Stitch Quotes

I could not hold my breath for seven minutes. I couldn't even make it to one. I once tried to run a mile in seven minutes after hearing some athletes could do it in four but failed spectacularly when a side stitch crippled me about halfway in.
However, there was one thing I managed to do in seven minutes that most would say is quite impressive: I became queen.
By seven tiny minutes I beat my brother, Ahren, into the world, so the throne that ought to have been his was mine. Had I been born a generation earlier, it wouldn't have mattered. Ahren was the male, so Ahren would have been the heir.
Alas, Mom and Dad couldn't stand to watch their firstborn be stripped of a title by an unfortunate but rather lovely set of breasts. So they changed the law, and the people rejoiced, and I was trained day by day to become the next ruler of Illéa. ~ Kiera Cass

My life has been like a battlefield, a war that could never be won unless I had her with me, and the day she died my battlefront stepped down and threw away their shields, allowing the gunshots to slip through the second her heart stopped beating. From that moment onwards I was left wounded, and for those seventeen years without her my wounds bled-wounds no stitch could ever repair. ~ Rebecah McManus

What if I can't find it? What if I can't find that particular pumping-station? The breath tore in and out of his lungs, hot and bloody-tasting in the back of his throat. A stitch was sinking into his side. His buttocks sang where the rock had hit him. Beverly had said Henry and his friends meant to kill them, and Ben believed it now, yes he did. He came to ~ Stephen King

And that's what we'll do every day. If you or your friends spray-paint obscenities on our walls, we'll scrub them off, and the people will come. if you break our windows, we'll fix them, and the people will come. If you hurt us, we'll wash off the blood, slap on some bandages and the people will come ... any wound you inflict, we'll stitch up. We're not going to stop, no matter what you do. This work is too important. Too many lives are at stake. ~ Robert J. Wiersema

Ambient awareness is the experience of knowing what's going on in the lives of other people - what they're thinking about, what they're doing, what they're looking at - by paying attention to the small stray status messages that people are putting online. We're now able to stitch together these fantastic details and mental maps of what is going on in other people's lives. ~ Clive Thompson

I'm going to fuck you until you fall apart...dissolve in my fingers. Then I'll soothe your shattered soul and stitch you back together until everything has new meaning and Cairo is the only word you have for pleasure, remember? ~ Jaden Wilkes

None of the chase scenes that I did had any opticals. We had to do all of that physically. The first thing you have to do is see it in your mind's eye. You have to envision it. Imagine someone knitting a sweater or a scarf. They either have a pattern in front of them, or they see a pattern in their mind's eye. Then it's one stitch at a time. That's what shooting a chase is like. ~ William Friedkin

A stitch in time saves uncontrollable blood loss ~ Simon Haynes

Even if you've taken off every stitch of clothing, you still have your secrets, your history, your true name. It's hard to be really naked. You have to work hard at it. Just getting into a bath isn't being naked, not really. It's just showing skin. ~ Catherynne M Valente

You take a word,
you stitch it to another word,
with threads of your soul.
It's called poetry. ~ Jenim Dibie

To stand up for someone was to stitch your fate into the lining of theirs. ~ Tom Rob Smith

Ranulf searched for something to distract him from what she was doing. Only one topic came to mind.Their kiss.
"About this morning.Your memory is faulty."
Concentrating,Bronwyn was just about to sever the final stitch. "How so?" she murmured.
"I believe you kissed me."
His nearness coupled with the unexpected reminder of their embrace caused her hand to quiver just as she sliced the last stitch, giving him a small scrape.
"Ow! You did that on purpose!"
Bronwyn jumped back. She was no longer nestled between his legs, but neither was she out of his reach. "I did no such thing. Besides,it is a small sratch, so stop disgracing yourself by acting so cowardly," she scolded, waving the sharp blade around as if it was another appendage.
"Cowardly?" Ranulf bellowed, as he jerked the knife out of her hand. "You, angel, should be thanking me for being damn near to a saint! You have to be one of the most difficult women I have ever met."
Bronwyn's chin popped up angrily, her deep blue eyes flashing. "I'm not difficult. You're the one yelling." She turned, grabbed his tunic, and threw it at him. "I'm done.You can get dressed now. ~ Michele Sinclair

Can we discuss this after the wedding?"
"No."
Damn. It was worth a shot.
"Fine." I glanced around the car. How does one ask for privacy in the back of a limo occupied by eight observers? To their credit, my friends did their best impression of quality assurance engineers, checking the seat cushions for stitch durability and picking lint from the carpet. ~ Penny Reid

Once upon a time ...
A journey began,
that would stitch all the worlds together with light. ~ Laini Taylor

I felt something loosen in me, that shouldn't have loosened. A stitch come undone. ~ Gillian Flynn

You can think of your life as being a little like knitting. When you first begin, there is no shape to it, but you keep knitting with some goal in mind - to make a sweater, a sock, or whatever. Every stitch is like a thought that you add to the overall shape of your life. Eventually, thoughts lead to action and the form will emerge, if you can only keep your intent in mind. If you have no clear vision, however, you will end up with a random pile of knotted yarn ~ Ilchi Lee

Yoh: Being popular with guys isn't something you can just stitch together!

