The Bridge Series Quotes

As long as that song plays, I get to put my hands on you, and I can't guarantee I'm going to be a complete gentleman about it. ~ Meredith Wild

Just give me one night, Vanessa. One night, and I won't let you regret it. ~ Meredith Wild

The Outing
An outburst of anger near the road, a refusal to speak on the path, a silence in the pine woods, a silence across the old railroad bridge, an attempt to be friendly in the water, a refusal to end the argument on the flat stones, a cry of anger on the steep bank of dirt, a weeping among the bushes. ~ Lydia Davis

According to Auster, proximity is deceptive, and anonymity is not only the misfortune of the masses, of the cities, but also a cancer gnawing away the family and marital unit. Human contact often masks a gulf that only death or distance can bridge. We are separated from others by those very things that also connect us; we are separated from ourselves by the illusion of self-knowledge. Just as we must forget ourselves in order to reach a certain level of self-truth, we must also leave others in order to find them in the prism of memory and separation. That which is closest is often the most enigmatic, and distance, like mourning and wandering, is also an instrument of redemption. ~ Pascal Bruckner

The hardest thing to learn in life is which bridge to cross and which to burn. ~ David Russell

Ghostly, in his mind, Ben heard the librarian reading to the little ones: Who is that trip-trapping upon my bridge? The children lean forward, all the old fascination glistening in their eyes: will the monster be bested ... or will It feed? ~ Stephen King

When I think about the future, I know that the most fantastic things are too awesome to even imagine today. Great entrepreneurs are like Indiana Jones: They take leaps before seeing the bridge because they know that if they don't, someone else will get that holy grail. That holy grail is yours for the taking. ~ Sophia Amoruso

[ ... ] leaving for a day or two that hopeless sense of loss which makes beauty what it is: a distant lone tree against golden heavens; ripples of light on the inner curve of a bridge; a thing impossible to capture. ~ Vladimir Nabokov

Just be careful. Passion is a bridge that connects love and hate. When you're standing in the middle of that bridge, don't let yourself get turned around. You've got to make sure you know which direction you're heading. Watch yourself. ~ Jay Bell

Washington Bridge. The components were then lowered into the Thirtieth Street hole by a special crane that could withstand ~ David Grann

Life is a journey along a highway with the bridge out. ~ Malcolm Watts

I have a black Grandma and white Grandma. My white Grandma lives in Fort Lauderdale, paints, and teaches bridge. She's wonderful. My black Grandma, equally wonderful, is my neighbor across the street, Bobbie, who's always insisted that I call her Grandma, and honestly, over the years she's become a real Grandma to me. ~ Davy Rothbart

On Waterloo Bridge where we said our goodbyes,
the weather conditions bring tears to my eyes.
I wipe them away with a black woolly glove
And try not to notice I've fallen in love
On Waterloo Bridge I am trying to think:
This is nothing. you're high on the charm and the drink.
But the juke-box inside me is playing a song
That says something different. And when was it wrong?
On Waterloo Bridge with the wind in my hair
I am tempted to skip. You're a fool. I don't care.
the head does its best but the heart is the boss-
I admit it before I am halfway across ~ Wendy Cope

We were tempted to have T-shirts made that said on the front: "We May Not Be Hip Enough To Drink Here, But We Are Rich Enough To Live Here," and on the back in larger letters: "Fuck Off Back To Clapham." Like giving the finger to the bridge-and-tunnel crowd. ~ Simon Majumdar

My eyes are wide open
I will not squash the pain I feel
I will not succumb to my disbelief
I will not hide from my depression
I will not disavow my anger
I will not turn away
I will expand the love I feel within
And if I don't yet feel the love within
I will expand my sense of connection
I will be a bridge to hope
I will let humanity sing
-I am a Magnificent Woman ~ Melanie Lutz

Let's start the next chapter, baby. ~ Samantha Young

Humor [in a scene] is not jokes. It is that attitude toward being alive without which you would long ago have jumped off the 59th Street Bridge. ~ Michael Shurtleff

Lie on the bridge and watch the water flowing past. Or run, or wade through the swamp in your red boots. Or roll yourself up and listen to the rain falling on the roof. It's very easy to enjoy yourself. ~ Tove Jansson

