Smoke Jumpers Quotes

He and his brothers were heroes at heart - even if they were all bad boy on the outside ~ Anne Marsh

Maybe they had become volcano smoke jumpers, diving into an unknown risk to do a dangerous job because, in part, it was a social good and, in part, because they loved the big show. ~ Dick Thompson

On the day after 9/11, I walking through the smoke and the smells of New York. There were knots of policemen everywhere. As I went past one officer, he called out: "Hi, Magneto." That's an indication of X-Men's extraordinary reach. ~ Ian McKellen

Racists are not the pipe-smoking type, I thought to myself. ~ John Howard Griffin

Courage is fire, and bullying is smoke. ~ Benjamin Disraeli

The rockets set the bony meadows afire, turned rock to lava, turned wood to charcoal, transmuted water to steam, made sand and silica into green glass which lay like shattered mirrors reflecting the invasion, all about. The rockets came like drums, beating in the night. The rockets came like locusts, swarming and settling in blooms of rosy smoke. ~ Ray Bradbury

This fitness thing is blown out of proportion. What am I going to do on a treadmill - smoke a cigarette and drink a diet Coke? ~ John Daly

I smoked this joint and then it hit me. I thought, what you gotta do is play your own simply blues. ~ Iggy Pop

THIS SHOP IS HAUNTED by the ghosts
Of all great literature, in hosts;
We sell no fakes or trashes.
Lovers of books are welcome here,
No clerks will babble in your ear,
Please smoke
but don't drop ashes!
Browse as long as you like.
Prices of all books plainly marked.
If you want to ask questions, you'll find the proprietor
where the tobacco smoke is thickest.
We pay cash for books.
We have what you want, though you may not know you want it.
Malnutrition of the reading faculty is a serious thing.
Let us prescribe for you.
By R. & H. MIFFLIN, ~ Christopher Morley

I do not believe that the federal government should treat adults who choose to smoke marijuana as criminals. ~ Barney Frank

DEAR MISS MANNERS:
Should you tell your mother something if it is important when she is talking to company? I am six.
GENTLE READER:
Yes, you should (after saying "Excuse me"). Here are some of the things that are important to tell your mother, even though she is talking to company:
"Mommy, the kitchen is full of smoke."
"Daddy's calling from Tokyo."
"Kristen fell out of her crib and I can't put her back."
"There's a policeman at the door and he says he wants to talk to you."
"I was just reaching for my ball, and the goldfish bowl fell over."
Now, here are some things that are not important, so they can wait until your mother's company has gone home:
"Mommy, I'm tired of playing blocks. What do I do now?"
"The ice-cream truck is coming down the street."
"Can I give Kristen the rest of my applesauce?"
"I can't find my crayons."
"When are we going to have lunch? I'm hungry. ~ Judith Martin

Children believe what we tell them. They have complete faith in us. They believe that a rose plucked from a garden can plunge a family into conflict. They believe that the hands of a human beast will smoke when he slays a victim, and that this will cause him shame when a young maiden takes up residence in his home. They believe a thousand other simple things.
I ask of you a little of this childlike sympathy and, to bring us luck, let me speak four truly magic words, childhood's "Open Sesame":
Once upon a time ... ~ Jean Cocteau

Don't look so grim. When you get home, I'm sure Randall will buy you all the rings you want. One for every day of the week," Oscar said, thick with sarcasm, as they walked back toward the harbor.
"I don't care about the ring!" Camille shouted. She stopped walking and turned to Oscar. "I'm sorry, it's just that…"
Oscar patiently waited for her to finish her sentence. Camille looked away, embarrassed. She had scraped Randall's skin with the ring, too. It had been one of their rare moments alone. He'd run his fingers down her back, nibbled on her neck, and she'd waited for her legs to turn to warm butter. She'd waited to feel the desire to kiss him. But the feelings hadn't come. Camille had swept her hand up to stop him, and the ring had left a puffy red scratch on his arm.
Oscar watched her fumble for words, his expression one of concern.
"Never mind," she said quickly and stepped up onto a raised sidewalk, out of the mud.
"Never mind what?"
"It's private."
He continued walking in the street, his head level with hers.
"Private between who?"
"Between me and Randall. You wouldn't understand," she said and lifted her skirt as she descended back down into the muddy street where the sidewalk ran out.
"And why is that?" he asked, sounding put off. Daphne's place came into view. The air smelled of bitter salt water and of wood smoke curling up from the kitchen chimney.
"Oh, Oscar, you're a man of the sea. What could you possibly ~ Angie Frazier

