Suitcase Quotes

The die cast, I really was living out of a suitcase, feeling as though I had fallen off the grid. ~ Grace G. Payge

Within 2 years Im predicting ... that youre going to see a suitcase nuke in this country. Youre probably going to see a release in a few years of something communicable. & I am predicting that you will see a lot of conventional bombings ... in the next year or so. ~ Alex Jones

Gina hoisted herself up onto her elbows and gaped at Spike. "So that's the famous Spike I've been hearing so much about from your brothers? Damn, he is ugly."
Jesse, who'd stayed where he was, looked defensive. Spike was his baby, and you just don't go around calling Jesse's baby ugly.
"He's not so bad," I said, hoping Gina would get the message and shut up.
"Are you on crack?" Gina wanted to know. "Simon, the thing's only got one ear."
Suddenly, the large, gilt-framed mirror above the dressing table started to shake. It had a tendency to do this whenever Jesse got annoyed - really annoyed.
Gina, not knowing this, stared at the mirror with growing excitement. "Hey!" she cried. "All right! Another one!"
She meant an earthquake, of course, but this, like the one before, was no earthquake. It was just Jesse letting off steam.
Then the next thing I knew, a bottle of finger-nail polish Gina had left on the dressing table went flying and, defying all gravitational law, landed upside down in the suitcase she had placed on the floor at the end of the daybed, around seven or eight feet away.
I probably don't need to add that the bottle of polish - it was emerald green - was uncapped. And that it ended up on top of the clothes Gina hadn't unpacked yet.
Gina let out a terrified shriek, threw back the comforter, and dove to the floor, trying to salvage what she could. I, meanwhile, threw Jesse a very dirty look.
But all he said was, "Don' ~ Meg Cabot

[...] he would see that birth and death were only two tremendous moments in an eternal waking, and his face would glow with amazement as he understood this; he would feel - gently he grasped the copper handle of the door - the warmth of the mountains, woods, rivers and valleys, would discover the hidden depths of human existence, would finally understand that the unbreakable ties that bound him to the world were not imprisoning chains and condemnation but a kind of clinging to an indestructible sense that he had a home; and he would discover the enormous joys of mutuality which embraced and animated everything: rain, wind, sun and snow, the flight of a bird, the taste of fruit, the scent of grass; and he would suspect that his anxieties and bitterness were merely cumbersome ballast required by the live roots of his past and the rising airship of his certain future, and, then - he started opening the door - he would finally know that our every moment is passed in a procession across dawns and day's-ends of the orbiting earth, across successive waves of winter and summer, threading the planets and the stars. Suitcase in hand, he stepped into the room and stood there blinking in the half-light. ~ Laszlo Krasznahorkai

Hey, heads up. The hottest doctor in town just came by and coerced me into telling him where you were. I folded like a cheap suitcase. Sorry, but he's hard to say no to. Don't be mad. I owe you a cupcake. ~ Jill Shalvis

One of the things I like to pack, that I take with me all the time, is my Virgensita de Guadalupe. It doesn't take much room in your suitcase. If you have one that isn't so fancy, you can use it on the plane when you're scared. ~ Sandra Cisneros

Tim bid us good-bye after helping us carry in my three-hundred-pound suitcase, and Marlboro Man and I looked around our quiet house, which was spick-and-span and smelled of fresh paint and leather cowboy boots, which lined the wall near the front door. The entry glowed with the light of the setting sun coming in the window, and I reached down to grab one of my bags so I could carry it to the bedroom. But before my hand made it to the handle, Marlboro Man grabbed me tightly around the waist and carried me over to the leather sofa, where we fell together in a tired heap of jet lag, emotional exhaustion, and--ironically, given the week we'd just endured--a sudden burst of lust.
"Welcome home," he said, nuzzling his face into my neck. Mmmm. This was a familiar feeling.
"Thank you," I said, closing my eyes and savoring every second. As his lips made their way across my neck, I could hear the sweet and reassuring sound of cows in the pasture east of our house. We were home.
"You feel so good," he said, moving his hands to the zipper of my casual black jacket.
"You do, too," I said, stroking the back of his closely cut hair as his arms wrapped more and more tightly around my waist. "But…uh…" I paused.
My black jacket was by now on the floor.
"I…uh…," I continued. "I think I need to take a shower." And I did. I couldn't do the precise calculation of what it had meant for my hygiene to cross back over the international date line, but as far as I was conce ~ Ree Drummond

The golf swing is like a suitcase into which we are trying to pack one too many things. ~ John Updike

But the crowds are surging around them and her backpack is heavy on her shoulders and the boy's eyes are searching hers with something like loneliness , like the very last thing he wants is to be left behind right now. And that's something Hadley can understand, too, and so after a moment she nods in agreement, and he tips the suitcase forward onto it's wheels, and they begin to walk. ~ Jennifer E. Smith

She held her breath in one hand and her suitcase in the other. ~ Ruta Sepetys

People say, 'Where do you live?' and I say that theoretically, I live in London, but basically that's just where I go to change my suitcase. Otherwise, I'm always flying somewhere. ~ Olga Kurylenko

