Shouts Quotes

Baseball is a game that shouts, 'Slow Down' to America. Stop tweeting, texting, blogging, watching cable news, and obsessing about polls, lost planes, and focus-group-driven politicians. ~ Mike Barnicle

You! Troll!" Sevro shouts. "I'm a terrorist warlord! Stop throwing me. You made me drop by candy! ~ Pierce Brown

Job, actually. I read it once a long time ago. It seems more frightening now though. The man who begins to doubt, who shouts out against his God, looking for a response, and who gets one. 'God gave the world to the wicked,' he says at one point, and 'Why should I bother?' at another." "It sounds interesting. But he goes on bothering?" "Yes, that's the incredible thing. ~ Ian Rankin

Addie Moore had a grandson named Jamie who was just turning six. In the early summer the trouble between his parents got worse. There were bad arguments in the kitchen and bedroom, accusations and recriminations, her tears and his shouts. They finally separated on a trial basis and she went off to California to stay with a friend, leaving Jamie with his father. He called Addie and told her what happened, that his wife had quit her job as a hairdresser and had gone out to the West Coast. ~ Kent Haruf

Life can be stressful! When the world Shouts "Chaos" God's messages of Love whisper "Seek My Peace" Encourage Children to search out God's Blessings in life! ~ Dianna Wyles

We abandon our backboards along with our decorum, racing for the stairs and the promise of freedom, however temporary it may be.

"Walk!" Mrs. Nightwing shouts. When we cannot seem to heed her advice, she bellows after us that we are savages not fit for marriage. She adds that we shall be the shame of the school and something else besides, but we are down the first flight of stairs, and her words cannot touch us. ~ Libba Bray

His months of teaching experience were now a lost age of youth and innocence. He could no longer sit in his office at Fort McNair, look out over the elm trees and the golf course, and encompass the world within "neat, geometric patterns" that fit within equally precise lectures. Policy planning was a very different responsibility, but explaining just how was "like trying to describe the mysteries of love to a person who has never experienced it."

There was, however, an analogy that might help. "I have a largish farm in Pennsylvania."...it had 235 acres, on each of which things were happening. Weekends, in theory, were days of rest. But farms defied theory:

Here a bridge is collapsing. No sooner do you start to repair it than a neighbor comes to complain about a hedge row which you haven't kept up half a mile away on the other side of the farm. At that very moment your daughter arrives to tell you that someone left the gate to the hog pasture open and the hogs are out. On the way to the hog pasture, you discover that the beagle hound is happily liquidating one of the children's pet kittens. In burying the kitten you look up and notice a whole section of the barn roof has been blown off and needs instant repair. Somebody shouts from the bathroom window that the pump has stopped working, and there's no water in the house. At that moment, a truck arrives with five tons of stone for the lane. And as you stand there hopelessly, wondering which of these crises ~ John Lewis Gaddis

Those who cling to worthless idols turn away from God's love for them. 9 But I, with shouts of grateful praise, will sacrifice to you. ~ Anonymous

This guy's walking down the street when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep he can't get out.
"A doctor passes by and the guy shouts up, 'Hey you. Can you help me out?' The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down in the hole and moves on.
"Then a priest comes along and the guy shouts up, 'Father, I'm down in this hole can you help me out?' The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole and moves on
"Then a friend walks by, 'Hey, Joe, it's me can you help me out?' And the friend jumps in the hole. Our guy says, 'Are you stupid? Now we're both down here.' The friend says, 'Yeah, but I've been down here before and I know the way out. ~ Aaron Sorkin

We live in a culture where the one who shouts the loudest gets the most attention. It's not in the vulgar, it's not in the shock that one finds art. And it's not the excessively beautiful. It's in between; it's in nuance. ~ Duane Michals

Slowly the big gates opened. Red-gold fire glow from inside silhouetted a number of figures who moved out toward the bridge, where the strengthening light picked out the drawn swords, the spears, the dark cloaks, and the helmed heads of the Renselaeus warriors. They were wearing their own colors, and battle gear. No liveries, no pretense of being mere servants. In the center of their formation were Khesot and the four others--unarmed.
There were no shouts, no trumpets, nothing but the ringing of iron-shod boots on the stones of the bridge, and the clank of ready weaponry.
Could we rescue them? I could not see Khesot's face, but in the utter stillness with which they stood, I read hopelessness.
I readied myself once again--
Then from the center of their forces stepped a single equerry, with a white scarf tied to a pole. He started up the path that we meant to descend. As he walked the light strengthened, now illuminating details. Still with that weird detachment I looked at his curly hair, the freckles on his face, his small nose. We could cut him down in moments, I thought, and then winced the thought away. We were not Galdran. I waited.
He stopped not twenty-five paces from me and said loudly, "Countess, we request a parley."
Which made it obvious they knew we were there.
Questions skittered through my mind. Had Khesot talked? How otherwise could the enemy have seen us? The only noise now was the rain, pattering softly with the magnificent ~ Sherwood Smith

Pops has always told me ignorance is the most dangerous thing in the world. Fools, he used to say, will ignore whispers until they become shouts. And by the time a whisper is a shout, it's usually too late to make a difference. ~ Scott Reintgen

Language cannot describe the scene that followed; the shouts, oaths, frantic gestures, taunts, replies, and little fights; and therefore I shall not attempt it. ~ Augustus Baldwin Longstreet

