Slightly Damned Quotes

Thrice damned she howls like Cerberus to the night
Guarding virtues that lie like forgotten stains
On oaken floors that pave the willow lined paths of the past
That lead to a meadow filled with the detritus of wasted love
Rotting under a forgotten sun that no longer shines
In a heart gone cold therein lies the haste of anger. ~ Neil Leckman

Every time Jimmy Scott sings, it's the same but slightly different. I don't know how he does that or where he gets that from. I think it's instinct. Nothing he does is by chance; he's in complete control of what he's doing. He's just beautiful and unique. ~ Sufjan Stevens

He shifted. She kept her back to him as she felt him move closer. The warmth of him slowly fitted along her spine. It was like sinking into a bath. His words brushed the back of her neck: "Just to keep you warm," he said, a question in his tone.
"You say that we're friends."
"Yes."
"Have we done this before?"
Another pause. "No."
Her shaking quieted to a shiver. She found that she'd moved even closer to him, had sealed herself against him. His heart beat fast against her back. He held her, and the weight of his arm made her feel more solid, more real, less ready to shatter into mirrorlike pieces. She calmed, relaxing into his warmth.
She still didn't sleep. Neither did he. She could feel his wakefulness. She thought, fleetingly, that it was like him not to fall asleep before she did. She didn't know how she could believe this to be true. It was hard to reconcile with the one memory she had of him: his face in the market, across a distance. An enemy's mouth, enemy's eyes.
But he was here, he had saved her, and he'd asked nothing of her except to remember, and had stopped asking even for that. She knew his scent. Knew that she liked it. His hand reached to touch the pulse in her neck. He kept his fingers there, slightly too firm to be gentle, as if he doubted she was alive.
Had they really never shared a bed? No. She would remember that. Wouldn't she? ~ Marie Rutkoski

I don't mean that you're a bad friend or anything. But you're slightly tortured, and the way you're tortured is sometimes also painful for, like, everyone around you ~ John Green

I love you,' Marius whispered suddenly, passionately as a mortal man might. 'I have always loved you. I wish that I could believe in anything other than love at this moment; but I can't. ~ Anne Rice

Money is your means of survival. The verdict you pronounce upon the source of your livelihood is the verdict you pronounce upon your life. If the source is corrupt, you have damned your own existence. ~ Ayn Rand

Charter schools are just public schools on a slightly longer leash. A dog on a long leash is still a dog on a leash. ~ Marshall Fritz

The dead are hard to look at. Their faces shimmer. They all look slightly angry or confused. they will come up to you and speak, but their voices sound like chatter, like bats twittering. Once they realize you can't understand them, they frown and move away.
The dead aren't scary. They're just sad. ~ Rick Riordan

There is much asked and only so much I think I can or should answer, and so, in this post I would like to give a few thoughts on what seemed to be the overwhelming question: "WHY?"
And here is the best answer I can give: Because.
Because sometimes, life is damned unfair.
Because sometimes, we lose people we love and it hurts deeply.
Because sometimes, as the writer, you have to put your characters in harm's way and be willing to go there if it is the right thing for your book, even if it grieves you to do it.
Because sometimes there aren't really answers to our questions except for what we discover, the meaning we assign them over time.
Because acceptance is yet another of life's "here's a side of hurt" lessons and it is never truly acceptance unless it has cost us something to arrive there.
Why, you ask? Because, I answer.
Inadequate yet true. ~ Libba Bray

Men came in and dragged us apart. It took us five minutes to bring Nora to. She sat up holding her cheek and looked around the room until she saw Morelli, nippers on one wrist, standing between two detectives. Morelli's face was a mess: the coppers had worked him over a little just for the fun of it. Nora glared at me. "You damned fool," she said, "you didn't have to knock me cold. I knew you'd take him, but I wanted to see it."
One of the coppers laughed. "Jesus," he said admiringly, "there's a woman with hair on her chest. ~ Dashiell Hammett

