Electric Quotes - Page 7

• One more secret smile. One more shared laugh. One more electric kiss. Finding him was like finding someone I didn't know I was searching for.

  Becca Fitzpatrick

  Kissing, Laughing, Secret

  Becca Fitzpatrick (2013). “The Complete Hush, Hush Saga: includes Hush, Hush; Crescendo; Silence and Finale”, p.267, Simon and Schuster

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• Right then, I wanted to go back in time and relive every moment with him. One more secret smile, one more shared laugh. One more electric kiss. Finding him was like finding someone I didn't know I was searching for. He’d come into my life too late, and now was leaving too soon. I remembered him telling he’d give up everything for me. He already had.

  Becca Fitzpatrick

  Giving Up, Kissing, Laughing

  Becca Fitzpatrick (2013). “The Complete Hush, Hush Saga: includes Hush, Hush; Crescendo; Silence and Finale”, p.267, Simon and Schuster

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• The switch had two settings. You could either turn it to AUTO, in which case the awning lowered itself whenever the sun came out, or you could set it to MANUEL [sic], in which case, we assumed, a small, incompetent Spanish waiter came and did it for you.

  Douglas Adams

  Sea, Two, Sun

  "The Salmon of Doubt: Hitchhiking the Galaxy One Last Time".

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• days like this. i look at you and feel electric. tell me you don't feel it too."_Eric Packer

  Don DeLillo

  Days Like This, Looks, Packers

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• Unfortunately this Electric Monk had developed a fault, and had started to believe all kinds of things, more or less at random. It was even beginning to believe things they'd have difficulty believing in Salt Lake City.

  Douglas Adams

  Believe, Lakes, Cities

  Douglas Adams (2016). “Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency Box Set: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency and The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul”, p.10, Simon and Schuster

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• For a split second longer she stood motionless. Then, somehow, she had caught at the front of his shirt and pulled him toward her. His arms went around her, lifting her almost out of her sandals, and then he was kissing her—or she was kissing him, she wasn’t sure, and it didn’t matter. The feel of his mouth on hers was electric; her hands gripped his arms, pulling him hard against her. The feel of his heart pounding through his shirt made her dizzy with joy. No one else’s heart beat like Jace’s did, or ever could.

  Cassandra Clare

  Heart, Kissing, Hands

  Cassandra Clare (2012). “Cassandra Clare: The Mortal Instruments Series (5 books): City of Bones; City of Ashes; City of Glass; City of Fallen Angels, City of Lost Souls”, p.1371, Simon and Schuster

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• I think the most joyous thing in life is to loaf around and watch another bloke do a job of work. Look how popular are the men who dig up London with electric drills. Duke's son, cook's son, son of a hundred kings, people will stand there for hours on end, ear drums splitting. Why? Simply for the pleasure of being idle while watching other people work.

  Dorothy L. Sayers

  Kings, Jobs, Son

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• The contrast between the familiar and the exceptional was everywhere around me. A bullock cart was drawn up beside a modern sports car at a traffic signal. A man squatted to relieve himself behind the discreet shelter of a satellite dish. An electric forklift truck was being used to unload goods from an ancient wooden cart with wooden wheels. The impression was of a plodding indefatigable and distant past that had crashed intact through barriers of time into its own future. I liked it.

  Gregory David Roberts

  Sports, Past, Men

  Gregory David Roberts (2004). “Shantaram: A Novel”, p.14, Macmillan

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• After telephone, kinematograph and phonograph had replaced newspaper, book schoolmaster and letter, to live outside the range of the electric cables was to live an isolated savage.

  H. G. Wells

  Book, Savages, Letters

  H. G. Wells (2015). “Delphi Complete Works of H. G. Wells”, p.3304, Delphi Classics

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• And our lips. There isn't enough skin, enough spit, enough time, for the lost years that our lips are trying to make up for as they find each other. We kiss. The electric current switches to high. The lights throughout all of Brooklyn must be surging.

  Gayle Forman

  Kissing, Light, Years

  Gayle Forman (2011). “Where She Went”, p.118, Penguin

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• The trick of it, she told herself, is to be courageous and bold and make a different. Not change the world exactly, just the bit around you. Go out there with your double-first, your passion and your new Smith Carona electric typewriter and work hard at ... something. Change lives through art maybe. Write beautifully. Cherish your friends, stay true to your principles, live passionately and fully and well. Experience new things. Love and be loved if at all possible. East sensibly. Stuff like that.

  David Nicholls

  Art, Life Changing, Hard Work

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• Watching them, she realized they made so much sense together. Every look, every touch, was a reassurance, almost electric, as if they were shocking each other with every contact.

