Dear Quotes - Page 13

• I thought I'd pay you a visit, my dear. Since you're so interesting." My mouth shifted into high gear, leaving my brain behind. "You know, you're the second guy in a few days to call me that. You should be more creative.

  Lilith Saintcrow

  Interesting, Creative, Guy

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• There was a tale he had read once, long ago, as a small boy: the story of a traveler who had slipped down a cliff, with man-eating tigers above him and a lethal fall below him, who managed to stop his fall halfway down the side of the cliff, holding on for dear life. There was a clump of strawberries beside him, and certain death above him and below. What should he do? went the question. And the reply was, Eat the strawberries. The story had never made sense to him as a boy. It did now.

  Neil Gaiman

  Fall, Boys, Men

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• I like to see flowers growing, but when they are gathered, they cease to please. I look on them as things rootless and perishable; their likeness to life makes me sad. I never offer flowers to those I love; I never wish to receive them from hands dear to me.

  Charlotte Bronte

  Flower, Hands, Wish

  Charlotte Bronte (2016). “Villette”, p.327, Xist Publishing

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• Thou art the Lord who slept upon the pillow, Thou art the Lord who soothed the furious sea, What matters beating wind and tossing billow If only we are in the boat with Thee? Hold us quiet through the age-long minute While Thou art silent and the wind is shrill : Can the boat sink while Thou, dear Lord, are in it; Can the heart faint that waiteth on Thy will?

  Amy Carmichael

  Art, What Matters, Wind

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• Dear Prince, I must leave you, but I will never forget you, and next spring I will bring you back two beautiful jewels in place of those you have given away. The ruby shall be redder than a red rose, and the sapphire shall be as blue as the great sea.

  Oscar Wilde

  Beautiful, Spring, Blue

  Oscar Wilde, General Press (2016). “The Happy Prince and Other Stories (Illustrated Edition)”, p.11, GENERAL PRESS

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• Dear God, let me be damned a little longer, a little while.

  William Faulkner

  Littles, Dear God, Let Me

  William Faulkner (2000). “My Mother is a Fish: A Commonplace Reader of William Faulkner's Fiction”

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• As I walked out one evening, Walking down Bristol Street, The crowds upon the pavement Were fields of harvest wheat. And down by the brimming river I heard a lover sing Under an arch of the railway: 'Love has no ending. 'I'll love you, dear, I'll love you Till China and Africa meet, And the river jumps over the mountain And the salmon sing in the street, 'I'll love you till the ocean Is folded and hung up to dry And the seven stars go squawking Like geese about the sky.

  W. H. Auden

  Stars, Ocean, Love You

  Another Time (1940) "As I Walked Out One Evening"

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• Calonice: My dear Lysistrata, just what is this matter you've summoned us women to consider.What's up? Something big? Lysistrata: Very big. Calonice: (interested) Is it stout too? Lysistrata: (smiling) Yes, indeed -- both big and stout. Calonice: What? And the women still haven't come? Lysistrata: It's not what you suppose; they'd come soon enough for that.

  Aristophanes

  Soon Enough, Matter, Stout

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• Redd's face contorted with a sudden realization. "How could I have been so stupid?" The Cat was trying to decide if this was a rhetorical question when she roared, "It's a construct!" With a dismiissive swing of Redd's arm, Alyss and her army began to shimmer, the billon points of engery that formed them monentarily visible before exploding apart into nothing. Redd scoped the queendom with her imagination's eye. "Where are you, Alyss? Where is my dear little niece?

  Frank Beddor

  Niece, Stupid, Cat

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• Terror is the instinct that tells you to run, dear God, run, she murmured. Run for your life. But it just makes you into meat. Predators take the ones who run. Horror is the mind-thing, the worm of knowledge you can't stop turning over no matter how awful it is. It grows in your mind and destroys you by your own intelligence.

  Kat Richardson

  Running, Mind, Meat

  Kat Richardson (2009). “Vanished: A Greywalker Novel”, p.136, Penguin

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• It'll be no use their putting their heads down and saying "Come up again, dear!" I shall only look up and say "Who am I then? Tell me that first, and then, if I like being that person, I'll come up: if not, I'll stay down here till I'm somebody else"--but, oh dear!' cried Alice, with a sudden burst of tears, 'I do wish they WOULD put their heads down! I am so VERY tired of being all alone here!

  Lewis Carroll

  Tired, Wish, Tears

  Lewis Carroll (2015). “Annotated Alice in Wonderland with English Grammar Exercises: by Lewis Carroll (Author), Robert Powell (Editor)”, p.13, Powell Publications, LLC

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• Dear as remembered kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd On lips that are for others; deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret; O Death in Life, the days that are no more!

