The Hush Series Quotes

Many people want to live in an alternate world. As a writer, it's my job to put them there. ~ Devlin De La Chapa On Writing The HUSH Series

Vespers

Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Droops on the little hands little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.

God bless Mummy. I know that's right.
Wasn't it fun in the bath tonight?
The cold's so cold, and the hot's so hot.
Oh! God bless Daddy -- I quite forgot.

If I open my fingers a little bit more,
I can see Nanny's dressing-gown on the door.
It's a beautiful blue, but it hasn't a hood.
Oh! God bless Nanny and make her good.

Mine has a hood, and I lie in bed,
And pull the hood right over my head,
And I shut my eyes, and I curl up small,
And nobody knows that I'm there at all.

Oh! Thank you, God, for a lovely day.
And what was the other I had to say?
I said "Bless Daddy," so what can it be?
Oh! Now I remember. God bless Me.

Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed.
Droops on the little hands little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers. ~ A.A. Milne

Profound silence; silence so deep that even their breathings were conspicuous in the hush. ~ Mark Twain

Hush," said January. "We may be old, but we're not silly. Satan is a catchall term. It gives identity to our theory of a centralized leadership. Call him what you want, a maximum leader, a caudillo. A Genghis Khan or Sitting Bull. Or a council of wise men, or warlords. The concept is sound. Logical. ~ Jeff Long

As they ran to the barn and began the careful climb up the steep ladder, Lily realized she had accidentally put on snow boots in her hurry. When they reached the top, the quiet hush of the still hayloft gave them that whisper-in-the-library feeling. ~ Kate Willis

Don't deny that you have feelings for this girl! We've seen it!" Andrew said.
"Hush, you're annoying," Oliver muttered. "I assure you that my relationship with Sophie doesn't overstep the boundaries of friendship, not that it's any of your business. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to ask her politely and cordially to come and sleep in my bed. ~ Zeinab Alayan

The long-drawn virgin vales; the mild blue hill-sides; as over these there steals the hush, the hum; you almost swear that play-wearied children lie sleeping in these solitudes, in some glad May-time, when the flowers of the woods are plucked. And all this mixes with your most mystic mood; so that fact and fancy, half-way meeting, interpenetrate, and form one seamless whole. Nor ~ Herman Melville

It would be a mistake, however, to think that Connectors are the only people who matter in a social epidemic. Roger Horchow sent out a dozen faxes promoting his daughter's friend's new restaurant. But he didn't discover that restaurant. Someone else did and told him about it. At some point in the rise of Hush Puppies, the shoes were discovered by Connectors, who broadcast the return of Hush Puppies far and wide. but who told the Connectors about Hush Puppies? It's possible that Connectors learn about new information by an entirely random process, that because they know so many people they get access to new things wherever they pop up. If you look closely at social epidemics, however, it becomes clear that just as there are people we rely upon to connect us to other people, there are also people we rely upon to connect us with new information. There are people specialists, and there are information specialists. ~ Malcolm Gladwell

What I'm talking about is more than recompense for past injustices - more than a handout, a payoff, hush money, or a reluctant bribe. What I'm talking about is a national reckoning that would lead to spiritual renewal. Reparations would mean the end of scarfing hot dogs on the Fourth of July while denying the facts of our heritage. Reparations would mean the end of yelling "patriotism" while waving a Confederate flag. Reparations would mean a revolution of the American consciousness, a reconciling of our self-image as the great democratizer with the facts of our history. ~ Ta-Nehisi Coates

One of my favourite stories is about an old woman and her husband – a man mean as Mondays, who scared her with the violence of his temper and the shifting nature of his whims. She was only able to keep him satisfied with her unparalleled cooking, to which he was a complete captive. One day, he bought her a fat liver to cook for him, and she did, using herbs and broth. But the smell of her own artistry overtook her, and a few nibbles became a few bites, and soon the liver was gone. She had no money with which to purchase a second one, and she was terrified of her husband's reaction should he discover that his meal was gone. So she crept to the church next door, where a woman had been recently laid to rest. She approached the shrouded figure, then cut into it with a pair of kitchen shears and stole the liver from her corpse.

That night, the woman's husband dabbed his lips with a napkin and declared the meal the finest he'd ever eaten. When they went to sleep, the old woman heard the front door open, and a thin wail wafted through the rooms. Who has my liver? Whooooo has my liver?

The old woman could hear the voice coming closer and closer to the bedroom. There was a hush as the door swung open. The dead woman posed her query again.

The old woman flung the blanket off her husband.

– He has it! She declared triumphantly.

Then she saw the face of the dead woman, and recognized her own mouth and eyes. She looked down at her abd ~ Carmen Maria Machado

Taking Ogen's temperature, I said, "Right on. I vote we swim it."

He whimpered. "No swim - NO SWIM!"