Jordan pinched the bridge of his nose. 'The only decent piece of trivia I know is that it's against the law to cross the state boundaries of Iowa with a duck on your head. ~ Jodi Picoult

Every bridge is a holy saint; it helps everyone who comes to him and protects them from the precipices! ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

I think a marvelous stunt would be to have your best friend (or the most critical acquaintance) take some candid color snapshots of you from all angles, dressed just as you usually appear at, say, six in the evening. The same hairdo, the same makeup, and if possible the same expression on your face. Be honest! Be sure to have her take the rear views, too.
There ought to be some other shots of you wearing your best going-out-to-dinner dress, or your favorite bridge-with-the-girls costume - hat, gloves, bag, and costume jewelry. Everything. Then have that roll of film developed and BLOWN UP. You can't see much in a tiny snapshot. An eight-by-ten will show you the works - and you probably won't be very happy with it. Sit down and take a long look at that strange woman.
Is she today's with-it person - elegant, poised, groomed, glowing with health? Or is she a plump copy of Miss 1950? Is she sleek, or bumpy in the wrong places? How is her posture? Does she look better from the front than from the back? Does she stand gracefully? […] Feet together or one slightly in front of the other, is the most graceful stance.
[…]
I always pin my bad notices on my mirror. How about keeping those eight-by-ten candid shots around your dressing room for a while as you dress? ~ Joan Crawford

So you have chosen aloneness. You have chosen the security and the relative freedom of solitude, because there is no risk involved. You can stay up every night and watch your TV shows and eat ice cream out of the box and scroll through your Tumblr and never let your brain sit still, not even for a moment. You can fill your days up with books and coffees and trips to the store where you forget what you wanted the second you walk in the automatic sliding door. You can do so many little, pointless things throughout the day that all you can think of is how badly you want to sleep, how heavy your whole body is, how much your feet hurt. You can wear yourself out again and again on the pavement, and you do, and it feels good. No one will ever bridge that gap and point to your stomach or your hair or your eyes in the mirror and magically make you see the wonderful things about getting to be next to you. And maybe that's it, after all, this fear that no one will ever truly feel about you the way you want to be felt about. Maybe what you want is someone to make you love yourself, to put sense into all that positive rhetoric, to make it so the aloneness of TV and blasting music in your ears at all times isn't the most happy place you can think of. Maybe you want someone who makes you so sure of how wonderful things are that you cannot help but to tell them your feelings first, even at the risk of being humiliated. Because you will know that, when you're telling them you love them, what ~ Chelsea Fagan

Crossing the small wooden bridge, just past the rubble, Gabe ducked off to the left and swooped underneath into hiding. Once sure he was secure, and could not be seen by those that passed overhead, Gabe collapsed on to the dirt and grass. Turning on his side, his body convulsed, and relieved itself of any food that had been in his belly. Rachel was right. He was a liability. Anyone who tried to protect him ended up paying a high price. He didn't know if his old friends were dead, but he was certain whatever fate had found them must have been bad. ~ Wendy Owens

That was the thing about water under a bridge. It could get caught up in a bunch of debris, or it could sweep everything away, leaving nothing behind; it all depended on the ferocity of the storm. ~ Megan Hart

Today, from the bridge, the East River is sparkling. The money is swirling around the tall buildings like tides or like tithes, And I wonder, does anyone swim in this river, I wonder, does anyone pray? ~ Katy Lederer

We are here. We will work together for what purpose seems to us right. We will work with calm, and with tolerance and, please God, with saving laughter.

'We know something of men. We know of evil, and of sloth, and of self-seeking ambition. We accept it, and will use what we have of wit and good faith to overcome it.