As my father always says, there's no shame in being poor, but it can be damned inconvenient. ~ Christine Pope

I find it odd seeing a DJ playing to huge audiences. I know that people have been doing it for a while, but the fact that it's been embraced so much in America now and it's become like this new, big thing, I find it slightly odd. ~ Martin Gore

There are only three kinds of kisses in this world: secret ones that nobody sees, the fake ones that everybody sees, and the real ones that only two people see. This one was one of those and I'll be damned, but it rocked my friggin' world. ~ C.M. Stunich

...I think everything has value, absolute value, a child, a house, a day's work, the sky. But nothing will save us. We were never meant to be saved." "What were we meant for then?" "To love the whole damned world. ~ Jane Rule

The most dangerous of all falsehoods is a slightly distorted truth. ~ Georg Christoph Lichtenberg

Thank you," he said. Luce felt her lips quiver and her eyes burn.
Before she knew what she was doing, she fell into Cam's
arms, felt his hands wrap around her back.
When his chin rested on the top of her head, she began to weep. He let her cry. Held her close. He whispered,
"You're so brave." Then Cam's arms shifted and his chest pulled lightly away. For a second, she felt cold and exposed, but then another chest, another pair of arms replaced Cam's. And she knew without opening her eyes
that it was Daniel. No other body in the universe fit hers so well.
"Mind if I cut in?" he asked softly.
"Daniel - " She clenched her fists and squeezed her arms around him, wanting to squeeze away the pain.
"Shhh." He held her like that for what might have been hours, rocking her slightly, cradling her in his wings until her tears had tapered off and the
weight in her heart had eased enough that she could breathe without sniffling. ~ Lauren Kate

No damned thing from the vasty deeps is going to get the better of me in my own home. ~ Simon R. Green

Got used to being slightly sad! ~ George Saunders

Decebel could admit now that maybe he had slightly overreacted when he tore into the room and found two males rifling through her suit case. So maybe he didn't have to throw Dragos through a wall. And, yeah, he could've kept from tossing Dorian right on top of Dragos. But in that moment his wolf had taken over, and all he could think was that her scent was around unmated males, that they were touching her things – things only he should know about.
Decebel had glossed over that little tidbit, about why on earth he thought he had a right to know about her underwear.He'd felt that if he didn't get her things and her scent from their room he was going to kill someone, no doubt about it. One of those pups would have died that night. ~ Quinn Loftis

I'll be damned. You found him."
"Thanks to you," I said.
Adrian glanced over at me. A smile started to form - and then instantly dried up. "What happened to your face?"
"Oh.Marcus hit me."
I'd never seen Adrian move so fast. Marcus had no chance to react, probably because he was exhausted from our earlier encounter. Adrian shoved Marcus up against a wall and - to my complete and utter astonishment - punched Marcus.
Adrian had once joked that he never dirtied his hands, so this was something I never could have prepared myself for. In fact, if Adrian was going to attack someone, I would've expected something magical and spirit-driven.
Yet . . . as I watched him, I could see that anything as thoughtful as magic was far from Adrian's mind. He had kicked into primal mode. See a threat. Go after it.
It was yet another surprising - yet fascinating - side of the enigma that was Adrian Ivashkov. ~ Richelle Mead

The world won't get more or less terrible if we're indoors somewhere with a mug of hot chocolate,' Kim said. 'Though it's possible it will seem slightly less terrible if there are marshmallows in the hot chocolate. ~ Kamila Shamsie

Nothing is whole, not for too damned long. The world is half night. ~ Peter Straub

Hash Brown Casserole Servings: 10-12 What you need: 32 oz bag of frozen hash browns 8 oz sour cream 10.5 oz cream of mushroom soup ¼ cup finely chopped onion 2 cups shredded cheddar cheese ½ cup butter, melted Salt and pepper, to taste What to do: Slightly break apart the frozen hash browns. Spray your slow cooker with non-stick spray. In your slow cooker, mix together the hash browns, sour cream, cream of mushroom soup, onion, cheese, and melted butter. Sprinkle the mixture with salt and pepper and cook for 4-5 hours on low. ~ Hannie P. Scott

