Six Feet Under Quotes

Rainy, gloomy, drab, sunless day. There are times when hope seems entirely clouded over, when looking for the blessings in your circumstances feels like trying to catch a ray of sunshine from six feet under. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

Honestly, I think some of my family members of a certain generation were more skittish about me playing a gay character on Six Feet Under than watching me play a killer. ~ Michael C. Hall

Money.. Its nothing really worth squabbling about. I mean, this is what puts people six feet under! ~ Burt Shavitz

There is no 'this'. This is nothing."

"And I am nothing," Neil prompted. When Andrew gestured confirmation, Neil said, "And as you've always said, you want nothing."

Andrew stared stone-faced back at him. Neil would have assumed it a silent rejection of Neil's veiled accusation if Andrew's hand hadn't frozen midair between them. Neil took the bottle from Andrew's other hand and set it off to one side where they couldn't knock it over.

"That's a first," Neil said. "Do I get a prize for shutting you up?"

"A quick death," Andrew said. "I've already decided where to hide your body."

"Six feet under?" Neil guessed.

"Stop talking," Andrew said, and kissed him. ~ Nora Sakavic

Speeches are for the younger men who are going places. And I'm not going anyplace except six feet under the floor of that little chapel adjoining the museum and library at Abilene. ~ Dwight D. Eisenhower

There are some of you here today who feel like dead people. It is as if you are already six feet under, staring up at the top of your own locked coffin. This morning Jesus wants to set you free. You simply have to let go of the key and pass it through the little hole, where you see a tiny shaft of light. ~ Sheila Walsh

I have ballet class every other day for two hours. And for 'Six Feet Under', last week there was a sequence where I had to do a whole choreographed dance number, so I had four hours of dance practice every day. ~ Michelle Trachtenberg

Time flies when you are having fun. ~ Albert Einstein

Something I've really been wanting to do, ever since 'Six Feet Under' ended, was create my own version of this idealized writer's room as well as the ideal family. ~ Jill Soloway

I was pretty sure it was the response he drew from most women - the chance gaze, followed by a pause; the appreciation of something magnificent, no matter how fleeting. I would have to be six feet under not to react to him. It wasn't just about the way he looked. He had something more. Solidity. Substance. The kind of thing the moon does to the tides, making the waves rise to attention. Jack could give you goosebumps simply by circling past you. I shuddered to think what it would be like if he deliberately decided to slay you. ~ Leylah Attar

I like that girl more that I can remember likin' anything in my life. I'm not about to give her up. I'll start carin' what people think when I am six feet under. ~ Simone Elkeles

[Dust]
Agatha Morley
all her life
grumbled at dust
like a good wife

...

Six feet under
the earth she lies
with dust at her feet
and dust in her eyes. ~ Sydney King Russell

I think the rigors of a TV schedule are brutal and 'Six Feet Under' wasn't a network schedule. We did 13 shows, we didn't do 22. I don't know how people do that. I really don't. I mean the shows are shorter, but wow, it's quite a discipline. ~ Frances Conroy

No matter what happened, there was always one thing Isla could rely on: the sheer arrogance of male wolves. That, and their overriding assumption all females found them irresistible and were desperate to get them in the sack. Mostly she was desperate to get them in the sack, if only to stop their whining, but she didn't think a sack six feet under was precisely what they meant. ~ Mina Carter

Actually, I think that 'Seinfeld' tackles the same kinds of issues as 'Six Feet Under,' just in a different way. ~ Bruce Eric Kaplan

Jumping into action, I chased after them to the bank of lifts. Sean pressed the button to go down as I caught up to them.
"Talk to me. Give me ten minutes."
She turned to look at me, a galaxy of emotion in her eyes. "There's nothing - "
"Please," I urged, almost begging.
The lift doors slid open and she stepped inside. I followed suit, while Sean hung back. "Actually, I need to use the bathroom. I'll meet you in the lobby, Eilish," he said just as the doors closed.
"Sean!" she yelled, but he was already gone.
If looks could kill, Cassidy would be six feet under. Eilish glared at the smooth, polished metal with absolute murder in her eyes.
I, on the other hand, could've fucking kissed her cousin. With tongue. ~ L.H. Cosway