Caleb jerked me into the room and quickly shut the door as he flipped on the lights. "Well, that was just great," he said sarcastically.
"I'm sure she's seen your cute behind before," I told him as I went to my suitcase. "I'm sure she changed plenty of your diapers." He grimaces. "I don't want to think about it." I just laughed at him more ~ Shelly Crane

Every country I would go to, even if it was just on a modeling job, I would go to their markets. If I went to Morocco for 'Elle' magazine, I would be in the spice markets during my off time and just come back with a suitcase full of stuff that I really wanted to try. ~ Padma Lakshmi

A young woman stood in the hallway, a suitcase at her feet, a cardboard carton in her hands. She wore a yellow cotton dress with a white flower print. The silver dragonfly on her necklace hung in the hollow of her collarbone and her thick red hair cascaded past her sunburned shoulders. She will tell you that she hadn't chosen that dress with any care, or the necklace, that she hadn't washed her hair or scrubbed her face, put a little red on her lips. Don't believe it. No one looks that good by accident. ~ David Benioff

Curiously I was unmoved by my work. Unaffected by the act of murder, I had become entirely numb. I couldn't understand how such detachment was possible-- but I did some digging.

What I discovered would have horrified me... if I was capable of being horrified. My augmentation had included the binding of my DNA to some of history's most notorious assassins.

Are you not getting this? I'll say it in plain English--- I am the perfect killer in every sense of the word--- ---because--- ---I--- ---am--- ---every--- killer.

I'm the act of change possessed in a revolver. I am revolution packed into a suitcase bomb.

I am ever Mark David Chapman and every Charlotte Corday. I am Luigi Lucheni slow-dancing with Balthasar to the tune of semi-automatics, while Gavrilo Princip masturbates in the corner with bath-tub napalm. I am all of them and so much more... because I am going to live forever." Number Five ~ Gerard Way

You're probably good at taking lip, aren't you?" I mutter more to myself than to my bodyguard, clawing through the suitcase for a T-shirt that isn't tight on me. "Like a CIA operative, right? Do bodyguards go to bodyguard school? Are you like the hitman in Hitman?"

He adjusts his cuffs. "You know the rule about fight club?"

I give him a surprised look. "So you can talk!"

He raises a single eyebrow. "I will be right outside your door if you need me. You have to be down at the lot in twenty minutes. I suggest you hurry." Then he takes his burly frame and saunters out of the room.

I shove my head into a clean shirt and pull my arms through just as my phone blips.

There's a message. Well, two messages.

Gail 8:36 AM

- HIS NAME IS LONNY. BE NICE.

"Lonny?" That name definitely is not fit for a three-hundred-pound machine of total annihilation, but okay ~ Ashley Poston

My kids miss me when I'm away, but I don't mind living out of a suitcase. The U.K., U.S., France, Germany, Iraq ... it's such a thrill meeting people of different cultures, learning about and from them. It's changed my perception about life, humanity and spirituality. ~ A.R. Rahman

It's a battered old suitcase and a hotel someplace and a wound that will never heal. ~ Tom Waits

I paid the taxi driver, got out with my suitcase, surveyed my surroundings, and just as I was turning to ask the driver something or get back into the taxi and return forthwith to Chillán and then to Santiago, it sped off without warning, as if the somewhat ominous solitude of the place had unleashed atavistic fears in the driver's mind. For a moment I too was afraid. I must have been a sorry sight standing there helplessly with my suitcase from the seminary, holding a copy of Farewell's Anthology in one hand. Some birds flew out from behind a clump of trees. They seemed to be screaming the name of that forsaken village, Querquén, but they also seemed to be enquiring who: quién, quién, quién. I said a hasty prayer and headed for a wooden bench, there to recover a composure more in keeping with what I was, or what at the time I considered myself to be. Our Lady, do not abandon your servant, I murmured, while the black birds, about twenty-five centimetres in length, cried quién, quién, quién. Our Lady of Lourdes, do not abandon your poor priest, I murmured, while other birds, about ten centimetres long, brown in colour, or brownish, rather, with white breasts, called out, but not as loudly, quién, quién, quién, Our Lady of Suffering, Our Lady of Insight, Our Lady of Poetry, do not leave your devoted subject at the mercy of the elements, I murmured, while several tiny birds, magenta, black, fuchsia, yellow and blue in colour, wailed quién, quién, quién, at which point a cold win ~ Roberto Bolano

Just me and my suitcase, hanging out wit the sun, learning how to pack light. ~ Andrea Gibson

...and a suitcase of memories. ~ Cecelia Ahern

Planes and Trains and Boats and Busses Characteristically Evolve a common attitude of blue Unless you have a suitcase and a ticket and a passport And the cargo that they're carrying is you. ~ Tom Waits

I lived in a suitcase for a year, and then a relationship brought me to New York for about four months, then I lived in Melbourne. Then I moved back to Gothenburg because the immigrant laws are strict for both Australia and the U.S., and I would have to marry someone to get into those countries. But I wouldn't really be able to get involved in a sham marriage without being able to tell anyone about it. ~ Jens Lekman