Haruna: What?! I Can't?!

Yoh: OF COURSE NOT!

Yoh: Mixing coke, tea and orange juice would taste nasty, right?! That's exactly what you're doing! ~ Kazune Kawahara

The forecast was cloudy with extended periods of consciousness, followed by a stitch in my side and a sense of impending doom swelling to a symphony of demolition ~ Edward Morris

Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten ~ Lilo And Stitch

Books are meat and medicine
and flame and flight and flower
steel, stitch, cloud and clout,
and drumbeats on the air. ~ Gwendolyn Brooks

Wherever she sought solitude, she was never alone. Suddenly that wasn't a bad thing. There was safety in numbers greater than one and sanity in knowing that everyone healed. If everyone has scars, there are two choices. Bleed to death slowly or stitch yourself together. ~ Nicki Salcedo

Alexandra, I can handle my own fucking cock."

Stitch that on a pillow. ~ Kate Meader

They calm me, these Stitch and Bitch sessions ~ T.S. Easton

To me, detective stories are a great solace, a sort of mental knitting, where it doesn't matter if you drop a stitch."

[From a letter to George Lyttelton] ~ Rupert Hart-Davis

I-I've wanted you ever since..." She untied the sash around her waist and let the dressing gown drop to the floor.
God save him, she wore not a stitch of clothing. Every shred of self-control fled. His mind consumed with the tantalizing woman before him. Somehow she was even more beautiful now that he'd remembered. The candlelight flickered amber across her skin. Chestnut tresses slid over her shoulder, framing two perfectly formed breasts, tipped by rose.
Sean licked his lips, those delectable rosebuds would be his second stop. In two strides, he wrapped her in his arms and crushed his body against hers. "For all that is holy, you have claimed my soul, my flesh and my mind. ~ Amy Jarecki

Because of feedback delays within complex systems, by the time a problem becomes apparent it may be unnecessarily difficult to solve. - A stitch in time saves nine. ~ Donella H. Meadows

On historical you take the known facts, dramatize them, and then stitch them together by invention. It's a projective thing. ~ William Monahan

Once Lotari reached his mate's side and gently kissed her hand, the crowd began cheering and whooping for them.
Bastion the dwarf appeared beside Stitch, a handkerchief extended. "Ye blubbering hoofer. Best keep that with you tonight, I doubt this'll be the first tears you'll be a shedding."
Stitch took the cloth and dabbed at his cheeks. "Glad to see you here, Bast."
"Never miss a hoofer gathering. There's always meat and grog. Who in their right mind turns a nose up to such a fare, eh? ~ Jackie Castle

I dream
for an absentee and oft maligned
device - the accident-maker,
the soul-taker, my camera;
its factory guaranteed
third eye, without which I am duly dim
and memory denied. No pictures
for my contrived Arbus to declare,
excepting some stitch of Sexton
manages these sentences
of despair. ~ Kristen Henderson

I am falling in love with you, Laney Keating."
"Don't say that."
"It's true."
"Don't say it," I said miserably, looking away.
"Why?"
Falling for someone is like pulling a loose thread. It happens stitch by stitch. You feel whole most of the time even while the seams pop, the knots loosen, everything that holds you together coming undone. It feels incredible, this opening of yourself to the world. Not like the unraveling it is. Only afterward do you glance down at the tangle of string around your feet that used to be a person who was whole and self-contained and realize that love is not a thing that we create. It's an undoing.
"Because you deserve better," I whispered. ~ Leah Raeder

She sat still, I thought, and yet she traveled. And when one stitches, the mind travels, not the way men do, with ax and oxen through the wilderness, but surely our traveling counted too, as motion. And I thought of the patience of the stitches. Writing a book, I thought, which men often do, but women only rarely, has the posture of sewing. One hand leads, and the other hand helps. And books, like quilts, are made, one word at a time, one stitch at a time. ~ Sena Jeter Naslund

Nineteenth-centuryoperating"theaters"hadmoretodowithmedicalinstructionthanwithsaving patients'lives.Ifyoucould,youstayedoutofthematallcost. Foronething,youwerebeingoperatedonwithoutanesthesia.(Thefirstoperationsunderetherdidn't takeplaceuntil1846.)Surgicalpatientsinthelate1700sandearly1800scouldfeeleverycut,stitch,and probingfinger.Theywereoftenblindfolded - thismayhavebeenoptional,notunlikethefiringsquad hood - andinvariablyboundtotheoperatingtabletokeepthemfromwrithingandflinchingor,quite possibly,leapingfromthetableandfleeingintothestreet.(Perhapsowingtothepresenceofanaudience, patientsunderwentsurgerywithmostoftheirclotheson.) ~ Mary Roach