Death commanded him in that foreign tongue, and he shut up.

"Well, aren't you a good wittle doggie, Ogen?" I said. "You know how to sit, stay, and hush even better than Lark's wolves."

He stared, disbelieving that I'd just insulted him like that. "I am the DESECRATOR! I sit upon Lucifer's knee!"

"That makes total sense, Scooby."

With a puzzled expression, Death said, "You taunt him at your peril."

"What's he going to do? Kill me?" Over my shoulder I told Ogen, "Get in line, dick. ~ Kresley Cole

But that's the thing about words. Once you've said them, there's no going back. ~ Dylan Farrow

Patch was dressed in the usual: black shirt, black jeans and a thin silver necklace that flashed against his dark complexion. His sleeves were pushed up his forearms, and I could see his muscles working as he punched buttons. He was tall and lean and hard, and I wouldn't have been surprised if under his clothes he bore several scars, souvenirs from street fights and other reckless behavior.
Not that I wanted a look under his clothes. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

I like the evening in India, the one magic moment when the sun balances on the rim of the world, and the hush descends, and ten thousand civil servants drift homeward on a river of bicycles, brooding on the Lord Krishna and the cost of living. ~ James Cameron

A hush of expectancy descended in the chamber as all waited to hear the request. What treasure could he want? Laren inventoried in her mind all the precious trappings of the castle she could think of -jewels, weapons, art-and she saw that the others must be doing the same. What did the Sacoridians possess that would be good enough for the Eletian prince?
"My brother," Graelalea said, "requires many pounds of dark chocolate fudge and Dragon Droppings. We must visit the Master of Chocolate. ~ Kristen Britain

Now I'll just have to do without."
She raised her eyebrows. "I'm sorry?"
Then Maximus did something very strange: he went on one knee before her.
"This isn't right at all," he said, continuing to glare as if he found it all her fault.
She sat up. "What are you doing?"
"Artemis Greaves, will you do me the honor of - "
"Are you insane?" she demanded. "What of your father? Your conviction that you must marry for the dukedom?"
"My father is dead," he said softly. "And I've decided the dukedom can go hang."
"But - "
"Hush," he snapped. "I'm trying to propose to you properly even without my mother's necklace."
"But why?" she asked ...
"I know that this is rather disappointing," he said. "But I intend to make you respectable. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Summer time an' the livin' is easy, Fish are jumpin' an' the cotton is high. Oh, yo' daddy's rich, and yo' ma' is good-lookin', So hush, little baby, don' yo' cry. ~ Ira Gershwin

Rachel," came a raspy voice from the upper level, and both Trent and I turned. It was Quen, wrapped in a blanket as if it was a death shroud, the black-haired intern at his side, supporting him. His hair was plastered to his skull with sweat, and I could see him wavering as he stood there. "Don't touch Trenton," he said, his gravelly voice clear in the hush, "or I'm going to have to come down there ... and smack you around. ~ Kim Harrison

Cease, stranger, cease those witching notes,
The art of syren choirs;
Hush the seductive voice that floats
Across the trembling wires.
Music's ethereal power was given
Not to dissolve our clay,
But draw Promethean beams from heaven
To purge the dross away. ~ John Henry Newman

You're . . . you're going back to the Marines?" Alston stuttered. "I thought SOCOM was defunct."
"It's MARSOC now," Ty mumbled.
"But that's special operations. You don't have a choice?"
"No. I don't." He studied the orders. "I report in forty-eight hours. Immediate deployment."
Zane stood. His hands shook as he gripped the edge of the desk. Ty looked up, seeking Zane out. Zane could see it in Ty's eyes. There was no choice. No way to wriggle out of it. No way for anyone to save him.
"Oh God, Ty," Zane whispered.
Ty stared at him for a moment longer as the others broke into outraged babbling. Then Ty shook himself. He tossed the packet of orders onto the desk and stalked over to Zane.
He grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him.
The room spun to a halt. The babble ground to a stunned hush.
Ty's hands moved to the small of his back and he held him tight, bending him just enough for Zane to have to wrap his arms around him to keep from falling. He kissed him again. In front of their coworkers. In front of King and Country and anyone who would watch. It was the first purely honest kiss they'd ever shared.
And it was a kiss good-bye. ~ Abigail Roux

The philosopher's hesitation about language is a chastening reminder that we ought not place too much faith in whatever our religious construct is. When the construct fails us, as it surely will, we will remember that there was presumption in giving our heart so wholly to whatever it was we had said about God anyway. And when the construct fails us, maybe we will glimpse the God beneath the picture we had faithfully, longingly, lovingly made. Hush. In this poverty of expression, thou findest that He is all. ~ Lauren F. Winner

