Palms Quotes - Page 20

• Sleepy pulled the car to a stop in front of this paved entranceway, which was flanked on either side by these enormous palm trees, kind of like the Polynesian Resort at Disney World. In fact, the whole place had kind of a Disney feel to it. You know, really big, and kind of modern and fake.

  Meg Cabot

  Car, Fake, Tree

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• Evie hadn’t always felt that way. For a year after James had died, she’d cupped his half-dollar pendant between her pressed palms and prayed fervently for a miracle, for a telegram that would say GOOD NEWS! IT WAS A TERRIBLE MISTAKE, AND PRIVATE JAMES XAVIER O’NEILL HAS BEEN FOUND, SAFE, IN A FARMHOUSE IN FRANCE. But no such telegram ever arrived, and whatever possible faith might have bloomed in Evie withered and died. Now she saw it as just another advertisement for a life that belonged to a previous generation and held no meaning for hers.

  Libba Bray

  Mistake, Years, Miracle

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• Gwynn, she was always talking about wanting to be drunk and honestly I did want to encourage that, I wanted to go to a bar with her and let all the stuff sobriety pushed down be released so I could catch it in my palms and finally kiss her. She was just so sad. Melancholy was a fleshy wave permanently cresting on her face, she had to speak through it when she talked.

  Michelle Tea

  Kissing, Talking, Drunk

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• …but Sassenach—I am the true home of your heart, and I know that.” He lifted my hands to his mouth and kissed my upturned palms, one and then the other, his breath warm and his beard-stubble soft on my fingers. “I have loved others, and I do love many, Sassenach—but you alone hold all my heart, whole in your hands,” he said softly. “And you know that.

  Diana Gabaldon

  Home, Heart, Hands

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• In the oasis complex, the thirsty man images he sees water, palm trees, and shade not because he has evidence for the belief, but because he has a need for it. Desperate needs bring about a hallucination of their solution: thirst hallucinates water, the need for love hallucinates a prince or princess. The oasis complex is never a complete delusion: the man in the desert does see something on the horizon. It is just that the palms have withered, the well is dry, and the place is infected with locusts.

  Alain de Botton

  Love, Princess, Men

  Alain de Botton (2015). “On Love: A Novel”, p.52, Grove/Atlantic, Inc.

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• Then you hold life like a face between your palms, a plain face, no charming smile, no violet eyes, and you say, yes, I will take you I will love you, again.

  Ellen Bass

  Love You, Eye, Charming Smile

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• I looked around, counting the competition. Sixteen. To win, all I had to do was incapacitate each one, place my hand over their hearts and turn my palm into a flame. Easy. Yeah right.

  Gena Showalter

  Heart, Winning, Flames

  Gena Showalter (2015). “The White Rabbit Chronicles: Alice in Zombieland\Through the Zombie Glass\The Queen of Zombie Hearts”, p.212, Harlequin

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• Then I placed the blade next to the skin on my palm. A tingle arched across my scalp. The floor tipped up at me and my body spilled away. Then I was on the ceiling looking down, waiting to see what would happen next.

  Patricia McCormick

  Waiting, Skins, Ceilings

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• With the supplies gathered, he went over to the stainless-steel sink and pressed the foot pedal to get the water running. While he washed his hands, he said quietly, "If I could, I would." "Excuse me?" Qhuinn pumped some suds into his palms and scrubbed all the way up his forearms. Which was overkill, but if Blay wanted him superclean, then that was what he was going to be. "If I could love a guy like that, it would be you.

  J.R. Ward

  Running, Hands, Feet

  J.R. Ward (2011). “J.R. Ward The Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 5-8”, p.1277, Penguin

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• In my palm I can feel the echo of her pulse, standing in for the absense of mine.

  Isaac Marion

  Echoes, Pulse, Feels

  Isaac Marion (2016). “Warm Bodies and The New Hunger: A Special 5th Anniversary Edition”, p.66, Simon and Schuster

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• Every moment of life mattered. Even the perfect snowflake that alighted on his palm and melted in seconds.

  Kristen Britain

  Perfect, Snowflake, Moments

  Kristen Britain (2011). “The High King's Tomb”, p.429, Hachette UK

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• It never occurred to him that now he was looking at his master, at the one person in all the world who held his fate right between her palms - me, in patched hand-me-downs and untrimmed hair and idiot smile - and that my hatred for him is pure and black and unforgiving. And that I don't believe in God, but if I did, if I did, it would be the God of Moses, angry and demanding and OUT FOR REVENGE.

  Elizabeth Wein

  Revenge, Believe, Fate

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• When he pulled back, Blay frowned. "You're shaking." Was it possible he wasn't imagining this? "Am I?" "Yes." "I don't care. I love you. I love you so damned much, and I"m sorry that I wasn't male enough to admit—" Blay stopped him with a kiss. "You're plenty male enough now--the rest of it's in the past." "I just...God, I really am shaking, aren't I? Yeah. But it's okay — I've got you." Qhuinn turned his face into one of the male's palms. "You always have. You've always had me...and my heart. My soul. Everything.

