Willart Arms Quotes

I realized the shells were talking in a voice I recognized. I should have; it was my own. Had I always known that? I suppose I had. On some level, unless we're mad, I think most of us know the various voices of our own imaginations.
And of our memories, of course. They have voices, too. Ask anyone who has ever lost a limb or a child or a long-cherished dream. Ask anyone who blames himself for a bad decision, usually made in a raw instant (an instant that is most commonly red). Our memories have voices, too. Often sad ones that clamor like raised arms in the dark. ~ Stephen King

One day I'm going to find a way to rid you of that beast resting on your arm. (Artemis) (He looked at her over his shoulder.) And one day I'm going to find a way to rid myself of the beast resting on my back. (Acheron) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

After all we've shared, I just want to hold you and be close. Rest in my arms and know that I love you. ~ Sylvain Reynard

Logan reached out and caught my shoulders when I started to leave. He pulled me back against his chest and enfolded his arms over my chest. "Ah, our little sister, trying to be all nice and saintly."
Mason snorted and opened the door. "Saints don't set cars on fire."
We all piled out behind him and Logan chuckled. "There's that, yeah. ~ Tijan

If there's any chance of salvaging things between us - and I must be crazy to even consider that - you need to start off with a huge apology," I stated without preamble.
His arms folded across his chest. With that stunning jewel-encrusted coat adding to his already commanding presence, I felt like I'd somehow shrunk several feet, but I refused to be cowed. I stood straighter and began to tap my foot.
He glanced down. "Is that supposed to intimidate me?" he asked, his voice edged with satin-covered steel. ~ Jeaniene Frost

Our current criminal justice system has no provision for restorative justice, in which an offender confronts the damage they have done and tries to make it right for the people they have harmed. Instead, our system of "corrections" is about arm's-length revenge and retribution, all day and all night. ~ Piper Kerman

Heaven is laying in my sweet baby's arms, hell is when my baby's not here. ~ Waylon Jennings

I support a very active programme on disarmament and arms control for Iraq, and of course every other country in the world ... That does not require economic sanctions ... I think we've got to take the risk and give up economic sanctions while hanging on to the disarmament programme and allow the Iraqis to get on with rebuilding their country. ~ Denis Halliday

We have an arsenal of ideas about land use possibly as dangerous to human life on the planet as the use of nuclear arms. ~ Janet Kauffman

The train bore me away, through the monstrous scenery of slag-heaps, chimneys, piled scrap-iron, foul canals, paths of cindery mud criss-crossed by the prints of clogs. This was March, but the weather had been horribly cold and everywhere there were mounds of blackened snow. As we moved slowly through the outskirts of the town we passed row after row of little grey slum houses running at right angles to the embankment. At the back of one of the houses a young woman was kneeling on the stones, poking a stick up the leaden waste-pipe which ran from the sink inside and which I suppose was blocked. I had time to see everything about her - her sacking apron, her clumsy clogs, her arms reddened by the cold. She looked up as the train passed, and I was almost near enough to catch her eye. She had a round pale face, the usual exhausted face of the slum girl who is twenty-five and looks forty, thanks to miscarriages and drudgery; and it wore, for the second in which I saw it, the most desolate, hopeless expression I have ever-seen. It struck me then that we are mistaken when we say that 'It isn't the same for them as it would be for us,' and that people bred in the slums can imagine nothing but the slums. For what I saw in her face was not the ignorant suffering of an animal. She knew well enough what was happening to her - understood as well as I did how dreadful a destiny it was to be kneeling there in the bitter cold, on the slimy stones of a slum backyard, poking a stick up a foul ~ George Orwell

Arms wrapped around me, I looked over the past boxed up and piled haphazardly about, like memories in a person's brain. It was only a matter of knowing where a thought was and dusting it off. ~ Kim Harrison

