Shell Shock Quotes

When I think back, I get mad at what they did to those poor men. Ernie must have had PTSD - they called it shell shock - and the doctors told him to keep it all bottled up inside. They didn't know any better, but it was like treating syphilis with candy bars. ~ Anita Diamant

Shell shock, they said in the First World War. Battle fatigue, in the Second. It's what happens when you live through things you shouldn't have been able to live through and can't reconcile that knowledge with the fact that you did. ~ Diana Gabaldon

In World War One, they called it shell shock. Second time around, they called it battle fatigue. After 'Nam, it was post-traumatic stress disorder. ~ Jan Karon

Screaming Meemies: This is partly onomatopoeic, partly rhyming in origin. The term is first recorded in 1927 with the meaning drunkenness, but sources suggest it dates from World War I, when it referred to a certain kind of German artillery shell that made a screaming sound, approximating meem or meemie. Soldiers, hearing too many of those artillery shells, experienced shell shock, and were said to have the screaming meemies. The term later evolved to refer to drunkenness, becoming synonymous with delirium tremens (the DTs or acute alcohol withdrawal). ~ Shannon Power

I'm never going to get used to hearing a woman talk like that."
"Shocking, is it?"
"Hard to shock an old sailor," he said. "But I'd love to see you try."
"Come upstairs," she said. "We'll see what I can do. ~ Tiffany Reisz

I jerked the blankets right back off her, and there she was with her nightdress up around her neck. It was a shock to me that, her starting to look like a woman."
[Jimmy about Molly] ~ Ian Cross

You do a clean show and it's over and the audience have enjoyed themselves and you've enjoyed yourself, and you haven't had to resort to shock. ~ Bob Newhart

I'm trained as an architect; writing is like architecture. In buildings, there are design motifs that occur again and again, that repeat
patterns, curves. These motifs help us feel comfortable in a physical space. And the same works in writing, I've found. For me, the way words, punctuation and paragraphs fall on the page is important as well
the graphic design of the language. That was why the words and thoughts of Estha and Rahel, the twins, were so playful on the page ... I was being creative with their design. Words were broken apart, and then sometimes fused together. "Later" became "Lay. Ter." "An owl" became "A Nowl." "Sour metal smell" became "sourmetal smell."
Repetition I love, and used because it made me feel safe. Repeated words and phrases have a rocking feeling, like a lullaby. They help take away the shock of the plot
death, lives destroyed or the horror of the settings
a crazy, chaotic, emotional house, the sinister movie theater. ~ Arundhati Roy

He bent his head and brushed my lips with his. His hair spilled against my forehead, sleek and startling. Shock held me immobile, shock - and something else. Part of me wanted to lean into him. ~ Ann Aguirre

If our education had included training to bear unpleasantness and to let the first shock pass until we could think more calmly, many an unbearable situation would become manageable, and many a nervous illness avoided. There is proverb expressing this. It says, trouble is a tunnel thorough which we pass and not a brick wall against which we must break our head. ~ Claire Weekes

She thought of him sprawled in the armchair in the downstairs study, calmly demolishing pastry after pastry while Aubrey looked at him in shock. Or what about that god-awful dinner? A variety of people looked daggers at him and tried several times to deliver a direct verbal cut, while he plowed through alarming amounts of beautifully prepared food with evident enjoyment for the cuisine and a monumental indifference for anybody else's opinion. ~ Thea Harrison

We're a family in shock, still reeling. Mother was the songbird, the smile, the spirit of our house. In her absence, none of us knew how to fill the void. Father tries, but after two minutes of small talk, out comes his pocket watch, and off he goes, mumbling, leaving the conversation half done. ~ Michael Ben Zehabe

The frontispiece featured a brochure from a Parisian brothel of the belle époque. It came as a profound shock when I realised that some of the sexual specialities offered by 'Mademoiselle Hortense' were completely unknown to me. I had no idea what a 'voyage through the yellow land' or a 'Russian imperial soap' could possibly mean. Certain sexual practices had vanished from human memory, in one century – not unlike certain forms of skilled labour, such as cobbling or bell-ringing. How could anyone argue that Europe wasn't in decline? ~ Michel Houellebecq

The next major explosion is going to be when genetics and computers come together. I'm talking about an organic computer - about biological substances that can function like a semiconductor. ~ Alvin Toffler

Ironic, isn't it?"
"What?"
"Here I am, trying to survive WITH you, when before my whole plan was just trying to SURVIVE YOU."
"I'm not sure what that means. And I wish you'd stop talking in puzzles and just say normal things, because I've had a big shock. This morning I was looking at a YouTube video of a hamster eating a tiny burrito and now I'm floating on this stupid raft and my friends are dead so just keep that in mind. ~ Kathy Hepinstall