There is nothing to fear from someone who shouts. ~ Chinua Achebe

However, experience has taught us that action in the now is also necessary, always. Our children cannot dream unless they live, they cannot live unless they are nourished, and who else will feed them the real food without which their dreams will be no different from ours? 'If you want us to change the world someday, we at least have to live long enough to grow up!' shouts the child. ~ Audre Lorde

A fool shouts charge when he should retreat, A coward shouts retreat when he should charge and a wise man knows the difference. I charge. ~ Tonny K. Brown

If you're all so peaceful up there, how did you get such greedy and cruel ideas?"
The dragon was silent for a long time after this question. And at last he said: "It just came over me. I don't know why. It just came over me, listening to the battling shouts and the war-cries of the earth - I got excited, I wanted to join in. ~ Ted Hughes

A lot of us have been raised with the Bible and with movies from Hollywood to believe that God shouts down from the heavens or appears in a burning bush. It's always so dramatic and kind of scary. So that's what we all expect when we're asking God for some answers. ~ Echo Bodine

My chair rolls to a stop. his voice cut short, followed by a thump and sliding sound. My wheelchair rolls forward again. I look back and see Ragnar pushing it innocently along. Sevro isn't in the hallway behind us. I frown, wondering where he went, till he bursts out of a side passage.
"You! Troll!" Sevro shouts. "I'm a terrorist warlord! Stop throwing me. You made me drop my candy!" Sevro looks at the floor of the hallway. "Wait. Where is it? Dammit, Ragnar. Where is my peanut bar? You know how many people I had to kill to get that? Six! Six!"
Ragnar chews quietly above me, and though I'm probably mistaken, I think I see him smile. ~ Pierce Brown

Desire, both the whispers and the shouts, is the map we have been given to find the only life worth living. ~ John Eldredge

Lenny's head pounds, in time with the truck's jolts, the women's mouths, the metallic hard-on. The shouts of hate, which he knows in his immortal dove soul are really love, love, love. ~ Laura Elizabeth Woollett

Eventually, I developed my own image of teh "befriending" impulse behind my depression. Imagine that from early in my life, a friendly figure, standing a block away, was trying to get my attention by shouting my name, wanting to teach me some hard but healing truths about myself. But I-- fearful of what I might hear or arrogantly trying to live wihtout help or simply too busy with my ideas and ego and ethics to bother-- ignored teh shouts and walked away.

So this figure, still with friendly intent, came closer and shouted more loudly, but AI kept walking. Ever closer it came, close enough to tap me on the shoulder, but I walked on. Frustrated by my unresponsiveness, the figure threw stones at my back, then struck me with a stick, still wanting simply to get my attention. But despite teh pain, I kept walking away.

Over teh years, teh befriending intent of this figure never disapppeared but became obscured by the frustration cuased by my refusal to turn around. Since shouts and taps, stones and sticks had failed to do the trick, there was only one thing left: drop the nuclear bomb called depression on me, not with the intent to kill but as a last-ditch effort to get me to turn and ask the simple question, "What do you want?" When I was finally able to make the turn-- and start to absorb and act on the self-knowledge that then became available to me-- I began to get well.

The figure calling to me all those years was, I believe, what Thomas Merto ~ Parker J. Palmer

If there is a more dispiriting place in Miami than the county jail, I haven't found it . . . and I've spent a lot of time at the morgue. Approaching the jail, you can hear the anguished shouts of inmates on the upper floors, yelling through the barred windows at their wives, girlfriends, and homies below. Inside, you've got that institutional smell, as if a harsh cleanser has been laced with urine. Buzzers blare and lights flash. Steel crashes against steel as doors bang shut with the finality of a coffin closing. ~ Paul Levine

Merger Evers/John F. Kennedy/Malcolm X/Martin Luther King/Robert Kennedy/Che Guevara/Patrice Lamumba/George Jackson/Cynthia Wesley/Addie Mae Collins/Denise McNair/Carole Robertson/Viola Liuzzo
It was a decade marked by death. Violent and inevitable. Funerals became engraved on the brain, intensifying the ephemeral nature of life. For many in the South it was a decade reminiscent of earlier times, when oak trees sighed over their burdens in the wind; Spanish moss draggled blood to the ground; amen corners creaked with grief; and the thrill of being able, once again, to endure unendurable loss produced so profound an ecstasy in mourners that they strutted, without noticing their feet, along the thin backs of benches: their piercing shouts of anguish and joy never interrupted by an inglorious fall. They shared rituals for the dead to be remembered. ~ Alice Walker

You know what's funny about the people who say mean things? There's a certain part of Twitter that is literally shouting into the void, and then sometimes when the void shouts back it's like, "Whoa! I wasn't expecting that. I got called out." And then if you have a conversation, you find out they like something or they like that or they have questions about that. ~ Alfred Gough

I am not offended by your love, Mr.Bigum, but I condemn it. You have done what so many others do. People close their eyes to real life, they don't want to hear the 'no' it shouts at their wishes, they want to forget the deep chasm it shows them between their longing and what they long for. They want to realize their dreams. But life doesn't take dreams into account, there is not a single obstacle that can be dreamed away from reality, and so in the end they lie there wailing at the chasm, which has not changed but is the same as it has always been. ~ Jens Peter Jacobsen