Perhaps we should wait outside in the hall, Dedalus," murmured Hestia. She clearly felt that it would be tactless for them to remain in the room while Harry and the Dursleys exchanged loving, possibly tearful farewells.
"There's no need," Harry muttered, but Uncle Vernon made any further explanation unnecessary by saying loudly,
"Well, this is good-bye, then, boy."
He swung his right arm upward to shake Harry's hand, but at the last moment seemed unable to face it, and merely closed his fist and began swinging it backward and forward like a metronome.
"Ready, Diddy?" asked Aunt Petunia, fussily checking the clasp of her handbag so as to avoid looking at Harry altogether.
Dudley did not answer, but stood there with his mouth slightly ajar, reminding Harry a little of the giant, Grawp.
"Come along, then," said Uncle Vernon.
He had already reached the living room door when Dudley mumbled, "I don't understand."
"What don't you understand, popkin?" asked Aunt Petunia, looking up at her son.
Dudley raised a large, hamlike hand to point at Harry.
"Why isn't he coming with us?"
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia froze where they stood, staring at Dudley as though he had just expressed a desire to become a ballerina.
"What?" said Uncle Vernon loudly.
"Why isn't he coming too?" asked Dudley.
"Well, he--he doesn't want to," said Uncle Vernon, turning to glare at Harry and adding, "You don't want to, do you?"
"Not in ~ J.K. Rowling

I watched a squirrel fall from a rather high branch. Upon hitting the ground, he bounced slightly, paused, shook himself vigorously and then immediately scampered back up to the very same place on the very same branch from which he'd fallen. There are some that might call that stupidity. Then there are others like myself who would call that tenacity. And while I generally have no interest in being a squirrel, in this particular respect I wouldn't mind being like one. ~ Craig D. Lounsbrough

I'll be damned," I say, then realize I kinda already am. ~ Daryl Banner

Where is outrage from the National Rifle Association? Where's the damned NRA? The NRA claims to believe the Second Amendment of the Constitution of the United States grants all of our citizens the right to survive and protect their families with any gun they want. I guess that's only true when those citizens are Caucasian! Does the Second Amendment apply if you're a black man driving through a white neighborhood? ~ Mark M. Bello

When a man is unhappy he writes damned bad poetry, I find. ~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

I will ask you once to put the dark-skinned girl down and leave."
Crandle snorted. "And if we don't?"
That one eye narrowed slightly. "Then, long after we are gone to the goddess, the grandchildren of the grandchildren of those who witness will whisper fearful stories of the way I broke you. ~ Joe Abercrombie

The imitation lives we see on TV and in the movies whisper the idea that human existence consists of revelations and abrupt changes of heart; by the time we've reached full adulthood, I think, this is an idea we have on some level come to accept. Such things may happen from time to time, but I think that for the most part it's a lie. Life's changes come slowly…the whole idea of curious cats attaining satisfaction seemed slightly absurd. The world rarely finishes its conversations. ~ Stephen King

I understand what an addiction is," he said in a low, hard voice. "Not everyone is that weak."
Zane's body went totally still. "Everyone is that weak. Even guys who fuck a different woman every night just to forget somebody else."
Ty's shoulders tensed slightly as he looked back at the wall.
"Touché," he said abruptly. ~ Abigail Roux

The race will go to the curious, the slightly mad, and those with an un-satiated passion for learning and dare-deviltry. ~ Tom Peters

Goldstein found that on average, the people in his experiment "enjoy more expensive wines slightly less. ~ Steven D. Levitt

