Head Quotes (page 22)
The rowdy gang of singers who sat at the scattered tables saw Arthur walk unsteadily to the head of the stairs, and though they must have all known that he was dead drunk, and seen the danger he would soon be in, no one attempted to talk to him and lead him back to his seat. With eleven pints of beer and seven small gins playing hide-and-seek inside his stomach, he fell from the top-most stair to the bottom.
Alan Sillitoe
But in truth, the world is constantly shifting: shape and size, location in space. It's got edges and chasms, too many to count. They open up, close, reappear somewhere else. Geologists nay have mapped out the planet's tectonic plates -hidden shelves of rock that grind, one against the other, forming mountains, creating continents - but thy can't plot the fault lines that run through our heads, divide out hearts. The map of the world is always changing; sometimes it happens overnight. All it...
Anderson Cooper
She pointed to a chair, then shifted the finger to her son. "You, go. I'll finish with you later."I'll be at the stables, doing penance." With a heavy sigh, Patrick rose, then he wrapped his arms around his mother's waist, laid his chin on top of her head. "Sorry."Get."But Brian saw her lay a hand over Patrick's, and squeeze. With a quick grin tossed to the room in general, he bolted. "That boy's responsible for every other line on my face," Adelia muttered."What lines?" Travis asked, and...
Nora Roberts
Melanie still grieves for Jared," she stated. I felt my head nod without willing the action. "You grieve for him."I closed my eyes."The dreams continue?"Every night," I mumbled."Tell me about then." Her voice was soft, persuasive. "I don't like to talk about them."I know. Try. It might help."How? How will it help to tell you that I see his face every time I close my eyes? That I wake up and cry when he's not there? That the memories are so strong I can't separate hers from mine anymore?
Stephenie Meyer
Bees buzzed in the bean blossoms. And the sun beat down on the upturned shell of Om. There is also a hell for tortoises. He was too tired to waggle his That was all you could do, waggle your legs. And stick your head out as far as it would go and wave it about in the hope that you could lever yourself over.
Terry Prachett