Swan renders the gathering amusingly, depicting the vile android Brainiac, scourge of the galaxy, sitting on Clark's ottoman and chatting away with Luthor as if he's at some kind of Stitch-n-Bitch-of-Doom. ~ Glen Weldon

But who decides what the meaning is?" Zachary wonders aloud.
"The reader. The player. The audience. That's what you bring to it, even if you don't make the choices along the way, you decide what it means to you." The knitting girl pauses to catch a slipped stitch and then continues. "A game or a book that has meaning to me might be boring to you, or vice versa. Stories are personal, you relate or you don't. ~ Erin Morgenstern

Because, my weird has been able to cancel out your weird, Lady Cross-Stitch. ~ Alexandra Bracken

The dress only means something if you want it to. What is important are the people behind it. When it comes to these things that are handed down from generation to generation, each woman leaves her own mark on it, so that it tells ours story, stitch by stitch. ~ Brenda Janowitz

Here was Nick Krieger tenderly touching my face with the sun setting behind him and snowflakes sliding off his bare shoulders.
"Hayden,"he said again,gently. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head?"
"I don't think so."
He moved the t-shirt aside and leaned closer,examining my ear. Oooh,it would be so much more romantic if he looked into my eyes rather than fixating on my ear.Shouldn't I be able to make this happen? What was the world comng to,that I couldn't even control what Nick did in my own wet dream?
He poked my ear.
"Ow,ow,ow!" I squealed, and then felt faint again,out of breath.This was no wet dream.It was reality after all.
He let out a disgusted sigh. "Hayden, Josh is right.The doctor might not even put a stitch in that.What's the matter with you? Do you faint at the sight of blood?"
Oh,no.There was no way I would let him get the upper hand,even if I was lying on my back in the snow and he was kneeling over me. I laughed. "Of course I don't faint at the sight of blood.I jump onto the dance floor and do the Soulja Boy.Get the hell off me,Dr. McDreamy. ~ Jennifer Echols

There was a time in my life when election year was nothing to me, but in 1912, I joined that great army of Americans who drop a stitch in their routine every four years, and give themselves up to backing first a candidate for the nomination and afterwards a nominee. ~ Margaret Case Harriman

I suggest you stick to your needlework." "Only if I can stitch your lips shut. ~ Suzanne Barclay

But that wouldn't be honest. That wouldn't be real. That would give you the idea that a life is a simple thing to tell, that it's obvious where to start--BIRTH--and even more obvious where to stop--DEATH. Fade from black to black.
I won't have it. I won't be one of the hundreds telling you that being alive flows like a story you write consciously, deliberately, full of linear narrative, foreshadowing, repetition, motifs. The emotional beats come down where they should, last as long as they should, end when they should, and that 'should' come from somewhere real and natural, not from the tyranny of the theatre, the utter hegemony of fiction. Why, isn't living easy? Isn't it grand? As easy as reading aloud.
No.
If I slice it all up and stitch it back together, you might not understand what I've been trying to say all my life: that any story is a lie cunningly told to hide the real world from the poor bastards who live in it. I can't. I can't tell you that lie...
If I fixed it so time goes the way you expect, you might come away thinking I know what the hell I'm doing. ~ Catherynne M. Valente

Falling for someone is like pulling a loose thread. It happens stitch by stitch. You feel whole most of the time even while the seams pop, the knots loosen, everything that holds you together coming undone. It feels incredible, this opening of yourself to the world. Not like the unraveling it is. Only afterward do you glance down at the tangle of string around your feet that used to be a person who was whole and self-contained and realize that love is not a thing that we create. It's an undoing. ~ Leah Raeder

Cut me open and the light streams out.
Stitch me up and the light keeps streaming out between the stitches ~ Richard Siken

The best thing I ever bought is my dog Stitch. He's the best friend & companion. ~ Travie McCoy

after they stitch up your leg, I'm taking you to jail." "No, you're not," said Kathy in her hardest ~ Paul Doiron

We turned out to be good for each other. For a stitch of time all the hard questions went away and hid in dark places. ~ Lawrence Block

It takes work to keep the world whole. A simple thing like a cup needs to be cleaned each day, placed carefully back on the shelf, not dropped. A city, in its own way, is every bit as delicate. People move over the causeways, ply the canals with their oars, go between their markets and their homes, buy and barter, swindle and sell, and all the while, mostly unknowingly, they are holding that city together. Each civil word is a stitch knitting it tight. Every law observed, willingly or grudgingly, helps to bind the whole. Every tradition, every social more, every act of neighborly goodwill is a stay against chaos. So many souls, so much effort, so difficult to create and so simple to shatter. ~ Brian Staveley

Do you always wear Malaysian imitations of Brooks Brothers blue oxford button-downs, Mr. Laney?"