Men who, in their hearts, really care no more for mankind than See-wise cared for the fish, lift their voices in shouts of a spurious humanity, in order to raise themselves to power, on the shoulders of an excited populace. Bloodshed, domestic violence, impracticable efforts to attain an impossible perfection, and all the evils of a civil conflict are forgotten or blindly attempted, in order to raise themselves in the arms of those they call the people. ~ James Fenimore Cooper

might almost be over. That's when it happens. There's a rumbling sound that is low at first but begins to build in volume. The tunnel trembles slightly. All the fighting stops immediately; people get to their feet, look around. Mark's doing the same, trying to find the source of the noise. He's still holding Trina's hand. "What is that?" she shouts. Mark shakes his head, keeps sweeping his gaze around the tunnel. The floor vibrates below his feet and the rumbling sound gets louder, becomes an outright roar. His eyes fall upon the stairs that lead up from the subtrans concourse just as the screams erupt - countless, countless screams and the blur of panicked movement in the crowd. A monstrous wall of filthy water is pouring down the wide steps. ~ James Dashner

The ovation roared around him. He felt nothing in particular, hardly even the embarrassment he had feared. He had to go up again - this time without Fräulein Gasteiner, and it was a little peculiar to him to hear the noise of clapping hands and the loud shouts of "Bravo". He bowed several times, turned to the door and then, just as the clapping was getting weaker, he heard a voice from slightly behind him, or to the side - he couldn't quite tell - but the words were perfectly distinct, no matter how quietly they had been said: "Poor devil!" He wanted to look around, but he felt that that would seem absurd. ~ Arthur Schnitzler

Proverbs 1:20-23 20 Wisdom shouts in the streets. She cries out in the public square. 21 She calls to the crowds along the main street, to those gathered in front of the city gate: 22 How long, you simpletons, will you insist on being simpleminded? How long will you mockers relish your mocking? How long will you fools hate knowledge? 23 Come and listen to my counsel. I'll share my heart with you and make you wise. ~ Anonymous

When the sun shouts and people abound One thinks there were the ages of stone and the age of bronze And the iron age; iron the unstable metal; Steel made of iron, unstable as his mother; the tow-ered-up cities Will be stains of rust on mounds of plaster. Roots will not pierce the heaps for a time, kind rains will cure them, Then nothing will remain of the iron age And all these people but a thigh-bone or so, a poem Stuck in the world's thought, splinters of glass In the rubbish dumps, a concrete dam far off in the mountain ... ~ Robinson Jeffers

I'm not helping any of you freaks!" she shouts. "I'm not the Witch of Wayland, you hear me? I'm sick of all you mutants pounding on my door for love spells and all the like! I told you, I don't do that backwoods modern-day, wannabe Wiccafuck stuff! You hear me? ~ J.A. Redmerski

There was too much noise. Sirens from police cars and ambulances. Shouts from the crowd on the street eighteen floors below. Traffic from other streets and all of the noises of San Francisco. Mostly, though, there were the voices. Whispering to him. Reminding him of the dark things he had done - all of the little things he had forgotten, all of the big things he had tried to forget. Mostly they reminded him of his biggest secret, a betrayal of trust and friendship long ago. He squeezed his eyes shut as if that could somehow keep the voices away. ~ Don Bassingthwaite

A guy is walking along the road in Glasgow and sees a man with a humungous great dog on the other side of the street. He goes over and says, 'Hey, Jimmy, dis yer dawg byte?'

The man says, 'Nu.'

So the guy pats the dog on the head, whereupon the dog snaps, and bites off a couple of fingers. 'Grrrwrwrwrwrrfraarrrrrgggggklle...umph.'

The guy screams 'Aaaghgee' as blood streams from his hand, and shouts, 'A tawt yer said yer dawg dusna byte.'

The man says quietly with a look of calm diffidence, 'Sna ma dawg. ~ Harry W. Kroto

This man of his, yes, this man. Now Sam accepts his own desire. "I'm a gayrod," he shouts marching through crowded plazas. "I'm in love with a man, and I want men. That's what I want. I want man, man, man! ~ Barry Webster

My family made it through Hurricane Sandy. We have water, power, and a roof, but the survivor's guilt makes me want to hide. Sneak away from the brilliance of life. It shouts at me: 'Don't enjoy anything too much; people are suffering.' I feel childlike somehow. ~ Alysia Reiner

After that, we don't talk, instead we get hammered. Shot after shot we down, chasing each one with a Little Debbie snack. Before we know it, we're hanging on to the bar counter floating around in a sugar and alcohol coma, just the way I like it.

"There's my girl," Racer shouts as he topples off his stool and onto the floor, laughing hysterically. Georgie stops in her tracks and looks over at Emma, who's standing next to her, both holding two boxes of Little Debbie snacks each.

"Emmmmmmmma," Tucker drags out, waving his glass in the air. "You brought the snacks."

"Oh, Jesus," Emma mutters as she approaches us.

I point to my mouth and say, "Feed me. Daddy needs sugar."

Racer is beside me, tangled in the pegs of his bar stool, still laughing. "Did you bring Oatmeal Pies, George? Please tell me you have the pies."

"Uh, I think you've had enough for tonight," she says, looking down at her boyfriend.

"Never!" Racer struggles to get up and finally knocks the chair over to free himself. "Fucking bitch chair, digging into me with its claws." Talking to the stool directly he says, "I'm taken, warm someone else's ass."

