Ran Quotes - Page 18

• You need as much ballast as possible to stop you from floating away; you need people around you, things going on, otherwise life is like some film where the money ran out, and there are no sets, or locations, or supporting actors, and it's just one bloke on his own staring into the camera with nothing to do and nobody to speak to, and who'd believe in this character then?

  Nick Hornby

  Believe, Character, People

  Nick Hornby (1996). “High Fidelity”, p.85, Penguin

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• For John was running, and this was terrible. Because if you ran, time ran. You yelled and screamed and raced and rolled and tumbled and all of a sudden the sun was gone and the whistle was blowing and you were on your long way home to supper. When you weren't looking, the sun got around behind you! The only way to keep things slow was to watch everything and do nothing! You could stretch a day to three days, sure, just by watching!

  Ray Bradbury

  Running, Home, Long

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• Oh, God, help me! And I walked faster, my thoughts pursuing me, and I began to run, my frozen shoes squealing like mice, but running didn't help, the thoughts to the left and right and behind me. But as I ran, The Arm, that good left arm, took hold of the situation and spoke soothingly: ease up, Kid, it's loneliness, you're all alone in the world; your father, your mother, your faith, they can't help you, nobody helps anybody, you only help yourself, and that's why I'm here, because we are inseperable, and we'll take care of everything.

  John Fante

  Mother, Running, Loneliness

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• I saw a huge steam roller, It blotted out the sun. The people all lay down, lay down; They did not try to run. My love and I, we looked amazed Upon the gory mystery. "Lie down, lie down!" the people cried. "The great machine is history!" My love and I, we ran away, The engine did not find us. We ran up to a mountain top, Left history far behind us. Perhaps we should have stayed and died, But somehow we don't think so. We went to see where history'd been, And my, the dead did stink so.

  Kurt Vonnegut

  Running, Lying, Thinking

  Kurt Vonnegut (2009). “Mother Night: A Novel”, p.122, Dial Press

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• The dog ran into the kitchen, stuck his nose in Grandma's crotch, and snuffled. Dang," Grandma said. "Guess my new perfume really works. I'm gonna have to try it out at the seniors meeting.

  Janet Evanovich

  Senior, Dog, Grandma

  Janet Evanovich (2010). “Hot Six: A Stephanie Plum Novel”, p.93, St. Martin's Press

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• Through an arrow loop in the wall she saw a familiar horse and rider tearing across the camp toward the healing rooms. Brigan pulled up at Nash's feet and dropped from the saddle. The two brothers threw their arms around each other and embraced hard. Shortly thereafter he stepped into the healing rooms and leaned in the doorway, looking across at her quietly. Brocker's son with the gentle gray eyes. She abandoned all pretense of decorum and ran at him.

  Kristin Cashore

  Brother, Horse, Wall

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• Percy!” he bellowed. He dropped his broom and ran at me. If you’ve never been charged by an enthusiastic Cyclops wearing a flowered apron and rubber cleaning gloves, I’m telling you, it’ll wake you up quick.

  Rick Riordan

  Wakes You, Gloves, Rubber

  "Percy Jackson and the Battle of the Labyrinth". Book by Rick Riordan, books.google.ru. March 5, 2009.

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• Big tears of frustration and exhaustion were streaming down his cheeks. But because of all the wrinkles, they weren't dripping off. They spread out and ran together again, leaving a watery film over his ruined face.

  Albert Camus

  Frustration, Wrinkles, Together Again

  Albert Camus (2012). “The Stranger”, p.18, Vintage

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• As I walked, I ran my fingers along the spines of hundreds of books. I let myself be imbued with the smell, with the light that filtered through the cracks or from the glass lanterns embedded in the wooden structure, floating among mirrors and shadows.

  Carlos Ruiz Zafon

  Book, Glasses, Mirrors

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• I recall an August afternoon in Chicago in 1973 when I took my daughter, then seven, to see what Georgia O’Keeffe had done with where she had been. One of the vast O’Keeffe ‘Sky Above Clouds’ canvases floated over the back stairs in the Chicago Art Institute that day, dominating what seemed to be several stories of empty light, and my daughter looked at it once, ran to the landing, and kept on looking. "Who drew it," she whispered after a while. I told her. "I need to talk to her," she said finally.

  Joan Didion

  Daughter, Art, Light

  Joan Didion (2013). “The White Album”, p.84, Zola Books

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• Honey, I liked the Harry Potter movies, too, but that doesn’t mean I ran out and got a Dark Mark tattooed onto my left forearm like you did.

  Jim Butcher

  Mean, Dark, Potters

  Jim Butcher, Charlaine Harris, Sherrilyn Kenyon (2009). “Blood Lite: An Anthology of Humorous Horror Stories Presented by the Horror Writers Association”, p.362, Simon and Schuster

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• You have something on your neck. What Looks like a bite mark, what were you doing out all night, anyway? Nothing. I went walking in the park. Tried to clear my head. And ran into a vampire What? No! I fell. On your neck?