Laney had looked down at his shirt, or tried to.

"Malaysia?"

"The stitch-count's dead on, but they still haven't mastered the thread-tension."

"Oh."

"Never mind. A little prototypic nerd chic could actually lend a certain frisson, around here. You could lose the tie, though. Definitely lose the tie. And keep a collection of felt-tipped pens in your pocket. Unchewed, please. Plus one of those fat flat highlighters, in a really nasty fluorescent shade."

"Are you joking?"

"Probably, Mr. Laney. May I call you Colin?"

"Yes."

She never did call him "Colin," then or ever. "You'll find that humor is essential at Slitscan, Laney. A necessary survival tool. You'll find the type that's most viable here is fairly oblique."

"How do you mean, Ms. Torrance?"

"Kathy. I mean difficult to quote effectively in a memo. Or a court of law. ~ William Gibson

I don't fuck girls," Stitch repeated. "Are you blind? I'm a fucking fag. I've always been. I couldn't even fuck my wife properly. Why do you think she divorced me? This is some bullshit!" He kicked the broken window and cracked the wood with his boot.
Zak let out a long breath, his mouth pressing into a thin like. "Why didn't you say anything? You never said you were gay. How could I know that?" he asked in a small voice. "I thought... that we were just buddies."
Stitch walked up to him and cupped Zak's face, digging his thumbs into his warm cheeks. "I don't like to talk about this kind of shit. There is no other option for me. Either you're in, or you're not. We're not 'buddies' and we never were. We're not friends, we're not mates. I see you as a… lover. Someone to get close to, someone I can be myself with. If you need to arrange to be exclusive, then it looks like this dog was barking up the wrong tree."
Zak opened and closed his mouth, his shining blue eyes looking straight into Stitch's soul. "I've never been with anyone like this. ~ K.A. Merikan

A needle is such a small brittle thing. It is easily broken. It can hold but one fragile thread. But if the needle is sharp, it can pierce the coarsest cloth. Ply the needle in and out of a canvas and with a great length of thread one can make a sail to move a ship across the ocean. In such a way can a sharp glossy tongue, with the thinnest of thread of a rumor, stitch together a story to flap in the breeze. Hoist that story upon the pillar of superstitious belief and a whole town can be pulled along with the wind of fear. ~ Kathleen Kent

The media landscape of the present day is a map in search of a territory. A huge volume of sensational and often toxic imagery inundates our minds, much of it fictional in content. How do we make sense of this ceaseless flow of advertising and publicity, news and entertainment, where presidential campaigns and moon voyages are presented in terms indistinguishable from the launch of a new candy bar or deodorant? What actually happens on the level of our unconscious minds when, within minutes on the same TV screen, a prime minister is assassinated, an actress makes love, an injured child is carried from a car crash? Faced with these charged events, prepackaged emotions already in place, we can only stitch together a set of emergency scenarios, just as our sleeping minds extemporize a narrative from the unrelated memories that veer through the cortical night. In the waking dream that now constitutes everyday reality, images of a blood-spattered widow, the chromium trim of a limousine windshield, the stylised glamour of a motorcade, fuse together to provide a secondary narrative with very different meanings. ~ J.G. Ballard

I took care of that evil man. I sewed a curse into his pocket. Sewed it tight. First five stitches take away his health, happiness, love, money an family. Six be the number of Evil. Sixth black stitch make it final. Satan his self gonna steal his breath and escort him to hell. ~ T.K. Lukas

What? You can't knit in the dark? Stuff and nonsense; anybody can. Shut your eyes. Knit one stitch. Open your eyes and look at the stitch; it's all right. Shut your eyes and knit two stitches. Open them. Shut them. Knit three stitches. Falling off a log is no comparison. ~ Elizabeth Zimmermann

With his hand on Stitch's chest, Zak could feel every heartbeat drumming fast. It only made Zak hug Stitch tighter. Sitting at the back of the bike wasn't all that bad when he could trust Stitch to get him home safely. The speed gave Zak an adrenaline rush, but he felt as safe as ever. At a hundred miles an hour, no one could disturb them, it was only him and Stitch ~ K.A. Merikan

Maybe it's not a lesson so much as it's a magic trick. You can make a little girl into anything if you say the right words. Take her apart until all that's left is her red, red heart thumping against the world. Stitch her up again real good. Now, maybe you get a woman. If you're lucky. If that's what you were after. Just as easy to end up with a blackbird or a circus bear or a coyote. Or a parrot, just saying what's said to you, doing what's done to you, copying until it comes so natural that even when you're all alone you keep on cawing hello pretty bird at the dark. ~ Catherynne M Valente

There is never a sudden revelation, a complete and tidy explanation for why it happened, or why it ends, or why or who you are. You want one and I want one, but there isn't one. It comes in bits and pieces, and you stitch them together wherever they fit, and when you are done you hold yourself up, and still there are holes and you are a rag doll, invented, imperfect. And yet you are all that you have, so you must be enough. There is no other way. ~ Marya Hornbacher

