Not What You Were Looking For Quotes

When your love lets you go you only want love more, even when love wasn't what you were looking for. ~ Tegan Quin

Dead end after dead end. Did you find the answers you were looking for in that book?"
"I haven't had a chance to read it yet," I said nonchalantly.
A half-smile tugged at Noah's mouth. "You fell asleep, didn't you?"
I lifted my chin. "No."
"What page?"
"I didn't fall asleep."
"What page?"
Busted. "Six, ~ Michelle Hodkin

Something is bothering you. I have sensed it all morning." He slid his communicator back into his pocket then took her hand in his, linking their fingers together. The action took her off guard, but she welcomed it. The first time she'd held his hand he'd been confused by it, but this was the second time in the last few days he'd initiated it. She loved it.
"Nothing, just… I was hoping that this evening we could talk about something."
His shoulders stiffened just the slightest fraction. She was getting good at reading the subtle changes in his body language. "What about?"
"Not now. I know you need to get to one of your job sites. Or there's an emergency at the Samio."
He raised a dark eyebrow. "How do you know this?"
"Because your communicator has been buzzing like crazy since we…"
Her cheeks heated up and she cleared her throat. It had started going off when she'd been sitting on his face this morning. They'd both ignored it. Then when she got out of the shower she'd found him responding to what seemed like dozens of communications, one buzz after another. The sounds had been maddening. He'd stopped responding when they left his place, but she understood how busy he was and didn't want to get in the way of that.
"Since we what?" he murmured, leaning closer as they came to a stop in front of another elevator. This one had a shiny, sleek-looking silver door.
"You know what," she whispered, glancing around.
There were two ma ~ Savannah Stuart

What were you wrong about?" I ask in all seriousness. He throws me a glare, looking like he might not answer. "About Daughters of Men." "Oh? We're not all freakish, repulsive animals who sully your reputation?" "No, I was right about all that. ~ Susan Ee

Max,' I said, looking up at him, 'I love the Russian heritage you guys are so willing to share, but I'm not so thrilled with the French.'
'What?' His brows lowered. 'We're not French.'
'Great. So the next time you feel the need to kiss me, keep your tongue out of my mouth! ~ Shannon Delany

Dear Fisher, I guess this is it, huh? After almost fourteen years together, starting a life of our own on this island, five tours of duty and countless letters I've written you through it all, I finally go out to the mailbox and see something I've always dreamed of: an envelope with your handwriting on it. For one moment, I actually thought you'd changed your mind. That all the awful things you said to me were just your way of coping after everything you'd been through. I was still here, Fisher. I was still here, holding my breath, waiting for you to come back even though you told me you never would. You always said you'd find your way back to me. Out of all the lies you've told me, this one hurts the most. Enclosed you will find the signed divorce papers, as requested. I hope you find what you're looking for. I'm sorry it wasn't me. Lucy ~ Tara Sivec

You were very serious," her grandmother continued. "You had these big brown eyes and you were always going, 'What's that? What's that?' You wondered what everything was. You would frown and point a lot, like a conductor looking for your orchestra. You always seemed very busy, like you were between appointments all the time, but you were just a little child. ~ Carrie Fisher

All this time he was sitting up in bed and looking at the woman who was lying beside him and holding his hand in her sleep. He felt an ineffable love for her. Her sleep must have been very light at the moment because she opened her eyes and gazed up at him questioningly.
"What are you looking at?" she asked.
He knew that instead of waking her he should lull her back to sleep, so he tried to come up with an answer that would plant the image of a new dream in her mind.
"I'm looking at the stars," he said.
"Don't say you're looking at the stars. That's a lie. You're looking down."
"That's because we're on an airplane. The stars are below us."
"Oh, in an airplane," said Tereza, squeezing his hand even tighter and falling asleep again. And Tomas knew that Tereza was looking out of the round window of an airplane flying high above the stars. ~ Milan Kundera

That was the thing I hated, that I'd made such a lousy choice. But I didn't. You set out to convince me you were exactly what I was looking for. I had no reason to mistrust you. You lied, I didn't. ~ Susan Mallery

