Tottering Trilogy Quotes

Some of the braver say I am mad. ~ Katlyn Charlesworth

Kyle clapped his hands together. "Goody! The Zoe dates back some 3000 years to when the Greek gods ruled."
"Who's Zoe?" I interjected.
Kyle huffed. "It's not a who, it's a what. ~ Nicole Gulla

Darling!" Alessandro exclaimed with a cold sneer as a police guard led him into a holding cell. "What are you doing here? Did you come to tell me that the crazy fog has lifted and you're ready to resume your place by my side?" "Not in this lifetime. That nut house is not my home, and you really are crazy if you think I'm going anywhere with you." Alessandro's eyes flickered dangerously. "Careful, sweetheart. You are still my wife. Let's not forget that, eh?" Bree shook her head. "You are unbelievable. Do you feel any remorse at all for what you did?" Alessandro clenched his jaw. "I believe I expressed my remorse quite thoroughly if you recall. I begged you to forgive me and I beg for nothing, Brianna. I laid myself bare and pleaded for you to understand but all you had for me were hateful words." "Oh, was I supposed to believe that little performance?" Bree snapped, forcing herself to block out the image of his hands cupping her face, his tears mingling with her own. "It's hard to know because I believed you when you looked me in the eye and told me you had nothing to do with what happened to Colin. ~ E. Jamie

Why else do you think we are permanently at war in various regions all over the world? And why is it the citizens of this country, one of the richest on earth, get poorer each year? ~ James Morcan

Prince Maxon surveyed the room and found me. Our eye met for a moment, and he smiled. ~ Kiera Cass

This is how Resistance disfigures love. The stew it creates is rich, it's colorful; Tennessee Williams could work it up into a trilogy. But is it love? If we're the supporting partner, shouldn't we face our own failure to pursue our unlived life, rather than hitchhike on our spouse's coattails? And if we're the supported partner, shouldn't we step out from the glow of our loved one's adoration and instead encourage him to let his own light shine? ~ Steven Pressfield

Subjective storytelling is now almost as common in the news media as it is in feature films, TV dramas, novels or theater shows. Journalists at their worst are self-centered storytellers who either knowingly or unknowingly bend truths into stories that match their personal beliefs or those of their employers. ~ Lance Morcan

It's hard to get a hug wrong. ~ Kiera Cass

He'd never encountered beauty of such magnitude and intensity. It was not allure, but grace, like the sight of land to a shipwrecked man. And he, who hadn't been on a capsized vessel since he was six - and that had only been an overturned canoe - suddenly felt as if he'd been adrift in the open ocean his entire life.
Someone spoke to him. He couldn't make out a single word.
There was something elemental to her beauty, like a mile-high thunderhead, a gathering avalanche, or a Bengal tiger prowling the darkness of the jungle. A phenomenon of inherent danger and overwhelming perfection.
He felt a sharp, sweet ache in his chest: His life would never again be complete without her. But he felt no fear, only excitement, wonder, and desire.
Christian's thoughts upon seeing Venetia for the first time (Beguiling the Beauty, Fitzhugh Trilogy 1, by Sherry Thomas) ~ Sherry Thomas

Gregory writes of Armageddon as if the Devil is getting off on using him literally to write that iniquitous beast into existence, into the flesh. I believe both Gregory and Jamie Stillingsworth are being used as vessels to bring about the end of days. ~ A.K. Kuykendall

Who are you after?"
"The snarky asshole one."
"Could you be a little more specific."
"The one who has a staff and throws their toys out of the pram that one."
"Ooh."
"Yeah. ~ Charon Lloyd-Roberts

Wraeththu have been with me for the greater part of my life. My first rather ham-fisted (and half-finished) stories about them began in my mid-teens. It wasn't until I was twenty-six that I began work properly on the full-length novel that became The Enchantments of Flesh and Spirit, first volume of the Wraeththu trilogy, which was published in 1987. This was followed by The Bewitchments of Love and Hate and the Fulfilments of Fate and Desire. ~ Storm Constantine

Moments of beauty sustain us through hours of ugliness. ~ Brent Weeks

I shouldn't even exist. Neither should they. What's the difference between destroying me and destroying them?" - Lexia Graham ~ Katheryn J. Avila

It's best to let her go, he says.
No, no, that's wrong. It's never right to give up on someone. ~ Lauren DeStefano