She tied him a fly, using a pattern she'd designed, one that had given her untold luck with those silvery fish, those fighting steelhead. She was anxious for his return.
"Does it have a name?" he said, when she gave it to him.
"The Predator." She smiled. A little embarrassed.
His eyes turned dark, and her heart beat faster. His voice dipped low. "It's a fine name."
He regarded her for several heavy, silent beats. She felt an atavistic pull, the hairs on her arms rising toward him, as if in electrical attraction. He leaned closer and her mouth turned dry. And he told her about the wild blueberries. Down by the bend in the river.
She took the lure.
She went in search of the berries.
She never came home. ~ Loreth Anne White

She took his mouth, gave it a nice little bite as she ground against him. "There you are," she murmured.
"Well, you've left me no choice."
"A cock's always ready to crow."
He laughed, wrapped his arms around her. "Crowing's not what mine's ready for."
"Show me." She went to work on his trousers.
Amused, aroused, he watched her. "In a bit of a hurry, are we?"
"I've got to use you and get back to work, so no dawdling. ~ J.D. Robb

I'm of a fearsome mind to throw my arms around every living librarian who crosses my path, on behalf of the souls they never knew they saved. ~ Barbara Kingsolver

You could let me go, Joshua," I plead for the millionth time.
"If you truly knew me, Toy, you would understand that I can't." I think his smile is tinged with sadness. At least, if it were anyone else, that would be a sad smile. "I simply can't."
How can anyone truly know someone as fucked up as you, Joshua?
I step back out of his arms, as far as I can go with my ankle still chained to the chair, and my body cries out at the loss of his warmth.
He bends down and uncuffs my ankle.
But he doesn't set me free ~ Ginger Talbot

TINA: Oh, Rick, Rick, I'm scared. What's happened to us? I can't seem to find us any more. I reach out and reach out and we're just not there. I'm frightened. I'm a frightened child (Looks out the window) I hate this rain. Sometimes I see me dead in it.
RICK (quietly): My darling, isn't that a line from 'A Farewell To Arms'?
TINA (turns, furious): Get out of here. Get out! Get out of here before I jump out of this window.

Zooey took a parting look at the page he had been reading, then closed the manuscript and dropped it over the side of the tub. 'Jesus Christ almighty,' he said. 'Sometimes I see me dead in the rain. ~ J.D. Salinger

My arms quickly grew too tired, and all the heat I'd gained from the shower left me. Giving up, I tossed the towel to the floor, crawled between the covers, and curled into a ball. I couldn't even rub my feet together to try to generate more heat. Clay walked in and turned off the lights. I listened to the familiar rustle of clothes. Instead of the usual bounce of him jumping up on the end of the bed, he peeled back the covers, and the bed dipped as he slid in next to me. I didn't bother to pretend I wasn't interested in what he offered. Heat radiated from him, chasing the chill from the sheets. "I really hope you're wearing shorts or something," I said with a slight slur. I stuck my cold feet right on his legs and shimmied over to his side to huddle against his warmth. Boy, was he warm. It didn't matter, though. The shaking didn't stop, but I was too exhausted to worry about it. Sighing, ~ Melissa Haag

Ruby put her arms around her, but because she could not hold air, the child walked inside of her body, curled there and settled into her womb. ~ Cynthia Bond

When the Earth basks in the Sun's brilliance, you'll find me there with my arms spread wide and my face with a smile. ~ Saim .A. Cheeda

I can recall photographs of Comrade Ulbricht being embraced by Comrade Brezhnev, which must have been like putting your arms around Grant's Tomb. ~ Richard Elman

If only we know, boss, what the stones and rain and flowers say. Maybe they call-call us-and we don't hear them. When will people's ears open, boss? When shall we have our eyes open to see? When shall we open our arms to embrace everything-stones, rain, flowers, and people? What do you think about that, boss? And what do your books have to say about that? ~ Nikos Kazantzakis

