By what right, then, do the faithful assume this irritating mantle of righteousness? They have as much to apologize for as to explain. ~ Christopher Hitchens

Bid imagination run / Much on the Great Questioner; / What He can question, what if questioned I / Can with a fitting confidence reply. ~ William Butler Yeats

It is said,' said the Aga Morat, 'that blindness of the eyes is a lighter thing than blindness of the perceptive faculties of the mind. The sun is high: the perception is dazzled. One has made divers chambers available to us in these poor houses for an hour. Let us retire and, by giving ease to the flesh, bring new light also to the proper functions of the mind. There, for the Hakim's servant Mr Blyth, and the lady. In this chamber, Crawford Efendi and I shall have much to discuss.… Sweet to be taken up, you say, as medicine is by the lip. Such a creature I enjoy, thin-skinned, tender and delicate, light of flesh and goodly in make, impulsive in walk and beautiful in the justness of stature. Communing thus, shall not our dreaming souls melt?'

For a moment, Lymond did not reply. Then he said, in the same level voice, 'It is written before God, that after this hour we depart all four, in good health to Djerba?'

The Aga Morat had risen. Looking down, his heavy face creased in a smile. 'It is written,' he said.

Slowly, Lymond rose also. He looked neither at Jerott nor at Marthe, but stepped straight out from under the awning and confronted the Aga. In the blinding white light, the fine lines of his skin were all suddenly visible, and his eyes by contrast quite dark. But his hair, uncut since Marseilles, shone mint-gold in the sun. 'If it is so agreed,' Lymond said, 'I am solicitous for thee, as thou art for me.' And without pausing, he followed th ~ Dorothy Dunnett

A tale is told of a man in Paris during the upheaval in 1948, who saw a friend marching after a crowd toward the barricades. Warning him that these could not be held against the troops, that he had better keep way, he received this reply, " I must follow them. I am their leader." ~ Abbott Lawrence Lowell

Them. But I often ask myself to what it all goes.
I learn to love my boys. I kill in them all the bad I can. I nourish in them all the good I can. I send them across the borders of manhood
and they leave me, and most likely I hear nothing more of them. And I say to myself: 'My life is like a wind. It blows and will cease.' But something says in reply: 'Wouldst thou not be one of God's winds, content to blow, and scatter the rain and dew, and shake the plants into fresh life, and then pass away and know nothing of what thou hast done?' And I answer: 'Yes, Lord. ~ George MacDonald

I just don't understand how you can get so much comfort from a religion whose language does so much harm." ... I realized that what troubled me most was her use of the word "comfort," so in my reply I addressed that first. I said that I didn't think it was comfort I was seeking, or comfort that I'd found. Look, I said to her, as a rush of words came to me. As far as I'm concerned, this religion has saved my life, my husband's life, and our marriage. So it's not comfort that I'm talking about but salvation. ~ Kathleen Norris

Teenagers are never joking. when seeking to prove a point, principals and teachers should remember that teenagers are never, ever sarcasic or ironic. if they say "I wish someone would drop a bomb on this school right now," that means they have arranged for a nuclear arsenal to be emptied onto the school and should be immediately suspended and ridiculed. if they say they were merely coming up with a joking excuse to postpone a bio test, reply that all jokes are funny, and that since dropping a bomb on a school is not funny, it is therefore
not
a
joke. ~ David Levithan

In these disturbed days in which we live, it has probably occurred to all thinking men that something drastic ought to be done about aunts. Speaking for myself, I have long felt that stones should be turned and avenues explored with a view to putting a stopper on the relatives in question. If someone were to come to me and say, 'Wooster, would you be interested in joining a society I am starting whose aim will be the suppression of aunts or at least will see to it that they are kept on a short chain and are not permitted to roam hither and thither at will, scattering desolation on all side?', I would reply, 'Wilbraham', if his name was Wilbraham, 'I am with you heart and soul. Put me down as a foundation member. ~ P.G. Wodehouse

But," comes the reply, "I am being driven from the farm which my father and grandfather owned!" Well? Who owned the land before your grandfather? Can you explain what people (I will not say what person) held it originally? You did not enter upon it as a master, but merely as a tenant. And whose tenant are you? If your claim is successful, you are tenant of the heir. The lawyers say that public property cannot be acquired privately by possession;11 what you hold and call your own is public property - indeed, it belongs to mankind at large. ~ Seneca.

Hello, little man,' I said and kissed his cheek.

'Urgh.' He wiped the kiss off. 'I hate lipstick.'

I laughed as if he were joking and kissed him again. 'You'll love it when you're older.'

'When I'm older,' he asked, 'will you be dead?'

Though there was nothing in his tone but interest, the question floored me completely. Stunned, I opened my mouth to reply, but could think of nothing to say.

'The mum of one of the kids in Ben's class is dead,' Red said, his tone neutral. 'Ever since he found out, he's been obsessed.'

'Will you?' Ben pressed.

'Mummy will die when she's old,' his father answered, and I had to bite my tongue, because I knew better than anyone that death did not pre-book appointments decades in advance. Its approach was random, based on whimsy, often violent. I came from a line of women who bore a single child and were dead before its eighteenth birthday. 'You've got nothing to worry about,' Red said. ~ Yvvette Edwards