Running At The Beach Quotes

When I started 'Third Watch,' I knew I was going to be with the firefighters and lifting, so I was doing yoga, running, and swimming - all at the same time. I didn't have a kid then. Now I don't have time for that. I want to spend time with my son and my husband, so it's mainly just yoga now. ~ Kim Raver

A seagull was flying over a beach, when it saw a mouse. It flew down and asked the mouse: "Where are your wings?" Each animal speaks its own language, and so the mouse didn't under stand the question, but stared at the two strange, large things attached to the other creature's body. "It must have some illness," thought the mouse. The seagull noticed the mouse staring at its wings and thought: "Poor thing. It must have been attacked by monsters that left it deaf and took away its wings." Feeling sorry for the mouse, the seagull picked it up in its beak and took it for a ride in the skies. "It's probably homesick," the seagull thought while they were flying. Then, very carefully, it deposited the mouse once more on the ground. For some months afterward, the mouse was sunk in gloom; it had known the heights and seen a vast and beautiful world. However, in time, it grew accustomed to being just a mouse again and came to believe that the miracle that had occurred in its life was nothing but a dream. ~ Paulo Coelho

I almost could.
I could almost leave and never look back.
Like Mr. Bender, I could leave everything I was behind, including my name.
Leave because of Allys
and all the things she says I am.
Leave because of all the things I am afraid that I will never be again.
Leave, because maybe I'm not enough.
Leave because of Allys, Senator Harris, and half the world knows better than Father and Mother and maybe Ethan, too.
Leave.
Because the old Jenna was so absorbed in her own needs
that she said yes when she knows she should have said no,
and the shame of night
could be hidden in a new place behind a new name.
But friends are complicated.
There is the staying.
Staying because of Kara and Locke and all that they will never
be except trapped.
Staying because for them, time is running out and I am their
their last chance.
Staying for the old Jenna and all she owes Kara and Locke and maybe all the new Jenna owes them, too.
Staying because of ten percent and all I hope I might be.
Staying because of Mr. Bender's erased life and regrets.
Staying for connection.
Staying because two me
is enough to make one of me
worth nothing at all.
And staying because maybe Lily does love the new Jenna
as much as the old one, after all.
Because maybe, given time, people do change,
maybe laws change.
Maybe we all change. ~ Mary E. Pearson

What I have done up to this is nothing. I am only at the beginning of the course I must run. Do you imagine that I triumph in Italy in order to aggrandise the pack of lawyers who form the Directory, and men like Carnot and Barras? What an idea! ~ Napoleon Bonaparte

Good fences make good neighbors, and these were apparently good enough that they had not felt the need for razor wire at the top. I crested the fence, threw myself into the yard beyond, fell, rolled to my feet, and ran with the expectation of being garroted by a taut clothesline.
I heard panting, looked down, and saw a gold retriever running at my side, ears flapping. The dog glanced up at me tongue rolling, grinning, as though jazzed by the prospect of an unscheduled play session. ~ Dean Koontz

At Pebble Beach, even on your good shots, you've got to hit it to the correct side of the holes to save pars. ~ Dustin Johnson

The mystery of God's providence is a most sublime consideration. It is easy to let our reason run away with itself. It is at a loss when it attempts to search into the eternal decrees of election or the entangled mazes and labyrinths in which the divine providence walks. This knowledge is too wonderful for us. Man can be very confident that God exercises the most accurate providence over him and his affairs. Nothing comes to pass without our heavenly Father. No evil comes to pass without his permissive providence, and no good without his ordaining providence to his own ends. ~ Ezekiel Hopkins

I'm projected as an ambulance chaser, but I'm more the ambulance. People call me because they know I will come ... I have never fought a case where they didn't ask me to come. People have
this picture like I'm sitting up in bed at night with a walkie-talkie. "You hear anything? Oh, let's run! It's Virginia today!" ... Every victim calls us ... "Who put Sharpton in charge?" The
victim! ~ Al Sharpton

During that year by the railroad embankment, at the time of my father's complete disaster, distance meant for us not only some faraway lyrical splendor but also the exceedingly utilitarian idea of running away, the deliverance from fear and hunger. ~ Danilo Kis