His body tensed as his gut was struck with a frozen bullet of shock. He couldn't breathe. ~ Sidney Knight

And somehow, against all reason, we were kissing. I closed my eyes, and the
world around me faded. The noise, the smoke . . . it was gone. All that mattered
was the taste of his mouth, a mix of cloves and mints. There was a fierceness in his kiss, a desperation . . . and I answered, just as hungry for him. I didn't stop
him when he pulled me closer, so that I almost sat on his lap. I'd never been
wrapped around someone's body like that, and I was shocked at how eagerly
mine responded. His arm went around my waist, pulling me onto him further,
and his other hand slid up the back of my neck, getting entangled in my hair.
Amazingly, the wig stayed on. He took his lips away from my mouth, gently
trailing kisses down to my neck. I tipped my head back, gasping when the
intensity returned to his mouth. There was an animalistic quality that sent shock
waves through the rest of my body. Some Alchemist voice warned me that this
was exactly how a vampire would feed, but I had no fear. Adrian wouldn't hurt
me, and I needed to know just how hard he could kiss me and -
"Oh my God!"
Adrian and I jerked apart as though someone had thrown cold water on us,
though our legs stayed entangled. ~ Richelle Mead

shouldn't have let you run off like that. I was a little in shock." "Oh ~ Tarryn Fisher

They were suspended in time, in a peaceful moment together, with no threats or worries. In that moment, their hearts were full and near explosion. ~ Chelsie Shock

Children's literature is considerably more functional than a good portion of adult literature. If I were cynical, I might say: Children's books are written to be read; adult books are written to be talked about at cocktail parties.
There may be more truth that cynicism in that statement. My impression is that many adult books are written only to shock the reader (a short term goal, since shock quickly turns into boredom) or as calisthenics for the author's ego.
On the other hand, children's literature seems an area where books function as they were meant to; where they amaze, delight, and move our emotions. We can respect and admire any number of current adult books, but I find it hard to love them. ~ Lloyd Alexander

She's better off without you." Livingston narrowed his eyes. "I see which way the land lies. If I didn't trust Miss Hamilton's superior values and morals - " Nick's fist snaked out, aiming for the banker's nose. Livingston barely had time to turn his head before Nick's knuckles connected with the man's cheek, sending him stumbling back against the wall. The seascape crashed to the ground. With shock and disbelief in his eyes, Livingston slid to the floor, cradling the rapidly forming red mark on his face. Nick shook his head in disgust. Pity he hadn't broken the man's nose. ~ Debra Holland

Him like a mild electric shock. No woman outside his family had touched him for two years. ~ Ken Follett

Culture shock is often felt sharply at the borders between countries, but sometimes it doesn't hit fully until you've been in a place for a long time. ~ Henri Cartier-Bresson

I've been all over the place in all kinds of living situations. Due to the fact that my mind is my own worst enemy. In a way I am perpetually and permanently in a state of rehabilitation m in an attempt to rehabilitate from the shock of being born.Some people are too sensitive to withstand that. ~ Heather O'Neill

I fail to see the issue that will shock the people of this great country of ours into some decisive action. ~ Graham Nash

Sometimes we have to think of the worst so we can figure out how to pick up the pieces and move on. Don't let life slap you with a cold shock; consider all the negative outcomes so you can live a more positive life. You'll make wiser choices and not dwell on all the perils that can befall you. - William ~ Dannika Dark

I'm pretty good with knives. I'm so good, in fact, that I could sever your testicles with one hand and slice open your throat with the other, and you'd go into shock so fast you'd die without ever knowing you'd spilled a fucking drop of blood. ~ Rachel Vincent

Really, we don't relate our Atlanta setup to here. I feel like the shock [absorber] package will be different and the springs will certainly be different than Atlanta. ~ Mark Martin

And if that's all he's looking for then we'll set fire to his balls."
"What?" Storm's face twists in a mixture of shock and amusement.
I shrug. "What can I say, Storm? I'm into some weird shit. ~ K.A. Tucker

Eve woke, violently aroused. It was Roarke's hands on her. She knew their texture, their rhythm. Her heart tripped against her ribs, then bounded into her throat as his mouth covered hers. His was greedy, hot, giving her no choice, really no choice at all but to respond in kind. Even as she fumbled for him, those long, clever fingers pierced her, diving into her so that she bowed up into the frenzy of orgasm. His mouth on her breast, sucking, teeth scraping. His elegant hands relentless so that her cries came out in whimpers of shock and gratitude. Another staggering climax to layer thick over the first. Her hands sought purchase in the tangled sheets, but nothing could anchor her. As she flew up again, she gripped him, nails scraping down his back, up to grab handfuls of his hair.

