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Clutch Quotes (page 2)

About her husband, i did actually enquire, but she held her private life so fucking tightly, like a tourist clutching a handbag on the A train,.. Peter Carey
In my despair my enemy was my only hope, and I pursued him, clutching at his heel. Thus he brought me back at last to the secret ways... J. R. R. Tolkien
she clutched her purse and was completely composed, gracefully accepting people’s sympathies, but when they started to shovel the dirt over old dick’s coffin she began to weep, and her grief was strong enough to chase the sparrows from the trees. Alice Hoffman
He plunged his arms deep to embrace One who vanished in agitated water. Again and again he kissed The lips that seemed to be rising to kiss his But dissolved, as he touched them, Into a soft splash and a shiver of ripples. How could he clasp and caress his own reflection? And still he could not comprehend What the deception was, what the delusion. He simply became more excited by it. Poor misguided boy! Why clutch so vainly At such a brittle figment? What you hope To lay hold of has no... Ovid
Oh! But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire; secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster. Charles Dickens
She had been taught in her girlhood to fondle and cherish those long-necked, sinuous creatures, the phrases of Chopin, so free, so flexible, so tactile, which begin by seeking their ultimate resting-place somewhere beyond and far wide of the direction in which they started, the point which one might have expected them to reach, phrases which divert themselves in those fantastic bypaths only to return more deliberately—with a more premediated reaction, with more precision, as on a crystal bowl... Marcel Proust
Truman Capote quote: "The way his plump hand clutched at her hip seemed somehow..."
The way his plump hand clutched at her hip seemed somehow improper; not morally, aesthetically. Truman Capote
Tom Stoppard quote: "We drift down time, clutching at straws. But what good's a..."
We drift down time, clutching at straws. But what good's a brick to a drowning man? Tom Stoppard
She was tough in the best sense of the word. She'd taken blows, the disappointments, and had worked her way through them. Some people, he knew, would have buckled under, found a clutch, or given up. But she had carved a place for herself and made it work. Nora Roberts
Deep, choking sobs that sounded like his soul was being torn apart. He clutched at his father and Max took his in his arms. "I am so sorry dad." Kyle sobbed. "And I forgive you because that is what fahters do" said Max Clive Cussler
When Reiko left, I stretched out on the sofa and closed my eyes. I lay there steeping myself into silence when, out of nowhere, I thought of the time Kizuki and I took a motorcycle trip. That had been autumn too, I realized. Autumn how many years ago? Yes, four years ago. I recalled the small of Kizuki's leather jacket and the racket made by that red Yamaha 125cc bike. We went to a spot far down the coast, and came back the same evening, exhausted. Nothing special happened on that trip, but I... Haruki Murakami
This one guy Roland was so weird that during sex his voice altered—as if he were a fucking alien—and he started talking like a baby in a bizarre high-pitched voice. He’d start screaming shit like, “I just want to fuck my baby! I’m your baby! Will you be my baby? Baby? Baby?” For one thing, he couldn’t decide whether he was the baby or the daddy. Make up your mind, freak. I had to force myself out from under him and flee the apartment undressed, clutching my clothes. Kathy Griffin
Stanislaw Lem quote: "it is easy not to believe in monsters, considerably more..."
...it is easy not to believe in monsters, considerably more difficult to escape their dread and loathsome clutches. Stanislaw Lem
I clutched at the brow. The mice in my interior had now got up an informal dance and were buck-and-winging all over the place like a bunch of Nijinskys. P. G. Wodehouse
He did not like the grown-ups who talked down to him, but the ones who went on talking in their usual way, leaving him to leap along in their wake, jumping at meanings, guessing, clutching at known words, and chuckling at complicated jokes as they suddenly dawned. He had the glee of the porpoise then, pouring and leaping through strange seas. T. H. White

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