I will tell you that we're all human beings, and we all care about what people think of us. But in general, their outlook is, "We're not looking at opening night numbers. We're not looking at opening night box office. We want this to be part of the reason you come to our service." ~ Mitchell Hurwitz

Wizards, she thought, when she gained her composure. What good were they if they couldn't tell you how to do stuff, if they were always talking in riddles and saying they knew everything before it even happened? It wasn't very helpful.
If she were a wizard, she'd write reports for people. She'd make sure everything was very clear. She'd write, Looking for a magical sword? No problem. Go to the fifth floor, turn left, open a large wooden chest, et cetera, et cetera. She'd have check boxes. Found your magical sword? Place X here. ~ Karen Foxlee

Why weren't there any women in Jesus' gang?' asked Winnifred. 'Jesus' gang?' echoed the vicar surprised. 'Jesus never had a gang. Ah - you mean the Twelve.' Winnifred nodded. The vicar looked perplexed. 'Well, it wouldn't really have been appropriate, would it?' 'Why not?' I asked. 'It just wouldn't,' replied the vicar, looking annoyed at my question. 'But Jesus had a lot of girl friends,' said Pearl. 'He certainly didn't,' replied the vicar, shocked. 'But Vicar, what about Mary and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus? The Bible says that Jesus loved them,' insisted Pearl. 'And then there was Mary Magdalene,' I added. 'She wanted to hug him in Joseph's garden when he had just come out of the tomb, but Jesus told her not to touch him.' 'Yes - well - ' said the vicar uncertainly. 'They were good followers of Jesus and they loved him - as we should all love him. No more questions now. We will be starting the service shortly.' 'Not very helpful,' I whispered to Winnifred. 'If Jesus had had a few women in his group of twelve, it would be much easier to know how to live with them. ~ Peter St. John

Very few entities are powerful enough to create Patinas, and those that can guard them closely. The library is here. But Arriane's right. We'll need to figure out the way in."
"I heard you need an Announcer to get through one," Arriane said.
"Cosmic legend." Annabelle shook her head. "Every Patina is different. Access is entirely up to the creator. They program the code."
"I once heard Cam tell a story at a party about how he accessed a Patina," Rolan said. "Or was that a story about a party that he threw in a Patina?"
"Luce!" Daniel said suddenly, making all of them startle in midair. "It's you. It was always you."
Luce shrugged. "Always me what?"
"You're the one who always rang the bell. You're the one who had entry to the library. You just need to ring the bell."
Luce looked at the empty street, the fog tinting everything around them brown. "What are you talking about? What bell?"
"Close your eyes," Daniel said. "Remember it. Pass into the past and find the bellpull-"
Luce was already there, back at the library the last time she'd been in Vienna with Daniel. Her feet were firmly on the ground. It was raining and her hair splayed all across her face. Her crimson hair ribbons were soaked, but she didn't care. She was looking for something. There was a short path up the courtyard, then a dark alcove outside the library. It had been cold outside, and a fire blazed within. There, in the musty corner near the door, was a woven cord em ~ Lauren Kate

I was trying to think the other day about what you do now in America if you want to be successful. Before, you were dependable and wore a good suit. Looking around, I guess that today you have to do all the same things but not wear a good suit. I guess that's all it is. Think rich. Look poor. ~ Andy Warhol

If you'd just told me you wanted her for yourself, I wouldn't have opened my mouth. Asshole."
"He doesn't want me for himself," Melanie said. "He isn't looking for a relationship."
"It doesn't matter if he's looking," Richart grumbled. "He's found one. The two of you can't take your eyes off each other. And in the rare moments you do, you usually touch."
"What?" Bastien said the same time Melanie did.
Was she as appalled that her feelings were so transparent as he was?
"Don't worry." Richart drew out a handkerchief and wiped his crimson lips. "I doubt anyone else has noticed. Bastien is usually too busy pissing them all off."
"He doesn't piss you off?" Melanie asked.
"Other than just now" - Richart glared at Bastien - "no. I've spent enough time in his company that I've become immune to his bullshit. ~ Dianne Duvall