Why do we need to be pardoned? What are we to be pardoned for? For not dying of hunger? For not accepting humbly the historic burden of disdain and abandonment? For having risen up in arms after we found all other paths closed? For not heeding the Chiapas penal code, one of the most absurd and repressive in history? For showing the rest of the country and the whole world that human dignity still exists even among the world's poorest peoples? For having made careful preparations before we began our uprising? For bringing guns to battle instead of bows and arrows? For being Mexicans? For being mainly indigenous? For calling on the Mexican people to fight by whatever means possible for what belongs to them? For fighting for liberty, democracy and justice? For not following the example of previous guerrilla armies? For refusing to surrender? For refusing to sell ourselves out? Who should we ask for pardon, and who can grant it? Those who for many years glutted themselves at a table of plenty while we sat with death so often, we finally stopped fearing it? Those who filled our pockets and our souls with empty promises and words? Or should we ask pardon from the dead, our dead, who died "natural" deaths of "natural causes" like measles, whooping cough, break-bone fever, cholera, typhus, mononucleosis, tetanus, pneumonia, malaria and other lovely gastrointestinal and pulmonary diseases? Our dead, so very dead, so democratically dead from sorrow because no one did anything, because t ~ Subcomandante Marcos

I went boneless and pliant in his arms, letting him control the kiss, suck on my lips, tangle his tongue with mine, and hold me in his arms. "You are so beautiful." He spoke the words against my mouth. "Please don't change your mind; please don't say no to me when we get home." The word no never entered my mind. ~ Mary Calmes

I liked her ... I really liked her. I wanted to protect her. I approached her in a gentle, playful manner, because she's so precious and I wanted to hold her in my arms because she's so carefree. She was my treasure. ~ Arina Tanemura

You won't have to do all the work
alone this time, Hermione. I'll help."
"Oh, Ron!"
Hermione flung her arms around Ron's neck and broke down completely. ~ J.K. Rowling

I wonder if he still hates me," Silas says as the cat edges out from the couch, pale green eyes like little limes in the dark. As if to answer Silas's question, Screwtape takes a flying leap onto his lap and begins to purr wildly.
"I'm not falling for this anymore," Silas says firmly. He moves to push Screwtape away, but as soon as his palms are within a few inches of Screwtape's wild fur, the cat extends his claws into Silas's thighs. Silas winces and muffles a yelp.
"Need some help?" I say, trying to hide my laughter.
"That'd be great," he answered tensely. I hurry over and scoop Screwtape into my arms. The cat instantly melts against me and rubs his face against mine, the scent of catnip on his breath. I crinkle my nose.
"Thanks." Silas sighs in relief. "I can hunt wolves, but it's a cat I can't handle. Not terrible manly of me, is it?"
"I won't tell anyone," I answer with a soft smile that he returns. ~ Jackson Pearce

Hitch your unconscious mind to your writing arm. ~ Dorothea Brande

He comes into my city, he throws away my people, he orders me around like I'm his servant and now this? How dare he!"
I sighed. "How dare he!" came out. Could "Does he know who I am?" be far behind?
"I'm not some illiterate he can push around. I won't be treated this way. I worked too damn hard, for years. Years! Years of study and that fucking Neanderthal comes in and waves his arms." Ghastek skewed his face into a grimace. He was probably aiming to impersonate Hugh, but he mostly succeeded in looking extremely constipated. "Ooo, I'm Hugh d'Ambray, I'm starting a war!"
Laughing right now was a really bad idea. I had to conserve the energy.
"A war I've been trying years to avoid. Years!"
He kept saying that.
"Does he think it's easy to negotiate with violent lunatics, who can't understand elementary concepts?"
Good to know where we stood with him. ~ Ilona Andrews

And ever since then, even though I was growing up in a land that had been tormented since the dawn of time, I refused to consider the world as a battlefield. I could see that wars beget wars, that reprisals follow reprisals, but I forbade myself to give them any support of any kind. I didn't believe in prophesies of discord, and I couldn't bring myself to accept the notion that God could incite his subjects to take up arms against one another and reduce the exercise of faith to an absurd and frightening question of power relationships.
And ever since then, I've trusted anyone who required a little of my blood to purify my soul about as much as I would trust a scorpion. I have no desire to believe in valves of tears or valleys of shadows- there are other more charming and less irrational features of the landscape all around me. My father said, "Anyone who tells you that a greater symphony exists than the breath in your body is lying. He wants to undermine your most beautiful possession: the chance to profit from every moment of your life. If you start from the principle that your worst enemy is the very person who tries to sow hatred in your heart, your halfway to happiness. All you have to do is reach out your hand and take the rest. And remember this: there is nothing, absolutely nothing, more important than your life. And your life isn't more important than other people's lives ~ Yasmina Khadra