"He's going to propose, chair, leave him alone," Tucker announces, causing me to cringe.

"Dude, don't say it out loud." I punch Tucker in the shoulder. "Georgie is right there." All three of us turn to Georgie, who's shaking her head in humor. Hopefully.

"I'll tak ~ Meghan Quinn

He looks almost as bad as I feel. Nat calls out, "So I'm guessing by your silence that I've won this round."

I shake my head and speak into the cell, "Sorry, I gotta go. Max is here."

She purrs into the phone. "Ah, I get ya." Then sings, "Let me lick you up and down 'til you say stop."

I fight my hysterical laugh and mumble, "Yeah, like I said, I gotta go."

But she ignores me, singing louder, "Let me play with your body, baby, make you real hot."

I hang up and swallow hard. "Hi."

Max opens his mouth to speak, but Nat is not to be ignored. She shouts through the wall, "Let me do all the things you want me to do." I cover my mouth with a hand, flushing as she finishes her solo. "'Cause tonight, baby, I wanna get freaky with you." A moment later, she yells a huffy, "You shut up, ASSer! ~ Belle Aurora

So the experience I have of my everyday work environment is of a conformist, claustrophobic and repressive verbal universe, a penitential domain of reason-mongering in which hyperactivity in detail - the endlessly repeated shouts of "why," the rebuttals, calls for "evidence," qualifications and quibbles - stands in stark contrast to the immobility and self-referentiality of the structure as a whole. I suffer from recurrent bouts of nausea in the face of this densely woven tissue of "arguments," most of which are nothing but blinds for something else altogether, generally something unsavory; and I feel an urgent need to exit from it altogether. ~ Raymond Geuss

A silent Library is a sad Library. A Library without patrons on whom to pile books and tales and knowing and magazines full of up-to-the-minute politickal fashions and atlases and plays in pentameter! A Library should be full of exclamations! Shouts of delight and horror as the wonders of the world are discovered or the lies of the heavens are uncovered or the wild adventures of devil-knows-who sent romping out of the pages. A Library should be full of now-just-a-minutes and that-can't-be-rights and scientifick folk running skelter to prove somebody wrong. It should positively vibrate with laughing at comedies and sobbing at tragedies, it should echo with gasps as decent ladies glimpse indecent things and indecent ladies stumble upon secret and scandalous decencies! A Library should not shush; it should roar! ~ Catherynne M Valente

Jazz music, as is also the case with the old down-home spirituals, gospel and jubilee songs, jumps, shouts and moans, is essentially an American vernacular or idiomatic modification of musical conventions imported from Europe, beginning back during the time of the early settlers of the original colonies. ~ Albert Murray

Speech is the pen and the sword of humankind and it is the foundation of their kingdom. Wherever the flag of speech waves, the most powerful armies are. defeated and scattered. In the arenas in which speech shouts out, the sounds of cannon balls become like the buzzing of bees. from behind the battlements on which the banner of speech has been raised, the sound of its drums are heard. In the precincts where its march reverberates, kings shake in their boots. The Master of Speech smashed to pieces many insurmountable walls, in the face of which Alexander the Great, Napoleon, and many others despaired or retread; and the pen of Speech, imparting and compliance, was saluted and praised. ~ M. Fethullah Gulen

What?" Henry shouts over the noise when he sees the look on Alex's face.
"My life is a cosmic joke and you're not a real person," Alex says, wheezing.
"What?" Henry yells again.
"I said, you look great, baby! ~ Casey McQuiston

Excellent," says Gray, rubbing his hands together, a gleam in his eye. "The last
person to sing gets to buy the drinks."
Ivy grins wide. "You're on, Cupcake. I'm going to sing the house down."
We all pause, our gazes darting back and forth as a certain sense of terror falls
over the table.
Ivy sees us and slaps her palm onto the table. "Oh, for fuck's sake. I know what
you twats are thinking! If I suck at dancing, I'll suck at singing? Well, I don't. I'm
awesome."
Awkward silence ensues, and she snorts.
"What? You think I don't know I suck at dancing? I just don't give a shit." She
glares at Gray, though there really isn't any anger in the look. "So you can stop
dancing like an ass now."
A strangled sound leaves him. "You knew?"
"Of course." She tosses a lock of her hair over her shoulder. "You're too
coordinated on the field, and you kind of forget to suck when you do those victory
dances."
He gapes at her for a long second, then gives a bark of laughter. "I fucking love
you, Special Sauce." With that, he hauls Ivy into his lap and kisses her.
Fi, however, finally snaps out of the trance she's been in since Ivy confessed.
"You sneaky shithead," she shouts over the music. "All these years I've been
covering for your craptacular dancing, and you knew!" She shakes a fist. "I swear to
God, Ivy Weed…"
"Oh, please," Ivy counters. "You pretend you suck at baking so you don' ~ Kristen Callihan

I've kept a tally of the alcohol Ellie's consumed - three martinis at the dinner reception and four whiskeys neat at the pub. She downs a fifth one like water.

"You're a Viking!" Henry encourages her.

"Vikings!!!" Ellie shouts.

When the Prince calls the bartender for another, I push my way through the crowd to Henry.

"She's had enough," I tell him quietly.

"She's fine." He waves his hand at the air.

"She's just a girl," I insist.