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

The more my heart is parked in a place of thanksgiving and rejoicing, the less room I have for grumpiness.
My kids are driving me crazy? At least they are healthy enough to have that kind of energy. Don't miss this chance to rejoice.
My laundry is piled to the ceiling? Every stitch of clothing is evidence of life in my home. Don't miss this chance to rejoice.
My husband isn't all skippy romantic about the two of us shopping together? In the grand scheme of life, so what? He's a good man. Don't miss this chance to rejoice.
I feel unorganized and behind and late on everything? Scale back, let unrealistic expectations go, and savor some happy moments today. Don't miss this chance to rejoice.
The more I rejoice, the more I keep things in perspective. The more I keep things in perspective, the gentler I become. ~ Lysa TerKeurst

You're on crack if you think I'm removing a single stitch of clothing." "Like ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

The idea that you could stitch together every detail episode to episode and preserve continuity for the length of a season and tell a story while using no time cuts, no flashbacks, nothing but pure real time just seemed too difficult. ~ Michael Loceff

When they teach [doctors] how to suture, they also teach them how to stitch their self-worth to being all-powerful. ~ Brene Brown

Things that remind me of Mother are these:
the truth 'mid deception, a warm summer breeze,
the calm within chaos, a stitch in a rip,
a comforting blanket, the smile on her lip,
an ocean of love in a heart big as whales,
the morals in everyday stories she tells,
a wink amid laughter, the wisdom in books,
the peace in humility, beauty in looks,
the light and the life in a ray of the sun,
the hard work accomplished disguised as pure fun,
concern in a handclasp, encouragement too,
the hope in a clear morning sky azure blue,
the power in prayers uttered soft and sincere,
the faith in a promise, and joy in a tear.
These things all attest to the wonder and grace
of my precious mother, none else could replace. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

And what is this wild summons? What art is asked of us? The gift offered is different for each but all are equal in grandeur. To paint, draw, dance, compose. To write songs, poems, letters, diaries, prayers. To set a violet on the sill, stitch a quilt,; bake bread; plant marigolds, beans, apple trees. To follow the track of the forest elk, the neighborhood coyote, the cupboard mouse. To open the windows, air beds, sweep clean the corners. To hold the child's hand, listen to the vagrant's story, paint the elder friend's fingernails a delightful shade of pink while wrapped in a blanket she knit with deft young fingers of her past. To wander paths, nibble purslane, notice spiders. To be rained upon. To listen with changed ears and sing back what we hear. ~ Lyanda Lynn Haupt

The [character] that I was able to crawl into the most was Lilo from Lilo & Stitch. This was sort of a cartoony-looking girl, but her problems were completely real. Her funky world that she createdI mean, you know kids like that. It was very honest and genuine and I wanted to do an honest job, so I thought about the character a lot before I animated it. I really got into the character, where [I] almost felt that pain that she had. The loss of the parents - you need to feel all that. That was a big learning experience for me. ~ Andreas Deja

This is called a piqué machine, it sews that finest stitch, called piqué, requires far more skill than the other stitches.... This is called a polishing machine and that is called a stretcher and you are called honey and I am called Daddy and this is called living and the other is called dying and this is called madness and this is called mourning and this is called hell, pure hell, and you have to have strong ties to be able to stick it out, this is called trying-to-go-on-as-though-nothing-has-happened and this is called paying-the-full-price-but-in-God's-name-for-what, this is called wanting-to-be-dead-and-wanting-to-find-her-and-to-kill-her-and-to-save-her-from-whatever-she-is-going-through-wherever-on-earth-she-may-be-at-this-moment, this unbridled outpouring is called blotting-out-everything and it does not work, I am half insane, the shattering force of that bomb is too great ... And then they were back at his office again. ~ Philip Roth

FORGET you? How could I EVER forget you? Sure, I only remember the last nine minutes, but I know a BESTEST friend when I see one!
"Bestest what?", squeaked Stitch Head.
"Oh, totally! BETEST friends forever! I knew we would be from the moment just after you said you weren't going to EAT me. ~ Guy Bass

Crying from sweetness doesn't count," he whispered back, and I felt the moisture prick my eyes, just as I'd predicted. "Gi used to say happy tears watered our gratitude. She even had a cross-stitch that said as much. I thought it was stupid." I could hear the smile in his voice.
"Ah . . . so Gi was a believer in the five greats. ~ Amy Harmon

KNOW YOUR DOPE FIEND. YOUR LIFE MAY DEPEND ON IT! You will not be able to see his eyes because of the Tea-Shades, but his knuckles will be white from inner tension and his pants will be crusted with semen from constantly jacking off when he can't find a rape victim. He will stagger and babble when questioned. He will not respect your badge. The Dope Fiend fears nothing. He will attack, for no reason, with every weapon at his command-including yours. BEWARE. Any officer apprehending a suspected marijuana addict should use all necessary force immediately. One stitch in time (on him) will usually save nine on you. Good luck.
-The Chief ~ Hunter S. Thompson

