Tongue Quotes - Page 13

• Relief loosens tongues beyond measure.

  Stephen King

  Relief

  Stephen King (2009). “Nightmares & Dreamscapes”, p.722, Simon and Schuster

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• [Robin Stewart] was your man. True for you, you had withdrawn the crutch from his sight, but still it should have been there in your hand, ready for him. For you are a leader-don't you know it? I don't, surely, need to tell you?-And that is what leadership means. It means fortifying the fainthearted and giving them the two sides of your tongue while you are at it. It means suffering weak love and schooling it till it matures. It means giving up you privicies, your follies and your leasure. It means you can love nothing and no one too much, or you are no longer a leader, you are led.

  Dorothy Dunnett

  Giving Up, Mean, Men

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• Nature hath given men one tongue but two ears, that we may hear from others twice as much as we speak.

  Epictetus

  Inspirational, Nature, Health

  Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus, Lucius Annaeus Seneca (2015). “Stoic Six Pack: Meditations of Marcus Aurelius The Golden Sayings Fragments and Discourses of Epictetus Letters from a Stoic and The Enchiridion”, p.124, Lulu.com

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• Wild tongues can't be tamed, they can only be cut out.

  Gloria E. Anzaldúa

  Cutting, Tamed

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• Me? I'm just a literary girl gone wrong. Slow with the tongue. Quick with the pen. Undeniably cute. But, on the whole, ill-equipped for the privilege of living.

  Koren Zailckas

  Cute, Girl, Gone

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• Good fences make good neighbors, and these were apparently good enough that they had not felt the need for razor wire at the top. I crested the fence, threw myself into the yard beyond, fell, rolled to my feet, and ran with the expectation of being garroted by a taut clothesline. I heard panting, looked down, and saw a gold retriever running at my side, ears flapping. The dog glanced up at me tongue rolling, grinning, as though jazzed by the prospect of an unscheduled play session.

  Dean Koontz

  Running, Dog, Play

  Dean Koontz (2014). “The Odd Thomas Series 7-Book Bundle: Odd Thomas, Forever Odd, Brother Odd, Odd Hours, Odd Apocalypse, Odd Interlude, Deeply Odd”, p.950, Bantam

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• If Los Angeles is a woman reclining billboard model with collagen-puffed lips and silicone-inflated breasts, a woman in a magenta convertible with heart-shaped sunglasses and cotton candy hair; if Los Angeles is this woman, then the San Fernando Valley is her teenybopper sister. The teenybopper sister snaps bug stretchy pink bubbles over her tongue and checks her lipgloss in the rearview mirror, . . . Teeny plays the radio too loud and bites her nails, wondering if the glitter polish will poison her.

  Francesca Lia Block

  Heart, Mirrors, Hair

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• This summer-sweet night is only one minute upon one minute upon another Beautiful cacophony, sugar upon lips, dancing to exhaustion I thought of you, before this minute upon another minute upon another Until, numb, my lips fell onto the mouth of another, and I was undone. ~from Golden Tongue: The Poems of Steven Slaughter which is a fictional book in Ballad: A gathering of faerie

  Maggie Stiefvater

  Beautiful, Summer, Sweet

  Maggie Stiefvater (2010). “Ballad: A Gathering of Faerie”, p.131, North Star Editions, Inc.

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• Every real thing is a joy, if only you have eyes and ears to relish it, a nose and tongue to taste it.

  Robert Farrar Capon

  Real, Eye, Joy

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• The queen is head. Long live the queen...me." The platoon of renegade soldiers cheered. Redd kicked The Cat where he lay on the floor, tongue lolling in his mouth, the picture of death. "Get up! You still have seven more lives." The Cat's eyes fluttered open. Find Alyss and kill her." With a wave of her hand, the looking glass was once again whole. The Cate jumped through, in prosuit of the only living Heart besides Redd.

  Frank Beddor

  Queens, Eye, Heart

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• Far from his illness The wolves ran on through the evergreen forests, The peasant river was untempted by the fashionable quays; By mourning tongues The death of the poet was kept from his poems.

  W. H. Auden

  Rivers, Mourning, Forests

  W.H. Auden (2016). “Canción de cuna y otros poemas”, p.148, DEBOLS!LLO

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• Discipline, Norah. If you're going to taunt them, remember to stick out your tongue.

  James A. Owen

  Discipline, Sticks, Remember

  James A. Owen (2010). “Shadow Dragons”, p.132, Simon and Schuster

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• Until I am free to write bilingually and to switch codes without having always to translate, while I still have to speak English or Spanish when I would rather speak Spanglish, and as long as I have to accommodate the English speakers rather than having them accommodate me, my tongue will be illegitimate. I will no longer be made to feel ashamed of existing. I will have my voice: Indian, Spanish, white. I will have my serpent's tongue - my woman's voice, my sexual voice, my poet's voice. I will overcome the tradition of silence.

