Paper Cut Quotes

Oh, the envelope did contain magic," a strange, low voice said from the doorway.
Judith looked over. She forgot her cut and her coffee. And how to breathe.
The tall, broad man filling up the door frame looked like a warrior angel with gold hair falling into his eyes, a pale-gold undertone to his skin, and 'heartbreaking' green eyes….
"Any magic that involves blood is a grave threat," he continued. "And death by paper cut would be a long and tedious way to go. I can help. ~ Erin Kellison

The journey of reinvention is one of raw emotions
Emerging from dormancy
Surprising as a paper cut
Overwhelming as a hailstorm
One part vulnerability
One part rage
One part surrender
Uncomfortable
Unfamiliar
Unsure
Fearful
Alone
Damaged
Broken
And finding a new Self
Slowly
Different
Healing
Humble
Present
Open
Longing
Free ~ Dave Rudbarg

Home is a damaged word, bruisable as fruit, in the cruel glossaries of the language I choose to describe the long, fearful march of my childhood. Home was a word that caught in my throat, stung like a paper cut, drew blood in its passover of my life, and hurt me in all the soft places. My longing for home was as powerful as fire in my bloodstream. ~ Pat Conroy

A smile opened, thin as a paper cut, in the bottom of Flowers's face. ~ Michael Chabon

It is true. I did fall asleep at the wheel. We nearly went right off a cliff down into a gorge. But there were extenuating circumstances."
Ian snickered. "Are you going to pull out the cry-baby card? He had a little bitty wound he forgot to tell us about, that's how small it was. Ever since he fell asleep he's been trying to make us believe that contributed."
"It wasn't little. I have a scar. A knife fight." Sam was righteous about it.
"He barely nicked you," Ian sneered. "A tiny little slice that looked like a paper cut."
Sam extended his arm to Azami so she could see the evidence of the two-inch line of white marring his darker skin. "I bled profusely. I was weak and we hadn't slept in days."
"Profusely?" Ian echoed. "Ha! Two drops of blood is not profuse bleeding, Knight. We hadn't slept in days, that much is true, but the rest . . ." He trailed off, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at Azami.
Azami examined the barely there scar. The knife hadn't inflicted much damage, and Sam knew she'd seen evidence of much worse wounds. "Had you been drinking?" she asked, her eyes wide with innocence. Those long lashes fanned her cheeks as she gaze at him until his heart tripped all over itself.
Sam groaned. "Don't listen to him. I wasn't drinking, but once we were pretty much in the middle of a hurricane in the South Pacific on a rescue mission and Ian here decides he has to go into this bar . . ."
"Oh, no." Ian burst out laughing. "You're n ~ Christine Feehan

And why did knowing that he only wanted to find Evalle for that one reason feel like a paper cut doused with lemon juice? Because her brain had wandered off into Stupid Land.' – Evalle ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

Why did you stop talking to me?" she asks. "After all those years of seeing each other day in and day out, why did you stop being my friend?" She pauses, and I lower my head because each and every word is a paper cut on my heart. "What did I do wrong?"
I shake my head because I got nothing. Nothing that will make sense to her. What's worse, I don't have anything that makes sense to me. At least not anymore. ~ Katie McGarry

For you guys out there who think looking doesn't hurt? You're wrong. Because we women don't think you're just enjoying the view. We think you're comparing, finding us lacking. And that stings. Like a paper cut on your eyeball. ~ Emma Chase

Doing this would be like starting with a paper cut and trying to bandage it with a machete. ~ Jilly Gagnon

he looks flawless
and yet he's excessively vain- irritating my senses
like paper-cut pain. ~ Hend Suhail

I have a paper cut from writing my suicide note. It's a start ... ~ Steven Wright

If I got a paper cut, that's a tragedy. If you fell down an open manhole and died, that's comedy. ~ Woody Allen

You can't get on Facebook and complain about the NSA's data mining operation - On Facebook - the most invasive, privacy harmful institution on the planet. It's like whining about a paper cut while swimming in a shark tank. ~ T. Rafael Cimino

Used to be you could see the orange glow of the hi-intensity arc-sodiums from North Conway, but no more. Now there's just the White Mountains, looking like dark triangles of crepe paper cut out by a child, and the pointless ~ Stephen King

Count my own money, see the paper cut fingers? ~ Drake

I want to paper cut her. On every square inch of her body. And then roll her in salt water. ~ M. Leighton

I was busy perusing the suicide notes and waiting for Belvedere's water to finish its treatment when I heard a thud from Cookie's office. Then a mousy squeak. The a throaty moan.
"Cookie," I said, wiggling my fingers at Belvedere to get him acquainted to with our strange ways, "are you masturbating?"
"No, I got a paper cut."
Oh, I didn't see that coming. ~ Darynda Jones

Not all books received as gifts are transformative, of course. Sometimes the only thing a book gives its reader is a paper cut. ~ Robert Macfarlane

He sat down among the evidence at a barren communal desk in the basement of the station. He looked through the stack of extra fliers that my father had made up. He had memorized my face, but still he looked at them. He had come to believe that the best hope in my case might be the recent rise in development in the area. With all the land churning and changing, perhaps other clues whould be found that would provide the answer he needed.
In the bottom of the box was the bag with my jingle-bell hat. When he'd handled it to my mother, she had collasped on the rug. He still couldn't pinpoint the moment he'd fallen in love with her. I knew it was the day he'd sat in our family room while my mother drew stick figures on butcher paper and Buckley and Nate slept toe to toe on the couch. I felt sorry for him. He had tried to solve my murder and he failed. He had tried to love my mother and he had failed.
Len looked at the drawing of the cornfield that Lindsey had stolen and forced himself to acknowledge this: in his cautiousness, he had allowed a murderer to get away. He could not shake his guilt. He knew, if no one else did, that by being with my mother in the mall that day he was the one to blame for George Harvey's freedom.
He took his wallet out of his back pocket and laid down the photos of all the unsolved cases he had ever worked on. Among them were his wife's. He turned them all face-down. 'Gone,' he wrote on each one of them. He would no longer wait for a date t ~ Alice Sebold

I was standing amid floor-to-ceiling shelves of books in wonder and awe when my view of stories suddenly and forever changed. There were enormous piles of books lying in corners. Books covered the walls. Books even lined the staircases as you went up from one floor to the next. It was as if this used bookstore was not just a place for selling used books; it was like the infrastructure itself was made up of books. There were books to hold more books, stories built out of stories.

I was standing in Daedalus Books in Charlottesville, Virginia, and I had recently read Mortimer J. Adler's How to Read a Book. I was alive with the desire to read. But at that particular moment, my glee turned to horror. For whatever reason, the truth of the numbers suddenly hit me. The year before, I had read about thirty books. For me, that was a new record. But then I started counting. I was in my early twenties, and with any luck I'd live at least fifty more years. At that rate, I'd have about 1,500 books in me, give or take.

There were more books than that on the single wall I was staring at.

That's when I had a realization of my mortality. My desire outpaced reality. I simply didn't have the life to read what I wanted to read.

Suddenly my choices in that bookstore became a profound act of deciding. The Latin root of the word decide - cise or cide - is to "cut off' or "kill." The idea is that to choose anything means to kill off other options you m ~ Justin Whitmel Earley

Anyone who tries to imprison love will cut off the spring that feeds it, and the trapped water will grow stagnant and rank. ~ Paulo Coelho

Indeed, an engineer designing a structure is not unlike an artist painting one. Both start with nothing but talent, experience, and inspiration. The fresh piece of paper on the drawing board is as blank as the newly stretched piece of canvas. ~ Henry Petroski

And by the way, my dear,' he said, 'you might just mention to Mrs. Sutton that if she must read the morning paper before I come down, I should be obliged if she would fold it neatly afterwards.'
'What an old fuss-box you are, darling,' said his wife.
Mr. Mummery sighed. He could not explain that it was somehow important that the morning paper should come to him fresh and prim, like a virgin.
Women did not feel these things. ("Suspicion") ~ Dorothy L. Sayers

When you're young, and you have long hair, it's just really long hair. And then you get to a certain point where you start to look after it, and then people will tell you that you have to cut a little bit off so it grows quicker. And it just doesn't. It just has more cut off. And I think I just got really annoyed with it. ~ Justin Hawkins

A heat wave crashes into my body and I tug at the collar of my winter coat. I could take this thing off and probably still sweat. The memories of his mouth moving against mine and how his hands pressed into my body flood my brain. I lick my lips in anticipation. I crave for him to kiss me again, but ... "Are you going to call me after?"
A small grin plays on his lips. "You aren't going to cut me any slack, are you?"
It's like he's begging me to tease him, and without thought, I slide back to the braver girl at the bar. "Is that a problem?"
He shakes his head. "Not from you." ~ Katie McGarry

This book contains a story and several other things. The other things might be connected with the story, or they might not; they might be connected to stories that haven't appeared yet. It's not easy to tell.

It's easy to imagine how they might have turned up, though. The world is full of things like that: old postcards, theater programs, leaflets about bomb-proofing your cellar, greeting cards, photograph albums, holiday brochures, instruction booklets for machine tools, maps, catalogs, railway timetables, menu cards from long-gone cruise liners-all kinds of things that once served a real and useful purpose, but have now become cut adrift from the things and the people they relate to.

They might have come from anywhere. They might have come from other worlds. That scribbled-on map, that publisher's catalog-they might have been put down absentmindedly in another universe, and been blown by a chance wind through an open window, to find themselves after many adventures on a market stall in our world. ~ Philip Pullman

Life had once been clear-cut, black and white, but now, the colors had starting to bleed together into an ugly gray. That gray seemed to follow me everywhere. I just had to remember to keep finding the silver lining. ~ Cameo Renae

Reality is as thin as paper, and betrays with all its cracks its imitative character. ~ Bruno Schulz

For the Wife Beater's Wife

With blue irises her face is blossomed. Blue
Circling to yellow, circling to brown on her cheeks.
The long bone of her jaw untracked
She hides in our kitchen.
He sleeps it off next door.

Her chicken legs tucked under her
She's frantic with lies, animated
Before the swirling smoke.
On her cigarette she leaves red prints, red
Like a cut on the white cup.
Like a skin she pulls her sweater around her.
She's cold,
She brings the cold in with her.

In our kitchen she hides.
He sleeps it off next door, his great
Belly heaving with booze.
Again and again she tells the story
As if the details ever changed,
As if blows to the face were somehow
Different beating to beating.

We reach for her but can't help.
She retreats into her cold love of him
And looks across the table at us
As if across a sea.
Next door he claws out of sleep.
She says she thinks she'll do something
After all, with her hair tonight. ~ Bruce Weigl

I'd like to cut down on the work a little bit. ~ James Brown

The benefits brought to the Russian people by Bolshevism exist only on paper painted in glowing colors by Bolshevist propaganda. ~ Emma Goldman

I often think that eventually I'd love to do some papers ... my correspondence if life calms down a bit, but I think I'd do history or English literature ... I've had enough of journos. ~ Brooke Fraser

Suicide doll's suicide
Pretty, but with death there's no way to hide
Afraid to make a cut, see there's nothing inside
If your friends told you to jump off a bridge
You'd step to the edge and fly.
._. ~ Rae Mariz

Is he aiming at doing anything, or simply undoing what's been done? It's the great misfortune of our government - this paper administration, of which he's a worthy representative. ~ Leo Tolstoy

It is often wonderful how putting down on paper a clear statement of a case helps one to see, not perhaps the way out, but the way in. ~ A. C. Benson

Fundamentally, I always find that most of the films that I've put out are essentially the director's cut. Part of the process with a director's cut is the leaving behind of certain aspects of the movie that we don't feel necessary because they aren't part of the dynamic of the story. ~ Ridley Scott

Trying what?" cried Maury fiercely. "Trying to pierce the darkness of political idealism with some wild, despairing urge toward truth? Sitting day after day supine in a rigid chair and infinitely removed from life staring at the tip of a steeple through the trees, trying to separate, definitely and for all time, the knowable from the unknowable? Trying to take a piece of actuality and give it glamour from your own soul to make for that inexpressible quality it possessed in life and lost in transit to paper or canvas? ~ F Scott Fitzgerald

You don't cut anywhere, don't pick down anywhere, don't double screen, no weak side picking. All these things that should happen in a game of basketball don't happen anymore. ~ Oscar Robertson

I think of my feather pen
as something magical
that still belongs
to a wing.

All I need
is paper, ink,
and the courage
to let wild words soar. ~ Margarita Engle

As fast as they peep up let's cut 'em down. ~ Thomas Middleton

Sometimes if you're wanting to look just a little bit taller, then you want to dress with just more of a thin cut. ~ Robert Downey, Jr.

The news that she had gone of course now spread rapidly, and by lunch time Riseholme had made up its mind what to do, and that was hermetically to close its lips for ever on the subject of Lucia. You might think what you pleased, for it was a free country, but silence was best. But this counsel of perfection was not easy to practice next day when the evening paper came. There, for all the world to read were two quite long paragraphs, in "Five o'clock Chit-Chat," over the renowned signature of Hermione, entirely about Lucia and 25 Brompton Square, and there for all the world to see was the reproduction of one of her most elegant photographs, in which she gazed dreamily outwards and a little upwards, with her fingers still pressed on the last chord of (probably) the Moonlight Sonata. . . . She had come up, so Hermione told countless readers, from her Elizabethan country seat at Riseholme (where she was a neighbour of Miss Olga Bracely) and was settling for the season in the beautiful little house in Brompton Square, which was the freehold property of her husband, and had just come to him on the death of his aunt. It was a veritable treasure house of exquisite furniture, with a charming music-room where Lucia had given Hermione a cup of tea from her marvellous Worcester tea service. . . . (At this point Daisy, whose hands were trembling with passion, exclaimed in a loud and injured voice, "The very day she arrived!") Mrs. Lucas (one of the Warwickshire Smythes by birth) was, as ~ E.F. Benson

Trying to cut corners and get around rules makes [anyone] miserable. When you
'make yourself mind yourself,' when you know you are going to do what you say
you will do, you will know joy. ~ Barbara Workman

Compliments of congratulation are always kindly taken, and cost nothing but pen, ink and paper. I consider them as draughts upon good breeding, where the exchange is always greatly in favor of the drawer. ~ Lord Chesterfield

Beauty! Art! Wit!
Wonderment! Humility!
Arrogance! Style!
Virtue! Decency!
Patience!
And all the others,
Gone, trampled by the
Newly-polished jack boots
Of the clog-suited society.
I'm a stranger here, from
Another planet;
Not spotted yet, but
Getting peculiar stares>
Forbidden entrance to
All the places where
Air remains,
Where green is true
and water unmolested.
In any other time,
(Excepting Attila's)
I'd be a hero.
Why, they'd even name
An alley after me
And put a blotting-paper
Plaque on all my doors.
Not because I was great
But because I insisted on
All the words and ways rejected by
Those who wait ferally
In the ancient trees. ~ Alec Wilder

I read my copy of On the Road and dug the scenery whizzing past. On the Road is a semi-autobiographical novel about Jack Kerouac, a druggy, hard-drinking writer who goes hitchhiking around America, working crummy jobs, howling through the streets at night, meeting people and parting ways. Hipsters, sad-faced hobos, con-men, muggers, scumbags and angels. There's not really a plot -- Kerouac supposedly wrote it in three weeks on a long roll of paper, stoned out of his mind -- only a bunch of amazing things, one thing happening after another. He makes friends with self-destructing people like Dean Moriarty, who get him involved in weird schemes that never really work out, but still it works out, if you know what I mean.

There was a rhythm to the words, it was luscious, I could hear it being read aloud in my head. It made me want to lie down in the bed of a pickup truck and wake up in a dusty little town somewhere in the central valley on the way to LA, one of those places with a gas station and a diner, and just walk out into the fields and meet people and see stuff and do stuff. ~ Cory Doctorow

John Lewis is such a remarkable human being. Literally, such a beautiful human being. I remember the first time I met him. We were in the middle of a scene and [Selma director] Ava DuVernay calls, "Cut," and then he literally just came in. He just came walking in.I just froze. I can't explain the feeling. Seeing somebody who was literally a living hero. He was a hero. ~ Stephan James

Immortality is often ridiculous or cruel: few of us would have chosen to be Og or Ananias or Gallio. Even in mathematics, history sometimes plays strange tricks; Rolle figures in the textbooks of elementary calculus as if he had been a mathematician like Newton; Farey is immortal because he failed to understand a theorem which Haros had proved perfectly fourteen years before; the names of five worthy Norwegians still stand in Abel's Life, just for one act of conscientious imbecility, dutifully performed at the expense of their country's greatest man. But on the whole the history of science is fair, and this is particularly true in mathematics. No other subject has such clear-cut or unanimously accepted standards, and the men who are remembered are almost always the men who merit it. Mathematical fame, if you have the cash to pay for it, is one of the soundest and steadiest of investments. ~ G.H. Hardy

Loyalty is an admirable quality,' said Barezin. 'Admirable. But it must cut both ways.'

'Loyalty to a corrupt regime,' added Heugen, 'is foolishness . Worse. Cowardice. Worse! It's disloyalty! ~ Joe Abercrombie

They go the long way but we take the short cut Give me the blonde hair, long weave, short cut ~ Nicki Minaj

Wolfgang Pauli, in the months before Heisenberg's paper on matrix mechanics pointed the way to a new quantum theory, wrote to a friend, "At the moment physics is again terribly confused. In any case, it is too difficult for me, and I wish I had been a movie comedian or something of the sort and had never heard of physics." That testimony is particularly impressive if contrasted with Pauli's words less than five months later: "Heisenberg's type of mechanics has again given me hope and joy in life. To be sure it does not supply the solution to the riddle, but I believe it is again possible to march forward. ~ Wolfgang Pauli

I look forward to standing shoulder to shoulder with Speaker Boehner, Leader Cantor, Whip McCarthy and the entire republican conference as we repeal Obamacare, fight rampant job killing regulations, cut spending and help put folks back to work. ~ Fred Upton

You know the story in the bible? The one with the king and the two women fighting over the baby?
Sure King Solomon.
That's right, king solomon he said, cut the kid in half ... but it was only a test. Just to see who would give up their share to protect it ... Well, I'm not going to cut you in half anymore.
He was telling me that he loved me the most, that his surrender proved it. ~ Stephenie Meyer

I will be a sonofabitch if he ain't in here at eleven-thirty at night, fartin' around in the dark with a pair of scissors and a paper sack. ~ Ken Kesey

When I was a kid in the mid-'60s, I was what's known as a moddie boy, a prototype skinhead. You all had your hair like a crew cut, cropped, with suits or Levis with red suspenders, sometimes Doc Martens. It was a thriving soul music, Motown and ska scene; we used to dance to Prince Buster and the Skatalites. ~ Graham Parker

Excuse me?" he said. "It's wrong to have something to say? I guess we could do the paper on Gandhi's feelings about make-up and fashion, but other than that Vogue cover in that really cute loincloth after he'd had all the diet success, we don't have a lot of material. ~ Amy Meredith

I worked in Dad's stores, moving boxes - I remember quite well one stockroom that was upstairs - sweeping floors, laying tile. I also had paper routes. ~ S. Robson Walton

I was always obsessed with being famous. I had Marilyn Monroe paper dolls as a child, and I was always obsessed with her. I've just been really driven in that direction, and none of my friends were. So, I don't know what put that bug in me at a young age. ~ Holly Madison

The thing about the basics is they don't really change - it's the details and the proportions that change. The shirt may be cut slimmer or looser, the suit might be darker or lighter, the sneakers might not have laces, but you're still talking about shirts and suits and sneakers. ~ John Varvatos

Or can it be thought that they who heap up an useless mass of wealth, not for any use that it is to bring them, but merely to please themselves with the contemplation of it, enjoy any true pleasure in it? The delight they find is only a false shadow of joy. Those are no better whose error is somewhat different from the former, and who hide it, out of their fear of losing it; for what other name can fit the hiding it in the earth, or rather the restoring to it again, it being thus cut off from being useful, either to its owner or to the rest of mankind? And yet the owner having hid it carefully, is glad, because he thinks he is now sure of it. It if should be stole, the owner, though he might live perhaps ten years after the theft, of which he knew nothing, would find no difference between his having or losing it; for both ways it was equally useless to him. ~ Thomas More

It was his fault.She could put the blame for this entirely on Brian Donnelly's shoudlers.If he hadn't been so insufferable,if he hadn't been there being insufferable when Chad had called, she wouldn't have agreed to go out to dinner.And she wouldn't have spent nearly four hours being bored brainless when she could've been doing something more useful.
Like watching paint dry.
There was nothing wrong with Chad, really.If you only had,say,half a brain, no real interest outside of the cut of this year's designer jacket and were thrilled by a rip-roaring debate over the proper way to serve a triple latte,he was the perfect companion.
Unfortunately,she didn't gualify on any of those levels.
Right now he was droning on about the painting he'd bought at a recent art show. No,not the painting,Keeley thought wearily. A discussion of the painting,of art,might have been the medical miracle that prevented her from slipping into a coma.But Chad was discoursing-no other word for it-on The Investment.
He had the windows up and the air conditioning clasting as they drove. It was a perfectly beautiful night, she mused, but putting the windows down meant Chad's hair would be mussed. Couldn't have that.
At least she didn't have to attempt conversation. Chad preferred monologues.
What he wanted was an attractive companion of the right family and tax bracket who dressed well and would sit quietly while he pontificated on the narrow areas of his interest.
K ~ Nora Roberts

I started off like everyone else does, slogging but having a compulsion to put words on paper. I didn't write or read horror or fantasy, other than children's fantasy, until I was in my teens. ~ Laurell K. Hamilton

Burrich the Stablemaster, the man who raised me, once warned me, "When you cut pieces from the truth to avoid sounding like a fool, you end up sounding like a moron instead." I ~ Robin Hobb

Quentin Tarantino is interested in watching somebody's ear getting cut off; David Lynch is interested in the ear. ~ David Foster Wallace

I don't cut deep-I don't want to kill the tree. I carve her name carefully on the trunk, thinking, as I always do, of when I held her hand in mine to teach her to write. ~ Ally Condie

In recent years I had begun to be interested in fashion, to educate my taste under Adele's guidance, and now I enjoyed dressing up. But sometimes - especially when I had dressed not only to make a good impression in general, but for a man - preparing myself (this was the word) seemed to me to have something ridiculous about it. All that struggle, all that time spent camouflaging myself when I could be doing something else. The colors that suited me, the ones that didn't, the styles that made me look thinner, those that made me fatter, the cut that flattered me, the one that didn't. A lengthy, costly preparation. Reducing myself to a table set for the sexual appetite of the male, to a well-cooked dish to make his mouth water. ~ Elena Ferrante