The general public long ago stopped looking for beauty in high culture. But it still has TV and the movies....you are far more likely to find genuinely mesmerising images and real beauty in big-budget Hollywood movies -- think of, say, Christopher Nolan's Interstellar or his Dark Knight Trilogy -- than in any European art-house ~ Sohrab Ahmari

I don't want one night. I want all nights. I want all of you, forever. ~ Amanda Hocking

Once you've invested hundreds of hours in creating a coherent universe, your story's grown to around a half-million words and can't be written as anything less than a trilogy. ~ Lynn Abbey

According to some, heroic deaths are admirable things. I've never been convinced by this argument, mainly because, no matter how cool, stylish, composed, unflappable, manly, or defiant you are, at the end of the day you're also dead. Which is a little too permanent for my liking. ~ Jonathan Stroud

I would normally never set out to write a trilogy. ~ David Brin

There were twenty-three females on the Keltar estate--not counting Gwen, Chloe, herself, or the cat--Gabby knew, because shortly after Adam had become visible last night, she'd met each and every one, from tiniest tot to tottering ancient.
It had begun with a plump, thirtyish maid popping in to pull the drapes for the evening and inquire if the MacKeltars "were wishing aught else?" The moment her bespectacled gaze had fallen on Adam, she'd begun stammering and tripping over her own feet. It had taken her a few moments to regain a semblance of coordination, but she'd managed to stumble from the library, nearly upsetting a lamp and a small end table in her haste.
Apparently it had been haste to alert the forces, for a veritable parade had ensued: a blushing curvaceous maid had come offering a warm-up of tear (they'd not been having any), followed by a giggling maid seeking a forgotten dust cloth (which--was anyone surprised?--was nowhere to be found), then a third one looking for a waylaid broom (yeah, right--they swept castles at midnight in Scotland--who believed that?), then a fourth, fifth, and sixth inquiring if the Crystal Chamber would do for Mr. Black (no one seemed to care what chamber might do for her; she half-expected to end up in an outbuilding somewhere). A seventh, eighth, and ninth had come to announce that his chamber was ready would he like an escort? A bath drawn? Help undressing? (Well, okay, maybe they hadn't actually asked the last, but their e ~ Karen Marie Moning

The hurt in you and the hurt in me makes us a bad combination. Two hurt and broken things can't ever make a whole thing. ~ Tara Brown

Only ur karma is imp. Not ur birth. Not ur sex. And certainly not the color of ur throat
Shiva Trilogy
The Mortals of Meluha pg 86 ~ Amish Tripathi

I can't wait for the day when we'll never have to say 'goodbye' to each other again. ~ Stephen Douglass

Ingra just kept a straight face he hoped Vilenthe was joking. "Anyway." Ingra tried to bring the topic full circle ~ Charon Lloyd-Roberts

Alessandro shrugged and pushed the blade in, dragging it down the man's skin, making him cry out. He struck him again with his fist, blood spurting onto Alessandro as well. "Did Arturo tell you that the mother of my child was in that limo? She's carrying my baby inside of her, and that her son was in the limo too? I'm sure he did. I'm sure he left explicit instructions as to who exactly you were supposed to dispose of, didn't he?"
"He'll kill me. I swear, he'll kill me," the man cried, tears mixing in with his
blood.
"Next, I'll take an eye, you snivelling little shit!" Alessandro growled, raising his bloody blade to the man's left eyeball. The unmistakable scent of urine filled the air.
Alessandro stepped back in disgust and turned to Jason and his other man, Marty, two of the best Dardano soldiers, loyal and efficient. They took his cue and slipped on their brass knuckles.
"Just say the words, ol' boy, and we'll stop this,"
"Fuck you," the man shouted.
Alessandro smirked. "Such defiance for a man who just pissed himself." He crossed his arms as Marty and Jason went to work.
It only took a minute. "All right. Okay! Stop! Stop! Fine, I'll talk! ~ E. Jamie

I believe that the whole idea of the consumer society is tottering. We've kept ourselves going by producing more and more goods, most of which people don't need. I'm anti-consumerism; I own four pairs of black Levis and that's it. ~ Paul Auster