I kept being told, 'If you really want to build a start up, you have to be in San Francisco,' so I ended up taking out a suitcase. It did occur to me to do it in London but it's very, very difficult to build a start up in London - so I guess I was being lazy. ~ Ruzwana Bashir

I wore this hat to Hell.' He held the hat up to his nose and inhaled. 'Still faintly redolent of brimstone. That smell gets everywhere.' Horst, waiting by the door with the packed suitcase, said, 'When a normal person uses a phrase like they wore a hat to Hell, one naturally assumes they just wore it a lot. ~ Jonathan L. Howard

Note to future selves: Never buy anything. You will just have to pack it in a suitcase one day and be at the mercy of airline attendants and their draconian weight regulations. ~ Jessica Pan

The wisdom of other cultures is one of the greatest gifts that a traveler can bring home. It takes no room in your suitcase - only an open mind and an open heart. ~ Peggy Kopman-Owens

It will be under the name David Talbot." "My clothes. There's a stash of them here under the name Isaac Rummel. Just a suitcase or two, and some coats. It's really winter, isn't it?" I gave him the key to the room. This was humiliating. Rather like making a servant of him. Perhaps he'd change his mind and put our new lodgings under the name of Renfield. ~ Anne Rice

One day, I found my dad's dressing-gown in an old suitcase, and it transported me back to when I was five and thought he was a god or a superhero who could do anything. After that, I wrote my first positive book about fathers, about my dad. ~ Anthony Browne

My suitcase must absolutely contain my iPod. ~ Alexander Ludwig

Could he be my Bertie, the cheeky butcher's boy? I had walked out with him when I was a reluctant servant in Mr Buchanan's household. Dear funny Bertie, who had been so self-conscious about reeking of meat. Bertie, the boy who had taken me to the fair and won me the little black-and-white china dog that was in my suitcase now, carefully wrapped in my nightgown to prevent any chips. ~ Jacqueline Wilson

With my sister perched on my arm, I walked to the elevator. A business man with a rolling suitcase was waiting by the doors. His eyes widened as he saw me. I must've looked pretty strange - a tall black kid in dirty, ragged Egyptian clothes, with a weird box tucked under one arm and a bird of prey perched on the other.
"How's it going?" I said.
"I'll take the stairs." He hurried off. ~ Rick Riordan

Encountering rhyme out of the blue is like finding a long-lost twin (fraternal), or a suitcase that closes with a particularly satisfying click. ~ Matthea Harvey

So Achmed if you've been in my suitcase this entire time how have you been getting through security? Oh thats easy they open the suitcase and i say 'ello my name is lindey lohan! ~ Jeff Dunham

Kota!" I said, stepping away from my sisters and Lucy.
"You can sleep on the couch or in the garage or in the tree house for all I care; but if you don't check your attitude, I'll send you back to your apartment right now! Have some gratitude for the security you've been offered. Need I remind you that tomorrow we're burying our father? Either stop the bickering or go home." I turned on my heel and headed down the hall. Without checking, I knew Lucy was right behind me, suitcase in hand.
I opened the door to my room, waiting for her to come in with me. Once her skirts swished past the frame, I slammed it shut, heaving a sigh. "Was that too much?" I asked.
"It was perfect!" she replied with delight.
"You might as well be the princess already, miss. You're ready for it. ~ Kiera Cass

I used to have a military officer travelling with me at all times with a suitcase - referred to as the nuclear football - in case it had to be used. ~ Al Gore

Are you guys ready? I told Peter we'd meet him at eight."
Margot opens the door. "Ready," she says, and she doesn't look happy.
Ravi steps out behind her, carrying his suitcase. "I'm just going to drop this off in the guest room, and then I'm all set," he sys.
As soon as he's gone, I whisper to Margot, "Did something happen?"
"Ravi didn't want to make a bad impression on Daddy by us staying in the same room. I told him it was fine, but he doesn't feel comfortable."
"That's very considerate of him." I wouldn't say so to Margot, but it was totally the right move. Ravi just keeps rising in my estimation.
Reluctantly she says, "He's a very considerate guy."
"Really handsome, too."
A smile spreads across her face. "And there's that. ~ Jenny Han

You're going to pee in someone's suitcase?"
"Do you have any other ideas?"
And suddenly Miracolina begins to snicker, then giggle, then giggle, then cackle uncontrollably. "He's going to pee in someone's suitcase!"
"Quiet! Do you want people on the bus to hear you?"
But Miracolina is beyond help. She's entered into a fullfledged laughter fit-the kind that leaves your stomach hurting. "They're gonna open their suitcase," she blurts between bursts of glee, "And their clothes'll be full of pee! ~ Neal Shusterman

I always pick a gorgeous time to fall over a suitcase or something. ~ J.D. Salinger

I hit a grand slam off Ron Herbel and when his manager Herman Franks came out to get him, he was bringing Herbel's suitcase. ~ Bob Uecker