There is no point to any of this. It's all just a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of neat escapes. So I take pleasure in the details. You know, a quarter pounder with cheese, those are good; the sky about ten minutes before it starts to rain, the moment where your laughter becomes a crackle…and I sit back and I smoke my camel straight and I ride my own melt. ~ Troy Dyer

I have something to tell you non-smokers that I know for a fact that you don't know, and I feel it's my duty to pass on information at all times. Ready? ... Non-smokers die every day ... Enjoy your evening. See, I know that you entertain this eternal life fantasy because you've chosen not to smoke, but let me be the 1st to POP that bubble and bring you hurling back to reality ... You're dead too. ~ Bill Hicks

But clouds bellied out in the sultry heat, the sky cracked open with a crimson gash, spewed flame-and the ancient forest began to smoke. By morning there was a mass of booming, fiery tongues, a hissing, crashing, howling all around, half the sky black with smoke, and the bloodied sun just barely visible.

And what can little men do with their spades, ditches, and pails? The forest is no more, it was devoured by fire: stumps and ash. Perhaps illimitable fields will be plowed here one day, perhaps some new, unheard-of wheat will ripen here and men from Arkansas with shaven faces will weigh in their palms the heavy golden grain. Or perhaps a city will grow up-alive with ringing sound and motion, all stone and crystal and iron-and winged men will come here flying over seas and mountains from all ends of the world. But never again the forest, never again the blue winter silence and the golden silence of summer. And only the tellers of tales will speak in many-colored patterned words about what had been, about wolves and bears and stately green-coated century-old grandfathers, about old Russia; they will speak about all this to us who have seen it with our own eyes ten years - a hundred years! - ago, and to those others, the winged ones, who will come in a hundred years to listen and to marvel at it all as at a fairy tale. ("In Old Russia") ~ Yevgeny Zamyatin

To be thin and to stay really thin, sometimes some people literally do coke all the time. Some people smoke cigarettes instead of eating. That's crazy. But that's 'okay' because you look healthier. ~ Beth Ditto

the smell of canals and cigarette smoke, all the people sitting outside the cafés drinking beer, saying their r's and g's in a way I'd never learn. I missed the future. Obviously I knew even before this recurrence that I'd never grow old with Augustus Waters. But thinking about Lidewij and her boyfriend, I felt robbed. I would probably never again see the ocean from thirty thousand feet above, so far up you can't make out the waves or any boats, so that the ocean is a great and endless monolith. I could imagine it. I could remember it. But I couldn't see it again, and it occurred to me that the voracious ambition of humans is never sated by dreams coming true, because there is always the thought that everything might be done better and again. That is probably true even if you live to be ninety. ~ John Green

Colors shift like smoke within the branch beneath our feet. Sprites jump from leaf to leaf, leaving sprinklings of glittery dust in the air behind them. Droplets of water are strung like pearls from the silver strands of a spider's web. Bluebottle glow-bugs stick to the leaves and branches, lighting up the night with their blue-green bodies. And high above us, clouds are draped like sashes of color across the sky. Amethyst, azure, jade. ~ Rachel Morgan

What was it you called me? Hell's overlord who wields his lucky pen like it's… what was that last part?"

Enough! Elise's tolerance disappeared in a sulfurous cloud of smoke. "Hell's overlord who wields his lucky pen like it's his staff of masculinity," she ground out, then lowered her head and furiously pounded on the laptop's keyboard.