Ellie takes exception, poking my arm with her finger and slurring. "Hey! I resent that. I'm a matter adult. Mattur. Ma-ture." She tilts her head, gasping. "Oh my God, I just realized that except for one letter, mature and manure are the same word! That's so weird."

I turn back to Prince Henry. "Like I said . . . more than enough."

He leans across the bar towards Ellie, holding up two fingers. "Ellie, how many fingers do you see?"

Ellie squints and strains, until finally she grabs Henry's hand and holds it still.

"Four."

"Brilliant answer!"

"Was I right?" Ellie asks hopefully.

"No - if you'd gotten it right, I'd be really concerned." Then he bangs the bar with his palm. "Another round!"

That's when Ellie slides clear off her stool. I catch her before she hits the floor, but just barely. And then I glare at Henry.

"Mmm . . . perhaps we have reached our quota for the evening." He ~ Emma Chase

The girl in 8G has no faith in herself," Marla shouts, "and she's worried that as she grows older, she'll have fewer and fewer options. ~ Chuck Palahniuk

Chicago. It's insane and violent and corrupt and vital and artistic and noble and cruel and wonderful. It's full of greed and hope and hate and desire and excitement and pain and happiness. The air sings with screams and laughter, with sirens, with angry shouts, with gunshots, with music. It's an impossible city, at war with itself, every horrible and wonderful thing blending together to create something terrifying and lovely and utterly unique. I ~ Jim Butcher

Her today's silence is the unheard shouts from past that you never listened. ~ Himanshu Chhabra

The next morning, when the Otis family met at breakfast, they discussed the ghost at some length. The United States Minister was naturally a little annoyed to find that his present had not been accepted. "I have no wish," he said, "to do the ghost any personal injury, and I must say that, considering the length of time he has been in the house, I don't think it is at all polite to throw pillows at him" - a very just remark, at which, I am sorry to say, the twins burst into shouts of laughter. "Upon the other hand," he continued, "if he really declines to use the Rising Sun Lubricator, we shall have to take his chains from him. It would be quite impossible to sleep, with such a noise going on outside the bedrooms. ~ Oscar Wilde

The snow has quietness in it; no songs,
no smells, no shouts or traffic.
When I speak
my own voice shocks me. ~ Anne Sexton

Wine talks; ask anyone. The oracle at the street corner; the uninvited guest at the wedding feast; the holy fool. It ventriloquizes. It has a million voices. It unleashes the tongue, teasing out secrets you never meant to tell, secrets you never even knew. It shouts, rants, whispers. It speaks of great plans, tragic loves, and terrible betrayals. It screams with laughter. It chuckles softly to itself. It weeps in front of its own reflection. It revives summers long past and memories best forgotten. Every bottle a whiff of other times, other places, everyone ... a humble miracle ~ Joanne Harris

Someone shouts, "Enough!" and I think too much and nothing at all. ~ Veronica Roth

Protect the ArchGovernor! Mustang shouts at me, voice more composed than my own, making me feel an idiot obsessed with chivalry. Of course she does not need me to save her. ~ Pierce Brown

The mob shouts with one big mouth and eats with a thousand little ones. ~ Stanislaw Jerzy Lec

She's no lady. Her songs are all unbelievably unhappy or lewd. It's called Blues. She sings about sore feet, sexual relations, baked goods, killing your lover, being broke, men called Daddy, women who dress like men, working, praying for rain. Jail and trains. Whiskey and morphine. She tells stories between verses and everyone in the place shouts out how true it all is. ~ Ann-Marie MacDonald

Carter: "Dude, I don't know why it works, it just does. [...] Just pretend you're not into 'em and then ask a question. What's the worst that could happen?"

EJ makes eye contact with the smallest one, off to the side. [...]
She looks up at EJ and gives him the nicest smile. He pulls the trigger and yells, "You think you're hot stuff, don't you?"

What the...? Where are you going with this?

"Excuse me?" she replies, kind of sweetly.
EJ asks, "You think you're cool, don't you? Where did you get that shirt, the Salvation Army? What the hell is with your hair?

My eyes are as big as basketballs as he fires one mean-ass question after another at her.

"You don't have a boyfriend, do you?" he continues.

It's like he's armed with self-esteem killer.

"Did your parents have any kids that lived?" EJ asks.

The girls starts to buckle, and tears are on the way.

"Are these your friends, or are they like, counselors here to observe you?" EJ shouts. [...]

He asks, "Does your grandma know you borrowed her shoes?" as I drag him away. The girl is crying pretty hard, and her friends are trying to console her. [...]

"Man, that didn't do very well. What do you think I did wrong?" EJ asks.
"Are you serious?" I ask
"I was just doing what you told me to," he replies.
"I-I-I told you to go up to that girl and start abusing her?" I ask.
"You said to ask her ~ Brent Crawford

I want you - "
"Then fucking have me."
" - but I don't want this."
Alex wants to grab Henry and shake him, wants to scream in his face, wants to smash every priceless antique in the room.
"What does that even mean?"
"I don't want it!" Henry practically shouts. His eyes are flashing, wet and angry and afraid. "Don't you bloody see? I'm not like you. I can't afford to be reckless. I don't have a family who will support me. I don't go about shoving who I am in everyone's faces and dreaming about a career in fucking politics, so I can be more scrutinized and picked apart by the entire godforsaken world. I can love you and want you and still not want that life. I'm allowed, all right, and it doesn't make me a liar; it makes me a man with some infinitesimal shred of self-preservation, unlike you, and you don't get to come here and call me a coward for it. ~ Casey McQuiston

