Lays Quotes - Page 19

• Mr. Bernard died on a Monday, at the age of seventy-five, his body wasted. He lay in state for two days in the lobby of the Bernard Gursky Tower and, as he failed to rise on the third, he was duly buried.

  Mordecai Richler

  Monday, Two, Age

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• There he got out the luncheon-basket and packed a simple meal, in which, remembering the stranger's origin and preferences, he took care to include a yard of long French bread, a sausage out of which the garlic sang, some cheese which lay down and cried, and a long-necked straw-covered flask wherein lay bottled sunshine shed and garnered on far Southern slopes.

  Kenneth Grahame

  Sunshine, Simple, Long

  Kenneth Grahame (1908). “The Wind in the Willows”, p.206

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• I have stood aside to see the phantoms of those days go by me. They are gone, and I resume the journey of my story.’ (David Copperfield) “But all that night he lay awake because the phantoms of those days were not gone. Like the tiny, terrible holes in the prophylactics, the phantoms of those days were not easy to detect—and their meaning was unknown—but they were there.

  John Irving

  Night, Journey, Gone

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• If there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness, did lay siege to it, Making it momentary as a sound, Swift as a shadow, short as any dream, Brief as the lightning in the collied night That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!' The jaws of darkness do devour it up; So quick bright things come to confusion.

  William Shakespeare

  Dream, War, Night

  'A Midsummer Night's Dream' (1595-6) act 1, sc. 1, l. 141

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• Deep in the meadow, hidden far away A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray Forget your woes and let your troubles lay

  Suzanne Collins

  Rays, Woe, Forget

  Suzanne Collins (2011). “The Hunger Games Trilogy”, p.312, Scholastic Inc.

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• You're from where?" "Lay'en. It's near Salt Lake City." "Spell that for me." "Um, that would be S-A-L-T-" "No, the other one. The city you're from." "Oh. L-A-Y-T-O-N." "Ah-Lay-ton." That's what I said." "No you didn't. You just said, 'Lay'en.'" "So I did. But just go ahead and pronounce 'aluminum' for me, Mr. British Man. How are you going to defend that piece of insanity? Why don't you spell it and count syllables and see if your al-um-in-ium makes sense whatsoever?" He bowed his head. "Touch...

  Shannon Hale

  Men, Lakes, Cities

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• But [Pooh] couldn't sleep. The more he tried to sleep the more he couldn't. He tried counting Sheep, which is sometimes a good way of getting to sleep, and, as that was no good, he tried counting Heffalumps. And that was worse. Because every Heffalump that he counted was making straight for a pot of Pooh's honey, and eating it all. For some minutes he lay there miserably, but when the five hundred and eighty-seventh Heffalump was licking its jaws, and saying to itself, "Very good honey this, I don't know when I've tasted better," Pooh could bear it no longer.

  A. A. Milne

  Sleep, Insomnia, Sheep

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• Someone wake me when it's over When the evening silence softens golden Just lay me on bed of dover Oh, I need help with this burden "Hush

  Gayle Forman

  Silence, Needs, Dover

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• She lay down and never stirred. To move hand or foot, or even so much as one finger, would have been an exertion beyond the powers of either volition or motion. She was so tired, so stunned, that she thought she never slept at all; her feverish thoughts passed and repassed the boundary between sleeping and waking, and kept their own miserable identity.

  Elizabeth Gaskell

  Moving, Tired, Sleep

  Elizabeth Gaskell (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Elizabeth Gaskell (Illustrated)”, p.1075, Delphi Classics

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• We do not look for reason for logic in the passionate entreaties of those who are sick unto death; we are stung with the recollection of a thousand slighted opportunities of fulfilling the wishes of those who will soon pass away from among us: and do they ask us for the future happiness of our lives, we lay it at their feet, and will it away from us.

  Elizabeth Gaskell

  Opportunity, Feet, Sick

  Elizabeth Gaskell (2012). “Norte e Sul: North and South: Edição bilíngue português - inglês”, p.698, Editora Landmark LTDA

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• The appeal of reading, she thought, lay in its indifference: there was something undeferring about literature. Books did not care who was reading them or whether one read them or not. All readers were equal, herself included. Literature, she thought, is a commonwealth; letters a republic.

  Alan Bennett

  Reading, Book, Literature

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• The only value of this world lay in its power - at certain times - to suggest another world.