She sighed, wishing he had been the hero she was looking for, wishing that ambush had been as much of a surprise to him as it was to her.
"You still haven't tried to set the past behind us," he pointed out. "Why don't you go ahead and tell me what a sorry-assed son of a bitch loser I am, so we can start moving forward?"
She glanced at him.
"Come on," he said. "Let me have it. Full power."
"You're . . . such a jerk."
"What, are you kidding? Jerks cut you off when you're driving. They steal your parking space. They don't nearly get you killed. You can do better than that."
"You're a . . ." She couldn't say it.
"Start with bastard. I'm a bastard. Come on, Allie. The word's barely even offensive. Try it. Bastard."
"You . . ."
". . . stinking sack of shit." He laughed at the look on her face. "Yeah, you're so polite, but I know you want to say it."
"I . . ."
". . . hate you, you scum-sucking loser. Asshole. Dick-head. Multiple choice, Al. I'm making it even easier for you."
"I thought you might be special." She finally forced the words out. "I thought you were better than the others."
Silence.
Harry stared at the road, all laughter gone from his face. "Yeah, well. You were wrong, huh?"
She had been wrong. But he couldn't begin to guess how badly she wished she hadn't been. ~ Suzanne Brockmann

What were you thinking about just
now while you were looking out the window?" To his surprise, the question flustered her.
"I - wasn't thinking."
"Then what were you doing?" he asked, his curiosity aroused.
A rueful smile touched her inviting lips, and she shot him a sideways look before turning back to the
window. "I was ... talking to God," she admitted. "'Tis a habit I have."
Startled and slightly amused, Royce said, "Really? What did God have to say?"
"I think," she softly replied, "He said, 'You're welcome.' "
"For what?" Royce teased.
Lifting her eyes to his, Jenny solemnly replied, "For you. ~ Judith McNaught

And he wanted us to call him Twilight.

I was too tired and melancholy to truly feel the level of bafflement this request deserved. However, I did notice the initial exchange between my brother and Isaac/Twilight when they arrived with Tina's momma. It went something like this:

Jackson: "Tina. I didn't know you were bringing Isaac. Good to see you, man."

Isaac/Twilight: "It's Twilight."

Jackson (looking bemused): "No it ain't, it's not even noon yet."

Isaac/Twilight: "No. My name is Twilight."

Jackson (still looking bemused): "Say what?"

Isaac/Twilight: "My name. Call me Twilight."

Jackson: "You mean like that My Little Pony character?"

Tina: "Jackson! I didn't know you were a My Little Pony fan."

Jackson (scowling then motioning to Isaac/Twilight): "Jessica was always watching it growing up, and I'm not a fan - not like Twilight Sparkle over here."

Isaac/Twilight: "The name is Twilight, not Twilight Sparkle."

Jackson (irritated): "If you want me to call you Twilight, then don't be surprised if I slip up a few times and call you Pinky Pie."

A similar conversation ensued when Twilight was brought in to greet my dad, except my dad said, "That's not a name, son. That's a time of day. ~ Penny Reid

Ground rules, Tanner," he growled. Tanner paled. More good. "No alcohol. No smoking. No drugs. No looking at other girls. You can dance with my daughter. Your hands will avoid the danger zones, which are here, here and here." Liam gestured to his chest, groin and ass. "You can kiss her. Once. At 10:59 p.m. tonight, when you'll be standing here once again. I will be on the other side of this door, waiting for her. Am I clear?" "Yes, sir," Tanner whispered. "I was your age once, too," Liam said. "I'm aware of that, sir." "I know what you think about." "I'm sorry." "You can think it. You can't do it." "Okay." "I have many sharp tools in my garage." "Yes, sir." "We're clear, then?" "Very, sir." "Good!" Liam smiled, then grabbed the boy by the shoulder and dragged him in. "Nicole! Your date's here. ~ Kristan Higgins

The family were wild," she said suddenly. "They tried to marry me off. And then when I'd begun to feel that after all life was scarcely worth living I found something" - her eyes went skyward exultantly - "I found something!"