We are not, however, a species that can choose the baggage with which it must travel. In spite of our best intentions, we always find that we have brought along a suitcase or two of darkness, and misery. ~ Dean Koontz

Everything you own must be able to fit inside one suitcase; then your mind might be free. ~ Charles Bukowski

I was 19 when I got my first passport as an adult. I had moved from California to New York City and was living out of a suitcase, staying with friends. I'd just finished filming my first movie, 'Ordinary People,' but I didn't know whether acting was what I wanted to do with my life. ~ Timothy Hutton

He tried to design his life in such a way that no woman could move in with a suitcase ~ Milan Kundera

A customs man at JFK had asked them to open the suitcases (in case they were smuggling in Indian fruits or sweets, perhaps). 'Ulysses!' the large bespectacled disbelieving customs man had said. 'Are you a student?' Ananda had nodded, though he was in the equivalent of high school. 'I wouldn't read Ulysses unless I was a student!' said the customs man, shutting the suitcase after his glimpse into the tantalising freemasonry of studenthood. A potentially incendiary book then - on the verge of being, but not quite, contraband. And near-unreadable. Ananda ~ Amit Chaudhuri

Now I'm a suitcase
Duct-taped to a satyr's back.
Worst. Morning. Ever. ~ Rick Riordan

All of my art is suitcase-sized. I always paint in mediums that dry pretty quickly because I've got to throw them in my suitcase and go. And I have so much because of that, because it's what I've always done to pass the time, and I like it. ~ Alison Mosshart

Don't let a suitcase filled with cheese be your big fork and spoon. ~ Doris Roberts

Very serious, very serious," the gateman said, shaking his head also. "You can't get in without a reason." He thought for a moment and then continued. "Wait a minute; maybe I have an old one you can use." He took a battered suitcase from the gatehouse and began to rummage busily through it, mumbling to himself, "No ... no ... no ... this won't do ... no ... h-m-m-m ... ah, this is fine," he cried triumphantly, holding up a small medallion on a chain. He dusted it off, and engraved ~ Norton Juster

You carried your infant daughter in one arm, and walked with me, a child six years of age, tired, trudging beside you. You left that nightmare behind. And you left behind other things, too. The elm trees that lined your street. The familiar scent of autumn. The baker's smile when he handed you the fresh bread, the song of the peddlers in the street, the sound of strangers around you talking, haggling, buying, singing, speaking, fighting in a language you understood. Your friends. Your career. Your home. Your dreams. Your family. Your memories. Pots, pans, the fine silver spoons and forks. Photographs. Heirlooms. Your favorite dresses. Your father's grave. The colorful wares of the markets at the new year. Streets you knew by name. Cab drivers who recited poetry. The halls of your old university. You left whatever you couldn't fit into a single suitcase behind you and closed the door of your home for the last time, the dishes washed, the beds made, the curtains drawn, thinking, "Perhaps, perhaps we will come back," and you shut the door, and left, without knowing if you'd ever find home again. ~ Parnaz Foroutan

It was in this atmosphere of boozy wistfulness and dizzy exhaustion that Sylvia- along with Carol LeVarn- took her suitcase to the Barbizon roof and tossed each slip, stocking, sheath, and skirt into the night sky. "We took the elevator to the roof," recalls Carol, who refrained from tossing her own clothes off the Barbizon. "We stood there by the empty pool, which was all lit up. We were laughing. All this absurd phony fun we were having was over ... .We were just kind of giddy. I didn't see it as Sylvia throwing off a false self. It was just fun- a 'good-bye to all that' sort of thing. ~ Elizabeth Winder

He could also be terrible romantic and thoughtful. My job was a real challenge. The work was difficult and the boss demanding: he thought nothing of calling or emailing at odd hours, even on the weekend; you ignored him at your peril.
There was a point at which everything got to me. And it was exactly at that moment that Chris stepped in and planned a weekend getaway. He found a little cabin out in the woods where there was no cell phone reception-yes!-and without telling anyone, we made our getaway.
Almost. I actually called the boss and told him my cell reception was giving out, and so I wouldn't be able to check messages, something he expected even on the weekends.
As soon as we got to the cabin, I headed to the bedroom. Inside, I opened my suitcase and changed into sexy white Victoria's Secret-style lingerie, complete with corset and thigh-highs. Feeling a little shy and silly, I walked out and leaned against the doorway of the living room where he was sitting.
"Hey!"
"Yeah?" he mumbled from the couch, not bothering to look up from the magazine he was reading.
"Turn around," I said.
He turned around-slowly at first. But as soon as he caught sight of me in that lingerie, he hopped clear over the couch and chased me down the hall to the bedroom. I squealed and giggled the whole way. ~ Taya Kyle

If I Were Another


If I were another on the road, I would not have looked

back, I would have said what one traveler said

to another: Stranger! awaken

the guitar more! Delay our tomorrow so our road

may extend and space may widen for us, and we may get rescued

from our story together: you are so much yourself ... and I am

so much other than myself right here before you!


If I were another I would have belonged to the road,

neither you nor I would return. Awaken the guitar

and we might sense the unknown and the route that tempts

the traveler to test gravity. I am only

my steps, and you are both my compass and my chasm.