When I was a boy, playing at the beach, I remember a game I loved, which was an omen of my future life. I would dig a channel with high sides in the sand for the sea to fill. But when the water flooded the path I created for it with such violence that it destroyed everything in its way: my castles made of pebbles, my dikes of sand. It swept away everything, destroying it all, then disappeared, leaving me with a heavy heart, yet not daring to ask for pity, since the sea had only responded to my call. It's the same with love. You call out for it, you plan its course. The wave crashes into your heart, but it's so different from how you imagined it, so bitter and icy. ~ Irene Nemirovsky

One of my earliest memories is of seeing my mother in her beach chair, reading a book under an umbrella by the water's edge while my sisters and I played beside her. Of all the life lessons she taught me, that is one of my favorites: to take time at a place I love, restore my spirit with books and the beach. ~ Luanne Rice

Doc fell in to a car convoy, moving slowly, single lane through the fog. He figured if he missed the Gordita Beach exit, he'd take the first one whose sign he could read and work his way back on surface streets. He knew that at Rosecrans, the freeway began to dogleg east, and at some point, Hawthorne Boulevard or Artesia,he'd lose the fog, unless it was spreading tonight, and settled in region wide... Maybe then it would stay this way for days, maybe he'd have to just keep driving, down past Long Beach, down through Orange County, and San Diego and across a border where nobody could
tell anymore in the fog who was Mexican, who was Anglo, who was anybody. Then again, he might run out of gas before that happened, and have to leave the caravan, and pull over on the shoulder, and wait. For whatever would happen. For a forgotten joint to
materialize in his pocket. For the CHP to come by and choose not to hassle him. For a restless blonde in a Stingray to stop and offer him a ride. For the fog to burn off, and for something else this time, somehow, to be there instead. ~ Thomas Pynchon

Patience does not mean to passively endure. It means to be farsighted enough to trust the end result of a process. What does patience mean? It means to look at the thorn and see the rose, to look at the night and see the dawn. Impatience means to be so shortsighted as to not be able to see the outcome. The lovers of God never run out of patience, for they know that time is needed for the crescent moon to become full. ~ Elif Shafak

I have two houses in California, and they're both within a couple of minutes from the beach. So, I definitely feel at home in California and by the ocean. ~ Marisa Miller

I know him, that man
walking- toward me up the crowded street
of the city, I have lived with him
seven years now, I know his fast stride,
his windy wheatfield hair, his hands thrust
deep in his jacket pockets, hands
that have known my body, touched
its softest part, caused its quick shudders
and slow releasings, I have seen his face
above my face, his mouth smiling, moaning
his eyes closed and opened, I have studied
his eyes, the brown turning gold at the centers,
I have silently watched him lying beside me
in the early morning, I know his loneliness,
like mine, human and sad,
but different, too, his private pain
and pleasure I can never enter even as he comes
closer, past trees and cars, trash and flowers,
steam rising from the manhole covers,
gutters running with rain, he lifts his head,
he sees me, we are strangers again,
and a rending music of desire and loss -
I don't know him - courses through me,
and we kiss and say, It's good to see you,
as if we haven't seen each other in years
when it was just a few hours ago,
and we are shy, then, not knowing
what to say next. ~ Susan Browne

Holy gallnipper, how long till we hit the magic trail? It's gloomier than my own funeral I here."
Camille adjusted the bag's rope and looked at Ira. "Don't even joke about that."
Since the moment they'd entered the forest, she'd felt like something was listening. Like they'd woken some sleeping creature, and now it followed them with silent cunning. The deafening chants had not returned to pierce her eardrums, but danger still felt close.
A few paces ahead of her, Oscar peeled away another cobweb, the octagonal spinning so massive Camille didn't even want to imagine the size of the spider that had created it.
"Mate, you got a stomach made of iron," Ira said.
A flash of orange and black swept in front of Camille's eyes and she felt an odd tug on her dress. She looked down and froze. A spider with a body the size of her first flexed its hairy legs on her skirt. It started to scuttle up. Her scream echoed through the forest as she swiped the spider off. It hit the marshy ground and scampered under a log. Oscar grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him.
"Did it bite you?"
She shook her head, arms and legs stiff with fear.
"I've never seen one so bloody big," Ira said, running past the log as though the spider would leap out at him. Oscar started walking again, his hand on the small of her back. She exhaled with more than one kind of relief. He was at least still concerned for her.
As they started to pick up their pace, another black cr ~ Angie Frazier