But when it comes to most skills, failure is the only way to become better at something. Knitting teaches you that. You may have to unwind all of your stitches and start anew. That doesn't mean you've wasted your time. You learn from every stitch, even those that don't amount to anything. All writers should be made to knit a hat before they start writing a novel. It would help with understanding the importance of revision, and that the process is what can bring you the most ~ Alice Hoffman

O'hana means family and family means nobody gets left behind or forgoten ~ Lilo And Stitch

Scars are memory. Like sutures. They stitch the past to me. ~ China Mieville

The world is a woven basket. Every stitch counts. ~ A.D. Posey

Wasn't that the way of the outlaw after all? Why the fuck should Stitch be constrained by rules? Wasn't lack of them what he loved about the biker lifestyle in the first place? Some arrangements made sense: don't rat, have your brothers' back, don't mess with another guy's bike, but cocksucking, ass-fucking? Why the fuck would anyone in the MC care whom he fucked? Because someone believed it's disgusting? Hell, he thought Freddy puking all over the pool table was disgusting, and no one kicked him out.
"Fuck the rules." Stitch bit his lip, looking down and already awaiting those skilled lips ~ K.A. Merikan

Book Power

Books feed and cure and
chortle and collide.

In all this willful world
of thud and thump and thunder
man's relevance to books
continues to declare.

Books are meat and medicine
and flame and flight and flower,
steel, stitch, and cloud and clout,
and drumbeats in the air. ~ Gwendolyn Brooks

What is it? Do you want me to stop?" he asked, breathless.
"No, please, be close to me," Stitch whispered, feeling the wetness under his eyelids. He lived in a culture where being tough was the only currency. He didn't even cry when he was alone. Being able to let it out made him just as relieved as having the amazing hot body on top of him. Made him remember he was still human, not a man whose muscles were made out of violence and bones out of fury ~ K.A. Merikan

You like to be fucked like a little bitch?" he groaned and laid his weight on top of Zak, grinding his cock into Zak's hip.
Zak's ass accepted the thick digit without question, but his mind rattled in alarm even as he ground back, fucking himself on the finger. He wasn't against dirty talk but he didn't know this guy, and it felt very off. "No, I like to be fucked like a man," he whispered.
Stitch snorted. "Oh yeah? And how does a man get fucked, huh?" He pulled out his thumb just to replace it with two other fingers, screwing in even harder. "Up the ass, yeah?" His hot breath tickled Zak's skin.
"A man isn't a bitch," whispered Zak. "He's choosing to get fucked up the ass, and he's proud of it." His breathing became shallow as he relaxed to the penetration after initial discomfort. He squeezed his muscles around the digits, anticipating Stitch's reactions. He would show him how good it would be to fuck a real man.
"So why don't you stop lecturing me and take it like a man, huh?" Stitch snarled at him and added another finger, fucking Zak with them in quick, harsh jabs. "I don't like being told what to do. ~ K.A. Merikan

A large piece of lead floated out of Bobby head, followed by dark chunks of what could only be pieces of Bobby's brain.

The torrent started up again. It flowed steady rather than pulsed with his heart. I knew from that, and from the amount of blood, that it was that mofo vein bleeding. And probably more than a small tear if the amount of blood was telling. I thought there had to be a hole the size of Montana in that thing.

"Jesus Mother Mary" I said, then "Stitch!"

The scrub tech slapped a needle holder into my palm, a curved needle and silk stitch clamped into the end of it. I might have closed my eyes - I've been told I do that sometimes in surgery when I'm trying to visualize something - though if so I don't remember doing it. I took that needle and aimed it into the pool of blood.

"Suck here Joe, right here."

When I thought I could see something, something gray and not black red, I plunged the pointy end of the needle through whatever the visible tissue was and looped it out again. I cinched it down and tied it quick, then repeated the maneuver again after adjusting slightly for lighting, sweating, my own bounding heartbeat, and the regret I wasn't wearing my own diaper.
We're losing, I thought. ~ Edison McDaniels

Tom Hyde, the tinker, standing on the gallows, was asked if he had anything to say. "Tell the tailors," said he, "to remember to make a knot in their thread before they take the first stitch." His companion's prayer is forgotten. ~ Henry David Thoreau

We choose our truths the way we choose our gods, single-sightedly, single-mindedly, no other way to feel or see or think. We lock ourselves into our ways, and click all the truths to one.
We put our truths together in pieces, but you use nails and I use glue. You mend with staples. I mend with screws. You stitch what I would bandage.
Your truth may not look like mine, but that is not what matters. What matters is this: You can look at a scar and see hurt, or you can look at a scar and see healing. Try to understand. ~ Sheri Reynolds