  Cassandra Clare

  Night, Vampire, Looks

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• You'd think he'd ran out off rocks," I muttered

  Rick Riordan

  Thinking, Rocks

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• You will be getting a haircut, won't you?" Halt ran his hand through his hair. It was getting a little long, he thought. I'll give it a trim," he said, his hand dropping unconciously to the hilt of his saxe knife. This time, Pauline did look up. You'll get a haircut," she said. Her gaze was steady and unwavering. I'll get a haircut," he agreed meekly.

  John Flanagan

  Hair, Hands, Knives

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• When I left Merle was wearing a bungalow apron and rolling pie crust. She came to the door wiping her hands on the apron and kissed me on the mouth and began to cry and ran back into the house, leaving the doorway empty [...] I had a funny feeling as I saw the house disappear, as though I had written a poem and it was very good and I had lost it and would never remember it again. (p. 262)

  Raymond Chandler

  Doors, Hands, Pie

  Raymond Chandler (1995). “Stories and Early Novels”

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• Are we all ready? (Deimos) (Letting out a blood-chilling war cry, he and the rest of the Dolophoni ran through the caverns.) I hate their dramatics…and their decibel level. (M'Adoc)

  Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Hate, War, Blood

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• they ran in the sunlight, creating their own breeze which pressed their dresses into their damp skin. Reaching a kind of square of four locked trees which promised cooling; they flung themselves into the shade to taste their lip sweat and contemplate the wildness that had come upon them so suddenly

  Toni Morrison

  Squares, Sweat, Creating

  Toni Morrison (2014). “Sula”, p.57, Random House

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• We rode on the winds of the rising storm, We ran to the sounds of the thunder. We danced among the lightning bolts, and tore the world asunder.

  Robert Jordan

  Wind, Storm, Lightning

  Robert Jordan (2010). “Crossroads of Twilight: Book Ten of 'The Wheel of Time'”, p.601, Macmillan

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• The other thing that troubled me: Dad was clutching his workbag. Usually when he does that, it means we're in danger. Like the time gunmen stormed into our hotel in Cairo. I heard shots coming from the lobby and ran downstairs to check on my dad. By the time I got there, he was just calmly zipping up his workbag while three unconscious gunmen hung by their feet from the chandelier, their robes falling over their heads so you could see their boxer shorts. Dad claimed not to have witnessed anything, and in the end the police blamed a freak chandelier malfunction.

  Rick Riordan

  Dad, Fall, Mean

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• Total?" I called. He looked up alertly, then ran over to me, small pink tongue hanging out. Total?" I said when he was close. "Can you talk?" He flopped down on the grass, panting slightly. "Yeah. So?" Jeezum. I mean, mutant weirdos are nothing new to me, you know? But a talking dog?

  James Patterson

  Dog, Mean, Talking

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• As for the piano, the faster her fingers flew over it, the more he marveled. She struck the keys with aplomb and ran from one end of the keyboard to the other without a stop.

  Gustave Flaubert

  Keys, Piano, Keyboards

  Gustave Flaubert (1964). “Madame Bovary”

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• Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind. Because your lover threw wild hands toward the sky And the affrighted steed ran on alone, Do not weep. War is kind. Hoarse, booming drums of the regiment, Little souls who thirst for fight, These men were born to drill and die. The unexplained glory flies above them, Great is the battle-god, great, and his kingdom -A field where a thousand corpses lie. Do not weep, babe, for war is kind.

  Stephen Crane

  Lying, War, Fighting

  Stephen Crane (1899). “War Is Kind”, p.4, Library of Alexandria

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• You speak baby gibberish?' asked Jack. 'Fluently. The adult-education center ran a course, and I have a lot of time on my hands.' 'So what did he say?' 'I don't know.' 'I thought you said you spoke gibberish?' 'I do. But your baby doesn't. I think he's speaking either pre-toddler nonsense, a form of infact burble or an obscure dialect of gobbledygook. In any event, I can't understand a word he's saying.' 'Oh.

  Jasper Fforde

  Baby, Thinking, Hands

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• We ran, plowing through another pile of peppers. [No, I didn't pick a peck of them, Sadie - just shut up.]

  Rick Riordan

  Plowing, Peppers, Shut Up

  Rick Riordan (2010). “The Kane Chronicles, The, Book One: Red Pyramid”, Hyperion

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• Being a good mother, it seemed to me, meant you ran the risk of losing your child.

  Jodi Picoult

  Mother, Children, Risk

  Jodi Picoult (2012). “The Jodi Picoult Collection #4: Change of Heart, Handle with Care, and House Rules”, p.505, Simon and Schuster

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