  J.R. Ward

  Sorry, Love You, Heart

  "Lover at Last: Number 11 in series".

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• There were only two men on the planet better educated in the various martial arts than Butler, and he was related to one of them. The other lived on an island in the South China Sea, and spent his days meditating and beating up palm trees. You had to feel sorry for the B'wa Kell.

  Eoin Colfer

  Art, Sorry, Men

  Eoin Colfer (2003). “Artemis Fowl: The Arctic Incident - Book #2”, Miramax

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• I feel the urge, familiar now, to wrench myself from my body and speak directly into her mind. It is the same urge, I realize, that makes me want to kiss her every time I see her, because even a sliver of distance between us is infuriating. Our fingers, loosely woven a moment ago, now clutch together, her palm tacky with moisture, mine rough in places where I have grabbed too many handles on too many moving trains. Now she looks pale and small, but her eyes make me think of wide-open skies that I have never actually seen, only dreamed of.

  Veronica Roth

  Distance, Moving, Eye

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• Check this out,” Nine says. He holds up a small purple stone and then places it on the back of his hand. The stone slides into his hand—through it. Nine turns his hand over just as the stone pops out in his palm. “Pretty cool, right?” he asks me, waggling his eyebrows. “Uh, but what is it supposed to do?” Eight asks, looking up from his own Chest. “I dunno. Impress girls?” Nine looks over at me. “Did it work?” “Um . . .” I hesitate, trying not to roll my eyes too hard. “Not really. But, I’ve seen guys teleport so I’m kind of hard to impress.” “Tough crowd.

  Pittacus Lore

  Girl, Eye, Purple

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• Hold material goods and wealth on a flat palm and not in a clenched fist.

  Alistair Begg

  Fists, Wealth, Flats

  Alistair Begg (2005). “Made For His Pleasure: Ten Benchmarks of a Vital Faith”, p.80, Moody Publishers

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• Lovers are not at their best when it matters. Mouths dry up, palms sweat, conversation flags and all the time the heart is threatening to fly from the body once and for all. Lovers have been known to have heart attacks. Lovers drink too much from nervousness and cannot perform. They eat too little and faint during their fervently wished consummation. They do not stroke the favoured cat and their face-paint comes loose. This is not all. Whatever you have set store by, your dress, your dinner, your poetry, will go wrong.

  Jeanette Winterson

  Cat, Heart, Dry Up

  Jeanette Winterson (2007). “The Passion”, p.66, Grove/Atlantic, Inc.

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• You start in April and cross to the time of May
  One has you as it leaves, one as it comes
  Since the edges of these months are yours and defer
  To you, either of them suits your praises.
  The Circus continues and the theatre's lauded palm,
  Let this song, too, join the Circus spectacle.

  Ovid

  Song, Spring, Theatre

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• There is not any haunt of prophecy,
  Nor any old chimera of the grave,
  Neither the golden underground, nor isle
  Melodious, where spirits gat them home,
  Nor visionary south, nor cloudy palm
  Remote on heaven's hill, that has endured
  As April's green endures; or will endure
  Like her remembrance of awakened birds,
  Or her desire for June and evening, tipped
  By the consummation of the swallow's wings.

  Wallace Stevens

  Spring, Home, June

  Wallace Stevens (2011). “The Palm at the End of the Mind: Selected Poems and a Play”, p.22, Vintage

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• All our moments are last moments. We abide in the forever leaving of our own coming? We can put our hands together, palm to palm, settling here on the last leaf of our brief flight, and bow to the wonder of it.

  Jens Jensen

  Gratitude, Appreciation, Time

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• To pull the metal splinter from my palm my father recited a story in a low voice. I watched his lovely face and not the blade. Before the story ended, he'd removed the iron sliver I thought I'd die from. I can't remember the tale, but hear his voice still, a well of dark water, a prayer. And I recall his hands, two measures of tenderness he laid against my face.

  Li-Young Lee

  Fathers Day, Dad, Prayer

  Li-Young Lee (1986). “Rose: Poems”, p.15, BOA Editions, Ltd.

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• We have 51 golf courses in Palm Springs. He [President Ford] never decides which course he will play until after the first tee shot.

  Bob Hope

  Spring, Golf, Play

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• But it seems that something has happened that has never happened before; though we know not just when, or why, or how, or where. Men have left God not for gods, they say, but for no gods; and this has never happened before. That men both deny gods and worship gods, professing first Reason, and the money, and power, and what they call life, or race, or dialect.The church disowned, the tower overthrown, the bells upturned, what have we to do but stand with empty hands and palms upturned in an age which advances progressively backwards?

  T. S. Eliot

  Religious, Men, Race

  T.S. Eliot (2011). “The Complete Poems and Plays of T. S. Eliot”, p.144, Faber & Faber

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• The profoundest thoughts of the philosophers have something trickle about them. A lot disappears in order for something to suddenly appear in the palm of the hand.

  Elias Canetti

  Philosophical, Hands, Order

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