'And if we do not overcome it, still we are the road; we are the bridge; we are the conduit. For something have we been born. For something have we been brought here. And if we hold firm, the men who peopled our earth need not be ashamed, when the reckoning comes, to say, we worked with all we had been given; and for one another.' ~ Dorothy Dunnett

I need to keep sharp. But when you're this damned close to me, all I think about is you. I think about your mouth, and I think about your breasts, and I think about your pink tongue and your legs wrapped around me. I think about touching you and you touching me
and then I look at you and you're giving me that look
yes, that one, just there, as if you want me to kiss you
please stop
He exhaled on a hiss, tipping his head back against the wood and pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose. ~ Shana Abe

If all my bridge coach ever told me was that I was 'satisfactory,' I would have no hope of ever getting better. How would I know who was the best? How would I know what I was doing differently? ~ Bill Gates

[Author's note:] When I decided to write this book, I worried that my privilege would make me blind to certain truths, that I would get things wrong, as I may well have. I worried that, as a non-immigrant and non-Mexican, I had no business writing a book set almost entirely in Mexico, set entirely among migrants. I wished someone slightly browner than me would write it. But then I thought, 'If you're a person who has the capacity to be a bridge, why not be a bridge?' So I began.

In the early days of my research, before I'd fully convinced myself that I should undertake the telling of this story, I was interviewing a very generous scholar, a remarkable woman who was chair of the Chicana and Chicano studies Department at San Diego State University. Her name is Norma Iglesias Prieto, and I mentioned my doubts to her. I told her I felt compelled, but unqualified, to write this book. She said, "Jeanine. We need as many voices as we can get, telling this story." Her encouragement sustained me for the next four years.

I was careful and deliberate in my research. I traveled extensively on both sides of the border and learned as much as I could about Mexico and migrants, about people living throughout the borderlands. The statistics in this book are all true, and though I changed some names, most of the places are real, too. But the characters, while representative of the folks I met during my travels, are fictional. ~ Jeanine Cummins

Drafting is like painting the Golden Gate Bridge.
The closer you get to the end, the more you start to worry about the beginning. ~ Peter James West

On Friday noon, July twentieth, 1714, the finest bridge in all Peru broke and precipitated five travellers into the gulf below. ~ Thornton Wilder

As a gift to His people, the King painted their seven colors in the shape of a bridge in the sky, as a symbol for the real bridge that the people had just crossed. ~ E. Mellyberry

What need the bridge much broader than the flood? The fairest grant is the necessity. ~ William Shakespeare

Recently, John and I got to go to Selma and perform it on the same bridge that Martin Luther King walked over. Once a landmark of a divided nation, the spirit of this bridge now for all people regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation or social status. This bridge was built on hope and welded with compassion. Common ~ John Legend

And now, dear reader, the story is over. It is time for you to cross the bridge once more and return to the world you came from. This river, which is and is not the Thames, must continue flowing without you. You have haunted here long enough, and besides, you surely have rivers of your own to attend to? ~ Diane Setterfield

She dreamed of Venice. However, it wasn't a city alive with stars dripping like liquid gold into canals, or Bougainvillea spilling from flowerpots like overfilled glasses of wine. In this dream, Venice was without color. Where pastel palazzi once lined emerald lagoons, now, gray, shadowy mounds of rubble paralleled murky canals. Lovers could no longer share a kiss under the Bridge of Sighs; it had been the target of an obsessive Allied bomb in search of German troops. The only sign of life was in Piazza San Marco, where the infamous pigeons continued to feed. However, these pigeons fed not on seeds handed out by children, but on corpses rotting under the elongated shadow of the Campanile. ~ Pamela Allegretto

The views from Waterloo Bridge are amazing - you can see so much of London. ~ Amelia Warner

It has taken many years for the game of go to initiate me into the freedom of slipping between yesterday, today, and tomorrow. From one stone to the next, from black to white, the thousands of stones have ended up building a bridge far into the infinite expanse of China. ~ Shan Sa

There was no one else to blame anymore. No Bores or Old Ladies or Nortons, or Assassins waiting at the bridge. And there was no place to hide-no place across any river for a boatman to take us.
Our life would be what we made of it-nothing more, nothing less.
Baboons.
Baboons.
They build their own cages, we could almost hear the Pigman whisper, as he took his children with him. ~ Paul Zindel