If I were another on the road, I would have

hidden my emotions in the suitcase, so my poem

would be of water, diaphanous, white,

abstract, and lightweight ... stronger than memory,

and weaker than dewdrops, and I would have said:

My identity is this expanse!


If I were another on the road, I would have said

to the guitar: Teach me an extra string!

Because the house is farther, and the road to it prettier -

that's what my new song would say. Whenever

the road lengthens the meaning renews, and I become two

on this road: I ... and another! ~ Mahmoud Darwish

I dug out an old brown suitcase and threw a few clothes into it, then looked around my bedroom for memorabilia, but stopped when I remembered that the purpose of memorabilia is to trigger memory. I didn't want to be lugging my memories all over the place. They were to heavy. ~ Steve Toltz

Action fiction is driven more by what than by who. Put that ticking nuclear suitcase under Manhattan, and it's relatively easy to create suspense. Literary fiction is driven more by who than by what. ~ Barry Eisler

I do so much travelling in my work that my suitcase is always packed, with my passport ready. I rarely unpack, as I am constantly on the move. ~ Jools Holland

I'd like to learn how to cook. I've hauled around this big, old, heavy Martha Stewart cookbook in my suitcase to Cape Cod, L.A., Paris. I don't know what possessed me. ~ Mamie Gummer

Those were days of learning the reality behind the phrase I've often used, "ruthless trust." It's something easy to say but much harder to live. But I have learned in my life that grace often gestates, like an unborn child. And when the expectant mother grabs the hospital-prepared suitcase and screams, "Let's go!" then you'd better go. ~ Brennan Manning

Fear, anxiety and neurosis: that's just in the suitcase when you're an actor. ~ Laura Linney

The driver bumped his way through the door and plopped down Caitlyn's "luggage." Caitlyn watched Madame Snowe's eyes go to it, widening as
she took it in. Caitlyn's cheeks heated.
Her "luggage" was a Vietnam War-era army green duffel bag, bought for a dollar at a garage sale. Cloud-shaped moisture stains mottled its
faded surface, and jagged stitches of black carpet thread sealed a rip on one end, Caitlyn's clumsy needlework giving the mended hole the look of
one of Frankenstein's scars.
"Is that all you brought?" Greta asked.
Caitlyn nodded, wishing the floor would swallow her.
"Very good. You will have no trouble unpacking, and then you can burn your bag, heh?"
"Reduce, reuse, recycle!" Caitlyn said with false cheer. "We're very big on living green in Oregon. Why buy a new suitcase when someone else's
old duffel bag will do?"
"We'll see that it gets … disposed of properly, ~ Lisa Cach

He turned and looked at the boy. Standing with his suitcase like an orphan waiting for a bus. ~ Cormac McCarthy

Yeah, well there's your first problem. You don't get it. You can't even see what you did. You're going to sit here today and you're going to convince yourself that you were right and I was unreasonable and you won't even think about what you just tried to make me into. But hey ... It's not my problem, now. You think what you want. I'm gone."
He sighed and reached for my suitcase. "Will you at least let me help you down the stairs?"
"Fuck off." I'd rather break my neck than let him give me a second of assistance.
"Topher, come on!" Now he sounded annoyed and seriously, fuck him, he didn't get to be pissy over this. I turned around and gave him a withering look.
"Be sure you clear the lube out of the bedside table before you bang your wife in that room. It's a dead giveaway. ~ Amelia C. Gormley

One last Friday I handed Mrs. Croft eight one-dollar bills in an envelope, brought my suitcase downstairs, and informed her that I was moving. She put my key into her change purse. The last thing she asked me to do was hand her the cane propped against the table, so that she could walk to the door and lock it behind me. "Good-bye, then," she said, and retreated back into the house. I did not expect any display of emotion, but I was disappointed all the same. I was only a boarder, a man who paid her a bit of money and passed in and out of her home for six weeks. Compared to a century, it was no time at all. ~ Anonymous

I feel as though I should say something profound, or enact some rite, or trade something to make it official. I want to transfer some trinket which would allow me to say that she's my girl, some kind of currency that proves to people that she likes me back. Something that would permit me to think about her all the time without feeling guilty or helpless or hopelessly far away. I guess I'm just so excited, I want to cage this thing like a tiny red bird so if can't fly away, so it stays the same, so it's still there the next time. For keeps, like a coin in your pocket. Like a peach pit from Mad Jack Lionel's tree. Like scribbled words in a locked suitcase. A bright balloon to tie to your bedpost. And you want to hug it close, hold it, but not so tight it bursts. ~ Craig Silvey

What is it about suitcases, lying there empty? Before a trip, they are full of uneasy anticipation. After, they are almost regretful, longing to go back to those unfamiliar hotel rooms, those airport carousels. If items can be discontent, the one that is the most must be an empty suitcase. Or perhaps an undeveloped roll of film. ~ Krysta MacDonald