She thoroughly felt the pitch and roll of the ship as it traveled southerly across the ocean. It was a pleasant feeling, an ancient one that every person who had ever loved the sea had felt and cherished
to be rocked to sleep, as if in a mother's arms or in a cradle. ~ Victoria Kahler

When Eleanor's arm touched his he felt his hands grow cold with deadly fear lest he should lose the shadow brush with which his imagination was painting wonders of her. He watched her from the corners of his eyes as ever he did when he walked with her
she was a feast and a folly and he wished it had been his destiny to sit forever on a haystack and see life through her green eyes. ~ F Scott Fitzgerald

If small business goes, big business does not have any future except to become the economic arm of a totalitarian state. ~ Philip D. Reed

Oh, a wan cloud was drawn o'er the dim weeping dawn

As to Josie's side I returned at last,

And the heart in my breast for the girl I lov'd best

Was beating, ah, beating, how loud and fast!

While the doubts and the fears of the long aching years

Seem'd mingling their voices with the moaning flood:

Till full in my path, like a wild water wraith,

My true love's shadow lamenting stood.

But the sudden sun kiss'd the cold, cruel mist

Into dancing show'rs of diamond dew,

And the dark flowing stream laugh'd back to his beam,

And the lark soared aloft in the blue:

While no phantom of night but a form of delight

Ran with arms outspread to her darling boy,

And the girl I love best on my wild throbbing breast

Hid her thousand treasures with cry of joy. ~ Amy Harmon

Grace. I held on to that name. If I kept that in my head, I would be OK.
Grace.
I was shaking, shaking; my skin peeling away.
Grace.
My bones squeezed, pinched, pressed against my muscles.
Grace.
Her eyes held me even after I stopped feeling her fingers gripping my arms.
Sam," she said. "Don't go. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

A family of ten children will be always called a fine family, where there are heads and arms and legs enough for the number. ~ Jane Austen

Let go into His arms untill you find yourself obsessed with things devine ~ John Crowder

She was everything. His air. His breath. His heart. Mikhail's mouth found hers in long, drugging kisses, moved to her throat, her breast, found his mark. One taste. Only one.
Raven moved in his arms, turned her head to give him better access, her hands entwined in his hair. "I'd better marry you, Mikhail. You need me desperately. ~ Christine Feehan

When I was little, my father used to sell guns and ammo at a sporting goods store, but I always told everyone he was an arms dealer, because it sounded more exciting. ~ Jenny Lawson

In this here place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard. Yonder they do not love your flesh. They despise it. They don't love your eyes; they'd just as soon pick em out. No more do they love the skin on your back. Yonder they flay it. And O my people they do not love your hands. Those they only use, tie, bind, chop off and leave empty. Love your hands! Love them. Raise them up and kiss them. Touch others with them, pat them together, stroke them on your face 'cause they don't love that either. You got to love it, you! And no, they ain't in love with your mouth. Yonder, out there, they will see it broken and break it again. What you say out of it they will not heed. What you scream from it they do not hear. What you put into it to nourish your body they will snatch away and give you leavins instead. No, they don't love your mouth. You got to love it. This is flesh I'm talking about here. Flesh that needs to be loved. Feet that need to rest and to dance; backs that need support; shoulders that need arms, strong arms I'm telling you. And O my people, out yonder, hear me, they do not love your neck unnoosed and straight. So love your neck; put a hand on it, grace it, stroke it and hold it up. and all your inside parts that they'd just as soon slop for hogs, you got to love them. The dark, dark liver--love it, love it and the beat and beating heart, love that too. More than eyes or feet. More than lungs that have yet t ~ Toni Morrison

If ye despise the human race, and mortal arms, yet remember that there is a God who is mindful of right and wrong. ~ Virgil

A lot of guys just punch with their arms; they don't utilize every part of their muscles they can use. I know how to use that, and that's where the power comes in. ~ Nonito Donaire