Carlyle waited and her words came with a rush.

"Courage - just that; courage as a rule of life, and something to cling to always. I began to build up this enormous faith in myself. I began to see that in all my idols in the past some manifestation of courage had unconsciously been the thing that attracted me. I began separating courage from the other things of life. All sorts of courage - the beaten, bloody prize-fighter coming up for more - I used to make men take me to prize-fights; the déclassé woman sailing through a nest of cats and looking at them as if they were mud under her feet; the liking what you like always; the utter disregard for other people's opinions - just to live as I liked always and to die in my own way - Did you bring up the cigarettes?"

He handed one over and held a match for her silently.

"Still," Ardita continued, "the men kept gathering - old men and young men, my mental and physical inferiors, most of them, but all intensely desiring to have me - to own this rather magnificent proud tradition I'd built up round me. Do you see?"

"Sort of. You never were beaten and you never apologized."

"Never!"

She sprang to the edge, poised or a moment like a c ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

Yes. I was looking for Lettie. They were both very kind to me," Percival said, "Even though they'd never seen me before. And Wizard Howl kept visiting to court Lettie. Lettie didn't want him, and she asked me to bite him to get rid of him, until Howl suddenly began asking her about you and - "
"what?"
he said, " I know someone called sophie who looks a little like you.. And Lettie said, that's my sister,' without thinking," Percival said. " And she got terribly worried then, particularly as Howl went on asking about her sister. ~ Diana Wynne Jones

In December, at the darkest time of the year, Olenka delivered triplets. Mother-in-law came by and called Benedikt in to come look at the brood. She congratulated him. He lay there, empty and heavy-hearted, waiting for the signal; and there wasn't any. All right then, he'd go take a look.
There were three kids: one appeared to be female, she was tiny and cried. Another seemed to be a boy, but it was hard to tell right off. The third
well, you couldn't figure out what it was
to look at, it was a fuzzy, scary-looking ball. All round-like, but with eyes. They picked it up in their arms to rock it, and started singing: "Bye Baby Bunting, Daddy's gone a-hunting ... " and with a shove it pushed away, jumped on the floor, rolled off, and disappeared into a crack in the floor. They all rushed to catch it, their hands outstretched. They moved stools and benches
but no luck. ~ Tatyana Tolstaya

There was once an invisible man, the monster continued, though Conor kept his eyes firmly on Harry, who had grown tired of being unseen.
Conor set himself into a walk.
A walk after Harry.
It was not that he was actually invisible, the monster said, following Conor, the room volume dropping as they passed. It was that the people had become used to not seeing him.
"Hey!" Conor called. Harry didn't turn around. Neither did Sully nor Anton, though thet were still sniggering as Conor picked up his pace.
And if no one sees you, the monster said, picking up its pace, too, are you really there at all?
"HEY!" Conor called loudly.
The dining hall had fallen silent now, as Conor and the monster moved faster after Harry.
Harry who had still not turned around.
Conor reached him and grabbed him by the shoulder, twisting him round. Harry pretended to question what had happened, looking hard at Sully, acting like he was the one who'd done it. "Quit messing about," Harry said and turned away again.
Turned away from Conor.
And then one day the invisible man decided, the monster said, its voice ringing in Conor's ears, I will make them see me.
"How?" Conor asked, breathing heavily again, not turning back to see the monster standing there, not looking at the reaction of the room to the huge monster now in the midst, though he was aware of nervous murmurs and a strange anticipation in the air. "How did the man do it?"
Conor could f ~ Patrick Ness

Nature's wisdom teaches us that where life is in motion, it's healthy; where it's stagnant, it's dying. But people have to interpret that journey in a way that's authentic for them . . . whatever helps you. We call it "finding your own true north"-- like on a compass. In production-drive societies, we're tricked into believing that true north is outside of us. So we're constantly looking outside ourselves to figure out if this is the right job, the right house, the right relationship, the right subject to be studying. But our true north is invariably inside us . . . if we do what we love to do, what we're inspired to do, what we believe in, it creates an entirely different response. ~ Julia Butterfly Hill