What if there was a disease in Alexandria, she thought, and everybody died but me?
I'd go live at the library, she told herself. The notion was cheering. She saw herself reading by candlelight, shadows flickering on the ceiling above the labyrinth of shelves. She could take a suitcase from home–peanut butter and crackers, a blanket, a change of clothes–and pull together two of the big armchairs in the Reading Room to sleep on… ~ Donna Tartt

Don't you hate it when ... your suitcase is the last one off the airplane? ~ Andy Rooney

Lucille has a dull life, Mr. Marlowe. She's stuck here with me and a PBX. And an itty-bitty diamond ring - so small I was ashamed to give it to her. But what can a man do? If he loves a girl, he'd like it to show on her finger."
Lucille held her left hand up and moved it around to get a flash from the little stone. "I hate it," she said. "I hate it like I hate the sunshine and the summer and the bright stars and the full moon. That's how I hate it".
I picked up the key and my suitcase and left them. A little more of that and I'd be falling in love with myself. I might even give myself a small unpretentious diamond ring. ~ Raymond Chandler

Every day, on the roads of Delhi, some chauffeur is driving an empty car with a black suitcase sitting on the backseat. Inside that suitcase is a million, two million rupees; more money than that chauffeur will see in his lifetime. If he took the money he could go to America, Australia, anywhere, and start a new life. He could go inside the five-star hotels he has dreamed about all his life and only seen from the outside. He could take his family to Goa, to England. Yet he takes that black suitcase where his master wants. He puts it down where he is meant to, and never touches a rupee. Why?
Because Indians are the world's most honest people, like the prime minister's booklet will inform you? No. It's because 99.9 percent of us are caught in the Rooster Coop just like those poor guys in the poultry market. ~ Aravind Adiga

I'm staying in a lovely hotel, dressing robe behind the door, lovely fluffy sheets - took me a half an hour getting my suitcase closed. ~ Frank Carson

We have been waiting for an hour when we see a squad of German soldiers line up on the roadbed alongside the train. Next comes a column of people in civilian clothes. Surely they are Jews. All of them are rather well dressed, with suitcases in their hands as if departing peacefully on vacation. They climb aboard the train while a sergeant major keeps them moving along, "Schnell, schnell." There are men and women of all ages, even children. Among them I see one of my former students, Jeanine Crémieux. She got married in 1941 and had a baby last spring. She is holding the infant in her left arm and a suitcase in her right hand. The first step is very high above the rocky roadbed. She puts the suitcase on the step and holds on with one hand to the doorjamb, but she can't quite hoist herself up. The sergeant major comes running, hollers, and kicks her in the rear. Losing her balance, she screams as her baby falls to the ground, a pathetic little white wailing heap. I will never know if it was hurt, because my friends pulled me back and grabbed my hand just as I was about to shoot.

Today I know what hate is, real hate, and I swear to myself that these acts will be paid for. ~ Lucie Aubrac

And I suppose tapes are a desperate attempt to steal something from Death's suitcase. ~ Mitch Albom

When you travel, the battered old suitcase only tells half the story... ~ Virginia Alison

I confess that if I were in Violet's place, with only a few minutes to open a locked suitcase, instead of on the deck of my friend Bela's yacht, writing this down, I probably would have given up hope. I would have sunk to the floor of the bedroom and pounded my fists against the carpet wondering why in the world life was so unfair and filled with inconveniences. ~ Lemony Snicket

To guard yourself against thieves who slash open suitcases, rifle through bags and smash open boxes, one should strap the bags and lock them. The world at large knows that this shows wisdom. However, when a master thief comes, he simply picks up the suitcase, lifts the bag, carries off the box and runs away with them, his only concern being whether the straps and locks will hold! In such an instance, what seemed like wisdom on the part of the owner surely turns out to have been of use only to the master thief! ~ Zhuangzi

Once my father told me: When a Jew prays, he is asking God a question that has no end.

Darkness fell. Rain fell.

I never asked: What question?

And now it's too late. Because I lost you, Tateh. One day, in the spring of 1938, on a rainy day that gave way to a break in the clouds, I lost you. You'd gone out to collect specimens for a theory you were hatching about rainfall, instinct, and butterflies. And then you were gone. We found you lying under a tree, your face splashed with mud. We knew you were free then, unbound by disappointing results. And we buried you in the cemetery where your father was buried, and his father, under the shade of the chestnut tree. Three years later, I lost Mameh. The last time I saw her she was wearing her yellow apron. She was stuffing things in a suitcase, the house was a wreck. She told me to go into the woods. She'd packed me food, and told me to wear my coat, even though it was July. "Go," she said. I was too old to listen, but like a child I listened. She told me she'd follow the next day. We chose a spot we both knew in the woods. The giant walnut tree you used to like, Tateh, because you said it had human qualities. I didn't bother to say goodbye. I chose to believe what was easier. I waited. But. She never came.
Since then I've lived with the guilt of understanding too late that she thought she would have been a burden to me. I lost Fitzy. He was studying in Vilna, Tateh - someone who knew someone tol ~ Nicole Krauss