I picked at one of the buttons on my vest until the thread unraveled and it fell into my palm. Memo to self- buy a sewing kit to stitch my life back together. ~ Anita Higman

I don't know you either for that matter. So maybe I shouldn't trust the words of a man who only recently decided to stitch himself into the picture. ~ Kimberly Spencer

Fuck," he uttered through his teeth. "This wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for this freak." A powerful kick shook Zak's seat, but he didn't even try to reason with the unreasonable.
"It's not his fault that I don't like pussy." Stitch briefly turned around and smacked Captain's leg. "I am done doing what others try to push me to do. Aren't we supposed to be fucking outlaws? Living life without rules? Who says I can't fuck a guy if I want to? Fuck that. ~ K.A. Merikan

I said out loud, "Damn you for saving yourself. How come you left me with nothing but to love you and hate you, and that's gonna kill me, and you know it is."
Then I turned round, went back to the cellar room, and picked up the sewing.
Don't think she wasn't in every stitch I worked. She was in the wind and the rain and the creaking from the rocker. She sat on the wall with the birds and stared at me. When darkness fell, she fell with it. ~ Sue Monk Kidd

Watching a complex stitch pattern grow as I knit silences the voice in my head that tells me to sweep the floor. I imagine dust bunnies are knitting themselves together under my chair. ~ Debbie Macomber

Take your needle, my child, and work at your pattern; it will come out a
rose by and by. Life is like that - one stitch at a time taken patiently
and the pattern will come out all right like the embroidery. ~ Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

We will never fight again, our lovely, quick, template-ready arguments. Our delicate cross-stitch of bickers.

The house becomes a physical encyclopedia of no-longer hers, which shocks and shocks and is the principal difference between our house and a house where illness has worked away. Ill people, in their last day on Earth, do not leave notes stuck to bottles of red wine saying 'OH NO YOU DON'T COCK-CHEEK'. She was not busy dying, and there is no detritus of care, she was simply busy living, and then she was gone.

She won't ever use (make-up, turmeric, hairbrush, thesaurus).

She will never finish (Patricia Highsmith novel, peanut butter, lip balm).

And I will never shop for green Virago Classics for her birthday.

I will stop finding her hairs.


I will stop hearing her breathing. ~ Max Porter

Michelle wasn't butch enough to mess around with men. It would be simply heterosexual, and slutty. For Ziggy and Stitch it was something else, proof of their toughness. They could tumble around with this guy and emerge from the van as queer as ever, more queer, even, and the man might now in fact be a bit queer from his time spent cracked out in Ziggy's butch bosom. ~ Michelle Tea

Before he even knew it, Stitch's lips were on his, tongue forcing its way in, as Stitch's hands gripped the sides of Zak's face, like a physical reminder of how he'd held Zak in place during the blow job. When Stitch's body pushed on Zak's, he actually regretted not sleeping naked. The kiss was just too good. It sent trails of heat wandering all over Zak's skin. They made his lips tingle, and his throat ache again. He hardly even noticed when he melted into the wall behind him, gasping for breath. Stitch's tongue was hot and teasing, never leaving Zak's mouth, not letting him speak.
Stitch pulled one of his hands away, but before Zak knew it, it was on his hip, fingers already sliding under the waistband of his tracksuit bottoms. Zak grasped his wrist, keeping it in place. He opened his eyes, looking straight into Stitch's. The display had been pretty convincing. "You're a good kisser. Way to go, using an asset like that," he uttered breathlessly against the soft lips. His cock was already stiffening from the close contact.
"So, do I get to fuck you now?" Stitch groaned and gave Zak's lips a quick lap. He didn't push his hand farther down Zak's pants, but he curled his fingers and scratched the side of Zak's buttock. Fucking charmer.
"We get to fuck, but only as long as you guarantee me you won't be lashing out or intimidating me again. That kind of shit's not on," growled Zak, trying to ignore the warm shivers racing all over his body. He needed to set boundar ~ K.A. Merikan

It's always difficult when someone dies. Things are left unfinished, regrets gape wide open like a wound with no one there to stitch it all together and make everything all right again. ~ Jessica Thompson

Intruder," muttered Zak.
"You didn't seem to mind the intrusion," Stitch whispered with a crooked smile.
Zak snorted, delighted by the flirting. "You managed to convince me to its merits."
Stitch looked like he wanted to put his hands into his pockets, but only realized he was naked and put them on Zak's hips. "It was worth getting bitten by a dog."
Zak stared at him, unsure what to say to that, but he eventually chuckled. "Romantic. ~ K.A. Merikan

The conclusion I have reached is that, above all, dogs are witnesses. They are allowed access to our most private moments. They are there when we think we are alone. Think of what they could tell us. They sit on the laps of presidents. They see acts of love and violence, quarrels and feuds, and the secret play of children. If they could tell us everything they have seen, all of the gaps of our lives would stitch themselves together. ~ Carolyn Parkhurst