  Alfred Lord Tennyson

  Sweet, Regret, First Love

  'The Princess' (1847) pt. 4, l. 31, song (added 1850)

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• When we die, as when the scenes have been fixed on to celluloid and the scenery is pulled down and burnt — we are phantoms in the memories of our descendants. Then we are ghosts, my dear, then we are myths. But still we are together. We are the past together, we are a distant past. Beneath the dome of the mysterious stars, I still hear your voice.

  Jostein Gaarder

  Stars, Memories, Past

  Jostein Gaarder (2010). “Maya”, p.158, Hachette UK

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• And I must draft an advertisement for the Daily Prophet, too,' he added thoughtfully. 'We'll be needing a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.... Dear me, we do seem to run through them, don't we?

  J. K. Rowling

  Running, Teacher, Art

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• Dear Hitler Take away the torches I'm not guilty I had to have this

  Leonard Cohen

  Torches, Guilty, Not Guilty

  Leonard Cohen (2003). “The Favorite Game: A Novel”, Vintage Books

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• And you are? (Xypher) Pissed off. You wrecked my car, shoved me around, and are a complete and utter dickhead! (Simone) Dear God, what a mouthful – your mom must have really wanted a son. Mind if I call you ‘Pissed’ for short? The rest of that is just too much to say every time I want your attention. (Xypher)

  Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Mom, Son, Car

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• I therefore invite you all," Mr Fox went on, 'to stay here with me for ever.' For ever!' they cried. 'My goodness! How marvellous!' And Rabbit said to Mrs Rabbit, 'My dear, just think! We're never going to be shot again in our lives!' We will make,' said Mr Fox, 'a little underground village, with streets and houses on each side - seperate houses for Badgers and Moles and Rabbits and Weasels and Foxes. And every day I will go shopping for you all. And every day we will eat like kings.' The cheering that followed this speech went on for many minutes.

  Roald Dahl

  Kings, Cheer, Thinking

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• You must be more gentle, dear, more sedate,' Ellen told her daughter. 'You must not interrupt gentlemen when they are speaking, even if you do think you know more about matters than they do. Gentlemen do not like forward girls.

  Margaret Mitchell

  Girl, Daughter, Thinking

  Margaret Mitchell (2016). “Gone with the Wind”, p.37, Hamilton Books

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• Well then," Roen said briskly, "are you sleeping?" "Yes." "Come now. A mother can tell when her son lies. Are you eating?" "No," Brigan said gravely. "I've not eaten in two months. It's a hunger strike to protest the spring flooding in the south." "Gracious," Roen said, reaching for the fruit bowl. "Have an apple, dear.

  Kristin Cashore

  Mother, Lying, Spring

  Kristin Cashore (2009). “Fire”, p.92, Penguin

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• Dear Sir, poor sir, brave sir." he read, "You are an experiment by the Creator of the Universe. You are the only creature in the entire Universe who has free will. You are the only one who has to figure out what to do next - and why. Everybody else is a robot, a machine. Some persons seem to like you, and others seem to hate you, and you must wonder why. They are simply liking machines and hating machines. You are pooped and demoralized, " read Dwayne. "Why wouldn't you be? Of course it is exhausting, having to reason all the time in a universe which wasn't meant to be reasonable.

  Kurt Vonnegut

  Hate, Brave, Next

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• Dear John, tell me everything. Write it all down, that way, we’ll be with each other all the time, even if we’re not with each other at all.

  Nicholas Sparks

  Writing, Way, Ifs

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• Yes, you have been away a very long time.' 'Oh, centuries and centuries; so long,' she said, 'that I'm sure I'm dead and buried and this dear old place is heaven.

  Edith Wharton

  Long, Heaven, Century

  Edith Wharton (2016). “The Age of Innocence: American Literature”, p.11, VM eBooks

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• My dear girl, don't talk nonsense to me! You're lazy, that's all that's wrong with you. Why don't you take up social work?

  Georgette Heyer

  Girl, Lazy, Social Work

  Georgette Heyer (2010). “They Found Him Dead”, p.209, Random House

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• I kiss you and kiss you, With arms around my own, Ah, how shall I miss you, When, dear, you have grown.

  William Butler Yeats

  Kissing, Missing, Arms

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• Oh dear," said Sarah anxiously, "I do wish he wouldn't do these silly things." I'm sure we all wish that, Sarah," said Marcia sternly. "But unfortunately he has progressed rather further than the silly stage. Evil-minded-scheming stage is more what I would call it.

  Angie Sage

  Silly, Evil, Wish

  Angie Sage (2012). “Flyte: Septimus Heap Book 2 (Rejacketed)”, p.347, A&C Black

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