In 1976, Jimmy Carter - peanut farmer; carried his own suitcase, imagine that - somewhat tapped America's durable but shallow reservoir of populism. By 1980, ordinariness in high office had lost its allure. ~ George Will

I observe, I write, I try not to remember the life that I didn't want to loose but lost and have to remember, being here fills my heart with so much joy, even if the joy isn't mine, and at the end of the day I fill the suitcase with old news. ~ Jonathan Safran Foer

derelict. my voice cracked and yolk poured out. wind chimes rigid, no breeze, no song. my wings found hidden in your suitcase. pleas for help mistaken for a swan song. i'm stuffing pages from my journal down my throat as kindling. hoping the smoke will get the taste of you out of my mouth. he looks at me from across the room and all i want is to push him against the wall. ravage. ravage. carnage has never been more vogue. is it still art if it doesn't bring you to your knees? lover, let me prey at your altar. let me bare my fangs in praise. don't i look so pretty in a funeral shroud? i keep time with the click of my creaking bones. dance with me under the milky translucence of a world suffocating. how did you find me? i buried myself beneath the cicadas. is a girl trapped in glass still a prize?
let me get under your skin. i want to know what your fears taste like. i want to consume. ~ Taylor Rhodes

Weeks passed, my suitcase grew more and more conventional. "I've got something for you," I'd say to a teenager. "It's nothing huge, ~ David Sedaris

She pulls up to the drive way
Parks the car, Gets Out, Walks up to the door,
And embraces me with an iron hold
She is a friend and hugs me the same way she used to,
Her hands sliding into their old creases along my body


I let her into the house, knowing I could never refuse
As she walks through my doors, she reminds me why she stands in my living room
She tells me that she has returned because of my actions
I didn't learn from the last time
Its my fault


I should have been better, she berates me
I should have let people in, she tells me
I should not have gotten mad, she shares with me
I should not have locked myself away, she lets me know
I silently bear all the responsibility for her return


As we start to get deep into conversation, I realize she has brought her bags
Suitcase after suitcase lets me know she is here to stay
She tells me she will run my life from now on
She will make my schedule
She will direct how I act


She has come to my doors, breached my walls,
destroyed my defenses, and announced her ownership.
Crownless in my own kingdom
I am defeated.
This old friend is called Loneliness ~ Anonymous

One of the things I loved about Chris was his sense of humor, which seemed perfectly matched with mine, even at its most offbeat. April Fools' Day was always a major highlight. A month before our daughter was due, I woke him up in the middle of the night.
"Don't panic," I told him, "but I think I'm going into labor."
"Do we have a bag?" he asked, jumping up immediately.
"No, no, don't worry." I slipped out of bed and went to take a shower.
Chris immediately got dressed and, calmly but very quickly, gathered my clothes and packed a suitcase.
"I'm ready!" he announced, barging into the bathroom.
"Babe, do you know what day it is?" I asked sweetly. It was two A.M., April 1.
"Are you kidding me?" he said, disbelieving.
I laughed and plunged back into the shower.
He quickly got revenge by flushing the toilet, sending a burst of cold water across my body.
In retrospect, maybe I'd been a little cruel, but we did love teasing each other. At our wedding, we'd smooshed cake into each other's faces. That began a tradition that continued at each birthday--whether it was ours or not. The routine never seemed to get old. We'd giggle and laugh, chasing each other as if we were crazy people. Our friends and neighbors got used to it--and learned to stay out of the line of fire. ~ Taya Kyle

Treat yourself like a fat person with aches and pains and a suitcase full of excuses, and good luck
you'll stay exactly where you are. Train like an athlete and, though you may not look like one now, you will become one. ~ Chalene Johnson

I'm serious," I say. "I don't want to lose him."
"Then maybe you should go away for a little bit. After all, absence makes the heart grow horny, right?"
"That's not exactly how the saying goes."
"But it should, because you know it's true. If you go away for a couple of days, Ben won't know what to do with himself."
"Maybe you're right," I say, tossing more candy corn into my mouth (therapy in a bag).
"Damn straight, I am. Now, the biggest question: Can I fit into your suitcase? Because I really don't feel like staying here by myself. ~ Laurie Faria Stolarz

I'll tell you what I love doing more than anything: trying to pack myself in a small suitcase. I can hardly contain myself. ~ Tim Vine

Back in the day, in '91 or so, I tried to interview Fugazi for Rolling Stone, which the band felt stood for everything they detested about corporate infiltration of music. They said, 'We'll do the interview if you give us a million dollars of cash in a suitcase.' Which was their way of saying no. ~ Michael Azerrad

He floated into the air high above the sleeping forest, his green hat spinning a few feet above his head. In his hand was the open suitcase and out of it spilled a whole sky of stars. ~ Jandy Nelson

Fair,' Josie said. 'Then we'll talk about a man in a tan jacket holding a deerskin suitcase.' She clutched her left hand against her side like she had a pain there, but no pain registered on her face. ~ Joseph Fink

The greatest fear that haunts this city is a suitcase bomb, nuclear or germ. Many people carry small gas masks. The masses here seem to be resigned to the inevitable, believing an attack of major proportions will happen. ~ David Wilkerson

My internal dialogue went something like this: leave it open!… but that would be strange if someone walks by… who cares? I care! Why do I care? Just close it! You can't close it; you're in your underwear!! and if the door is closed you might… do… something… Here is the situation: I'm in my underwear in my room with Quinn and my alcohol laden inhibitions are low, low, low. It's like closing yourself up in a Godiva chocolate shop, of course you're going to sample something… Don't sample anything!! Don't even smell anything!! If you smell it you'll want to try it. Don't smell him anymore. No. More. Smelling. I hope he doesn't see the empty bottle of wine… Put some clothes on. Is it weird if I dress in front of him? I want some chocolate. Ah! Clothes!!