Mines!" Patsy shouts, pointing at Tim. He goes to her, rumples her scanty hair.
"See, hot Alice? Even the very young feel the pull of my magnetism. It's like an irresistible urge, a force like gravity, or - "
"Poop! ~ Huntley Fitzpatrick

Then, winking at him, I passed my tongue over the top, and all around the ice cream at the rim of the cone, filling my whole mouth and, just to look sexy, also licking the tips of my fingers. Then I came around the counter, swaying my hips real pretty, and steadying myself over the wobbly high heels. I came right up to him, and before he could guess what kind of trouble I had cooked up in my head, I kissed him - so sweet and so long - on his lips, to the shouts and outcries of the offended customer ... ~ Uvi Poznansky

Hayden shouts, "To the new Teen Uprising! ~ Neal Shusterman

So it always is: when you escape to a desert the silence shouts in your ear. ~ Graham Greene

And I do. I do wonder, I think about it all the time. What it would be like to kill myself. Because I never really know, I still can't tell the difference, I'm never quite certain whether or not I'm actually alive. I sit here every single day. Run, I said to myself. Run until your lungs collapse, until the wind whips and snaps at your tattered clothes, until you're a blur that blends into the background.

Run, Juliette, run faster, run until your bones break and your shins split and your muscles atrophy and your heart dies because it was always too big for your chest and it beat too fast for too long and you run.

Run run run until you can't hear their feet behind you. Run until they drop their fists and their shouts dissolve in the air. Run with your eyes open and your mouth shut and dam the river rushing up behind your eyes. Run, Juliette.

Run until you drop dead. Make sure your heart stops before they ever reach you. Before they ever touch you.

Run, I said. ~ Tahereh Mafi

In our adversity, God shouts to us. ~ C.S. Lewis

The guys from the board are at a smaller bonfire near the tree line. They're laughing. Talking shit. Enjoying the fact that they've tried to play with my life. Yelling. Loud shouts. It's near me, but the chaos controlling me makes it incoherent. ~ Katie McGarry

They don't sleep here." My brow furrows. "How do you know?" "I just know," he says. "I can tell by looking at it." Before I can ask him any more, the curtain in the living room moves. The door yanks open, my mother appearing, eyes wide. She looks frantic. "Karissa," she shouts, her voice high-pitched, full of panic. "Oh God. Get away from him, sweetie." I blink a few times, caught off guard, as Naz slips his arms around me, pulling me flush against him. One arm encircles my waist as his other settles along my chest, ~ J.M. Darhower

The mayor informed General Petronio San Roman of the episode, down to the last literal phrase, in an alarming telegram. General San Roman must have followed his son's wishes to the letter, because he didn't come for him, but sent his wife with their daughters and two other older women who seemed to be her sisters. They came on a cargo boat, locked in mourning up to their necks because of Bayardo San Roman's misfortunes, and with their hair hanging loose in grief. Before stepping onto land, they took off their shoes and went barefoot through the streets up to the hilltop in the burning dust of noon, pulling out strands of hair by the roots and wailing loudly with such high-pitched shrieks that they seemed to be shouts of joy. I watched them pass from Magdalena Oliver's balcony, and I remember thinking that distress like theirs could only be put on in order to hide other, greater shames. ~ Gabriel Garcia Marquez

The draft," he shouts, "is white people sending black people to make war on yellow people in order to defend the land they stole from red people. The draft must end: not tomorrow, not next week, but today. ~ Tavis Smiley

The wind is blowing Simon's hair straight, and he's squinting - from the sun and from all the smiling. "What!" he shouts at me again.
"You're so beautiful!" I shout back.
He turns the radio down, so now there's just the wind and the engine noise to shout over. "What'd you say?!"
"Nothing! ~ Rainbow Rowell

Sometimes He whispers, sometimes He shouts, but God does speak to us through His Word. ~ K. Kandel

At LeakyCon, a young lady asked me how I dealt with bullying. I wasn't able to give her a very good answer, which troubles me. Well, there were lots of shouts of "It gets better" and "Stay strong" and "We love you". But when I put myself back in time to when I was being bullied, none of those things would've helped me. Yes, absolutely it does get better. But when you are being physically and psychologically tortured, it is difficult to remove yourself from the pressingness of the moment at hand. Here's how I dealt with bullying: I cried, I hated myself, I hated my life. I didn't deal with it, I survived it, but I never dealt with it. So here are two tips from someone with lots of experience. 1: It's not about you, it has nothing to do with you, it's about the assholes doing it to you. 2: Your job is not to deal with it, your job is to survive it, which you CAN do because it WILL end. And then yes, it will get better. ~ Hank Green

They Harry Potters still enormously outnumber the likes of Petunia and Vernon Dursley in society, who just don't hold with such nonsense, perhaps reflecting how modern life seems more out of control than ever. Most people do indeed believe in magic of one sort or another, whether the thespian who shouts "break a leg" at a colleague, the student who always wears the same outfit for exams, the blushing bride who crosses her fingers for good luck or those who jump with joy when they find a four-leaf clover. Why is our belief in magic so deeply ingrained? Indeed, why do we believe in anything at all? ~ Roger Highfield

when i was a boy
a god often rescued me
from the shouts and the rods of men
and i played among trees and flowers
secure in their kindness
and the breezes of heaven
were playing there too.