My daughter was sixteen," she went on. Tears ran over the bridge of her nose and onto the block, but her voice remained strong and loud. "Sixteen, when you burned her. Her name was Kaleen, and she had eyes like thunderclouds. I still hear her voice in my dreams."
The king jerked his chin to the executioner, who stepped forward.
"My sister was thirty-six. Her name was Liessa, and she had two boys who were her joy."
The executioner raised his ax.
"My neighbor and his wife were seventy. Their names were Jon and Estrel. They were killed because they dared to try and protect my daughter when your men came for her."
Rena Goldsmith was still reciting her list of the dead when the ax fell. ~ Sarah J. Maas

You are driving home.
You listen to 'Tongue Tied' by Grouplove.
Someone side-swipes the Ferrari.
You almost strike three pedestrians and crash into a Dunkin' Donuts.
This is somewhere near the Brooklyn Bridge and you find out - later - the lady who hit you, she died.
She was old.
"Wasn't wearing her glasses," someone on the street says.
"She was basically driving blind," the police officer says. "I'm surprised this didn't happen earlier."
An EMT examines you.
You try and act normal.
"Am I hurt?" you ask.
"You're not hurt," the EMT says.
You talk to the cops.
"Am I in trouble?" you ask.
"You're not in trouble," a young cop says.
You freak out a little.
You can smell pomade in your sweat.
"Everything is under control," someone says - another police officer.
You freak out some more. ~ Mike Kleine

I go to look up the elevation of the Golden Gate bridge on Wikipedia, and an hour later I'm watching four guys in lucha libre masks fuck a dolphin. ~ Jon Konrath

For the boy on the bridge. And for all the boys for a hundred generations who drop their lines into the swift dark water to catch the leviathans lurking in the deep: These are the secrets. ~ Rick Yancey

When they are like this, I remember what the man on the bridge had told me: "The French are all right in France." What he meant, he explained, was that when the French are in the colonies they lose their natural inclination toward fraternity, equality, and liberty. They leave those ideals behind in Mother France, leaving them free to treat us like bastards in the land of our birth. ~ Monique Truong

Sixers pour in from every edge of the bridge. We humans back into the center as they lumber toward us. I have my knives out, but they might as well be toothpicks pointed at an army of grizzlies. "Penryn!" I look up to see Raffe watching me with anguish in his eyes as his Watchers hold him at a safe distance from us. ~ Susan Ee

It's about people coming to an understanding, a realisation that we must bridge the gap, build bridges and make people aware of what's happening. The award gives me the kind of pride and understanding that most people wouldn't think of. It is strengthening the Yolgnu people, but it's also giving strength to Balanda people who otherwise don't have that kind of understanding ... ~ Mandawuy Yunupingu

We all live with this terrible, heartbreaking hypocrisy in Christianity, when the teaching finally leaves us in th dust. How do we die before we die? How do we love our neighbors as ourselves? How do we bridge the gap between what we believe and what we can actually live? ~ Cynthia Bourgeault

Pablito, the Bible was meant to be a bridge, not a wedge. It's the greatest love story ever told, about God's enduring and unconditional love for his creation
love beyond all reason. To understand it, you have to read it with love as the standard. Love God. Love your neighbor. Love yourself. Always remember that. ~ Alex Sanchez

...but you are too much for them: the weak in courage are strong in cunning; and one by one, you have absorbed and have captured and dishonored, and have distilled of your deliverers the most ruinous of all poisons; people hear Beethoven in concert halls, or over a bridge game, or to relax; Cézannes are hung on walls, reproduced, in natural wood frames; van Gogh is the man who cut off his ear and whose yellows became recently popular in window decoration. ~ James Agee

Venice appeared to me as in a recurring dream, a place once visited and now fixed in memory like images on a photographer's plates so that my return was akin to turning the leaves of a portfolio: a scene of the gondolas moored by the railway station; the Grand Canal in twilight; the Rialto bridge; the Piazza San Marco; the shimmering, rippling wonderland; the bustling water traffic; the fish market; the Lido beach and boardwalk; Teeny in the launch; the singing, gesturing gondoliers; the bourgeois tourists drinking coffee at Florian's; the importunate beggars; the drowned girl's ghost haunting the Bridge of Sighs; the pigeons, mosquitoes and fetor of decay. ~ Gary Inbinder