Finally the door closed even though I hadn't made a conscious decision to do so. I took a steadying breath then turned and followed, trailing some distance behind him and crossing to the opposite side of the room from where he was currently standing. I spotted my workout shirt on the bed and attempted to surreptitiously put it on.

Quinn's back was to me and he seemed to be meandering around the space; he didn't appear to be in any hurry. He paused for a short moment next to my laptop and stared at the screen.

He looked lost and a little vulnerable. Smash, smash, smash

I took this opportunity to rapidly pull on some sweatpants and a sweatshirt from my suitcase. The sweatshirt was on backwa ~ Penny Reid

I had a boom box, but I didn't go too far with it because I had a really, really big one. It was like the size of a suitcase, and I was just a little kid. ~ Michael Rapaport

He was carrying a suitcase with clothing in order to stay and another just like it with almost two thousand letters that she had written him. They were arranged by date in bundles ties with colored ribbons, and they were all unopened. ~ Gabriel Garcia Marquez

You'd better not be trying to steal that," she said. The boy shrugged and reached for the small rolling suitcase at her feet. "I wouldn't dare." "Because I'm an excellent yeller." "I don't doubt it." "And fighter. My cousin gave me this nail file ... the thing's just like a switchblade. ~ Ally Carter

Forever, Tom thought. Maybe he'd never go back to the States. It was not so much Europe itself as the evenings he had spent alone, here and in Rome, that made him feel that way. Evenings by himself simply looking at maps, or lying around on sofas thumbing through guidebooks. Evenings looking at his clothes - his clothes and Dickie's - and feeling Dickie's rings between his palms, and running his fingers over the antelope suitcase he had bought at Gucci's. He had polished the
suitcase with a special English leather dressing, not that it needed polishing
because he took such good care of it, but for its protection. He loved possessions,
not masses of them, but a select few that he did not part with. They gave a man
self-respect. Not ostentation but quality, and the love that cherished the quality.
Possessions reminded him that he existed, and made him enjoy his existence. It was as simple as that. And wasn't that worth something? He existed. Not many people in the world knew how to, even if they had the money. It really didn't take
money, masses of money, it took a certain security. He had been on the road to it,
even with Marc Priminger. He had appreciated Marc's possessions, and they were
what had attracted him to the house, but they were not his own, and it had been
impossible to make a beginning at acquiring anything of his own on forty dollars a week. It would have taken him the best years of his life, even if he had ec ~ Patricia Highsmith

see it spick and span, as if nothing had happened there. She looked at Shweta, with a 'thank you' and 'what was the need' in her eyes. As she scanned the room, her eyes caught Shweta's suitcase, all packed, and kept on the floor. "Shwets, I had a very long and tiring day. I am in no mood for any more surprises. Please tell me that you are not planning to throw ~ Amit Shankar

Rage swallowed remorse. Rage drop-kicked self-pity. Rage murdered sorrow. And then, like blood-red wine tucked into the refrigerator, rage chilled to become cold, calculating anger. Anger was a creature that arrived on her doorstep with a suitcase full of strategy and vengeance. It tipped its hat at her and hopped into her brain. It knocked on the Logic Department's door. It found a broken mirror somewhere in the crevices between her hippocampus and her hypothalamus, and it was wondering if somebody had misplaced it.

No retaliation? It scoffed. Think again, missy. ~ Angela Panayotopulos

Often, I'll do a quick workout in my hotel room consisting of exercises for the legs, glutes, abs, and arms with my own body weight. Also, I always have a jump rope, a medicine ball I can inflate, and a band in my suitcase. It's a great kit to have for travel. ~ Izabel Goulart

I was commissioned in 2003 to create an original show, and began developing 'Upwake.' 'Upwake' tells the story of Zero, a modern-day business man, going to work with his life in a suitcase, stuck between dream and reality and not able to decipher the two. I wanted 'Upwake' to have the same audiovisual qualities as a movie would. ~ Natasha Tsakos

This is being written abord the S.S. Augustus, three days at sea. My suitcase is full of peanut butter, and I am a fugitive from the suburbs of all large cities. ~ John Cheever

Her eyes travel down to where he's gripping the handle of her suitcase. "What're you doing?" she asks, blinking at him.
"You looked like you needed some help."
Hadley just stares at him.
"And this way it's perfectly legal," he adds with a grin. ~ Jennifer E. Smith