I wouldn't want the pressure of a Six Feet Under or the pressure of improvising like Curb Your Enthusiasm. ~ Robert Englund

Money is nothing really worth squabbling about. This is what puts people six feet under. You know, I don't need it. ~ Burt Shavitz

A complex world of intrigues and power play among couples has
combined to deny young people the love and attention they truly
deserve, more and more teenagers are leaving home to peer up with
bad influence which eventually lands them in jail for the lucky ones
and six feet under for the not so lucky. ~ Oche Otorkpa

I threw my binder of materials down on our apartment's floral couch. "Seriously, pink is a neutral color! And what's elegant about navy blue? No one ever says, 'Hey, you know what's elegant? The Navy!'"
Arianna rolled her dead guys. "There is nothing neutral about pink. They need a color that looks good as a background to any shade of dress."
"What color clashes with pink?"
"Orange?"
"Well, if anyone shows up in an orange dress, she deserves to clash. Yuck."
"Chill out. You can do a lot with navy."
I sank down into the couch next to her. "I guess. I could do navy with silver accents. Stars?"
"Yawn."
"Snowflakes?"
"Gee, now you're getting creative for a winter formal."
I ignored her tone, as usual. I was just glad she was here. She'd been gone a lot lately. "Hmm . . . maybe something softer. Like a water and mist theme?" I asked.
"I . . . actually kind of like that."
"Wanna help me with the sketches?"
She leaned forward and turned on Easton Heights. "Decorating a stupid dance is all yours. You're the one who decided to be more involved in your 'normal life.' I'd prefer to be sleeping six feet under."
"This is probably a bad time to mention I also might have signed up to help with costumes for the spring play. And since I know nothing about sewing, I kind of maybe signed you up as a volunteer aide."
She sighed, running one glamoured corpse hand through her spiky red and black hair. "I am going to kill yo ~ Kiersten White

With her I'd buried myself, every memory of who I was now, six feet under with the sister I'd put there. ~ Trisha Leaver

But in the same token, I wondered how I was still standing. Why wasn't I six feet under from the shock of what had happened? How was I living, breathing, and lying like nothing had happened? Part of me might have been living, but the other part of me wished I was dead. I shuddered at the thought. I closed my eyes and pressed myself closer to Will. For the first time all morning, I felt safe. ~ Katie Ashley

Home, Ms. Lane?" His deep voice was gently amused.
"I have to call it something," I said morosely. "They say home is where the heart is. I think mine's satin-lined
and six feet under. ~ Karen Marie Moning

To act alongside a TV idol of mine, Peter Krause, was phenomenal. I watched him in 'Six Feet Under,' I watched him on 'Dirty Sexy Money' and I'll carry on watching him, and I've been lucky enough to be a part of that world with him. ~ Alex Pettyfer

I really wanted to be on Six Feet Under as a corpse. That would be hysterical. ~ Michael Stipe

You got ghosts," Blue interrupted. "I know it. Hell, we all fuckin' know it. You got 'em followin' you everywhere you fuckin' go. You got Reaper breathin' down your neck and now Frankie's back there too. You ain't gonna move forward unless you dig yerself a hole and throw that bullshit six feet under, set it on fuckin' fire, and bury that shit. Otherwise you ain't no good to no one, least of all yerself. ~ Madeline Sheehan

Dating is a man-made ideology: if having a lover was a prerequisite to living, one would either be in a relationship, or, six feet under. ~ Mokokoma Mokhonoana

I was a big fan of 'Six Feet Under.' So, I got a bootleg copy of the first four episodes on videotape, watched them and was instantly into it. During the first episode, I was like, 'Eh.' By the time I got to the second one, I couldn't watch them fast enough. I got on the phone that night, called Time Warner cable and ordered HBO right then. ~ Denis O'Hare

We think we're invincible, but we're not. One way or another, we're all placed six feet under. ~ Ilsa Madden-Mills

No Matter How High You Are, You Will End Up At Six Feet Under. Enjoy your OWN life. ~ Wuwun Wiati