"God!" It was the single coherent word she managed as he plunged into her, so hard, so deep she was amazed she didn't die from the pleasure of it. Her body bucked helplessly, frantically, continued to shudder even after he'd collapsed on her. He let out a long, satisfied sigh and lazily nuzzled her ear. "Sorry to wake you. ~ J.D. Robb

I consider a tree.

I can look on it as a picture: stiff column in a shock of light, or splash of green shot with the delicate blue and silver of the background.

I can perceive it as movement: flowing veins on clinging, pressing pith, suck of the roots, breathing of the leaves, ceaseless commerce with earth and air - and the obscure growth itself.

I can classify it in a species and study it as a type in its structure and mode of life.

I can subdue its actual presence and form so sternly that I recognise it only as an expression of law - of the laws in accordance with which a constant opposition of forces is continually adjusted, or of those in accordance with which the component substances mingle and separate.

I can dissipate it and perpetuate it in number, in pure numerical relation.

In all this the tree remains my object, occupies space and time, and has its nature and constitution.

It can, however, also come about, if I have both will and grace, that in considering the tree I become bound up in relation to it. The tree is now no longer It. I have been seized by the power of exclusiveness.

To effect this it is not necessary for me to give up any of the ways in which I consider the tree. There is nothing from which I would have to turn my eyes away in order to see, and no knowledge that I would have to forget. Rather is everything, picture and movement, species and type, law and number, ~ Martin Buber

I feel shock splinter through him, his body going rigid. Then he relaxes, melting into me, stepping forward until I am caught between him and the wall, the torch crackling beside me. His hands slide down my back, over my hips and thighs, leaving a trail of fire. His heart beats fast enough for the both of us, its thunderous pulse echoing through me.
I bury my hands in his dark hair, fingers knotting around those thick locks. Desire pulls at my stomach, and I lean into him, lifting one leg and wrapping it around his waist. He lifts me, and my other leg coils around him, my skirts sliding up my thighs, my back pressed against the column.
His lips are soft and warm and gentle, underlined with barely restrained urgency. I cannot get enough of him. I pull his kurta over his head and let it fall on the floor. I press my hands against his bared chest, feel his heart against my palm, his lungs rising and falling. His shoulder is knotted with the scar from the arrow he took for me. He kisses me again, this time more strongly, and I run my hands down his jaw and neck, over his shoulders, the taut muscles of his back.
He turns, without letting me go or breaking our kiss, and we tumble onto the soft divan. Aladdin holds himself over me, his abdomen clenched and his hair hanging across his forehead. His lips wander downward, to my chin, to the curve of my jaw, to my neck.
My hands are ravenous, exploring the planes and angles of his body. His fingers find mine, and our ~ Jessica Khoury

You experience other cultures to give you a kind of shock that makes you look at your own culture. You appreciate it more as a result of being out of it, but you also realise there are some things lacking in your culture. ~ Mem Fox

I pushed passed him. He grabbed my hand and swung me back towards him. Then he pushed me against the wall and ... he kissed me.
He ran his thumb along my jawline and down my throat, hips pinning me to the wall. He kissed me slowly and with intensity, and once I got over the mind-numbing shock and comprehended what was actually happening, it was incredible. I had never been kissed like that before. We melted together. Every movement of mine was somehow perfectly mirrored by his. My heart was pounding so hard I knew he must be able to feel it and I was sure my legs were giving way, but he held me up, pushed me harder against the wall.
I grabbed a handful of his hair, remembering all the times I'd dreamed of doing it. I let my hand drift down his back and pulled him even closer to me. It all happened so quickly. I heard him make a low kind of growl and lean into me. His hand slid down my leg behind my knee, drawing it to him. I moaned and felt him tense. ~ Jessica Shirvington

I saw a ghost when I was staying at Dartington Hall in Devon in the 1960s. I think there are many different kinds of entities, some are scary and some aren't, it depends on the state of mind you're in when you are confronted. I found that quite scary because it appeared when I was asleep, so it was quite a shock, but the other ones I've encountered, I didn't find scary. I have a lot more understanding of them. ~ Martin Shaw

It is a harsh world, indescribably cruel. It is a gentle world, unbelievably beautiful. It is a world that can make us bitter, hateful, rabid, destroyers of joy. It is a world that can draw forth tenderness from us, as we lean towards one another over broken gates. It is a world of monsters and saints, a mutilated world, but it is the only one we have been given. We should let it shock us not into hatred or anxiety, but into unconditional love. ~ Richard Holloway