Sheets Quotes - Page 4

• I put things down on sheets of paper and stuff them in my pockets. When I have enough, I have a book.

  John Lennon

  Book, Pockets, Paper

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• I like to hang out clothes on windy days. Sometimes that's all I feel like. A sheet on a line.

  Stephen King

  Clothes, Lines, Sometimes

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• normal person's weekly chore list: 1. clean kitchen. 2. clean bathroom. 3. clean entire rest of domicile. cleaning impaired person's weekly chore list: 1. don't get peanut butter on sheets.

  Dave Barry

  Kitchen, Peanut Butter, Lists

  Dave Barry (2001). “All the Dave Barry you could ever want: four classic books in one from America's foremost humorist”

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• All I have to do is keep my spirit, feelings and conscience like a sheet of blank paper, and let the Spirit and power of God write upon it what He pleases. When He writes, I will read; but if I read before He writes, I am very likely to be wrong

  Brigham Young

  Writing, Feelings, Paper

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• It was as though the darkness was a sheet of raw cookie dough and someone had just taken a cookie cutter and made a child-sized shape out of it.

  Lauren Oliver

  Children, Taken, Darkness

  Lauren Oliver (2011). “Liesl & Po”, p.8, Harper Collins

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• In moments Akiva was up in the ether, scarcely feeling the sting of ice crystals in the thin air. He let his glamour fall away, and his wings were like sheets of fire sweeping the black of the heavens. He moved at speed, onward toward another human city to find another doorway bitter with the devil's magic, and after that another, until all bore the black handprint....Once all the doors were marked, the end would begin. And it would begin with fire.

  Laini Taylor

  Fall, Cities, Wings

  Laini Taylor (2011). “Daughter of Smoke and Bone: Daughter of Smoke and Bone Trilogy”, p.43, Hachette UK

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• For a long time he had been white smoke. He did not realize that until he left the hospital, because white smoke had no consciousness of itself. It faded into the white world of their bed sheets and walls; it was sucked away by the words of doctors who tried to talk to the invisible scattered smoke... They saw his outline but they did not realize it was hollow inside.

  Leslie Marmon Silko

  Wall, Doctors, White

  Leslie Marmon Silko (1977). “Ceremony”, New York, N.Y. : Penguin Books

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• It wasn’t easy looking dignified wearing a bed sheet and a purple cape.

  Rick Riordan

  Rome, Purple, Bed

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• He isn't stupid, but his interests are so narrow I doubt I could slip a sheet of paper in between them

  Mercedes Lackey

  Stupid, Doubt, Paper

  Mercedes Lackey (2012). “Beauty and the Werewolf”, p.326, LUNA

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• As I climbed up into the high old bed, the large fly in my personal ointment did the same. Had I actually told him he could get in bed with me? Well, I decided, as I wriggled down under the soft old sheets and the blanket and the comforter, if Eric had designs on me, I was just too tired to care. "Woman?" "Hmmm?" "What's your name?" "Sookie. Sookie Stackhouse." "Thank you, Sookie." "Welcome, Eric.

  Charlaine Harris

  Tired, Names, Design

  Charlaine Harris (2009). “Sookie Stackhouse 8-copy Boxed Set”, p.789, Penguin

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• At five in the afternoon. It was exactly five in the afternoon. A boy brought the white sheet at five in the afternoon. A frail of lime ready prepared at five in the afternoon. The rest was death, and death alone

  Federico Garcia Lorca

  Boys, White, Afternoon

  Federico García Lorca, “Lament For Ignacio Sánchez Mejías”

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• Would you like to watch TV or get between the sheets and contemplate this violent freeway, would you like something to eat would you like to learn to fly would ya, would you like to see me try

  Roger Waters

  Trying, Watches, Tvs

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• I am opposed to writing about the private lives of living authors and psychoanalyzing them while they are alive. Criticism is getting all mixed up with a combination of the Junior FBI-men, discards from Freud and Jung and a sort of Columnist peep-hole and missing laundry list school. ... Every young English professor sees gold in them dirty sheets now. Imagine what they can do with the soiled sheets of four legal beds by the same writer and you can see why their tongues are slavering.

  Ernest Hemingway

  Dirty, School, Writing

  Ernest Hemingway (2008). “The Good Life According to Hemingway”, Ecco

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• I stood there watching Phoebe arrange the pillows and the sheets. She isn't thinking that I... I mean, she doesn't think that she and I would... WHAT?