That girl didn't have a moment's peace from the day Adriano Dardano set foot in Galway and started chasing her." Sister Brannigan said, as she led them around the convent garden. "Nice of Francesca to stay still for him to catch her then wasn't it?" Alessandro remarked dryly. "Mmph," the nun responded. "My grandfather loved Francesca," Alessandro insisted. "Far be it from me to speak ill of the dead. But let's call a spade a spade, hmm? Your grandfather was a charmer. Now perhaps he didn't realize just how naïve our Francesca was and how besotted with him she was." "Mmm, very generous of you," Alessandro grumbled. "I will say that on the times he brought some food he had made with Francesca up to the convent, it was clear he had a wonderful talent in the kitchen. Now mind ye, the Italian food was a bit rich for my taste but still, rather good." "I'm sure my grandfather's resting easier in his grave now that the holy sister has complimented his cooking," Alessandro whispered in Bree's ear making, her laugh out loud and Sister Brannigan turn to her in question. ~ E. Jamie

Three injured. Three dead.
That's what all the news reports said.
Six people caught bullets that night at Mystic - half of them died, while the other half lived.
The neurotic asshole that exists inside of me loves the symmetry of it. Three has always been my favorite number. Three books in a trilogy. Three sheets to the wind. They say the third time is the charm. Three strikes and you're out. Rock, paper, scissors... Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice... the good, the bad, and the ugly... need I go on?
Hell, there are three good Star Wars movies. I'll leave it up to you to figure out which ones I'm talking about.
They say deaths come in threes, too. ~ J.M. Darhower

Not…" Bree struggled for the right words. "All my life, I've just wanted someone to put me first. I thought Alessandro was that man. But even after everything Bernardo has done, I mean, Arturo wouldn't have ever shot Alessandro if Bernardo hadn't raised him to be a monster, even knowing that, Alessandro refuses to cut his ties with his father. So…yeah, I guess I do blame Alessandro for getting shot. God, that sounds so horrible." Bree covered her face with her hands again. ~ E. Jamie

Please, Tommy. Please. (Newt in The Death Cure, Page 250. The Maze Runner Trilogy). ~ James Dashner

My, my, and you accuse the Dardanos of trying to run the world. As you so succinctly put it, you have no desire to be a part of my life, which means you have no say in where I choose to live, sunshine. I, on the other hand, made no such declaration."
"God, I hate you," Bree seethed.
Alessandro smiled and tapped the end of her nose playfully, resisting the urge to tear her thick coat off of her and take her right against the wall. "You keep telling yourself that, love. We both know better. ~ E. Jamie

It was just the way he was made. ~ Ross Turner

And I told you that one night wan't enough.
Loki leaned down, kissing me deeply and pressing me to him. I didn't even attempt to resist. I wrapped my arms around his neck. It wasn't the we had kissed before, not as hungry or fevered. This was something different, nicer.
We were holding onto each other, knowing this might be the last time we could. It felt sweet and hopeful and tragic all at once.
When he stopped kissing me he rested his forehead against mine. He breathed as if struggling to catch his breath. i reached up and touched his face, his skin smooth and cool beneath my hand.
Loki lifted his head so he could look me in the eyes, and I saw something in them, something I'd never seen before. Something pure and unadulterated, and my heart seemed to grow with the warmth of my love for him.
I didn't know how it happened or when it had, but I knew it with complete certainty. I had fallen in love with Loki, more intensely than anything I had felt for anyone before. ~ Amanda Hocking

If what we are doing isn't enough for you, I need you to tell me now. ~ J.B. McGee

All the books I liked were basically about the same topic. White Niggers by Ingvar Ambjørnsen, Beatles and Lead by Lars Saabye Christensen, Jack by Alf Lundell, On the Road by Jack Kerouac, Last Exit to Brooklyn by Hubert Selby, Jr., Novel with Cocaine by M. Agayev, Colossus by Finn Alnaes, Lasso Round the Moon by Agnar Mykle, The History of Bestiality trilogy by Jens Bjørneboe, Gentlemen by Klas Östergren, Icarus by Axel Jensen, The Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger, Humlehjertene by Ola Bauer and Post Office by Charles Bukowski.

Books about young men who struggled to fit into society, who wanted more from life than routines, more from life than a family, in short, young men who hated middle-class values and sought freedom. They travelled, they got drunk, they read and they dreamed about their life's Great Passion or writing the Great Novel.