Let us ponder over this basic truth until we are steeped in it, until it becomes as familiar to us as our awareness of shapes or our reading of words: God, at his most vitally active and most incarnate, is not remote from us, wholly apart from the sphere of the tangible; on the contrary, at every moment he awaits us in the activity, the work to be done, which every moment brings. He is, in a sense, at the point of my pen, my pick, my paint-brush, my needle - and my heart and my thought. It is by carrying to its natural completion the stroke, the line, the stitch I am working on that I shall lay hold on that ultimate end towards which my will at its deepest levels tends.1 ~ Michael Frost

I love to knit. There's a comfort to it that I can't entirely explain. The repetition of weaving the yarn around the needle and then forming a stitch creates a sense of purpose, of achievement, of progress. When your entire world is unraveling, you tend to crave order and I found it in knitting. ~ Debbie Macomber

You can't heal a heart that's been fragmented. But my wounds were closing. Stitch by stitch, I was starting to feel again. I can't undo the past and stop everything that has happened. However, I can try to take a tiny step forward. ~ Calia Read

When we're back on our own time, then you can get competitive. Until we solve this, cut it the fuck out, or you are going to seriously piss me off."
Edward got slowly to his feet. I backed away out of reach. I'd never seen him use martial arts before, but I put nothing past him.
A sound made me back up further until I could see Edward and Marks without looking away from Edward. Marks was making a small sniggering sound. It took me a moment to realize he was laughing, laughing so hard his face was purplish and he seemed to be having trouble breathing.
Edward and I both stared at him.
When Marks could finally talk, he said, "You kick a man in the face, and that's not seriously pissed off."
He straightened, hand to his side like he had a stitch in it. "What the fuck do you call seriously pissed? ~ Laurell K. Hamilton

Jeffrey Murdock is a colossal turd."
"Can I stitch that on a sampler and put it on Etsy?"
"Sure. ~ Cecilia London

Anyhow," she went on, "so long as my mother forced me to embroider, I insisted on choosing a pattern that interested me. I've never understood why girls are always made to stitch insipid flowers and ribbons." "Well, just to hazard a guess ... " Colin straightened his edge. "Perhaps that's because sleeping on a bed of flowers and ribbons sounds delightful and romantic. Whereas sharing one's bed with a primeval sea snail sounds disgusting." Her jaw firmed. "You're welcome to sleep on the floor." "Did I say disgusting? I meant enchanting. I've always wanted to go to bed with a primeval sea snail. ~ Tessa Dare

Here was the remainder of ten thousand educations, the bones drifted down to this depth. It was the fossil of one's country. She ached, because the war had cut the thin cord that bound each child to its ancestors with links made from cross-stitch and calligraphy. ~ Chris Cleave

It was... amazing," whispered Zak, seeking Stitch's fingers with his hand. "Never done this bare before, and you... agreeing to this, letting me come inside you. I just... don't know what to say without making it seem cheaper than it was, you know."
Stitch squeezed Zak's hand and delighted in a slow kiss. "My inhibitions were bullshit. Now I know. I had the shittiest day and you made it better. Thank you."
Zak pushed his fingers into Stitch's hair and looked into his eyes. His were this beautiful, deep blue that Stitch could look into all the time. It was different to lie in Zak's arms for a change, him being a bit sore in a way that Zak sometimes mentioned but Stitch could never understand. It really was pleasant, hot, tender. A remainder of being so close with another man, closer than he ever imagined.
"I'm here to serve," chuckled Zak, but his face became more serious when he leaned in for another kiss. "You are an amazing man. Nobody's anything like you."
"I love you," Stitch whispered and kissed Zak's lip piercing. Everything about his man was perfect ~ K.A. Merikan

In the centre of Bond was a hurricane-room, the kind of citadel found in old-fashioned houses in the tropics. These rooms are small, strongly built cells in the heart of the house, in the middle of the ground floor and sometimes dug down into its foundations. To this cell the owner and his family retire if the storm threatens to destroy the house, and they stay there until the danger is past. Bond went to his hurricane room only when the situation was beyond his control and no other possible action could be taken. Now he retired to this citadel, closed his mind to the hell of noise and violent movement, and focused on a single stitch in the back of the seat in front of him, waiting with slackened nerves for whatever fate had decided for B. E. A. Flight No. 130. ~ Ian Fleming

The seamstress
With fingers weary and worn,
And eyelids heavy and red,
Long after the house sleeps,
Still in her chair she sits.
Her needle flickering, in-out,
Daylight nears and the fire burns low,
Alone with her shirt, still she sews.
She, held prisoner by her thread,
Her heads nods, but sleep forbids,
Just one more seam or button two.
Listen brothers, sons and husbands all,
Call it not just cotton, linen or only wool,
Count each stitch and say a prayer,
For heart and soul that put them there. ~ Nancy B. Brewer