  Gloria E. Anzaldúa

  Writing, Speak English, Voice

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• Then why was his tongue in your mouth? Was he conducting a clinical test of your gag reflex?" He smiled, but not nicely. "How is your gag reflex, Ms. Lane? Are you a hair trigger?" Barrons likes to use sexual innuendo to try to shut me up. I think he expects the well-raised southern belle in me will think eew and back off. Sometimes, I do think eew, but I don't back off. "I'm a spitter, if that's what you're asking." I flashed him a too-sweet smile. "Didn't look that way to me. I think you're a swallower. His tongue was halfway to China and you were still taking it." "Jealous?

  Karen Marie Moning

  Sweet, Jealous, Thinking

  Karen Marie Moning (2011). “Faefever”, p.76, Hachette UK

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• Was love then like a bag of assorted sweets passed around from which one might choose more than once? Some might sting the tongue, some invoke night perfume. Some had centers as bitter as gall, some blended honey and poison, some were quickly swallowed. And among the common bull's-eyes and peppermints a few rare ones; one or two with deadly needles at the heart, another that brought clam and gentle pleasure. Were his fingers closing on that one?

  Annie Proulx

  Sweet, Heart, Eye

  Annie Proulx (1994). “The Shipping News”, p.315, Simon and Schuster

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• Tell me I didn't imagine it, Leo. Tell me that even though our bodies were in seperate states, our star selves shared an enchanted place. Tell me that right around noon today (eastern time) you had the strangest sensation: a tiny chill on your shoulder...a flutter in the heart...a shadow of strawberry-banana crossing your tongue...tell me you whispered my name.

  Jerry Spinelli

  Stars, Heart, Self

  Jerry Spinelli (2007). “Love, Stargirl”, p.52, Knopf Books for Young Readers

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• Words were useless. At times, they might sound wonderful, but they let you down the moment you really needed them. You could never find the right words, never, and where would you look for them? The heart is as silent as a fish, however much the tongue tries to give it a voice.

  Cornelia Funke

  Heart, Voice, Giving

  Cornelia Funke (2011). “Inkspell”, p.304, Scholastic Inc.

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• "This isn’t really death," Tyler says, "We’ll be legend. We won’t grow old." I tongue the barrel into my cheek and say, Tyler, you’re thinking of vampires.

  Chuck Palahniuk

  Thinking, Vampire, Legends

  "Fight Club". Book by Chuck Palahniuk, August 17, 1996.

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• So what rhyming poems do is they take all these nearby sound curves and remind you that they first existed that way in your brain. Before they meant something specific, they had a shape and a way of being said. And now, yes, gloom and broom are floating fifty miles away from each other in you mind because they refer to different notions, but they're cheek-by-jowl as far as your tongue is concerned. And that's what a poem does. Poems match sounds up the way you matched them when you were a tiny kid, using that detachable front phoneme.

  Nicholson Baker

  Kids, Curves, Brain

  Nicholson Baker (2009). “The Anthologist: A Novel”, p.111, Simon and Schuster

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• And when he had put his hand on mine with a cheerful look, wherefrom I took courage, he brought me within to the secret things. Here sighs, laments, and deep wailings were resounding through the starless air; wherefore at first I wept thereat. Strange tongues, horrible utterances, words of woe, accents of anger, voices high and faint, and sounds of hands with them, were making a tumult which whirls always in that air forever dark, like the sand when the whirlwind breathes.

  Dante Alighieri

  Dark, Air, Hands

  Dante Alighieri (2005). “The Divine Comedy: Inferno”, p.13, Simon and Schuster

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• Because you need me," he said, drawing in his breath as she squirmed against him. "Just as I need you." He crushed his mouth to hers. "I've needed you for years." Another kiss, this one deep and drugging, his tongue searching her intimately

  Lisa Kleypas

  Kissing, Years, Drawing

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• I also think pronunciation of a foreign tongue could be better taught than by demanding from the pupil those internal acrobatic feats that are generally impossible and always useless. This is the sort of instruction one receives : “Press your tonsils against the underside of your larynx. Then with the convex part of the septum curved upwards so as almost — but not quite — to touch the uvula, try with the tip of your tongue to reach your thyroid. Take a deep breath, and compress your glottis. Now without opening your lips say "Garoo".' And when you have done it they are not satisfied.

  Jerome K. Jerome

  Thinking, Trying, Done

  "The Selected Work of Jerome K. Jerome".

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• when you [lose someone], it feels like the hole in your gum when a tooth falls out. You can chew, you can eat, you have plenty of other teeth, but your tongue keeps going back to that empty place, where all nerves are still a little raw

  Jodi Picoult

  Fall, Empty Places, Teeth

  Jodi Picoult (2010). “House Rules: A Novel”, p.166, Simon and Schuster

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• The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap And seeing that it was a soft October night Curled once about the house, and fell asleep

  T. S. Eliot

  Fall, Night, Fog

  T.S. Eliot (2011). “The Complete Poems and Plays of T. S. Eliot”, p.7, Faber & Faber

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• At the heart of the matter is a battle between wish and fear. Fear generally proves stronger than a wish, but it leaves a taste of disappointment on the tongue.

  George Packer

  Disappointment, Fear, Heart

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