  Sarah Addison Allen

  Together, Looks, Reassurance

  Sarah Addison Allen (2011). “The Peach Keeper: A Novel”, p.212, Bantam

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• As long as I stared at the clock, at least the world remained in motion. Not a very consequential world, but in motion nonetheless. And as long as I knew the world was still in motion, I knew I existed. Not a very consequential existence, but an existence nonetheless. It struck me as wanting that someone should confirm his own existence only by the hands of an electric wall clock. There had to be a more cognitive means of confirmation. But try as I might, nothing less facile came to mind.

  Haruki Murakami

  Wall, Mean, Hands

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• Why can't you like me?" he said, his voice breaking. His scent steamed then, hot and heady with a welter of contradictions: apples and fire and electric roil of those cold, black shadows. "Why can't you like me just a little?" She would never know how she might have answered, because he never gave her the chance. Instead, he kissed her.

  Ilsa J. Bick

  Fire, Voice, Apples

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• Instead of answering her as soon as he saw her hair grow electric, her face more vivid, her eyes like lightning, her body restless and jerky like a racehorse’s, he retired behind this wall of objective understanding, this gentle testing and acceptance of her, just as one watches an animal in the zoo and smiles at his antics, but is not drawn into this mood. It was this which left Lilith in a state of isolation - indeed, like a wild animal in an absolute desert.

  Anais Nin

  Zoos, Wall, Eye

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• I can't deceive myself out of the bare stark realization that no matter how enthusiastic you are, no matter how sure that character is fate, nothing is real, past or future, when you are alone in your room with the clock ticking loudly into the false cheerful brilliance of the electric light. And if you have no past or future which, after all, is all that the present is made of, why then you may as well dispose of the empty shell of present and commit suicide.

  Sylvia Plath

  Suicide, Real, Character

  "The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath".

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• Cold?" Ravus echoed. He took her arm and rubbed it between his hands, watching them as though they were betraying him. "Better?" He asked warily. His skin felt hot, even through the cloth of her shirt, his touch was both soothing and electric. She leaned into him without thinking. His thighs parted, rough black cloth scratching against her jeans as she moved between his long legs. His eyes half-lidded as he pushed himself off the desk, their bodies sliding together, his hands still holding hers. Then, suddenly, he froze.

  Holly Black

  Eye, Thinking, Hands

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• A Boat O beautiful was the werewolf in his evil forest. We took him to the carnival and he started crying when he saw the Ferris wheel. Electric green and red tears flowed down his furry cheeks. He looked like a boat out on the dark water.

  Richard Brautigan

  Beautiful, Dark, Evil

  Richard Brautigan (1989). “Richard Brautigan's Trout Fishing in America, The Pill Versus the Springhill Mine Disaster, and In Watermelon Sugar”, p.148, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• It's not Cam's fault," Bex told her. "We rigged her bed so that if she gets up, I get an electric shock." "Liz designed it," Macey said, and Bex shrugged "We told you we were taking precautions." Of course. Because at Gallagher Academy, "precautions" usually equals "voluntary shock therapy".

  Ally Carter

  Electric Shock, Faults, Bed

  Ally Carter (2012). “Gallagher Girls: Out of Sight, Out of Time”, p.103, Hachette UK

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• We talked death with burned-up intensity, both of us drawn to it like moths to an electric light bulb. Sucking on it!

  Anne Sexton

  Light, Intensity, Bulbs

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• Forget the noose. Forget the Iron Maiden. Forget the electric chair or the guillotine. The mind was mankind's most painful torture chamber, the blessed liberty to cogitate offering either doom or salvation, depending on one's disposition.

  Tiffanie DeBartolo

  Blessed, Offering, Iron

  Tiffanie DeBartolo (2005). “How to Kill a Rock Star”, p.261, Sourcebooks, Inc.

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• The collision was impending and electric, but the moment was soft and sweet: She positively glowed as she looked up at him. "What," she whispered, palming his face. Vin took a moment to memorize her features and the way she felt beneath him, seeing her not just through his eyes, but feeling her with his skin and his heart. "Hello, lovely lady...hello.

  J.R. Ward

  Sweet, Eye, Heart

  J.R. Ward (2009). “Covet: A Novel of the Fallen Angels”, p.371, Penguin

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• It is easy to be liked when the world has no jagged edges, when life is electric blankets and peach ice cream. But to be beloved, a man needs a dragon.

  Rick Bragg

  Men, Ice Cream, Dragons

  FaceBook post by Rick Bragg from Sep 20, 2016

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• It is as though some old part of yourself wakes up in you, terrified, useless in the life you have, its skills and habits destructive but intact, and what is left of the present you, the person you have become, wilts and shrivels in sadness or despair: the person you have become is only a thin shell over this other, more electric and endangered self. The strongest, the least digested parts of your experience can rise up and put you back where you were when they occurred; all the rest of you stands back and weeps.

  Peter Straub

  Sadness, Self, Skills

  FaceBook post by Peter Straub from Mar 02, 2014

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• Please, Percy...change your clothes. You smell like you've been run over by an electric horse.

  Rick Riordan

  Running, Horse, Smell

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