Cups Quotes - Page 11

• So he decided to stay out of it and instead turned back to Lady Bridgerton, who was, as it happened, the closest person to him, anyway. “And how are you this afternoon?” he asked. Lady Bridgerton gave him a very small smile as she handed him his cup of tea. “Smart man,” she murmured. “It’s self-preservation, really,” he said noncommittally. “Don’t say that. They wouldn’t hurt you.” “No, but I’m sure to be injured in the cross fire.

  Julia Quinn

  Hurt, Smart, Men

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• As one, the shapechangers turned and looked at me. I wondered what they'd do if I asked to borrow a cup of sugar.

  Ilona Andrews

  Sugar, Ifs

  Ilona Andrews (2012). “Magic Bites: A Special Edition of the First Kate Daniels Novel”, p.55, Penguin

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• I don’t have the time to devote to circles or covens. I have to fit things in when and where I can, in stolen moments and cups of coffee. Stirring clockwise to conjure. Widdershins to banish. There’s never enough time, and rarely enough caffeine, but I make do with what I have. Besides, cauldrons and pointy hats are overrated. Sometimes I see other customers practicing. Pouring their cream and sugar with studied intent. Stirring with purpose. I add an extra spoonful of sugar to my own coffee for them, to make all of our enchantments sweeter.

  Erin Morgenstern

  Coffee, Circles, Enough Time

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• Sister Mary was a nurse and nurses, whatever their creed, are primarily nurses, which had a lot to do with wearing your watch upside down, keeping calm in emergencies, and dying for a cup of tea.

  Terry Pratchett

  Nurse, Tea, Dying

  Neil Gaiman, Terry Pratchett (2011). “Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch”, p.30, Harper Collins

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• Don't do it, Eleanor told the little girl; insist on your cup of stars; once they have trapped you into being like everyone else you will never see your cup of stars again; don't do it; and the little girl glanced at her, and smiled a little subtle, dimpling, wholly comprehending smile, and shook her head stubbornly at the glass. Brave girl, Eleanor thought; wise, brave girl.

  Shirley Jackson

  Girl, Wise, Stars

  Shirley Jackson (2006). “The Haunting of Hill House”, p.30, Penguin

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• Please, Lord Maccon, use one of the cups. My delicate sensibilities.” The earl actually snorted. “My dear Miss Tarabotti, if you possessed any such things, you certainly have never shown them to me.

  Gail Carriger

  Missing, Use, Lord

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• He appeared before me and departed. We were not able to speak to or touch each other. But in that short interval, he transformed many things inside me. He literally stirred my mind and body the way a spoon stirs a cup of cocoa, down to the depths of my internal organs and my womb.

  Haruki Murakami

  Departed, Mind, Depth

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• Wasn't it better if they kept this desire to see each other hidden within them, and never actually got together? That way, there would always be hope in their hearts. That hope would be a small, yet vital flame that warmed them to their core-- a tiny flame to cup one's hands around and protect from the wind, a flame that the violent winds of reality might easily extinguish.

  Haruki Murakami

  Heart, Reality, Flames

  FaceBook post by Haruki Murakami from Sep 22, 2015

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• Eve hugged her, hard. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “What happened to the old frosting?” Shane, sitting at the table, raised his hand. “Took one for the team.” “Jesus, you ate it? All of it?” “Nah.” He held up the bowl that was sitting in front of him. There was still about half a cup left. “Couldn’t finish it all.” Eve blinked and looked at Claire, who shrugged and said, “I always thought he was sweet.

  Rachel Caine

  Beautiful, Sweet, Jesus

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• Anthony raised his red plastic cup to me and shouted something, but it was too hard to hear over the music. “What?” I called back. “You look great!” A goofy smile was plastered on his face. “Oh boy,” Vee said. “Not just a pimp, but a smashed pimp.” “So maybe he’s a little drunk.” “Drunk and hoping to corner you alone in a bedroom upstairs.” Ugh.

  Becca Fitzpatrick

  Boys, Drunk, Pimp

  Becca Fitzpatrick (2013). “The Complete Hush, Hush Saga: includes Hush, Hush; Crescendo; Silence and Finale”, p.414, Simon and Schuster

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• The mountains were his masters. They rimmed in life. They were the cup of reality, beyond growth, beyond struggle and death. They were his absolute unity in the midst of eternal change.

  Thomas Wolfe

  Struggle, Reality, Unity

  Thomas Wolfe (2006). “Look Homeward, Angel”, p.156, Simon and Schuster

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• See, Quentin, that’s why you should wear a cup before trying to assassinate someone.