Got back and went to use the loo in Room 5 and was shocked at the state of it. Christian the producer was not well and had made a mess of it and the walls surrounding it. Even the cockroaches were running out the door. For the first time in my life I was aware that my face did a disgusted look. I decided I'd rather do it on the street than sit in there. ~ Karl Pilkington

"Where the hell are you?" he snapped when I answered.
"You're back? Good. So how was - ?"
"You're not here."
"Because I'm supposed to be waiting by the gate?"
"You know what I mean. Simon said you went to talk to Tori, but you're not on the property, so I'm really hoping you're with her."
I glanced at Tori's back, a half mile away. "Kind of."
"She took off, didn't she? And you went after her, knowing you aren't supposed to leave the property unaccompanied."
"Tori needs - "
"Tori can look after herself."
"And I can't?"
A growl. He knew better than to answer. Despite my lack of defensive superpowers, I'd gotten myself - and Tori - out of plenty of scrapes. Sometimes, knowing you don't have the skills to fight can be a bonus. With Tori, overconfidence equals lack of caution and, yes, as Derek would say, common sense.
"I'm just going to talk to her," I said. "I'll bring her home - "
"No, you'll come back. Right now. That's an order."
"Well, in that case . . . no."
A louder growl.
"Seriously?" I said. "An order? Has that ever worked?"
He grumbled something I couldn't hear and probably didn't want to.
"I'm not kidding, Chloe. Stop running, turn around, and - "
"I'll be back as soon as I catch her. 'Kay? Bye." ~ Kelley Armstrong

Are you chuckling yet? Because then along came you. A big, broad meat eater with brash blond hair and ruddy skin that burns at the beach. A bundle of appetites. A full, boisterous guffaw; a man who tells knock know jokes. Hot dogs - not even East 86th Street bratwurst but mealy, greasy big guts that terrifying pink. Baseball. Gimme caps. Puns and blockbuster movies, raw tap water and six-packs. A fearless, trusting consumer who only reads labels to make sure there are plenty of additives. A fan of the open road with a passion for his pickup who thinks bicycles are for nerds. Fucks hard and talks dirty; a private though unapologetic taste for porn. Mysteries, thrillers, and science fiction; a subscription to National Geographic. Barbecues on the Fourth of July and intentions, in the fullness of time, to take up golf. Delights in crappy snack foods of ever description: Burgles. Curlies. Cheesies. Squigglies - you're laughing - but I don't eat them - anything that looks less like food than packing material and at least six degrees of separation from the farm. Bruce Springsteen, the early albums, cranked up high with the truck window down and your hair flying. Sings along, off-key - how is it possible that I should be endeared by such a tin ear?Beach Boys. Elvis - never lose your roots, did you, loved plain old rock and roll. Bombast. Though not impossibly stodgy; I remember, you took a shine to Pearl Jam, which was exactly when Kevin went off them...(sorry). It just had to be no ~ Lionel Shriver

Guys would take runs at me even if I didn't have the puck. [On one occasion] my coach told me that the other team were told to hit number 21 as hard as they could the first period, so we switched jerseys. ~ Cammi Granato

The gunnery sergeant didn't crack a smile at the radio intercept of Faith's concept of a backup plan, an intercept that had caused Commander Bradburn, skipper of the Dallas, to literally fall out of his command chair laughing. Sands managed to watch the video stone-faced as she boarded the Voyage and began her "fifteen minutes of mayhem," set in the video to the tune of Chumbawamba's Tubthumping. He managed to keep a straight face the third time she popped back up like a jack-in-the-box after being dogpiled by zombies. He held it in during her overheard running commentary as the rest of the Marines, even the NCOs, started rolling on the deck.

It was when she got the Halligan tool stuck in a zombie's head and overbalanced that he snorted. When she unstuck her bent machete and it caught a male zombie in the groin he started laughing out loud. When the, admittedly not petite, girl stuck a boot knife in a zombie's eye then threw him over the side, tears started running down his face and he completely lost his composure as a senior NCO of the United States Marine Corps. ~ John Ringo

We need to talk."