Hush, child, hush! Well, then, it is my darling! wisht, dry thy eyes--there's a joy; kiss me. What! it won't? Kiss me, Hareton! Damn thee, kiss me! By God, as if I would rear such a monster! As sure as I'm living, I'll break the brat's neck. ~ Emily Bronte

If you're a Republican, just imagine what you would have done if Obama slept with a porn star months after Michelle gave birth to Malia, paid hush money to the porn star, and lied to America about doing so. ~ Ed Krassenstein

Staff silenced her with a hot kiss. "Hush," he whispered, taking her closer into his arms. "Mary, we have waited long enough. I want you, dearest, to make up for the lonely hours, and countless advice, and worry that your kings and cursed father would totally ruin our life together. And for the wasted years. Tonight, Mary, we are going to begin catching up-and it will take a long, long time for us to be even ... ~ Karen Harper

The days are cold, the nights are long, The North wind sings a doleful song; Then hush again upon my breast; All merry things are now at rest, Save thee, my pretty love! ~ Dorothy Wordsworth

This is a sensationally bad idea, Ash." "So you said. About twenty times now." "You remember what Marielle did to Hush?" "Maw's teeth, Corvere. When my da got tortured in the Thorn Towers of Elai, they chopped his bollocks off and fed them to the scabdogs. What's your excuse? ~ Jay Kristoff

What what," Trapis said as he hurried over to tend to her, his bare feet slapping on the floor. "What what. Hush hush. ~ Patrick Rothfuss

Elm

BY SYLVIA PLATH

I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root:
It is what you fear.
I do not fear it: I have been there.

Is it the sea you hear in me,
Its dissatisfactions?
Or the voice of nothing, that was your madness?

Love is a shadow.
How you lie and cry after it
Listen: these are its hooves: it has gone off, like a horse.

All night I shall gallop thus, impetuously,
Till your head is a stone, your pillow a little turf,
Echoing, echoing.

Or shall I bring you the sound of poisons?
This is rain now, this big hush.
And this is the fruit of it: tin-white, like arsenic.

I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets.
Scorched to the root
My red filaments burn and stand, a hand of wires.

Now I break up in pieces that fly about like clubs.
A wind of such violence
Will tolerate no bystanding: I must shriek.

The moon, also, is merciless: she would drag me
Cruelly, being barren.
Her radiance scathes me. Or perhaps I have caught her.

I let her go. I let her go
Diminished and flat, as after radical surgery.
How your bad dreams possess and endow me.

I am inhabited by a cry.
Nightly it flaps out
Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.

I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
All day I feel its soft, feather ~ Sylvia Plath

When the sparrow sings its final refrain, the hush is felt nowhere more deeply than in the heart of man. ~ Don Williams

The Laughing Thrush

O nameless joy of the morning

tumbling upward note by note out of the night
and the hush of the dark valley
and out of what has not been there

song unquestioning and unbounded
yes this is the place and the one time
in the whole of before and after
with all of memory waking into it

and the lost visages that hover
around the edge of sleep
constant and clear
and the words that lately have fallen silent
to surface among the phrases of some future
if there is a future

here is where they all sing the first daylight
whether or not there is anyone listening ~ W.S. Merwin

'Be comfortable with who you are', reads the headline on the Hush Puppies poster. Are they mad? If people were comfortable with who they were, they'd never buy any products except the ones they needed, and then where would the advertising industry be? ~ Charles Edwards

Imagine if one of them were turned. Imagine if one could be bought.'
'But they're chosen just so's they can't be bought ... '
'History ... ' Jacobs spoke with terse authority. Brought Ori to a hush. 'Is all full. And dripping. With the corpses. Of them who trusted the incorruptible. ~ China Mieville

The minutes dragged by, and a hush fell over the village. This was the time Azzie loved best, the minutes approaching midnight, when the complexition of the world changed, when the sanctities of evening are forgotten, and the saving grace of dawn was still far away. It was in these hours, between midnight and dawn, that evil always felt most at peace with itself, most experimental, most in need of strangeness and sin, most in need of producing the ever-pervading perversions which needed constant renewal, and the doing of which was a delight to the evil soul. ~ Roger Zelazny

What do I have to do to convince you that I'm only using Dabria for one reason, one only reason: Destroy Hank, bit by bit if is necessary,and make him pay for all the things he has done to harm the girl I love? ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

The song continued through the second verse, telling the story of a young couple who couldn't be together in the bright light of day, but who had walked hand-in-hand under the stars every night. Lovers who weren't tough enough or brave enough to make it work, who let the world tear them apart. Lovers who were already dying inside from regret.
Not the most original idea, but love songs seldom are. The pain we feel when something breaks inside of us cuts everyone just as deep, no matter how many millions of people have felt it before. This story was my story, but the hush of the audience told me that the crowd was attaching their own thoughts and memories to my words. There's no moment of connection purer ~ Peter Styles