Everything they wanted I wanted too. ~ Karl Ove Knausgaard

He cannot do anything deliberate now. The strain of his whole weight on his outstretched arms hurts too much. The pain fills him up, displaces thought, as much for him as it has for everyone else who has ever been stuck to one of these horrible contrivances, or for anyone else who dies in pain from any of the world's grim arsenal of possibilities. And yet he goes on taking in. It is not what he does, it is what he is. He is all open door: to sorrow, suffering, guilt, despair, horror, everything that cannot be escaped, and he does not even try to escape it, he turns to meet it, and claims it all as his own. This is mine now, he is saying; and he embraces it with all that is left in him, each dark act, each dripping memory, as if it were something precious, as if it were itself the loved child tottering homeward on the road. But there is so much of it. So many injured children; so many locked rooms; so much lonely anger; so many bombs in public places; so much vicious zeal; so many bored teenagers at roadblocks; so many drunk girls at parties someone thought they could have a little fun with; so many jokes that go too far; so much ruining greed; so much sick ingenuity; so much burned skin. The world he claims, claims him. It burns and stings, it splinters and gouges, it locks him round and drags him down…

All day long, the next day, the city is quiet. The air above the city lacks the usual thousand little trails of smoke from cookfires. Hymns rise from the temple. Fa ~ Francis Spufford

Maybe he was as mad as he said he was, but she could see only a species of miserable fright. Suddenly, like the thud of a boxing glove on her mouth, she saw how close to the edge of everything he was. The agency was tottering, that was bad enough, and now, on top of that, like a grisly dessert following a putrid main course, his marriage was tottering too. She felt a rush of warmth for him, for this man she had sometimes hated and had, for the last three hours at least, feared. A kind of epiphany filled her. Most of all, she hoped he would always think he had been as mad as hell, and not ... not the way his face said he felt. ~ Stephen King

To prosper, your superior must prosper. ~ Pierce Brown

Several pallets had been pulled to the middle of the open space and stacked two high with a large blanket over them. The implication stunned her – it was so unexpected, so unlike what she believed about him – her mind only registered denial.
She heard Ash bolt the door and remove his leather jacket, felt his hands on her shoulders as he turned her around to face him. He stroked her cheek with one hand while the other reached for his belt. "My sweet, innocent Sage," he whispered, and still her thoughts could gain no traction.
There was the snap of a release from his belt, and though she continued to meet his eyes, she saw a sheathed dagger in the hand he raised between them.
"Tonight I must teach you how to kill a man. ~ Erin Beaty

Each time I do a trilogy it's ten years out of my life. I'll finish Episode III and I'll be 60. And the next 20 years after that I want to spend doing something other than Star Wars. If at 80 I'm still lively and having a good time and think I can work for another 10 years between 80 and 90, I might consider it. But don't count on it. There's nothing written, and it's not like I'm completing something. I'd have to start from scratch. The idea of a third trilogy was more of a media thing than it was me. ~ George Lucas

It is not by man's power that you are here, but by a greater Power. That Power will stay with you. ~ Lena Karynn Tesla

What man is such a coward he would not rather fall once than remain forever tottering? ~ Cormac McCarthy

I turned to face Audrey, and everything I loved was right there in her eyes, the memories tangible: the schooldays and sleepovers, the cheap bottles of wine and sappy chick flicks. She was there for my mother's drunken relapses, there to hold me until I fell asleep the first time the ex from Seattle hit me. It was all there, and my God, each memory was suddenly sacred and the sun rose and set upon it. ~ Rachael Wade

He can't take his eyes off the stars, but I can't take mine off his face. ~ Amie Kaufman

Some years later I met Queen Elizabeth II, in our capital Ottawa at a Canada Day celebration. David Foster and I were doing the show and we both met her afterwards. She told me how much she loved the Canadian Railroad Trilogy. She looked at me and said, "oh, that song", and then said again, "that song", and that was all she said. ~ Gordon Lightfoot

Solomon, you will remember that although I agreed to ally myself and my coven with yours, that does not mean you have any semblance of authority over me. We have a truce, and I conduct my own actions as I see fit, whether that involves Becca or not.'

'And you remember I will take your coven down the moment you step over the line," Solomon hissed." ~Solomon and Rekesh ~ Annabell Cadiz

Squawking pierced the funeral's hushed atmosphere as hundreds of black birds flew overhead in a rush of beating wings. They settled on a cluster of leafless trees that overlooked the parking lot. Even the trees were wearing black. ~ Michelle Hodkin