The first time that I saw people actually make the thing that I wrote was my first episode of 'Six Feet Under.' It was called 'Back To The Garden.' ~ Jill Soloway

I know stealing a foot is weird. But, hello, living in a house where a foot is available to be stolen is weird. ~ Lauren Ambrose As Claire Fisher

There is one man," the artist said after a moment. He'd paled. "H. F. Powell."
"Where would I find him?"
West didn't seem to hear him for a moment. He shook his head as if clearing away cobwebs from his brain. "Find him?" His laugh was more of a grunt. "Six feet under, last I checked. ~ B. J. Daniels

A trite but effective tactic against the fear of death: think of the list of people who had to be pried away from life. What did they gain by dying old? In the end, they all sleep six feet under - Caedicianus, Fabius, Julian, Lepidus, and all the rest. They buried their contemporaries, and were buried in turn. Our lifetime is so brief. And to live it out in these circumstances, among these people, in this body? Nothing to get excited about. Consider the abyss of time past, the infinite future. Three days of life or three generations: what's the difference? ~ Marcus Aurelius

I admired shows like 'Six Feet Under.' That was an amazing show. Never boring, always inventive, smart. Loved the characters. Completely original. Those are shows that I admire. ~ Chris Carter

'Six Feet Under' was about repressing our deepest, most primal impulses, and 'True Blood' is about giving full sway to them all the time. In a way they are like yin and yang. ~ Alan Ball

'Six Feet Under' was so much about life. Sure, it had a lot to do with death, but that's the fun - that now I became a dead person. ~ Frances Conroy

I really want to do a 'True Blood-Six Feet Under' comic book crossover. ~ Michael McMillian

It's as if he wants me to say he could have stopped his dad, so he's handing me a whip to beat him. But I won't, because I'm glad he hid. Glad he's beside me instead of six feet under. ~ Courtney C. Stevens

I'd like to be on the next 'Six Feet Under,' whatever that is. ~ Betsy Brandt

You are always wanting miracles; but God sows miracles by handfuls under your feet, and yet you still have people who deny their existence. ~ Allan Kardec

Kate, the mother of thirteen, is forty-nine; delicately made; her skin creamlike where the weather has not got at it. She is smaller than several of her children. Her legs and feet, like those of most women in this country, are beautifully shaped by shoelessness on the earth. Her eyes, which are watchful not at all for herself but for her family, are those of a small animal which expects another kick as a matter of course and which is too numbed to dodge it or even much care. She calls her children "my babies." They call her mama, treat her protectively as they might a deformed child, and love her carelessly and gaily. An old photograph shows her fiber and bearing as a young woman, and perhaps it is the relinquishment of that unusual spirit, under the beating and breakage of the past two decades, that has made her now the most abandoned of these people: more than any of them, she is lost in some solitary region of her own. She is only half sane. ~ James Agee

Still stands the forest primeval; but far away from its shadow,
Side by side, in their nameless graves, the lovers are sleeping.
Under the humble walls of the little catholic churchyard,
In the heart of the city, they lie, unknown and unnoticed;
Daily the tides of life go ebbing and flowing beside them,
Thousands of throbbing hearts, where theirs are at rest and forever,
Thousands of aching brains, where theirs no longer are busy,
Thousands of toiling hands, where theirs have ceased from their labors,
Thousands of weary feet, where theirs have completed their journey! ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

All day the blanket snapped and swelled
on the line, roused by a hot spring wind ...
From there it witnessed the first sparrow,
early flies lifting their sticky feet,
and a green haze on the south-sloping hills.
Clouds rose over the mountain ... At dusk
I took the blanket in, and we slept,
restless, under its fragrant weight. ~ Jane Kenyon

He did not feel the ground under his feet - he thrust himself into the capriole, rose high in the air-forelegs and hind legs horizontal. He soared above the ground, he head in jubilation. Conquering! ~ Felix Salten

I'm not melancholic,' she protested, but the thin ice was under her feet again, the uncertainties. or was it that she always wanted a little more than she had, no matter how much she had? ~ Patricia Highsmith