Luc laughed and the hairs at the nape of her neck prickled. "Staff of masculinity. How could I have forgotten that? You could have just said - "

Her cheeks burned red hot. "I made that up before I knew you liked to beat your lucky pen against the desk."

He turned in his seat and smiled the smile that never failed to raise her body temperature a hundred degrees. "And it was that particular phrase which made your habit of sucking on pen caps all the more bearable."

She glared at him and his smile widened. "Don't make me get up and come near your desk, Lucien Masters."

"Getting up and coming near my desk are the least of my worries," he replied in a husky, Southern rumble. ~ Elijana Kindel

Well, the cigar I smoke takes two hours."

"When a man loves a woman....O to have such a lover..."

"I gave up a $100,000 lifestyle to take this position! ~ John Neumann

On his method for lighting up: "Nothing special, but I do blunts, cigarellos, pipes, bongs, bowls, I'll smoke out of an old Timberland boot if you can rig it up and get some weed some out of it. I'll smoke that. Man, I've been saying that for years, so I might just try to make me a Timberland boot contraption that you can smoke weed out of. I think I'm gonna try it." ~ Devin The Dude

Even though I smoke, just because I'm a dumbass doesn't mean anyone else has to be. ~ Gerald McRaney

The Luxembourg is within five minutes' walk of the rue Notre Dame des Champs, and there he sat under the shadow of a winged god, and there he had sat for an hour, poking holes in the dust and watching the steps which lead from the northern terrace to the fountain. The sun hung, a purple globe, above the misty hills of Meudon. Long streamers of clouds touched with rose swept low on the western sky, and the dome of the distant Invalides burned like an opal through the haze. Behind the Palace the smoke from a high chimney mounted straight into the air, purple until it crossed the sun, where it changed to a bar of smouldering fire. High above the darkening foliage of the chestnuts the twin towers of St. Sulpice rose, an ever-deepening silhouette. ~ Robert W. Chambers

The sand of the desert is sodden red, --
Red with the wreck of a square that broke; --
The Gatling's jammed and the Colonel dead,
And the regiment blind with dust and smoke.
The river of death has brimmed his banks,
And England's far, and Honour a name,
But the voice of a schoolboy rallies the ranks:
'Play up! play up! and play the game! ~ Henry Newbolt

Katarina wasn't afraid of Baden. Not anymore.

He took a step to the side, intending to move around her. Oh, no. She flattened her hands on his shoulders, keeping him in place.

"I want to know what's wrong with you." She said. "Tell me."

He snapped his teeth at her in a show of dominance. "You think you want to know my problem. You're wrong."

Her tone dry, she said, "I'm so glad you know my mind better than I do."

"Very well. I need sex." He threw the words at her as if they were weapons. "Badly."

Whoa. Blindside!

Heart pounding, she jerked her hands away from him. "Sex...from me?"

"Yesss." A hiss. "Only from you."

Only. Amazing how one little word could send pleasure soaring through her, warming her. "You told me never to touch you." Which she'd just done, she realized. My bad.

"I've changed my mind." His gaze dropped, lingered on her lips.

Burning her... "But you and I...we're a different species." As if that mattered to her body. Gimme!


He took a step closer, invading her personal space. "We'll fit, I promise you."


Tristo hrmenych! The raspy quality of his voice, all smoke and gravel...she shivered with longing. Must resist his allure.