And then, from behind me: "I thought about you. Every day."
I froze, my hand still holding the canvas flap.
Cal's voice was slightly hoarse as he continued. "Three weeks is a long time to wonder where someone is. All that time, I thought maybe I'd done the wrong thing, telling you to find the Brannicks.
I turned around then. I wanted to make a joke, or say something sarcastic, anything that would cut the tension enveloping us. Instead, I said, "I thought about you, too. ~ Rachel Hawkins

She just eyed them coolly, as if they were nothing to her, as if their nothingness surprised and slightly repelled her. ~ Anne Ursu

The pleasures of the damned
are limited to brief moments
of happiness:
like eyes in the look of a dog,
like a square of wax,
like a fire taking city hall,
the county,
the continent,
like fire taking the hair
of maidens and monsters;
and hawks buzzing in peach trees,
the sea running between their claws,
Time
drunk and damp,
everything burning,
everything wet,
everything fine. ~ Charles Bukowski

They had met one another, at first not very often, throughout the heady autumn of the first London air raids. Never had a season been more felt; one bought the poetic sense of it with the sense of death. Out of mists of morning charred by the smoke from ruins each day rose to a height of unmisty glitter; between the last of sunset and first note of the siren the darkening glassy tenseness of evening was drawn fine. From the moment of waking you tasted the sweet autumn not less because of an acridity on the tongue and nostrils; and as the singed dust settled and smoke diluted you felt more and more called upon to observe daytime as a pure and curious holiday from fear. All through London the ropings-off of dangerous tracts of streets made islands of exalted if stricken silence, and people crowded against the ropes to admire the sunny emptiness on the other side. The diversion of traffic out of blocked main thoroughfares into byways, the unstopping phatasmagoric streaming of lorries, buses, vans, drays, taxis past modest windows and quiet doorways set up an overpowering sense of London's organic power – somewhere there was a source from which heavy motion boiled, surged and, not to be damned up, force itself into new channels. ~ Elizabeth Bowen

If we are not allowed to deal with small problems, we will be destroyed by slightly larger ones. When we come to understand this, we live our lives not avoiding problems, but welcoming them them as challenges that will strengthen us so that we can be victorious in the future. ~ Jim Stovall

When he admires the man he calls his father--a man who is slightly above 'the scum of the earth', what does that say about the man who admire him? ~ Terry A O'Neal

You are a terrible liar, did you know that?" He straightened, tugging slightly at his waistcoat as he lifted his chin. "Actually, I'm an excellent liar. But what I'm really good at is appearing appropriately sheepish and adorable after I'm caught." What, Penelope wondered, was she meant to say to that? Because surely there was no one more adorably sheepish (sheepishly adorable?) than Colin Bridgerton with his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes flitting along the ceiling, and his lips puckered into an innocent whistle. ~ Julia Quinn

Laugh all you want and cry all you want and whistle at pretty men in the street and to hell with anybody who thinks you're a damned fool! ~ Armistead Maupin

A 5'5", 182-pound, 43-year-old man wearing khaki shorts and a UCLA sweatshirt runs to Nicolas Cage in a manner he will spend the rest of the night describing to his slightly bored but equally boring date as "ambushing." No one else is on the street and Nicolas Cage is unable to avoid the man, who wants a picture with his "brand new Droid." As the man, who actually seems to be vibrating and hovering in an almost hummingbird-like way, adjusts his stance for the third attempt at a picture his crotch lightly brushes Nicolas Cage's upper thigh, causing his face to shift from "bemused resignation" to, strangely, "serene bliss," for what will become the man's inaugural Facebook profile picture. ~ Megan Boyle

If you came from Mars and tried to analyse British or American society through novels, you'd think our society was preponderantly full of middle-aged, slightly alcoholic, middle-class, intellectual men, most of whom are divorced from their families and have nothing to do with children. ~ Mark Haddon

I think the fashion industry was slightly put off by people they didn't know. They were presented with things like 20-gatefold color brochures. ~ Natalie Massenet