I breathed in a deep dose of night air, trying to calm my schoolgirl nervousness. "I, umm…" I began. "I decided to stick around here a little while." There. I'd said it. This was all officially real.
Without a moment of hesitation, Marlboro Man wrapped his ample arms around my waist. Then, in what seemed to be less than a second, he hoisted me from my horizontal position on the bed of his pickup until we were both standing in front of each other. Scooping me off my feet, he raised me up to his height so his icy blue eyes were level with mine.
"Wait…are you serious?" he asked, taking my face in his hands. Squaring it in front of his. Looking me in the eye. "You're not going?"
"Nope," I answered.
"Whoa," he said, smiling and moving in for a long, impassioned kiss on the back of his Ford F250. "I can't believe it," he continued, squeezing me tightly.
Our knees buckled under the heat, and before I knew it we were back where we'd been before, rolling around and kissing manically in the bed of his diesel pickup. Occasionally my arm would hit a crowbar and my head would slam against a spare tire or a cattle prod or a jack; I didn't care, of course. I'd said what I wanted to say that night. Everything else--even minor head injuries--was a piece of cake.
We stayed there a long, long time, the balmy night air giving us no good reason to leave. Under the innumerable stars, amidst all the embraces and kisses and sounds from the surrounding livestock, I sudde ~ Ree Drummond

A good upbringing is necessary for a long life, but sometimes the patience of the young trees is sorely tested. As I mentioned in chapter 5, "Tree Lottery," acorns and beechnuts fall at the feet of large "mother trees." Dr. Suzanne Simard, who helped discover maternal instincts in trees, describes mother trees as dominant trees widely linked to other trees in the forest through their fungal-root connections. These trees pass their legacy on to the next generation and exert their influence in the upbringing of the youngsters. "My" small beech trees, which have by now been waiting for at least eighty years, are standing under mother trees that are about two hundred years old -- the equivalent of forty-year-olds in human terms. The stunted trees can probably expect another two hundred years of twiddling their thumbs before it is finally their turn. The wait time is, however, made bearable. Their mothers are in contact with them through their root systems, and they pass along sugar and other nutrients. You might even say they are nursing their babies. ~ Peter Wohlleben

To be a modern person in 2012, you are often required to have some electronics in your life. And I do. I try to put that phone down, put the computer away, and get out there and hike in the woods; feel it in my feet, feel it in my hands; get out in the garden and feel the soil under my fingers, my fingertips and my fingernails. I try to be involved in nature in a very tactile way. I think that's important. ~ Ed Begley, Jr.

Her words depressed him. They were like spilt sugar; however much you swept it up some grains would keep grinding under your feet. ~ Muriel Spark

Richard wrote a diary entry in his head.

Dear Diary, he began. On Friday I had a job, a fiancée, a home, and a life that made sense. (Well, as much as any life makes sense). Then I found an injured girl bleeding on the pavement, and I tried to be a Good Samaritan. Now I've got no fiancée, no home, no job, and I'm walking around a couple of hundred feet under the streets of London with the projected life expectancy of a suicidal fruitfly. ~ Neil Gaiman

Our houses are at least 12 feet under water. All you can see on TV are rooftops. And the bridge we came across, the I-10 twin span, is now split. ~ George Clarke

There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself "Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!" (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and, burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge. ~ Lewis Carroll

My sisters had been living in the House of Wind since they'd arrived in Velaris.
They did not leave the palace built into the upper parts of a flat-topped mountain overlooking the city. They did not ask for anything, or anyone.
So I would go to them.
Lucien was waiting in the sitting room when Rhys and I came downstairs at last, my mate having given the silent order for them to return.
Unsurprisingly, Cassian and Azriel were casually seated in the dining room across the hall, eating lunch and marking every single breath Lucien emitted. Cassian smirked at me, brows flicking up.
I shot him a warning glare that dared him to comment. Azriel, thankfully, just kicked Cassian under the table.
Cassian gawked at Azriel as if to declare I wasn't going to say anything while I approached the open archway into the sitting room, Lucien rising to his feet. ~ Sarah J. Maas