But...but...why? Before she'd committed to Peter, she'd dated around, had made out in movie theaters, cars and on couches. She'd liked kissing and touching and "riding the belt buckle," as ~ Gena Showalter

Put off this sloth,' the master said, 'for shame!
Sitting on feather-pillows, lying reclined
Beneath the blanket is no way to fame -
Fame, without which man's life wastes out of mind,
Leaving on earth no more memorial
Than foam in water or smoke upon the wind ~ Dante Alighieri

I don't want to smoke on screen, as I will be sending a wrong message to my fans, and I appeal to my costars too, to avoid smoking scenes if possible. ~ Mahesh Babu

In the slanting light of late autumn, the gestures and bodies of people are more expressive the less meaning they have. Men stand on street corners staring at the emptiness of the day. They spit on the sidewalk and smoke cigarettes. That's the present ... Time, approaching from afar, is like the air that someone else has already breathed. ~ Andrzej Stasiuk

They fire lots of bullets very, very quickly. Quicker than anything else."
I looked up and around the bedroom, the mismatched furniture, the weirdly firm light. "Why? What could you hunt with those? What could they have to do with anything?"
"I don't know," he replied. "That's what's so unnerving."
I rubbed a hand to my forehead, feeling an ache beginning to build behind my skull. "Armand."
His eyes went to mine.
I had to say this carefully; I had no wish to add to his despair, but I couldn't let it go. "Do you think…do you suppose it's possible that your father might…mean to do you any harm?"
But I'd actually made him smile. A real one, too, even if it came acerbic and thin. "With a pair of Vickers? Not unless he means to mount them in the hallway and spry me with bullets when I'm not paying attention. Seems like rather a spot of work for him. Surely even an unwelcome heir is better than none."
I returned his smile as I pulled away my hand. "I think we need to teach you how to Turn to smoke, just in case. It's a handy thing to be able to vanish in a hurry."
His smile widened, but there was no humor left to it. "Handy." He fell back against the blankets of the bed, his eyes gone shiny and hard. "If I could vanish into smoke, Eleanore, I'd leave this place and never return. That's a promise."
"Just like Rue," I said softly. ~ Shana Abe

He loaded his soldiers into boats, sailed to the enemy's country, unloaded soldiers and equipment, then gave the order to burn the ships that had carried them. Addressing his men before the first battle, he said, "You see the boats going up in smoke. That means that we cannot leave these shores alive unless we win! We now have no choice - we win, or we perish! They won. Every ~ Napoleon Hill

Like a ghost that dances on the tip of a lit cigarette,
I know what romance is, but it hasn't happened yet.
Watch it floating up to heaven only knows,
Disappearing before you get too close-
It's only smoke. You might say a flame was burning, only smoke--
but my heart is more discerning,
I keep dreaming of a fire
But when I wake up to the cold--
It's only smoke.

Eyes are hypnotizing when they hold you within their embrace.
Words are mezmerizing even when they've got nothing to say.
The game is charming in an empty kind of way.
What's the harm in asking me to play?
It's only smoke. You might say a flame was burning, only smoke--
but my heart is more discerning,
I keep dreaming of a fire
But when I wake up to the cold--
It's only smoke. ~ Jane Monheit

To the jumpers overhearing the conversation it was obvious - Troop had come down with another case of dragon fever. The Don Quixote of smokejumping was once again engaged in mortal combat with this, his latest windmill. ~ Murry A. Taylor

Every inch of space was used. As the road narrowed, signs receded upwards and changed to the vertical. Businesses simply soared from ground level and hung out vaster, more fascinatingly illuminated shingles than competitors. We were still in a traffic tangle, but now the road curved. Shops crowded the pavements and became homelier. Vegetables, spices, grocery produce in boxes or hanging from shop lintels, meats adangle - as always, my ultimate ghastliness - and here and there among the crowds the alarming spectacle of an armed Sikh, shotgun aslant, casually sitting at a bank entrance. And markets everywhere. To the right, cramped streets sloped down to the harbor. To the left, as we meandered along the tramlines through sudden dense markets of hawkers' barrows, the streets turned abruptly into flights of steps careering upwards into a bluish mist of domestic smoke, clouds of washing on poles, and climbing. Hong Kong had the knack of building where others wouldn't dare. ~ Jonathan Gash

His name tasted of fire and wings, of curling smoke, of subtlety and strength and the rasping whisper of scales. He eyed me and said stiffly, Don't land yourself into a boiling-pot, and as difficult as you may find it, try and present a respectable appearance. ~ Naomi Novik