"I'm just – Look," I said, as he took a step toward me. "I'm just going to give Cee Cee a call and maybe we'll go to the beach or something, because I really … I just need a day off."Another step toward me. Now he was right in front of me.

"Especially," I said significantly, looking up at him, "from talking. That's what I especially need a day off from. Talking."

"Fine," he said. He reached up and cupped my face in both his hands. "We don't have to talk."And that's when he kissed me. On the lips. ~ Meg Cabot

All I can tell you is I played with Johnny Mitchell. Johnny Mitchell was one of the greatest athletic talents I ever played with, but I could never trust him. When the game was on the line and he was supposed to run an out route at 10 yards, he would run an in route at eight and slide to the outside and scream to me that he was open. But it was how he got open that really made me uncomfortable in trusting him. ~ Boomer Esiason

Bellamy Plunged Into The Lake and Closed The Distance Between Them With a Few
Powerful Strokes. He'd Boasted About Teaching Himself To Swim. During His Treks to The Stream and For Once He Had'nt Been
Exaggerating.

He Disappeared Under The Water,Just Long Enough for Clarke To Feel a Flicker of Worry
then His Hand Grasped Her Wrist and She Squealed as He Spun Her Around. Expecting
Him to Splash Her in Retaliation,But Bellamy
Just Stared at Her For a Moment Before Raising a Hand and Running His Fingers Along Her Neck "No Gills Yet" He Said Softly ~ Kass Morgan

I'm the kind of person who likes to be by himself. To put a finer point on it, I'm the type of person who doesn't find it painful to be alone. I find spending an hour or two every day running alone, not speaking to anyone, as well as four or five hours alone at my desk, to be neither difficult nor boring. I've had this tendency ever since I was young, when, given a choice, I much preferred reading books on my own or concentrating on listening to music over being with someone else. I could always think of things to do by myself. ~ Haruki Murakami

One day the factory sports coach, who was very strict, pointed at four boys, including me, and ordered us to run in a race. I protested that I was weak and not fit to run, but the coach sent me for a physical examination and the doctor said that I was perfectly well. So I had to run, and when I got started I felt I wanted to win. But I only came in second. That was the way it started. ~ Emil Zatopek

Over the course of one's life, Julia, there are actions that pave the way for everything else that comes after, good or bad. Simple moments: Turning right instead of left on the street and running headlong into the man you'll marry. Choosing a ham sandwich instead of soup at the deli and choking on it. Diving into a pool of water and cracking your head on the bottom, paralyzing yourself for life. ~ Wendy Webb

I have not yet learned to live, that I can see, and I fear that I shall not very soon. I find, however, that in the long run things correspond to my original idea,
that they correspond to nothing else so much; and thus a man may really be a true prophet without any great exertion. The day is never so dark, nor the night even, but that the laws at least of light still prevail, and so may make it light in our minds if they are open to the truth. ~ Henry David Thoreau

Man ever talks, and Man ever dreams Of better days that are yet to be, After glittering goal, that distant gleams, Running and racing untiringly. The worldly may grow old and young as it will, But the Hope of man is Improvement still. Hope bears him into life in her arms, She flutters around the boy's young bloom, The soul of youth with her magic warms, Nor rests with age in the silent tomb; For ends man his weary course at the grave, There plants he Hope o'er his ashes to wave. ~ Friedrich Schiller

We usually bring her helmet with us, but we left it back in the hotel room this time."
I gasp. I also try to decide what kind of flowers I'll bring to her funeral after I strangle the life from her body. I should have stayed in Jersey, like Mom said. Shouldn't have come here with Chloe and her parents. What business do I have in Florida? We live on the Jersey Shore. If you've seen one beach, you've seen them all, right?
But noooooooo. I had to come and spend the last of my summer with Chloe, because this would be our last summer together before college, blah-blah-blah. And now she's taking revenge on me for not letting her use my ID to get a tattoo last night. But what did she expect? I'm white and she's black. I'm not even tan-white. I'm Canadian-tourist white. If the guy could mistake her for me, then he shouldn't be giving anyone a tattoo, right? I was just protecting her. Only, she doesn't realize that. I can tell by that look in her eyes-the same look she wore when she replaced my hand sanitizer with personal lubricant-that she's about to take what's left of my pride and kick it like a donkey.
"Uh, we didn't get your name. Did you get his name, Emma?" she asks, as if on cue.
"I tried, Chloe. But he wouldn't tell me, so I tackled him," I say, rolling my eyes.
The guy smirks. This almost-smile hints at how breathtaking a real one would be. The tingling flares up again, and I rub my arms. ~ Anna Banks