Looking back, looking back and trying to figure what made you that way, several things stand out in your mind. There may have been more than several. Maybe there were a hundred. Maybe a thousand. Small events, little episodes, all pointing you in the same direction, so that you might think you had free will when you wobbled from side to side on the track, but there were no switches for you to throw, no turnings to choose. ~ Robert Bloch

Lucinda and Mr. Wiley were returning at last, and she ran to Lucinda, hastily stepping around the black horse, who laid his ears back evilly in warning. "Lucy!" she burst out while Lucinda waited calmly for Mr. Wiley to help her down. "Lucy! Disaster has struck."
"A moment, if you please, Elizabeth," said the unflappable woman. "Whatever it is, it will surely wait until we're inside and can be comfortable. I declare, I feel as if I were born atop this horse. You cannot imagine the time we had finding suitable servants…"
Elizabeth scarcely heard the rest of what she was saying. In a torment of frantic helplessness she had to wait while Lucinda dismounted, limped into the house, and sat down upon the sofa. "Now then," said Lucinda, flicking a speck of dust off her skirts, "what has happened?"
Oblivious to the vicar, who was standing by the fireplace looking mystified and alarmed on her behalf, Elizabeth handed Lucinda the note. "Read this. It-it sounds as if he's already accepted him."
As she read the brief missive Lucinda's face turned an awful gray with two bright splotches of angry color standing out on her hollow cheeks. "He'd accept an offer from the devil," Lucinda gritted wrathfully, "so long as he had a noble title and money. This shouldn't come as a surprise."
"I was so certain I'd persuaded Belhaven that we couldn't possibly suit!" Elizabeth almost wailed, twisting her blue skirt in her hands in her agitation. "I did everything, Lucy, everythi ~ Judith McNaught

It's laughable, looking back, to see the processes I went through, pretending to make a reasoned decision. No choice is ever made on the basis of logic; the logic is fabricated around the impulse, the initial desire which is innate and incontrovertible. All the time, I knew where I was going, the elements of my fulfillment or ruin were always present; I only had to work my way into that seam of desire and find the hidden vein of dross or gold. It's not a question of predestination, it's just that free will and destiny are illusions, false opposites, consolations. In the end, they are one and the same: a single process. You choose what you choose and it could not have been otherwise: the choice is destiny. It was there all along, but any alternative you might have considered is an absurd diversion, because it is in your nature to make one choice rather than another. That is identity. To speak of freedom or destiny is absurd because it suggests there is something outside yourself, directing your life, where really it is of the essence: identity, the craftwork of the soul. ~ John Burnside

A second later, Ron had snatched his arm back from around her shoulders; she had dropped The Monster Book of Monsters on his foot. The book had broken free from its restraining belt and snapped viciously at Ron's ankle.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Hermione cried as Harry wrenched the book from Ron's leg and retied it shut.
"What are you doing with all those books anyway?" Ron asked, limping back to his bed.
"Just trying to decide which ones to take with us," said Hermione. "When we're looking for the Horcruxes."
"Oh, of course," said Ron, clapping a hand to his forehead. "I forgot we'll be hunting down Voldemort in a mobile library."
"Ha ha," said Hermione, looking down at Spellman's Syllabary. ~ J.K. Rowling

Here's the beauty of a camera: you don't have to come up with words for what you're looking at ... Maybe another angle is needed sometimes. When we're burned out from writing, we can photograph or draw, look at the world in a different way, and photographers could try writing what they see. ~ Barbara Abercrombie

Explain your type again." Ash says. "Let's define the problem."
I squint my eyes, because everyone knows that makes you smarter. I didn't know I had a type, but when I look back at my few exes over the years… yeah, there seems to be a pattern. "Frail-looking, vegetarian or gluten free, intellectual, ironic, good hygiene."
Sadie and Ash just look at me for a beat. "Thank God we're helping you." Ash says. "I mean, what the fuck? Why didn't we notice this before?"
Sadie is nodding.
Ash says, "so we just need to find someone who's huge, a carnivore, doesn't talk, smells manly and… what's the opposite of ironic?"
"I have no idea. Let's simplify it. We're looking for a man, instead of what you've been attracted to."
"What have I been attracted to?"
"Gwyneth Paltrow I'm pretty sure. And every time I see her on TV, I just want to kick her. ~ Sarina Bowen