and as you delight
the hearts of plants
when they stretch towards you
with little strength

so you delighted the heart in me
father Helios, and like Endymion
i was your favourite,
Moon. o all

you friendly
and faithful gods
i wish you could know
how my soul has loved you.

even though when i called to you then
it was not yet with names, and you
never named me as people do
as though they knew one another

i knew you better
than i have ever known them.
i understood the stillness above the sky
but never the words of men.

trees were my teachers
melodious trees
and i learned to love
among flowers.

i grew up in the arms of the gods. ~ Friedrich Holderlin

A hip-looking teen watches an elderly woman hobble across the street on a walker.
"Grammy's here!" he shouts.
He puts some MacAttack Mac&Cheese in the microwave and dons headphones and takes out a video game so he won't be bored during the forty seconds it takes his lunch to cook. A truck comes around the corner and hits Grammy, sending her flying over the roof into the backyard, where luckily she lands on a trampoline. Unluckily, she bounces back over the roof, into the front yard, landing on a rosebush. ~ George Saunders

It's painfully obvious to both of us that you're dangerously close to a sexless-related meltdown. And I went to Alibi last girls' night and there were plenty of straight people there, too, you know, but um. I mean, there were also lots of - "
"People!" Jon shouts, "Plenty of people. With, uh, orifices. ~ Seventhswan

I'm tired of this place. Going with these guys when they leave so thought I'd start off my employment with an act of goodwill." The doors open and the night air streams in, cooling the lobby. "I'll help myself to the money in Ray's apartment you owe me. Don't think you'll be needing it anymore," Ollie shouts after them as they're shoved outside. ~ Joe Hart

Oh, my dear Kepler, how I wish that we could have one hearty laugh together. Here, at Padua, is the principal professor of philosophy, whom I have repeatedly and urgently requested to look at the moon and planets through my glass, [telescope] which he pertinaciously refuses to do. Why are you not here? what shouts of laughter we should have at this glorious folly! and to hear the professor of philosophy at Pisa laboring before the grand duke with logical arguments, as if with magical incantations, to charm the new planets out of the sky. ~ Galileo Galilei

The struggle for power had reached a new stage; it was fought with scientific formulas. The weapons vanished in the abyss like fleeting images, like pictures one throws into the fire ...
When new models were displayed to the masses at the great parades on Red Square in Moscow or elsewhere, the crowds stood in reverent silence and then broke into jubilant shouts of triumph ...
Though the display was continual, in this silence and these shouts something evil, old as time, manifested itself in man, who is an outsmarter and setter of traps. Invisible, Cain and Tubalcain marched past in the parade of phantoms. ~ Ernst Junger

When Jo's conservative sister Meg says she must turn up her hair now that she is a "young lady," Jo shouts, "I'm not! and if turning up my hair makes me one, I'll wear it in two tails till I'm twenty ... I hate to think I've got to grow up, and be Miss March, and wear long gowns, and look as prim as a China aster! It's bad enough to be a girl anyway, when I like boys' games and work and manners! I can't get over my disappointment in not being a boy; and it's worse than ever now, for I'm dying to go and fight with Papa, and I can only stay at home and knit, like a poky old woman. ~ Louisa May Alcott

You know why I love dogs more than people?" she shouts, everything about her softer. "Feed them and pet them and they'll love you when no one else will. ~ Michael Robotham

Ever heard of the rule of three? he shouts as we run.
No!
If you save somebody's life three times, their life belongs to you. You saved my life today, that makes once. Save it twice more an I'm all yers. ~ Moira Young

The Suyá reaction to my recording was one of the clearest statements I obtained about the importance of the different parts to the total sound. The melody line - the clearly organized tone and rythm being performed by the older men - was only part of the desired effect, which also included the apparently irreverent calls, shouts, and giggles. ~ Anthony Seeger

I'm not leaving you!" She shouts. "Now shut up!"
My heart twists at the tone in her voice. The tears in her eyes. Because as much as she might pretend to be, my sister isn't simple. She knows the math here. ~ Jay Kristoff

The louder he shouts,
The weaker is his self confidence! ~ Nitya Prakash

Winston stopped reading, chiefly in order to appreciate the fact that he was reading, in comfort and safety. He was alone: no telescreen, no ear at the keyhole, no nervous impulse to glance over his shoulder or cover the page with his hand. The sweet summer air played against his cheek. From somewhere far away there floated the faint shouts of children: in the room itself there was no sound except the insect voice of the clock. He settled deeper into the arm-chair and put his feet up on the fender. It was bliss, it was eternity. ~ George Orwell

The cat Horus shot out from under the table and headed for the door, his ears flattened and his tail straight out. There he encountered Abdullah, who had been waiting for us on the verandah and who had, I supposed, been alarmed by Emerson's shouts and hurried to discover what disaster had prompted them. The cat got entangled in Abdullah's skirts and a brief interval of staggering (by Abdullah), scratching (by Horus) and swearing (by both parties) ensued before Horus freed himself and departed. ~ Elizabeth Peters