But I'll tell you what I do wish. Wish we could live twice, take a different path each time. That at the end of all this, when I finished serving God in the West, I could go back to that day on the beach, put a ring on Eleanor's finger instead. ~ Blake Crouch

We're running out of time, he said.
As if time were the kind of thing you could run out of, as if it were measured into bowls that were handed to us at birth and if we ate too much or too fast or right before jumping into the water then our time would be lost, wasted, already spent.
But time is beyond our finite comprehension. It's endless, it exists outside of us; we cannot run out of it or lose track of it or find a way to hold on to it. Time goes on even when we do not. ~ Tahereh Mafi

For the first time Rincewind saw the troll.
It wasn't half so bad as he had imagined.
Umm, said his imagination after a while.
It wasn't that the troll was horrifying. Instead of the rotting, betentacled monstrosity he had been expecting Rincewind found himself looking at a rather squat but not particularly ugly old man who would quite easily have passed for normal on any city street, always provided that other people on the street were used to seeing old men who were apparently composed of water and very little else. It was as if the ocean had decided to create life without going through all that tedious business of evolution, and had simply formed a part of itself into a biped and sent it walking squishily up the beach.
( ... ) How does he hold himself together, his mind screamed at him. Why doesn't he spill? ~ Terry Pratchett

To kill for murder is a punishment incomparably worse than the crime itself. Murder by legal sentence is immeasurably more terrible than murder by brigands. Anyone murdered by brigands, whose throat is cut at night in a wood, or something of that sort, must surely hope to escape till the very last minute. There have been instances when a man has still hoped for escape, running or begging for mercy after his throat was cut. But in the other case all that last hope, which makes dying ten times as easy, is taken away for certain. There is the sentence, and the whole awful torture lies in the fact that there is certainly no escape, and there is no torture in the world more terrible. ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

So who has more at stake? A young man trying to get laid with the least amount of white water before he ships off to his next assignment and has nothing but a memory of a nice month on the beach, or a family that desperately needs and wants old heartaches to disappear? ~ Roxanne St. Claire

I was always at the gymnasium every day at six o'clock after school. In the mornings I would run, looking forward to future golden gloves and Olympic tournaments. ~ Muhammad Ali

Do you love me?' I asked her. She smiled. 'Yes.' 'Do you want me to be happy?' as I asked her this I felt my heart beginning to race. 'Of course I do.' 'Will you do something for me then?' She looked away, sadness crossing her features. 'I don't know if I can anymore.' she said. 'but if you could, would you?' I cannot adequately describe the intensity of what I was feeling at that moment. Love, anger, sadness, hope, and fear, whirling together sharpened by the nervousness I was feeling. Jamie looked at me curiously and my breaths became shallower. Suddenly I knew that I'd never felt as strongly for another person as I did at that moment. As I returned her gaze, this simple realization made me wish for the millionth time that I could make all this go away. Had it been possible, I would have traded my life for hers. I wanted to tell her my thoughts, but the sound of her voice suddenly silenced the emotions inside me. 'yes' she finally said, her voice weak yet somehow still full of promise. 'I would.' Finally getting control of myself I kissed her again, then brought my hand to her face, gently running my fingers over her cheek. I marveled at the softness of her skin, the gentleness I saw in her eyes. even now she was perfect. My throat began to tighten again, but as I said, I knew what I had to do. Since I had to accept that it was not within my power to cure her, what I wanted to do was give her something that she'd wanted. It was what my heart had been telling me to do all al ~ Nicholas Sparks