Professor Moriarty is not a man who lets the grass grow under his feet. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle

A man who is pressing forward to accomplish worthy goals can soon put despondency under his feet. ~ Ezra Taft Benson

Having shaved, washed, and dexterously arranged several artificial teeth, standing in front of the mirror, he moistened his silver-mounted brushes and plastered the remains of his thick pearly hair on his swarthy yellow skull. He drew on to his strong old body, with its abdomen protuberant from excessive good living, his cream-colored silk underwear, put black silk socks and patent-leather slippers on his flat-footed feet. He put sleeve-links in the shining cuffs of his snow-white shirt, and bending forward so that his shirt front bulged out, he arranged his trousers that were pulled up high by his silk braces, and began to torture himself, putting his collar-stud through the stiff collar. The floor was still rocking beneath him, the tips of his fingers hurt, the stud at moments pinched the flabby skin in the recess under his Adam's apple, but he persisted, and at last, with eyes all strained and face dove-blue from the over-tight collar that enclosed his throat, he finished the business and sat down exhausted in front of the pier glass, which reflected the whole of him, and repeated him in all the other mirrors.

" It is awful ! " he muttered, dropping his strong, bald head, but without trying to understand or to know what was awful. Then, with habitual careful attention examining his gouty-jointed short fingers and large, convex, almond-shaped finger-nails, he repeated : " It is awful. . . . ~ Ivan Alekseyevich Bunin

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

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

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

Fuck. Fuck. Clarity pours over me.

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

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

The bulge is unmistakable.

"Gabriella…"

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

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

He hums and the rumble hurtles down between my thighs.

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

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

I want to make you never want to leave from under me." Stitch gave him one more kiss before finally pushing himself up. Stitch had no idea he had already reached his goal, but Zak was a reasonable man, and he wouldn't make teenage-worthy promises or declarations. Life didn't work that way in his world.
Instead, he reached back with his hand without yet looking up. He was heavy with lazy, sweet exhaustion.
"What's this?" Stitch chuckled and pulled on his fingers.
"Nothing. Just wanted to touch you," muttered Zak, slowly turning his head and sprawling his cheek on the blanket to look back. He took a deep breath when Stitch pulled out his cock, leaving him boneless.
"You can touch me whenever you want." Stitch smiled at him with his eyelids lowered. He was the picture of satisfaction.
Zak snorted and pulled on Stitch's hand, getting to his feet. He didn't want to think about the bad blood left over from the spying. Or the broken window. "That's handy."
Stitch got rid of the condom and stroked Zak's ass with a lazy grin.
Zak sighed, looking at the large hand on his asscheek. "You know how to make a man feel special ~ K.A. Merikan

With my gaze on anything but Cade, I moved around the room but when Scout spotted me he trotted over. I knelt down and rubbed his ears. The silky fur between my fingers stirred memories.

Scout's tongue flicked under my chin. I leaned my head back and smiled.

"He kissed you," a little boy said. "That means he likes you."

"You think so?" I scrubbed my hands over Scout's neck.

"Yeah. Right, Cade? Dog kisses mean they like you."

I kept my eyes on Scout to avoid looking at Cade.

"Yep, means he likes her." He sat a few feet away and his words wrapped around me, his voice comforting.

Scout lifted his paw and placed it on my knee.

"What's that mean, Cade?" The little boy pointed to my leg.

"Hmm, maybe he doesn't want her to leave." I peeked over, and Cade met my gaze. "He likes her too much."

I looked away.

"Maybe he loves her," the little boy said in a singsong voice.

Without missing a beat Cade said, "Maybe he does."

The little boy broke into a fit of belly laughs, and Cade scooted closer. He poked him playfully in the side. "Hey, what's funny about that?"

"He's a dog. She's a girl."

"That's true," Cade whispered. "But a pretty one, so can you really blame him?"

The little boy giggled more. "That's silly."