  James Patterson

  Mean, Thinking, Pillow

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• To read as if your life depended on it would mean to let into your reading your beliefs, the swirl of your dreamlife, the physical sensations of your ordinary carnal life; and simultaneously, to allow what you're reading to pierce routines, safe and impermeable, in which ordinary carnal life is tracked, charted, channeled. Then, what of the right answers, the so-called multiple-choice examination sheet with the number 2 pencil to mark one choice and one choice only?

  Adrienne Rich

  Reading, Mean, Multiple Choice

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• Moon In the Window I wish I could say I was the kind of child who watched the moon from her window, would turn toward it and wonder. I never wondered. I read. Dark signs that crawled toward the edge of the page. It took me years to grow a heart from paper and glue. All I had was a flashlight, bright as the moon, a white hole blazing beneath the sheets.

  Dorianne Laux

  Children, Heart, Dark

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• What is the past, after all, but a vast sheet of darkness in which a few moments, pricked apparently at random, shine?

  John Updike

  Past, Shining, Darkness

  John Updike (1996). “Pigeon Feathers, and Other Stories”, Ballantine Books

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• Here are some passing thoughts. Imagine looking up at the moon and seeing it burning. Imagine seeing the grocery store’s checkout girl grow horns. Imagine growing younger instead of older. Imagine feeling more powerful and more capable of falling in love with life every new day instead of being scared and sick and not knowing whether to stay under a sheet or venture forth into the cold.

  Douglas Coupland

  Girl, Falling In Love, Powerful

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• Without a human voice to read them aloud, or a pair of wide eyes following them by flashlight beneath a blanket, they had no real existence in our world. They were like seeds in the beak of a bird, waiting to fall to earth, or the notes of a song laid out on a sheet, yearning for an instrument to bring their music into being.

  John Connolly

  Song, Real, Lying

  "The John Connolly Reader's Companion: A Collection of Excerpts".

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• Heart lesson #3: post-heartbreak survival. The heart is resilient, I mean literally. When a body is burned, the heart is the last organ to oxidize. While the rest of the body can catch flame like a polyester sheet on campfire, it takes hours to burn the heart to ash. My dear sister, a near-perfect organ! Solid, inflammable.

  Ibi Kaslik

  Heart, Mean, Flames

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• Except a living man there is nothing more wonderful than a book! A message from the dead - from human souls we never saw, who lived, perhaps, thousands of miles away. And yet these, in those little sheets of paper, speak to us, arouse us, terrify us, comfort us, open their hearts to us as brothers.

  Charles Kingsley

  Motivational, Brother, Book

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• I watched the sheets breathe when she breathed, like how Dad used to say that trees inhale when people exhale, because I was too young to understand the truth about biological processes.

  Jonathan Safran Foer

  Dad, People, Tree

  Jonathan Safran Foer (2013). “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close: A Novel”, p.107, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• It's like picking up an unfamiliar piece of sheet music & starting to stumble through it, only to realize it is a melody you'd once learned by heart, one you can play without even trying.

  Jodi Picoult

  Heart, Play, Trying

  Jodi Picoult (2009). “My Sister's Keeper - Movie Tie-In: A Novel”, p.128, Simon and Schuster

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• Finnick!" Something between a shriek and a cry of joy. A lovely if somewhat bedraggled young woman--dark tangled hair, sea green eyes--runs toward us in nothing but a sheet. "Finnick!" And suddenly, it's as if there's no one in the world but these two, crashing through space to reach each other. They collide, enfold, lose their balance, and slam against a wall, where they stay. Clinging into one being. Indivisible. A pang of jealousy hits me. Not for either Finnick or Annie but for their certainty. No one seeing them could doubt their love.

  Suzanne Collins

  Running, Wall, Eye

  Suzanne Collins (2010). “Mockingjay (The Hunger Games, Book 3)”, p.175, Scholastic Inc.

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• I-" said Nick, his voice halting. "I don't mind it as much when - when people touch me. Some people." Mae looked down, and Nick, who looked more relaxed when he'd been stabbed, slowly lifted his hand from his chest and laid it on the tumbled sheets between them, fingers half-curled into his palm. He was still regarding the ceiling with a fixed glare. "Because you trust them not to hurt you?" Mae asked tentatively. "No," Nick said, his voice harsh. "Because I'd let them hurt me.

  Sarah Rees Brennan

  Hurt, Hands, Voice

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