My world had stopped, but the outside one kept going. On Saturday, one week after the murder, Bubba had a basketball game. He wanted to go. I wanted him to go, too.
And if he went, I was going, too. Even though I hadn't been out of the house except to go to the funeral home.
A friend picked Bubba up early so he could get there for the pregame warm-up. When it came time to leave to watch the game, I decided to run rather than drive. It was five minutes by car, and I thought it wouldn't take long to trot over.
I was wrong about that.
Four or five of the men at the house accompanied me, including my brother-in-law Jeff, who had just gone through an operation and was still recovering. I'm sure his rehab plan didn't include running alongside a half-crazy woman, but he did anyway, without a complaint or even a "Hey, slow down."
We got to the church gym just in time for the game. I felt such pure joy watching Bubba play. It was one of the very few times that whole month that I was able to completely forget my grief and feel fully myself. They were fleeting moments, but they loom large now in my memory, little islands of relief in a sea of dread.
We all walked home. The men tossed a ball back and forth with Bubba. They couldn't replace Chris, but they provided an enormous, unstated reassurance to Bubba that he would never be alone. ~ Taya Kyle

I am never happy when I finish a book. I always start feeling good, and then I get to about Page 75 and start losing momentum - and I kind of pull it together at the end, but by then I think it's just all over. It's become almost a running joke among my agent and my editor - I always say that, so they don't take me seriously anymore. ~ Sarah Dessen

I walked downstairs, toward the beach, and then through the dunes, feeling the sort of rage that comes with the realization of one's gross inadequacy, of knowing for certain that you are at fault. It was the first time I realized that as much as he was two people around us, so were we two people around him: we saw of him what we wanted, and allowed ourselves not to see anything else. We Were so ill-equipped. Most people are easy: their unhappiness are our unhappiness, their sorrows are understandable, their bouts of self-loathing are fast moving and negotiable. But his were not. We don't know how to help him because we lacked the imagination needed to diagnose the problems. But this is making excuses. ~ Hanya Yanagihara

But Charlie and I have a very special relationship and I wanted to let her know I was home. Don't worry, I'm not one of those crazy cat ladies. I just like my favorite cat to know I'm home so we can talk, have dinner together, and watch Hoarders.
I assumed she was in our master bathroom because that's where the cats like to hang out when we're not home. They record most of their "cute kitty with loofah" YouTube videos in there.
Now, in order to let her know I was home I could have walked to the bathroom or yelled for her, which is what I usually do. But for some reason in that day I did something else. We have an intercom where I can push a button and talk to someone in another room. Sometimes it's fun to use when we have company. I'll get on it from a different part of the house and whisper stuff like, "Is there anything you ever really wanted to tell God? I'm listening." Oh, we have fun.
Anyway, I got on the intercom and I said, "Charlie, I'm home! Charlie!" and I hung up and I waited for Charlie to come running. I didn't think anything of it until I looked over and Portia was staring at me.
She said, "Did you just intercom the cat?"
And I looked at her and I had no choice but to say, "Yes. I did just intercom the cat."
In my defense, I was very tired and if I wanted to walk all the way to the bathroom to find Charlie I would have had to get on my Segway, ride it to the escalator, take the escalator to the third floor, cross the champagne fou ~ Ellen DeGeneres

About five miles back I had a brush with the CHP. Not stopped or pulled over: nothing routine. I always drive properly. A bit fast, perhaps, but always with consummate skill and a natural feel for the road that even cops recognize. No cop was ever born who isn't a sucker for a finely-executed hi-speed Controlled Drift all the way around one of those cloverleaf freeway interchanges.

Few people understand the psychology of dealing with a highway traffic cop. Your normal speeder will panic and immediately pull over to the side when he sees the big red light behind him ... and then he will start apologizing, begging for mercy.

This is wrong. It arouses contempt in the cop-heart. The thing to do – when you're running along about 100 or so and you suddenly find a red-flashing CHP-tracker on your tail – what you want to do then is accelerate. Never pull over with the first siren-howl. Mash it down and make the bastard chase you at speeds up to 120 all the way to the next exit. He will follow. But he won't know what to make of your blinker-signal that says you're about to turn right.

This is to let him know you're looking for a proper place to pull off and talk ... keep signaling and hope for an off-ramp, one of those uphill side-loops with a sign saying "Max Speed 25" ... and the trick, at this point, is to suddenly leave the freeway and take him into the chute at no less than 100 miles an hour.

He will lock his brakes about the same time ~ Hunter S. Thompson