Dreams are what keep a man going, William, and already your father was dreaming empire. But looking at him on the day he left that town he was born in, you would have seen little more than a young, handsome boy with nothing but the clothes on his back and the holes in his shoes. You might not have actually seen the holes in his shoes, but they were there, William; the holes were there. "That ~ Daniel Wallace

One thing that tells me a company is in trouble is when they tell me how good they were in the past. Same with countries. You don't want to forget your identity. I am glad that you were great in the fourteenth century, but that was then and this is now. When memories exceed dreams, the end is near. The hallmark of a truly successful organization is the willingness to abandon what made it successful and start fresh."
In societies that have more memories than dreams, too many people are spending too many days looking backward. They see dignity, affirmation, and self-worth not by mining the present but by chewing on the past. And even that is usually not a real past but an imagined and adorned past. Indeed, such societies focus all their imagination on making that imagined past even more beautiful than it ever was, and then they cling to it…, rather than imagining a better future and acting on that. ~ Thomas L. Friedman

I thought we were well past this game by now."
"What game?" I blushed.
"The one where you act like I'm faking my physical attraction to you. You got my dick hard as a fucking rock in public yesterday. I think you should know by now that I genuinely enjoy looking at you and that it's going to be torture for me tonight.
"I struggled to muster up a response. "What…what do you mean?"
"That I'm gonna get to watch you all night tonight – wear you on my arm, look at you, touch you. But I can't go anywhere beyond that and if we're being honest here, it's going to fucking suck. ~ Stella Rhys

Look- here's a table covered with red cloth. On it is a cage the size of a small fish aquarium. In the cage is a white rabbit with a pink nose and pink-rimmed eyes. [ ... ] On its back, clearly marked in blue ink, is the numeral 8. [ ... ] The most interesting thing here isn't even the carrot-munching rabbit in the cage, but the number on its back. Not a six, not a four, not nineteen-point-five. It's an eight. This is what we're looking at, and we all see it. I didn't tell you. You didn't ask me. I never opened my mouth and you never opened yours. We're not even in the same year together, let alone the same room ... except we are together. We are close. We're having a meeting of the minds. [ ... ] We've engaged in an act of telepathy. No mythy-mountain shit; real telepathy. ~ Stephen King

Can you read and write in English?""English, Spanish and Dutch," she said. "My French is serviceable, too.""What do you know," the older man said, looking surprised. "I didn't realize you could study that here." It always seemed to amaze foreigners that they were not all running around in loincloths, praying to the rain gods. ~ Silvia Moreno-Garcia

I love you!" he bellowed at me and his eyes turned black. "Happy now? I love you, okay? I love you
so fucking much that it hurts! It's driving me insane! I loved you from the moment I saw you doing
your Miss Marple impression in those woods back at The Ragged Cove. But I could tell you were
sweet on Luke and hey, why not? He's the good-looking one, right? I mean, I'm just the hired muscle.
I'm the one who gets everyone else out of the shit. But I couldn't help my feelings, I'd never felt like
that before. So yeah, okay I stole a kiss from you in the gatehouse – big fucking deal! But you know
what? That was the biggest mistake of my life, because that one kiss from you drove me out of my tiny
freaking mind! So, I'm sorry if I give the boy a hard time and ain't too gentle with the girl, but I'm not
going to sit back and watch you risk your life just so you can blow their noses and wipe their arses!"
I looked at Potter and he seemed almost out of breath after his rant. Once he had finished, he put out
his cigarette and lit another one. Standing, I looked at him and said, "Potter, I had no idea…"
"Ah, forget it," he said, waving me away with his hand. "I shouldn't have said anything. Besides, I'll
be moving out at first light in search of Luke. Once I've rescued him, I'll bring him to you in The
Hollows and you won't have to see me again. ~ Tim O'Rourke