  Thomas Ligotti

  World, Certain, Values

  "Songs of a Dead Dreamer". Book by Thomas Ligotti, 1986.

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• His old right hand lay nerveless, listless, dead, Unsceptred; and his realmless eyes were closed.

  John Keats

  Eye, Hands

  John Keats, Jack Stillinger (1982). “Complete Poems”, p.24, Harvard University Press

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• There is something beautiful about a billion stars held steady by a God who knows what He is doing. (They hang there, the stars, like notes on a page of music, free-form verse, silent mysteries swirling in the blue like jazz.) And as I lay there, it occurred to me that God is up there somewhere.

  Donald Miller

  Beautiful, Stars, Blue

  Donald Miller (2012). “Blue Like Jazz: Nonreligious Thoughts on Christian Spirituality”, p.100, Thomas Nelson Inc

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• I lay in the dark thinking about the difficulties of family, how crazy and crooked the stories of a bloodline can be.

  Patrick deWitt

  Crazy, Dark, Thinking

  Patrick deWitt (2011). “The Sisters Brothers”, p.9, Granta Books

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• And in this passion for understanding her soul lay close to his; she had him all to herself. But he must be made abstract first.

  D. H. Lawrence

  Passion, Soul, Understanding

  D.H. Lawrence (2015). “D. H. Lawrence The Dover Reader”, p.165, Courier Dover Publications

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• Strip back the beliefs pasted on by governesses, schools, and states, you find indelible truths at one's core. Rome'll decline and fall again, Cortés'll lay Tenochtitlán to waste again, and later, Ewing will sail again, Adrian'll be blown to pieces again, you and I'll sleep under the Corsican stars again, I'll come to Bruges again, fall in and out of love with Eva again, you'll read this letter again, the sun'll grow cold again. Nietzsche's gramophone record. When it ends, the Old One plays it again, for an eternity of eternities.

  David Mitchell

  Stars, Fall, School

  David Mitchell (2008). “Cloud Atlas: A Novel”, p.471, Random House

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• Dawn was coming. The Waystone Inn lay in silence, and it was a silence of three parts.

  Patrick Rothfuss

  Silence, Three, Dawn

  Patrick Rothfuss (2011). “The Wise Man's Fear: The Kingkiller Chronicle: Day Two”, p.12, Penguin

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• Adam lay perfectly still, little groans escaping from his lips. I looked at the bow, looked at my hands, looked at Adam's face and felt this surge of love, lust, and an unfamiliar feeling of power.

  Gayle Forman

  Escaping, Hands, Feelings

  Gayle Forman (2009). “If I Stay”, p.33, Penguin

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• The bottom had arrived. She crashed against it, but it brought no sense of closure or understanding. She just lay there at the bottom looking up. She knew there must be a very tiny circle of light up there somewhere, but just now she couldn’t see it.

  Ann Brashares

  Light, Circles, Understanding

  Ann Brashares (2012). “The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants Complete Collection”, p.429, Delacorte Press

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• Love is tricky. It is never mundane or daily. You can never get used to it. You have to walk with it, then let it walk with you. You can never balk. It moves you like the tide. It takes you out to sea, then lays you on the beach again. Today's struggling pain is the foundation for a certain stride through the heavens. You can run from it but you can never say no. It includes everyone.

  Amy Tan

  Running, Beach, Pain

  "The Hundred Secret Senses". Book by Amy Tan, 2010.

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• I enjoy almost everything. Yet I have some restless searcher in me. Why is there not a discovery in life? Something one can lay hands on and say “This is it”? My depression is a harassed feeling. I’m looking: but that’s not it — that’s not it. What is it? And shall I die before I find it?

  Virginia Woolf

  Discovery, Hands, Feelings

  Virginia Woolf (2003). “A Writer's Diary”, p.97, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• I want to lay my kill at your feet.

  Annette Curtis Klause

  Feet, Want

  Annette Curtis Klause (2007). “Blood and Chocolate”, p.263, Delacorte Books for Young Readers

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• Nothing but you can lay hold of my mind, and that can lay hold of nothing but you.

  William Congreve

  Mind, Of My Mind

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• Ask me to cut off my right arm for you, and I'll do it. Ask me to lay down my life for you, and I'll do it. But Please don't ask me to give you up now that I've found you again. Don't ask that, Amy

  Catherine Anderson

  Cutting, Found You, Giving

  Catherine Anderson (2009). “Comanche Heart”, p.46, Penguin

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