Quotes For Him (page 319)
-
-
-
I quizzed him a lot on this point and i suspect the truth was that it was like a lot of things at that age: you don't have any clear reason, you just do it. You do it because you think it might get a laugh, or because you want to see if it'll cause a stir. And when you're asked to explain afterwards, it doesn't seem to make any sense.
Kazuo Ishiguro
She zips back to the podium, and I don't even have time to wish for Gale's safety when she's reading the name. "Peeta Mellark."Peeta Mellark! Oh, no, I think. Not him. Because I recognize this name, although I have never spoken directly to its owner. Peeta Mellark. No, the odds are not in my favor today.
Suzanne Collins
As the sun fell below the horizon, Sir Luckless emerged from the waters with the glory of his triumph upon him, and flung himself in his rusted armor at the feet of Amata, who was the kindest and most beautiful woman he had ever beheld. Flushed with success, he begged for her hand and her heart, and Amata, no less delighted, realized that she had found a man worthy of them.
J. K. Rowling
But you can’t put fight into a man’s guts if he
hasn’t any fight in him. There are some of us so cowardly that you
can’t ever make heroes of us, not even if you frighten us to death.
We know too much, maybe. There are some of us who don’t live in the
moment, who live a little ahead, or a little behind.
Henry Miller
Oh, ma petite, you are growing gargantuan."I looked at him and it was not a friendly look. "Never tease a woman about her weight, Jean-Claude. At least not an American twentieth-century one."He Spread his hands wide. "My deepest apologies."When you apologize, try not to smile at the same time. It ruins the effect.
Laurell K. