Rumble Quotes

The last I knew you were going to a party. just a few friends at the McEvoys' you told me. The science club, you told me. What happened? You got into a fight about the theory of relativity? Did creationists crash the party and start a rumble? ~ Tami Hoag

And then a low and powerful sound rumbles thru the sky, like some giant, deep horn.
A sound God would make when he wanted yer attenshun. ~ Patrick Ness

There was a profound silence, abruptly broken by an enormously loud rumble from George's stomach. Plaster didn't actually fall from the ceiling, but it was close. ~ Jonathan Stroud

Reaching a hand up she touched her lips, "You…You kissed me," she breathed.
His chocolate brown eyes seemed to melt into amber gold as he answered, "Yes…and you kissed me back," his slow rumble sent shivers of excitement through her. ~ Katie Cody

Authenticity always and absolutely carries a demand and duty: you must speak out, to the best of your ability, and shake the spiritual tree, and shine your headlights into the eyes of the complacent. You must let that radical realization rumble through your veins and rattle those around you. ~ Ken Wilber

I also knew that the deep rumble rolling through us was only nerves, a sensitivity to imagined repercussion, as if a sound were built into revenge. ~ Nathan Englander

In the distance we could hear one of the dogs barking at a fish, and the high whine and low rumble of the glacier, and way off, the sound of our mother calling. ~ Susan Barnes

The look on his face is intense, his eyes a startlingly vivid blue. Know that you have my heart, he signs to me, and then presses his body against mine, shoving me even further against the rocks. What the heck - Then, I feel a purring. It's not my khui; it's doing the same low rumble it always does, and this one feels bigger. I can't peer over Rokan's shoulders, because he's got me shoved hard against the cliff wall, his arms a protective cage over my head. He's gazing down at me, unblinking, and there's such an intense look on his face that it nearly takes my breath away. The purring continues and I realize it's coming from the ground - and the cliff wall behind me. Oh God. Earthquake? I peer over Rokan's arms just in time to see a sheet of snow and ice cascading over the lip of the cliff. An avalanche. I scream as the world goes dark and the world shakes around us. Rokan's body jolts over mine, but he never moves. The moment seems to last forever, and it feels like the world is collapsing. I cling to the front of his tunic, terrified. All I can think is that he didn't like the weather. He didn't like how today felt. I should have listened. He knew. Somehow, he knew, and he pushed me out of the way before anything bad would happen. ~ Ruby Dixon

Logan glanced at the clock on the cooker: nearly five minutes fast. The room was bathed in the pale orange glow of the overcast sky, the back garden a jungle of silhouettes and shadows through the window. He filled the kettle, then poured half of it out, before sticking it on to boil. The growing rumble drowned out the babble on his Airwave handset as DI Bell got his firearms team into place. ~ Stuart MacBride

So I said, "Hey, Joe," and hoped it was a start. He was startled. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. He made a growling noise deep in his chest, a low rumble that made my skin itch. It was pleased, that sound, like even just me saying his name was enough to make him happy. For all I knew, it was. It cut off as quickly as it started. He looked faintly embarrassed. I scuffed my foot in the dirt, waiting. He said, "Hey, Ox." He cleared his throat and looked down. "Hi." It was weird, that disconnect between the boy I'd known and the man before me. His voice was deeper and he was bigger than he'd ever been. He radiated power that had never been there before. It fit him well. I remembered that day that I'd really seen him for the first time, wearing those running shorts and little else. I pushed those thoughts away. I didn't want him sniffing me out. Not yet. Because attraction wasn't the problem right now. Especially not right now. I ~ T.J. Klune

Along with Batman v. Superman and Godzilla vs. Kong, I suppose we'll get Frankenstein vs. Dracula, and perhaps Transformers vs. G.I. Joe in the HasbroVerse, and Warcraft vs. Angry Birds in the GameVerse - not to be confused with the BoardgameVerse of Battleship vs. Risk and Chutes and Ladders vs. Candy Land.

And eventually all of these shared universes will collide with all of the others, including Alien vs. Predator and Freddy vs. Jason, in a Brobdingnagian rumble pitting Jedi against Pirates of the Caribbean, Terminators against Borg, and Muppets against Smurfs, world without end. Even if for some inexplicable reason that doesn't happen, the LegoVerse will make it happen ~ Steven D. Greydanus

She jumped. "You walk like a cat!"
"I am a cat, sweetheart." He wanted to tease her again, so he let a low growl rumble up from his chest. "See?"
Streaks of vibrant color stained her cheeks once more. But she didn't back down. "Are you planning to move?"
"No." He drew in a deep breath, fighting the urge to nuzzle at her throat. "You smell good. Can I taste you?" It was a half-serious question. "Just a little?"
"Mr. Quinn!" She took a step around him and headed off.
But he'd already caught the tart bite of arousal in her scent. Satisfied, he followed, on his best behavior now. It wouldn't do to scare Annie away. Not when he planned to keep her. ~ Nalini Singh

She was only a few yards from the door. If she lunged, she could be safely inside with solid metal between her and the bear. But she had called to him, and he had come. The tranquilizer dart that she had shot on the sea ice now lay in front of her. Impossibly, inexplicably, the bear had brought it back to her. She felt light-headed, and she knew she was shaking. She raised her eyes to look at the bear.
He was a mass of shadows at the edge of the station floodlights. She could make out the shape of his muzzle and the hunch of his shoulders. "Cassandra Dasent," he said. His voice was a soft rumble.
She felt as if her heart had stopped beating. ~ Sarah Beth Durst

You stirred things up here." he finally said. "Why?"
"I'm not the one who-"
"You've angered the Sanguinati, and that's not going to help us right now."
"You don't know what's been going on here,' Elliot snapped. "what that monkey-fuck female has done."
"She's not a monkey-fuck, and she is not prey," Simon said, his voice a low, threatening rumble. "She is Meg."
"You don't know what she's done!"
"She gets mail and deliveries to the complexes on a regular basis. She has a routine with the deliverymen, so we get the merchandise we bought. And she got Sam out of the damn cage!"
"She put a him on a leash, Simon. On a leash!"
"It's not a leash," a young, scratchy voice shouted. Of tried to shout. "It's a safety line. Adventure buddies use a safety line so they can help each other."
Elliot stared, frozen. Simon turned, barely breathing. ~ Anne Bishop

To live fully is to live with an awareness of the rumble of terror that underlies everything. ~ Ernest Becker

Griffin leans closer, his voice dropping to a low, suggestive rumble only I can hear. "There are things I could boast about, but I'd rather show than tell. ~ Amanda Bouchet

You know," a low voice drawls as a warm hand squeezes my shoulder. "There's time to feed the kitty before we get dressed for the big day." He's so near that parts of me tingle even in my outrage. "Blake," I say, my voice almost a whisper. "Yes," he breathes beside my ear. "I don't have a cat." He lets out a sexy rumble, his thumb trailing down my arm. And it's then that I realize feed the kitty means… "We aren't feeding the kitty or hiding the salami or anything else you can think of to call it. We're just not. There will be no repeats this weekend." He reaches beneath my wet hair and cups the back of my head, his long fingers trailing across my skull. Goosebumps break out all over my body. "Never say never, J-Babe. ~ Sarina Bowen

I. Fucking. Want. You," I say, my voice a deep rumble in my throat. "If I'd found you first instead of Ronin, you'd be mine right now. And I'd never let you go. ~ J.A. Huss

It reminds me of a string of wet sponges; it reminds me of tattered washing on the line; it reminds me of stale bean soup, of college yells, of dogs barking idiotically through endless nights. It is so bad that a sort of grandeur creeps into it. It drags itself up out of the dark abyss of pish and crawls insanely up the topmost pinnacle of posh. It is rumble and bumble. It is flap and doodle. It is balder and dash. ~ H.L. Mencken

Before you leave, you may ask of me one thing you need that I can find within the walls of my estate." he said with a low rumble. ~ M.J. Haag

Guess life is really a road marked by crossroads. It's not the long and winding stretches that will hurt you the most. It's the crossroads. You make a bad choice and it's a tumble and a rumble before you get back on your feet again. But you'll get back on your feet. You'll find yourself. And then you'll be off to your next adventure (crossroads, I mean). In my case, I always had a safety net - my faith in God. But then, I'm more like the millions of simple folk who travel this world. ~ Psyche Roxas-Mendoza

When the striped pole slips by I slide low in the saddle and give Kali room to go. One moment she's bottled up, and the next she's a stream of copper, her chestnut mane smacking me hard in the face while her strides lengthen and everything becomes a droning rumble of hooves and wind. ~ Mara Dabrishus

You must not let me out,' it warned him gently, as it saw his eyes rest on the lock.
'If you release me now that I know my nature, I could not help but unmake the enchantment of the mirrors. You see, they are tame now and they show only what people want and need to see in them. The wildness of them is bound up in my form, though I did not know it for a long time. If I were uncaged, I could not help but tear at the enchantment until I was unnamed. Then I would fly into all of the mirrors and windows and into shining footpaths after rain. The mirrors would become wild and they would be absolutely, utterly truthful. Everything would be seen for what it truly was. My laughter would greet every lie and every pretense. It would rumble like a volcano under the smooth surface of everything. You can imagine the chaos it would cause here, for those who dwell in the greylands do so because the mirrors are tamed. If I were free, people would come to be afraid of them. They would cease to believe in their reflections and eventually they would no longer believe in themselves. No, laughter must remain caged here. ~ Isobelle Carmody

The discipline this guy has amazes me. "You're big into delayed gratification."

"Waiting can be worth it."

"How would you know?"

He laughs. He throws his head back, and the deep rumble starts in his body and ends in mine. Fuck me. He's gorgeous, talented and has a goddamned sense of humor.

Life is so unfair. ~ Jen Frederick

Even over the rumble of the quakes, I thought I heard Jack rasp, "Bebe?" Then louder: "Doan you do this!"
I gasped out, "T-take care of him, Jack-" Death yanked me to him, sweeping me up in his arms. I fought him with any strength I had left, hyperventilating, dulling my claws on his armor, not even scratching it. Death just laughed.
"Evie! EVIE!" Jack's bellows grew fainter as the light brightened. "I'm comin' for you! You know I will! ~ Kresley Cole

But I can stop on any corner at the intersection of two busy streets, and before me are thousands of lives headed in all four directions, uptown downtown east and west, on foot, on bikes, on in-line skates, in buses, strollers, cars, trucks, with the subway rumble underneath my feet ... and how can I not know I am momentarily part of the most spectacular phenomenon in the unnatural world? ... The city may begin from a marketplace, a trading post, the confluence of waters, but it secretly depends on the human need to walk among strangers. ~ E.L. Doctorow

The reckoning is how we walk into our story; the rumble is where we own it. The goal of the rumble is to get honest about the stories we're making up about our struggles, to revisit, challenge, and reality-check these narratives. ~ Brene Brown

But we can't be everything we read. ~ S.E. Hinton

The air is cold and dusk has descended. In the distance lightning flickers and a far away rumble of thunder awakens my thoughts and makes me remember. ~ Donna Lynn Hope

Did you know that in mathematics they determined what was real by what was not imaginary?" Finn's voice was just a soft rumble beneath my fingertips that had found his lips
"What?"
"When mathematicians came up with imaginary numbers, accepted them, defined them, they had to come up with a name for everything that wasn't imaginary. Everything that wasn't an imaginary number from that point on became a 'real' number."
What's an imaginary number?"
"The square root of negative one is an imaginary number."
"Is that all?"
"Any number that was once the square root of a negative number becomes an imaginary number. Square root of -4 becomes 2i, square root of -100 becomes 10i."
"Is infinity an imaginary number?"
"No."
"Is it a real number?"
"No. It isn't a number at all. It's a concept of endlessness, unreachableness.
"I knew it. See? You are just a figment of my imagination. ~ Amy Harmon

My dream is to leave this business on my own terms, and if it were my terms, I would love to do the Royal Rumble. I would love to do Wrestle Mania in New Orleans, because I had so many matches there over the years working for Mid-South. I was in the ring with Muhammad Ali in the Superdome. To close it there would be great. ~ Jake Roberts

The rumble of a subway train,
the rattle of the taxis. ~ Al Dubin

Until one morning, one of the coldest mornings of the year, when I came in with the book cart and found Jean Hollis Clark, a fellow librarian, standing dead still in the middle of the staff room.
"I heard a noise from the drop box," Jean said.
"What kind of noise?"
"I think it's an animal."
"A what?"
"An animal," Jean said. "I think there's an animal in the drop box."
That was when I heard it, a low rumble from under the metal cover. It didn't sound like an animal. It sounded like an old man clearing his throat.
Gurr-gug-gug. Gurr-gug-gug.
But the opening at the top of the chute was only a few inches wide, so that would be quite a squeeze for an old man. It had to be an animal. But what kind? I got down on my knees, reached over the lid, and hoped for a chipmunk.
What I got instead was a blast of freezing air. The night before, the temperature had reached minus fifteen degrees, and that didn't take into account the wind, which cut under your coat and squeezed your bones. And on that night, of all nights, someone had jammed a book into return slot, wedging it open. It was as cold in the box as it was outside, maybe colder, since the box was lined with metal. It was the kind of cold that made it almost painful to breathe.
I was still catching my breath, in fact, when I saw the kitten huddled in the front left corner of the box. It was tucked up in a little space underneath a book, so all I could see at first was its head. It loo ~ Vicki Myron

All this time, I've been thinking about happy endings, how destiny is set and maybe this is all it. But then I am reminded that destiny can change; as often as the mountains rumble and sky splits into color, your happy ending could always be right around the corner. ~ Courtney Peppernell

He gazed at me with something that felt like wonder and said, his voice a quiet rumble, "I don't think I'll keep score with you. ~ Penny Reid

People were a little leery when I was doing the press for my last album 'Rumble Doll,' yes. It's always that thing that this is a dilettante or a pet project. ~ Patti Scialfa

And therefore, all of those for whom authentic transformation has deeply unseated their souls must, I believe, wrestle with the profound moral obligation to shout form the heart - perhaps quietly and gently, with tears of reluctance; perhaps with fierce fire and angry wisdom; perhaps with slow and careful analysis; perhaps by unshakable public example - but authentically always and absolutely carries a a demand and duty: you must speak out, to the best of your ability, and shake the spiritual tree, and shine your headlights into the eyes of the complacent. You must let that radical realization rumble through your veins and rattle those around you.
Alas, if you fail to do so, you are betraying your own authenticity. You are hiding your true estate. You don't want to upset others because you don't want to upset your self. You are acting in bad faith, the taste of a bad infinity.

Because, you see, the alarming fact is that any realization of depth carries a terrible burden: those who are allowed to see are simultaneously saddled with the obligation to communicate that vision in no uncertain terms: that is the bargain. You were allowed to see the truth under the agreement that you would communicate it to others (that is the ultimate meaning of the bodhisattva vow). And therefore, if you have seen, you simply must speak out. Speak out with compassion, or speak out with angry wisdom, or speak out with skillful means, but speak out you must.
And this is truly a ~ Ken Wilber

He chuckled, a low, amused rumble. The girl was accustomed to his presence in Bella's bedchamber, but on previous occasions he hadn't been fully hard, his c*ck straining beneath black wool trousers. Apparently he had embarrassed her. Too bad. He was not up to the task of hiding his desires until she left the room tonight. ~ Evangeline Collins

There is a holy story that tells of a man who was fulfilled by sowing his enemy's field one night. Bjartur's story is the story of a man who sowed his enemy's field all his life, day and night. Such is the story of the most independent man in the country. Moors; more moors. From the ravine there came an eerie echoing rumble as the headstone crashed its way down, and the bitch sprang to the brink, barking wildly. ~ Halldor Laxness

The opposite of recognizing that we're feeling something is denying our emotions. The opposite of being curious is disengaging. When we deny our stories and disengage from tough emotions, they don't go away; instead, they own us, they define us. Our job is not to deny the story, but to defy the ending - to rise strong, recognize our story, and rumble with the truth until we get to a place where we think, Yes. This is what happened. This is my truth. And I will choose how this story ends. ~ Brene Brown

I closed my eyes. "Crap. I'm not ready to start Clocking again. The trip back to get Ringo was fine because I kind of know the Victorian rules. And Victorians believe in bathing." I grimaced and Archer laughed, a deep rumble in his chest. "And don't even get me started on street-dumping chamber pots. Seriously? Why even bother. Just dangle your business out the window and let fly. It's the same thing." Archer's ~ April White

You killed my father," he snorted in a basso profundo rumble. "Prepare to die!" "Inigo Montoya? Is that you? ~ Kevin Hearne

The black shape of it running from dark to dark. Then a distant low rumble. Not thunder. You could feel it under your feet. A sound without cognate and so without description. Something imponderable shifting out there in the dark. The earth itself contracting with the cold. It did not come again. What time of year? What age the child? ... The silence. The salitter drying from the earth. The mudstained shapes of flooded cities burned to the waterline. At a crossroads a ground set with dolmen stones where the spoken bones of oracles lay moldering. No sound but the wind. ~ Cormac McCarthy

Two motorcycles rumble in behind me and park in open spots. It's Pigpen and Dust. They're part of the volunteers tailing me and Violet until we're safe. ~ Katie McGarry

THE WOOKIEE SIGHED, a low rumble, and gazed at the medal in his palm. On the humans it looked substantial and solid, fit to be worn around the neck. In his hand the scale was altered, and if he brought his fingers together he could conceal it entirely. A pretty thing, hastily engraved in a stylized flower meant perhaps to recall the emblem of the Republic. At its heart a rising sun, halfway above the horizon, both symbolized the dawn of a new hope in the wake of this victory over the Galactic Empire and recalled the Death Star's destruction. ~ Greg Rucka

He gritted his teeth at the newest rumble, knowing what was happening, and looked back at Victoria. "I'll never say this again, but... wrap your arms around Gabriel, keep him close. ~ Katie Reus

To tell the truth, sir, I believe I had rather sit in the shelter for a while. The cabbage seems to have turned my inward parts to water.'
Nonsense,' said Stephen, 'it is the most wholesome cabbage I have ever come across in the whole of my career. I hope, Mr. Herapath, that you are not going to join in the silly weak womanish unphilosophical mewling and puling about the cabbage. So it is a little yellow in certain lights, so it is a little sharp, so it smells a little strange: so much the better, say I. At least that will stop the insensate Phaeacian hogs from abusing it, as they abuse the brute creation, stuffing themselves with flesh until what little brain they have is drowned in fat. A virtuous esculent! Even its boldest detractors, ready to make the most hellish declarations and to swear through a nine-inch plank that the cabbage makes them fart and rumble, cannot deny that it cured their purpurae. Let them rumble till the heavens shake and resound again; let them fart fire and brimstone, the Gomorrhans, I will not have a single case of scurvy on my hands, the sea-surgeon's shame, while there is a cabbage to be culled. ~ Patrick O'Brian

Harold Brodie is a louse and a lothario who cheats at cards and has a different girl in his rumble seat every week. That coupe of his is pos-i-tute-ly a petting palace. And he's a terrible kisser to boot."
Evie's parents stared in stunned silence.
"Or so I've heard. ~ Libba Bray

Thunder may rumble, but lightning always strikes. ~ Anthony T. Hincks

Night came on, the lamps were lighted, the tables near him found occupants, and Paris began to wear that peculiar evening look of hers which seems to say, in the flare of windows and theatre-doors, and the muffled rumble of swift-rolling carriages, that this is no world for you unless you have your pockets lined and your scruples drugged. ~ Henry James

Keep looking like you want to eat me up, moa halea, and I'll let you." His voice was a hard, rough rumble. ~ C.L. Wilson

The guns of the big events rumble through our pages, but the tiny firecrackers are constantly hissing and popping there as well; it appears that much of my life as a journalist has been devoted to sedulously setting off firecrackers. ~ Brendan Gill

Like what you see?" Prophet asked, his voice a quiet yet dangerous rumble, heavily laced with sarcasm.
Even so, Tom answered him seriously. "Yes."
"That's because you're seeing two of me. ~ S.E. Jakes

A friend of mine who works for naval intelligence said an aerial satellite revealed that 1.9 million attended the event in 1995. But if they would have had a rumble at the march the newspapers would have said that 75 million Afro-Americans were there. ~ Dick Gregory

I lean back against the velvet-cushioned seat and close my eyes to the sound of hooves pounding hard against the cobblestone streets. Their clip-clopping harmony keeping perfect tempo with the rumble of carriage wheels, affording a sound as sweet as any symphony I've ever heard.
It's the sound of escape
The sound of goodbye
A sound that's served to soothe me in the past, providing the much-needed assurance that the unwelcome inquiries and suspicions of newly alerted acquaintances would soon fade - allowing for a brief respite in a new location, before I'm on the move again.
I'm a gypsy.
A nomad.
A vagabond.
A drifter. ~ Alyson Noel

I feel like if I ever got into some sort of rumble on the street, I will actually be able to defend myself. ~ Teresa Palmer

MY LADY, WE ARE BEING HUNTED

possibility we are poisoned, possibility
there is no meat on the table, not even bait
in the trap. possibility they've already bought our parents.
possibility we'll run out of water; the salt marsh
is rising; we are followed; they've clocked our meeting
possibility this is an ambush
possibility they are downwind of us,
they've photographed the house, tattooed the children
possibility they've marked the bread with hexes
possibility the moon is theirs & netted
possibility the web of idea is upon us.
possibility we've lost this particular rumble.

who stole the sword we bedded; followed the fork
in the road where we left no footprints
who swallowed yr amber, lady, while we slept

possibility we can hide here indefinitely
possibility that we should cut & run ~ Diane Di Prima

And sometimes she would dream again of being Namakaokahai'i, her waves rolling across burled coral beds, scattering moonlight, cresting higher and higher the farther she traveled over the reef. She was a colossus of water and motion soaring toward the black crescent of 'Awahuua Bay, her soul perched on the curling lip of the wave, riding it in the only way she could now; she felt the mana, the power in her waves, felt the rumble in her ocean depths ... ~ Alan Brennert

Dominic, with the powerful aura, got under my skin before I had a chance to ward him off and now I'm screwed.

Even more now I know his taste and how hard he feels against the soft, wet parts of me.

Dominic just introduced me to the most dangerous man in New York.

Fuck. Fuck. Clarity pours over me.

Does this mean Dominic is a member of the mafia after all?

Only it wasn't only a little kiss, was it? I'm sexually frustrated and Dom is standing there with his hands in his tailored pants pockets, aroused.

The bulge is unmistakable.

"Gabriella…"

God, I'm wet too. If I rub my thighs together, I'll feel how much. He's hard, I'm wet… it's a match made in heaven.

"Gabriella…" he says again, thick and tarnished as I look him up and down.

"Yeah?"

"I said you're too far away," he murmurs, cutting his dark gaze my way. Stirring me. "Come here to me, cara." he hooks two fingers with a motion and smirks like a devil with the key to all my desires. I swear my belly bottoms out as my feet carry me forward. Unable to refuse the invisible rope he has around my waist, pulling me closer.

"Bossy aren't you?"
"I am your boss."
"I don't think you want to remind me of that."

He hums and the rumble hurtles down between my thighs.

How does he do that? Turn me on with just a noise.

"I guess you'd like it if I called you sir, wouldn' ~ V. Theia

What's the big idea?" Sabrina demanded.
"I declared war on you, remember?" Puck said.
Sabrina rolled her eyes. "Is this another one of your stupid pranks?"
Puck sniffed. "You have contaminated me with your puberty virus and you called my villainy into question."
"First of all, puberty isn't a virus," Sabrina said as she fought a tug of was with the Pegasus for her now rather damp pillow."Secondly, I'm sorry if I gave you the itty-bitty baby and boo-boo face. Do you wasnt me to give you a hug?"
Puck curled his lip in anger.
"Oh, now is the baby cranky. Perhaps we should put him down for a nap?"
"We'll see who's laughing soon enough," Puck said. "You see these flying horses?"
"Duh!"
"These horses have a very special diet," Puck said. "For the last two days they have eaten nothing but chili dogs and prune juice."
Sabrina heard a rumble coming from Puck's horse. It was so loud it drowned out the sound of its beating wings. Sabrina couldn't tell if the churn of the sound was worse for the Pegasus but it whined a bit and its eyes bulged nervously.
Puck continued. "Now, chili dogs and prune juice are a hard combination on a person's belly. It can keep a human being on the toilet for a week. Imagine what would happen if I fed chili dogs and prune juice to an eight-hundred-and-fifty-pound flying horse. Oh, wait a minute! You don't have to imagine it. I did feed chili dogs and prune juice to an eight-hundred-and-fifty-po ~ Michael Buckley

Little things.
I drive by the funeral home where he was taken several times a week, if not a day. Ordinarily, these trips mean nothing. But one time not long ago I happened to glance at the building and my mind was filled with visions of him laid out on the table, his body being prepared.
I started crying. I was still crying when I got on the freeway a short time later.
"You're gone," I whispered. "I can't believe you're gone."
I can't believe it. I can't believe he's gone.
I repeated the words over and over, until I started to hear something else above the rumble of the tires and the rush of the wind.
I'm still here. Always with you. ~ Taya Kyle

Drake growled against her mouth. Ria's body felt as if it were a flame. When Drake made that sound, she melted for him. Something about that rumble that began in his chest caressed every nerve in her body, making her want more. He pushed her shirt up and began to nip at her belly. ~ Chudney Thomas

Now that we've come up with all the obvious answers to our problem, it's time to come up with some truly ridiculous ones."
"Ridiculous?" asked Brasque.
"Yes, ridiculous. Think of something impossible, improbable or downright ridiculous and go from there."
"Like we all flap our arms and fly out of here," said Katherine.
"Exactly!" said Spider.
"How about we form a long line all the way to the mountains and pass the charges along it?" said Brasque.
"Excellent," said Spider. "Keep it coming."
"What if we each carry one charge, run back, carry another, and so on?" said Tom, getting into the swing of things.
"Lovely!" laughed Spider. "Now we're cooking."
The shower of sparks shot out of the top of the Amadragon. Joe shielded his eyes with his hand.
"Yeah, and we can all climb on the Amadragon and ride out of here," he said.
"What was that, Joe?" said Spider, suddenly dropping the jokey manner. "What's the Amadragon?"
Katherine's eyes glittered. "He means that," she said, pointing at the excavator. Everyone except Spider turned and looked. "He's talking about the giant machine, the one that keeps shooting sparks in the air."
Spider cocked his ear and listened to the rumble of the Amadragon's engine. "So Orlemann built the dragon, did he?" he said. "I'd been wondering what the noise was. If they built it to the original specifications, it should get us out of here within an hour. Let's pray that will give us enough tim ~ Carol Hughes

Darcy closed her eyes. Their lips met, and she breathed in the scent of the sun-heated tar beneath them and the salt of Imogen's skin. She felt the rumble of the traffic below traveling up through the building and into her spine, her fingertips, her tongue. ~ Scott Westerfeld

You look like a goddess," he murmured as he raked his eyes down her form.
And she melted into a puddle.
"Thank you." She tried to sound cool and sophisticated. "I much prefer wearing a gown that's not too tight."
"Except where it should be." He dropped his gaze pointedly to her bosom.
The frank admiration in his eyes made her glad that she'd let Betty guide her choice for tonight. After that other scandalous gown, she'd been reluctant to wear anything low cut, but this one did look beautiful on her, even with its décolletage. Salmon had always been a good color for her, and the satin rouleaux trim made her feel pretty and elegant.
"So it's presentable enough for dinner with your family?" she asked.
"They don't even deserve to see you in it." The low rumble of his voice made her breath catch in her throat. "I only wish that you and I could-"
"You do look lovely," said another voice. Lord Gabriel came up from behind Oliver, dressed all in black as usual. A look of pure mischief crossed his face. "Sorry I'm late, Miss Butterfield, but thank you, brother, for keeping her company until I arrived."
Oliver glared at him. "What the devil do you mean?"
"I'm taking the young lady down to dinner."
"That office should be left to her fiancé, don't you think?" Oliver bit out.
"Pretend fiancé. You have no real claim on her. And since you had her to yourself all day…" Lord Gabriel offered his arm. "Shall we, Miss Butterfield?"
Maria ~ Sabrina Jeffries

I could feel the urgency in the driver's voice as he prodded the horses to greater momentum. The rumble of thunder could be heard rolling through the mountains as foreboding dark clouds rolled overhead obscuring the starry sky. The sun vanished with one last glimmer through the pine trees, then night took possession of the earth. ~ Rhiannon Frater

You can try to steal the thunder all you want, it just reminds people I'm the lightning. You rumble in the distance. I light up the sky. ~ Dane Cook

Passing thoughts are like passing gas. They both arrive with a rumble, and the bad ones linger a little too long. ~ Maximus Freeman

Picture me kneeling between your legs," he said in a quiet rumble. "You're spread wide open for me. And my tongue is doing dirty things to you."

I was whimpering and moving my hips in an upward rhythm against his hand.

"I'm licking and sucking and you taste so fucking good."

"Oh shit," I breathed out.

"Would you like that, Rachel?" he murmured. ~ Christina Lee

Gavin finally clears his throat to fill the awkward silence. "Tavish, Lorne. Will you permit me to introduce - "

The large man - Lorne - laughs, and it's a deep rumble in his chest. "Permit me. Well, la-di-da Lord-I-Have-an-Earldom."

"Don't be an arsehole, Lorne," Tavish says. "There's a lady present, for god's sake, man." Then he looks at me. "I'm Tavish - uh, Mr. Gray." He smacks his companion in the stomach, who lets out a hearty oof. "And this impolite son of a bitch is Mr. Candish."

"If you call me Mr. Candish," Lorne says, "I won't bother responding."

"Well," Gavin says, "after that unseemly introduction . . ." He gestures to me. "This is Lady Aileana Kameron." He turns to Kiaran, rather reluctantly. "And you've already seen Kiaran, who is - "

"Leaving," Kiaran interrupts briskly. "My threshold for human tolerance is now exceeded. Send the pixie for me in the event I get to stab something."

With that, Kiaran turns on his heel and strides out of the room. Damn him. ~ Elizabeth May

All I'm saying is that there is a generation gap, and I think it revolves around this public/private thing. Our generation -- we subscribe to the old liberal doctrine of the inviolate self. I'ts the great tradition of realistic fiction, it's what novels are all about. the private life in the foreground, history a distant rumble of gunfire, somewhere offstage. In Jane Austen not even a rumble. Well, the novel is dying, and us with it. No wonder I could never get anything out of my novel-writing class at Euphoric State. It's an unnatural medium for their experience. Those kids...are living a film, not a novel. ~ David Lodge

Get this: how many Weavers does it take to screw in a light bulb?'

Kate folded her arms, her expression aloof. Acciper pensively scratched his beard, withholding his ignorance.

'One?' ventured Vivian.

Lucian's boyish face split into a grin. His body filled up with the imminent rumble of laughter.

'Two Weavers. One holds the light bulb and the other one spins reality around it. ~ Louise Blackwick

She moved suddenly, planting her hands against the kitchen floor. Throwing back her head, she screamed, and that sound was full of sorrow and heartbreak. It started as a low tremble under my feet and then increased, shaking the kitchen table and rattling the plates and cups in the cabinets. Then it was a rumble, causing the house to groan and small clouds of dust to drop from the ceiling. The table scuttled over the floor. A chair toppled over and then another. Somewhere in the living room, a window shattered. Kat was going to bring the house down. Shit. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

Westlemania is the Superbowl but each PPV is equally important. The big four (WrestleMania, Royal Rumble, SummerSlam and Survivor Series) are always important to me but the themed events have been getting better each year. Each event has its own aura around it so it's very difficult to choose. ~ John Cena

Too many of us live with an uncontrolled thought life. It is possible to learn to identify destructive thoughts and make wiser choices. Instead of letting those thoughts rumble freely about in my mind, I make the choice to harness them and direct them toward truth. ~ Lysa TerKeurst

He led them inside and began explaining the process, but there was a problem. What the boys heard was, "Over here is the clang! and if you clang! carefully you'll notice clang! bang! Can you all see it?" He was met with twenty blank stares. "Sorry Master Skeet," Hadley said. Clang! "Can we see what?" "Weren't you listening? I said this is the clang! bang! bang!" More blank stares Skeet was growing red. He turned a dangerous eye on the nearest striker, raised his voice and tried again, "The cling! bang! Oh for mercy's sake!" He whipped around and bellowed with such force that every hammer froze on its descent. "The next one of you mangy curs who uses his hammer while I'm talking is going to swallow it!" The response was impressive. Hammers were cautiously laid down. Apart from the rumble from the forges, the space was filled with a respectful silence. Aedan guessed that Skeet was known here and that he held an intimidating rank. "Now, as I said, ~ Jonathan Renshaw

His laughter was a low rumble that vibrated through her as he rolled her beneath him. "I like you like this," he murmured against her lips. "Sleepy and sweaty and disheveled. Sexiest fucking thing in the world. ~ Kit Rocha

[Comics] were viewed as the literary equivalent of bubblegum cards, meant to be poked into the spokes of a young mind where they would produce a satisfying but entirely bogus rumble of pleasure. ~ Michael Chabon

He knew everything. He knew at least a thousand Hungarian folk songs, all the words and tunes, he could handle Gypsies, give them instructions and keep them in order, check their familiarity with the flicker of an eyelid, then win their affection with a lordly, condescending, and yet fraternal-playful sidelong glance, he could call 'acsi' perfectly, shout at the first violin when he didn't strike up Csendesen, csak csendesen quietly enough and the cimbalonist when the padded sticks didn't make the steel strings thunder and rumble sufficiently in Hullamzo Balaton, he could kiss the viola player's pock-marked face, give the double bass a kick, break glasses and mirrors, drink wine, beer and marc brandy for three days on end out of tumblers, smack his lips at the site of cabbage soup and cold pork stew, take ages inspecting his cards (with relish, one eye closed), dance a quick csardas for a whole half-hour, urging and driving himself on to stamp and shout and toss his partner high in the air and catch her, light as a feather, with one arm: so, as I said, he could do everything that raises Man from his animal condition and makes him truly Man. ~ Dezso Kosztolanyi

I figured out how to get the guitar to rumble ... I put it on the middle pickup, turn the tone know down, grab it by the wang bar, and just shake it on the floor ... a Stratocaster is pretty tough - I wouldn't recommend that anybody do that with their ES-335 ~ Stevie Ray Vaughan

Much of life, fatherhood included, is the story of knowledge acquired too late: if only I'd known then what I know now, how much smarter, abler, stronger, I would have been. But nothing really prepares you for kids, for the swells of emotion that roll through your chest like the rumble of boulders tumbling downhill, nor for the all-enveloping labor of it, the sheer mulish endurance you need for the six or seven hundred discrete tasks that have to be done each and every day. Such a small person! Not much bigger than a loaf of bread at first, yet it takes so much to keep the whole enterprise going. Logistics, skills, materiel; the only way we really learn is by figuring it out as we go along, and even then it changes on us every day, so we're always improvising, which is a fancy way of saying that we're doing things we technically don't know how to do. ~ Ben Fountain

Why did his tongue cultivate such a great many glissades of truth? I don't know. However, we can see two interesting tendencies: 1. Everything in your father's life that had political blackness was filtered out. Politics were, for him, a swamp that had already drowned too many in his vicinity. Not until late in life would your father change his relationship with politics. Perhaps too late. 2. Certainly we all realized that your father's words were not totally correct. But still we were hypnotized and stimulated. Is it not bizarre how the words of imagination can rumble forth a certain comfort? And is that not reality's reason for the existence of superfluousities like horoscopes, psychologists, and authors? ~ Jonas Hassen Khemiri

Most often they speak according to their kind – the deep rumble of oak, the whisper of the birch, or the singsong chant of the alder.
The evergreen stands of pine have voices sharp as needles.
But the forest can speak as one, when it must. When the trees so choose, they think with one mind. When there is danger, especially, they speak in one voice of a thousand echoes.
I hate it when they do this. For the forest mind is always right, and will hear no argument. ~ Maryrose Wood

Good evening, daddy! Ain't you heard The boogie-woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Trilling the treble And twining the bass Into midnight ruffles Of cat-gut lace. ~ Langston Hughes

He got up and walked out to the road. The black shape of it running from dark to dark. Then the distant low rumble. Not thunder. You could feel it under your feet. A sound without cognate and so without description. Something imponderable shifting out there in the dark. The earth itself contracting with the cold. It did not come again. What time of year? What age the child? He walked out into the road and stood. The silence. The salitter drying from the earth. The mudstained shapes of flooded cities burned to the waterline. At a crossroads a ground set with dolmen stones where the spoken bones of oracles lay moldering. No sound but the wind. What will you say? A living man spoke these lines? He sharpened a quill with his small pen knife to scribe these things in sloe or lampblack? At some reckonable and entabled moment? He is coming to steal my eyes. To seal my mouth with dirt. ~ Cormac McCarthy

We sped down the highway in the sleek, black Ferrari. The throaty rumble of its engine sounded strong. The car was perfect for Ren, my hero, my champion. I'd hit such a low and let any integrity I had left molest itself into something dark, ugly, and self destructive. Ren had come to rescue me as only a hero could. ~ S.G. Holster

The sum of the past days fell upon me and the soft rumble of the engine invited sleep, but I willed myself to stay awake. It wasn't every day I was on Oprah's private jet. ~ Sam Harris

Before the Battle:
Music of whispering trees
Hushed by the broad-winged breeze
Where shaken water gleams;
And evening radiance falling
With reedy bird-notes calling.
O bear me safe through dark, you low-voiced streams.
I have no need to pray
That fear may pass away;
I scorn the growl and rumble of the fight
That summons me from cool
Silence of marsh and pool,
And yellow lilies islanded in light.
O river of stars and shadows, lead me through the night. ~ Siegfried Sassoon

When I was a teenager, the actors I was really into were Mickey Rourke and Sean Penn. I saw 'Rumble Fish' on my 16th birthday, and around the same time, it was 'Falcon and the Snowman' and 'Bad Boys' from Sean Penn. ~ Aidan Gillen

But space travel can't ease the pressure on a planet grown too crowded not even with today's ships and probably not with any future ships-because stupid people won't leave the slopes of their home volcano even when it starts to smoke and rumble. What space travel does do is drain off the best brains: those smart enough to see a catastrophe before it happens, and with the guts to pay the price-abandon home, wealth, friends, relatives, everything-and go. That's a tiny fraction of one percent. But that's enough. ~ Robert A. Heinlein

It's a date, isn't it," she realized. "Praise to the Virgin Scribe, I have a date!"
Trez laughed, the sound a rumble in his broad chest. "You'd better believe you do. And I'ma treat you like a queen. My queen." ~Trez

'The Shadows' page 205 ~ J.R. Ward

Yeah, Killer? This is Spike. Count me out for the rumble today with the rest of the Hells' Angels. I have the sniffles and my mom won't let me out of the house... ~ Bill Bernico

The Sucking [of the blood] mesmerized me; the warm struggling of the man was soothing to the tension of my hands; and there came the beating of the drum again, which was the drumbeat of his heart - only this time it beat in perfect rhythm with the drumbeat of my own heart, the two resounding in every fiber of my being, until the bet began to grow slower and slower, so that each was a soft rumble that that threatened to go on without end.I was drowsing, falling into weightlessness; ~ Anne Rice

A cat's body can sustain a lot of damage without actually dying," Lucas said, his voice as deep as the rumble of the earth itself. "You just think about that before you so much as scratch yourself without permission." Ryan gulped and nodded, still mute. ~ Rachel Vincent

She was inexorably in motion, on her way to a fate that would not include him, and though she missed him still, she was conscious that something had shifted inside her since she'd seen him on the vid. Through some unknown agency, the roar of his loss had diminished to a loud rumble, and the waves had spent much of their fury. The hold he'd left inside her was beginning to knit itself closed, and if she squinted, she could see that one day far in the distance, all that would remain of it would be a ragged seam, sensitive to the touch perhaps, but no longer tender. ~ Hillary Jordan

I wanted to walk over there. I wanted to curl up beside him, lean against him, talk to him. I wanted to know what he was thinking. I wanted to tell him everything would be okay. And I wanted him to tell me the same thing. I didn't care if it was true or not- I just wanted to say it. To hear it, to feel his arms around me, hear the rumble of his words, that deep chuckle that made me pulse race ~ Kelley Armstrong

Lovers move like lightning and wind. No contest. Theologians mumble, rumble-dumble, necessity and free will, while lover and beloved pull themselves into each other. ~ Rumi

For the rest of her life Rebecca Winter would apprehend the rumble of a truck engine in deep silence, or anything dimly like it, even the rhythmic solo roll of a kettledrum in a symphonic passage, as the soothing sound of salvation. ~ Anna Quindlen

A rumble gurgled through the space between them.
"Was that you?"
She looked down. "Was that me?"
"That noise. It sounded like a growl."
Well according to you, I am a ferocious car burglar. ~ Candis Terry

Time collapsed into a delicate dark pencil brushed against our
eyebrows, the emergent rumble of crowds gathering above our heads. We
slid into our costumes. Pirate, outlaw, futuristic rebels. Red,
purple, gold. Chains hanging from our belts, tight black trousers. We
were moved upstairs, closer to the stage. Finally, we heard the
cannon's roar: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome... Tanzar
recording artists... THE MASTER PLANETS!" The world shot forward. We
stepped into the spotlight. ~ Donald Gallinger