  Mira Grant

  Trying, Should, Quentin

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• I'm unaware that my feet are moving to the table until I'm inches from the holograph. My hand reaches in and cups a rapidly blinking green light. Someone joins me, his body tense. Finnick, of course. Because only a victor would see what I see so immediately. The arena. Laced with pods controlled by Gamemakers. Finnick's fingers caress a steady red glow over a doorway. "Ladies and gentlemen..." His voice is quiet, but mine rings through the room. "Let the Seventy-sixth Hunger Games begin!

  Suzanne Collins

  Moving, Voice, Feet

  Suzanne Collins (2010). “Mockingjay (The Hunger Games, Book 3)”, p.251, Scholastic Inc.

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• I picked up my mocha and stood. The cup was still almost half-full, but I didn't want it anymore. Besides, it was now luke-warm. Which meant I didn't have to worry if it was scalding him when I tossed the remains in Ethan's face.I think Finn might have craked a smileas he held the door open for me, but I wasn't sure.

  Jenna Black

  Thinking, Doors, Worry

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• The cup of tea on arrival at a country house is a thing which, as a rule, I particularly enjoy. I like the crackling logs, the shaded lights, the scent of buttered toast, the general atmosphere of leisured cosiness.

  P. G. Wodehouse

  Country, Light, House

  P.G. Wodehouse (2009). “The Code of the Woosters: (Jeeves & Wooster)”, p.56, Random House

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• Sometimes I feel that I am destined always to be offstage whenever the main action occurs. That God has made me the victim of some cosmic practical joke, by assigning me little more than a walk-on part in my own life. Or sometimes I feel that my role is simply to be a spectator to other people's stories, and always to wander away at the most important moment, drifiting into the kitchen to make a cup of tea just as the denouement unfolds.

  Jonathan Coe

  People, Kitchen, Tea

  Jonathan Coe (2001). “The rotters' club”

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• She hug me around my neck, say, "You're righter than Miss Taylor." I tear up then. My cup is spilling over. Those is new words to me.

  Kathryn Stockett

  Missing, Hug, Tears

  Kathryn Stockett (2011). “The Help”, p.604, Penguin UK

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• I began to cry. Barrons looked horrified. "Stop that immediately, Ms. Lane." "I can't." I sniffeled into my cup pf cocoa so he couldn't see my face. "Try harder!" I gave a great sniff and shudder, and turned it off. "I have not been her lover for...some time," he offered, watching me carefully. "Oh, get over yourself!

  Karen Marie Moning

  Trying, Faces, Lovers

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• A sandwich and a cup of coffee, and then off to violin-land, where all is sweetness and delicacy and harmony.

  Arthur Conan Doyle

  Coffee, Land, Sandwiches

  Arthur Conan Doyle (2015). “The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes”, p.34, Zillmann Publishing

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• My dear if you could give me a cup of tea to clear my muddle of a head I should better understand your affairs.

  Charles Dickens

  Giving, Tea, Affair

  Charles Dickens (2015). “Mrs. Lirriper's Legacy”, p.14, Booklassic

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• Find yourself a cup; the teapot is behind you. Now tell me about hundreds of things.

  Hector Hugh Munro

  Healing, Tea, Finding Yourself

  "The Toys of Peace and Other Papers".

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• Except...I do. Of course I do. Because as his hands gently cup my waist, I don't make a sound. As he swivels me around to face him, I don't make a sound. I don't need to. We're still talking. Every touch he makes, every imprint of his skin is like another word, another thought, a continuation of our conversation. And we're not done yet. Not yet.

  Sophie Kinsella

  Hands, Talking, Skins

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• He moves smoothly and slowly, carrying his concentration like a brimming cup.

  Thomas Harris

  Moving, Concentration

  Thomas Harris (2009). “Red Dragon”, p.273, Penguin

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• Want a sugar cube?" he asks in his old seductive voice. That's how we met, with Finnick offering me sugar. Surrounded by horses and chariots, costumed and painted for the crowds, before we were allies. Before I had any idea what made him tick. The memory actually coaxes a smile out of me. "Here, it improves the taste," he says in his real voice, plunking three cubes into my cup.

  Suzanne Collins

  Horse, Memories, Real

  Suzanne Collins (2010). “Mockingjay (The Hunger Games, Book 3)”, p.158, Scholastic Inc.

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• I suppose that saves us from having to determine what to do with a butler who goes around killing people. It certainly reflects badly upon our domestic staff. Still, I shall miss him. There was a man who knew how to brew a good cup of tea.

  Gail Carriger

  Men, People, Missing

  Gail Carriger (2012). “Timeless: Book 5 of The Parasol Protectorate”, p.233, Hachette UK

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