Over our manhood bend the skies; Against our fallen and traitor lives The great winds utter prophecies; With our faint hearts the mountain strives, Its arms outstretched, the druid wood Waits with its benedicite And to our age's drowsy blood Still shouts the inspiring sea. ~ James Russell Lowell

(Satan's) first goal, of course, is to make sure we never meet the Prince who is Jesus of Nazareth or experience a taste of the Great Ball, But once we have, Satan's second and lifelong purpose with each of us is to make sure we never know who we really are; indeed, to keep us living the life of a cellar maid rather than a princess. Even though we who are believers have tasted the Ball and the love of the Prince in beginning ways, the voices of the stepsisters continue to speak to us in tones varying from whispers to shouts, and like Cinderella, each of us has our own years as a "cellar maid" that the enemy can whisper to us about, causing us to wonder if this isn't who we really are after all. ~ John Eldredge

Jasper!" Casey shouts, startling the young woman. "My cargo is talking to me! ~ Nathan Reese Maher

We are a nation that shouts at a microwave oven to hurry up. ~ Joan Ryan

Down the hall I could hear the thud of basketballs, the blare of the time-out horn, and the shouts of the crowd as the sports-beasts fought: Lisbon Greyhounds versus Jay Tigers.
Who can know when life hangs in the balance, or why? ~ Stephen King

One may picture, too, the sudden shifting of the attention, the swiftly spreading coils and bellyings of that blackness advancing headlong, towering heavenward, turning the twilight to a palpable darkness, a strange and horrible antagonist of vapour striding upon its victims, men and horses near it seen dimly, running, shrieking, falling headlong, shouts of dismay, the guns suddenly abandoned, men choking and writhing on the ground, and the swift broadening-out of the opaque cone of smoke. And then night and extinction – nothing but a silent mass of impenetrable vapour hiding its dead. ~ H.G. Wells

...by degrees they waxed more and more angry by their own shouts, and as they were not able to understand how any one could have courage without showing it by cries, they attributed the silence of the dragoons to pusillanimity, and advanced one step towards the prison, with all the turbulent mob following in their wake. ~ Alexandre Dumas

I'm not particularly good at coping with it. I just cope. I just leave my brain at the door and just stand there. I can get the screaming more than I get the photo things. That's the worst, when you have this wall of photographers. I've never understood the logic in how they do it. Everybody shouts at the same time, and you're trying to do a logical thing, looking from the left to the right. And they almost always end up looking disappointed with you afterwards. ~ Robert Pattinson

But he had never seen Myrna in practice...never that close up. He had been impressed and a little frightened by the contrast between seeing ballet on stange, where everyone seemed to either glide or mince effortlessly on the tips of their pointes. and seeing it from less than five feet away, with harsh daylight pouring in the floor-to-ceiling windows and no music- only the choreographer rythmically clapping his hands and yelling harsh criticisms. No praise, only criticisms. Their faces ran with sweat. Their leotards were wet with sweat. The room, as large and airy as it way, stank of sweat. Sleek muscles trembled and fluttered on the nervous edge of exhaustion. Corded tendons stood out like insulated cables. Throbbing veins popped out on foreheads and necks. Except for the choreographer's clapping and angry, hectoring shouts, the only sounds were the thrup-thud of ballet dancers on pointe moving across the floor and harsh, agonized panting for breath. Jack had suddenly realized that these dancers were not just earning a living, they were killing themselves. Most of all he remembered their expressions- all that exhausted concentration, all that pain... but transcending the pain, or at least creeping around its edges, he had seen joy. Joy was unmistakably what that look was, and it scared Jack because it had seemed inexplicable. ~ Stephen King

Objection!" Metz shouts. Grounds?" the judge asks. Well ... he's my witness! ~ Jodi Picoult

It shouldn't have surprised me. I serve a God who experienced and expressed anger. One of the most meaningful passages of Scripture for me is found in the New Testament, where Jesus leads a one-man protest inside the Temple walls. Jesus leads a one-man protest inside the Temple walls. Jesus shouts at the corrupt Temple officials, overturns furniture, sets animals free, blocks the doorways with his body, and carries a weapon - a whip - through the place. Jesus throws folks out the building, and in so doing creates space for the most marginalized to come in: the poor, the wounded, the children. I imagine the next day's newspapers called Jesus's anger destructive. But I think those without power would've said that his anger led to freedom - the freedom of belonging, the freedom healing, and the freedom of participating as full members in God's house. ~ Austin Channing Brown

Men listened closer to calm tones than to the loudest shouts, so long as firmness and certainty accompanied the calm. ~ Robert Jordan

Then summer came. A summer limp with the weight of blossomed things. Heavy sunflowers weeping over fences; iris curling and browning at the edges far away from their purple hearts; ears of corn letting their auburn hair wind down to their stalks. AND THE BOYS. The beautiful, beautiful boys who dotted the landscape like jewels, split the air with their shouts in the field, and thickened the river with their shining wet backs. EVEN THEIR FOOTSTEPS LEFT A SMELL OF SMOKE BEHIND! ~ Toni Morrison

Nothing shouts out "Celebrity!" as loudly as being a biker in desperate need of a shave, a haircut and clean clothes. ~ Foster Kinn

Everyone chats and smiles, chats about nothing, shouts and drinks themselves silly occasionally or all the time. They they die one fine day, old or young, they die, tucked up into the earth. That's what it's like. Swarming lives, with no meaning, no number. ~ Erik Fosnes Hansen