Scout nudged me with his wet nose and I cupped his face. "It's okay, boy, the feeling is mutu ~ Renita Pizzitola

I talk. Jim runs. I tilt stones, Jim grabs the cold junk under the stones and -lickety-split! I climb hills. Jim yells off church steeples. I got a bank account. Jim's got the hair on his head, the yell in his mouth, the shirt on his back and the tennis shoes on his feet. How come I think he's richer? ~ Ray Bradbury

Bones crushed under her feet as she took the first step into the outer dark. The gunlight revealed his remains. Demon did you suffer? Were you afraid of the end? Did you remember the trail of ruin you left behind? ~ C.J. Anderson

We have always heard it preached, „Love one another". What for? That doctrine was peached, but the explanation is here. Why should I love every one? Because they and I are one. Why should I love my brother? Because he and I are one. There is this oneness; this solidarity of the whole universe. From the lowest worm that crawls under our feet to the highest beings that ever lived – all have various bodies, but are the one Soul. ~ Swami Vivekananda

Maybe grace was all around me, bubbling through, passing under my feet, and I'd never seen it because I'd never tried to see. ~ Lisa Wingate

The Czech Republic, severed from its old Slovak half, sits in apparent landlocked contentment, inside the European Union but outside the troubled Euro Zone, set into the new Continental mosaic like one of the small sturdy paving stones, just a few inches square, that form the sidewalks under the visitor's ambling feet. ~ Thomas Mallon

Love is too delicate a flower to rise again when one has trampled it under foot. ~ George Sand

I want to be intoxicated by the darkened ether of midnight, running through my fingers as sparkling stardust. I crave the taste of the ocean's salty tears, as her temperamental tides crash and break against the rocks. I yearn for the sweet scent of sun on my skin and the earthy musk of dirt giving way under my bare feet. I want to lay naked in golden fields, as i gaze up at an endless sky, dreaming my dreams, as Mother Nature's love washes over me like spiritual sunshine. ~ Jaeda DeWalt

Skepticism can never provide firm ground under a man's feet. And perhaps, after all, we need firm ground. ~ Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

The family were wild," she said suddenly. "They tried to marry me off. And then when I'd begun to feel that after all life was scarcely worth living I found something" - her eyes went skyward exultantly - "I found something!"

Carlyle waited and her words came with a rush.

"Courage - just that; courage as a rule of life, and something to cling to always. I began to build up this enormous faith in myself. I began to see that in all my idols in the past some manifestation of courage had unconsciously been the thing that attracted me. I began separating courage from the other things of life. All sorts of courage - the beaten, bloody prize-fighter coming up for more - I used to make men take me to prize-fights; the déclassé woman sailing through a nest of cats and looking at them as if they were mud under her feet; the liking what you like always; the utter disregard for other people's opinions - just to live as I liked always and to die in my own way - Did you bring up the cigarettes?"

He handed one over and held a match for her silently.

"Still," Ardita continued, "the men kept gathering - old men and young men, my mental and physical inferiors, most of them, but all intensely desiring to have me - to own this rather magnificent proud tradition I'd built up round me. Do you see?"

"Sort of. You never were beaten and you never apologized."

"Never!"

She sprang to the edge, poised or a moment like a c ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

She sleeps. And now she wakes each day a little less. And, each day, takes less and less nourishment, as if grudging the least moment of wakefulness, for, from the movement under her eyelids, and the somnolent gestures of her hands and feet, it seems as if her dreams grow more urgent and intense, as if the life she lives in the closed world of dreams is now about to possess her utterly, as if her small, increasingly reluctant wakenings were an interpretation of some more vital existence, so she is loath to spend even those necessary moments of wakefulness with us, wakings strange as her sleepings. Her marvellous fate - a sleep more lifelike than the living, a dream which consumes the world. ~ Angela Carter

I'm under five feet; I'm very small, 4'11 1/2. ~ Jacki Weaver

At the age of four, what prompted me to wake, dress and wander down the corridor of our family home and out into the street at dawn, I cannot say. A mystery to myself, I obeyed rules and directives of which I was unaware. All I knew was the feel of wet grass under my feet, the crisp air filling my lungs and the play of dappled light through the trees, strewing clothing as I made my way down the street. Thoughts of direction and safety never enter the mind of a child locked in an Autistic fog - for them there is only the sensing. ~ Rachael Lee Harris

Safety is relative. You can be so close to shore that you can practically feel it under your feet, when you suddenly find yourself breaking apart on the rocks. ~ Jodi Picoult

But the thing that really convinces me that the apocalypse is here is the crunching of smartphones under my feet. ~ Susan Ee

I never said I didn't identify with Lily," she went on, her voice clear and her own. "I think in some way she's the heart of the book. And her transformation at the end, when she's finally able to finish her painting, after she doesn't have anything holding her back…it's one of the most important scenes in the novel. It's when she finally realises who she is."

Mr Whitley nodded vaguely, pacing the length of a square-paned window overlooking the courtyard below.

"And what was it?" he asked deliberately. "What do you think was holding her back all that time?"

Olivia looked down at her feet, feeling every pair of eyes in the class burning holes into the top of her head. Miles's mushroom loafers were fidgeting under the chair beside her, and she felt him holding his breathe. Her heart was pounding, but this time it was different. Everybody in the room was waiting for her, and that was okay. This time she had things to say.

"The past," Olivia answered finally. "The past was holding her back. ~ Alexandra Bullen

Walking I am unbound, and find that precious unity of life and imagination, that silent outgoing self, which is so easy to loose, but which a high moments seems to start up again from the deepest rhythms of my own body. How often have I had this longing for an infinite walk - of going unimpeded, until the movement of my body as I walk fell into the flight of streets under my feet - until I in my body and the world in its skin of earth were blended into a single act of knowing. ~ Alfred Kazin

It's a wonder they can sit down at all, and when they walk, nothing touches their legs under the billowing skirts, except their shifts and stockings. They are like swans, drifting along on unseen feet; or else like the jellyfish in the waters of the rocky harbour near our house, when I was little, before I ever made the long sad journey across the ocean. They were bell-shaped and ruffled, gracefully waving and lovely under the sea; but if they washed up on the beach and dried out in the sun there was nothing left of them. And that is what the ladies are like: mostly water. ~ Margaret Atwood

I can't tell you what I look like. I look in the mirror and see
nothing but space. Space reflecting space, that's what the
mirror shows. It figures because Grandmamma said I was
nothing but dirt. Dirt under her feet she'd say. Dirt she needed
to keep kicking out of the way. Grandmamma said I wasn't
sweeping-up kind of dirt; I was the kind of dirt you needed to
kick and scrape off the bottom of your shoes. ~ Jan Fink

It's Never Too Late for Rock'N'Roll

It may be too late to learn ancient Greek
Under a canopy of gnats
It may be too late to sail to Mozambique
With a psychotic cat
It may be too late to find a cure
Too late to save your soul

It may be too late to lose the heat
It may be too late to find your feet
It may be too late to draw a map
To the high desert of your heart
It may be too late to lose the poor
It's never too late for rock'n'roll

It may be too late to dance like Fred Astaire
Or Michael Jackson come to that
It may be too late to climb the stair
And find the key under your mat
It may be too late to think that you're
Never too late for rock'n'roll

We have to believe a couple of good thieves can still seize the day
We have to believe we can still clear the way
We have to believe we've found some common ground
We have to believe we have to believe
We can lose those last twenty pounds ~ Paul Muldoon

Handguns were in-room weapons. Under expert control in high-pressure situations the average range for a successful engagement was about eleven feet. ~ Lee Child

Very quietly, James slipped out of bed and shrugged into his bathrobe. The stone floor was cool under his feet as he stood and listened, tilting his head. He turned slowly, and as he looked toward the door, the figure there moved. He hadn't seen it appear, it was simply there, floating, where a moment before there had been darkness. James startled and backed into his bed, almost falling backwards onto it. Then he recognized the ghostly shape. It was the same wispy, white figure he'd seen chase the interloper off the school grounds, the ghostly shape that had come to look like a young man as it came back to the castle. In the darkness of the doorway, the figure seemed much brighter than it had appeared in the morning sunlight. It was wispy and shifting, with only the barest suggestion of its human shape. It spoke again without moving. ~ G. Norman Lippert