The people ... " Winter whispered. "Are going to die," the man said, watching coldly. "It's a shame; I didn't mean for it to get quite that out of control. I let my anger get away from me. I had intended to scorch the ground around us, leave you in the middle of a smoking crater, but when people interfere with me, when they try to shake me down, take what's mine, it makes me ... so angry." Winter watched the scorched ground as the black smoke started to rise. The man shook him, diverting Winter's attention back to him. "Listen to me. ~ Robert J. Crane

And as the train whistled its imminent departure, a small girl wearing neat plaits and someone else's shoes climbed its iron stairs. Smoke filled the platform, people waved and hollered, a stray dog ran barking through the crowds. Nobody noticed as the little girl stepped over the shadowed threshold; not even Aunt Ada, who some might've expected to be sheperherding her orphaned niece towards her uncertain future. And so, when the essence of light and life that had been Vivien Longmeyer contracted itself for safekeeping and disappeared deep inside her, the world kept moving and nobody saw it happen. ~ Kate Morton

So sorry for your loss," Grandma said to Monica. "My condolences."
"Yeah, whatever," Monica said.
Grandma leaned into the casket for a close look.
"What are you gonna do, kiss him?" Monica asked.
"I was trying to see where they cut him up when they took his brain out," Grandma said.
Monica sucked in some fake smoke. "You'd have to unzip his pants for that one. ~ Janet Evanovich

In the modern era, many thinkers began to mistrust faith, viewing it as 'blind' and an enemy of reason. Their watchword was 'reason alone.' One of the difficulties of this stance is that reason cannot test its own reliability, any more than soapstone can test its own hardness. Any argument, accomplished by reasoning, that what reasoning accomplishes can be trusted, would be circular, because it would take for granted the very thing that it was trying to prove.
Suppose I am at the window of a burning building. Although I can hear the firemen calling to me from far below, I cannot see them because of all the smoke. They are telling me to jump. Though I may have every reason to believe that they will catch me in their net, I may not trust them enough to overcome my fear, and so, hesitating, I burn to death. Obviously, my reasons are not the same as trust; faith surpasses reason. Even so they are reasons for trust; though faith surpasses reason, it is not irrational. ~ J. Budziszewski

I was always the type of drug user that I had no moderation. When I was smoking and drinking, I was full on smoking and drinking. And I am also the type of drug user where I do smoke and drink, there's no creativity in terms of my writing process. I would just stare at the paper for hours and nothing would get done. ~ Ryan Lewis

He'd gone too far. He didn't usually talk to women so frankly. Not with them both fully clothed anyway. ~ Amy Andrews

In the sunlight, snow melts, crystals evaporate into a steam, into nothing. In the firelight, vapors dance and vanish. In the core of a volcano, fragile things burst and disappear. The girl, in the gunfire, in the heat, in the concussion, folded like a soft scarf, melted like a crystal figurine. What was left of her, ice, snowflake, smoke, blew away in the wind. The tiller seat was empty. ~ Ray Bradbury

The dark sky.
A hundred million stars.
More stars than I've ever seen before. My eyes let me see farther, but they don't show me the one thing I want to see. I would trade all the stars in the universe if I could just have him back again.

Wind whistles through the trees nearby. Birdsong weaves in and out of the sound.

The hybrids emerge from the communication building, heads tilted to the sky.

And then we see the end.
Godspeed's engine was nuclear; who knows what fueled the biological weapons. But they explode together. In space, they don't make the familiar mushroom cloud. They don't make the boom! of an exploding bomb.

There is, against the dark sky, a brief flash of light. It is filled with colors, like a nebula or the aurora borealis, bursting like a popped bubble.

Nothing else - no sound of an explosion, no tremors in the earth, no smell of smoke. Not here, on the surface of the planet.
Nothing else to signify Elder's death.
Just light.
And then it's gone.

And then he's gone. ~ Beth Revis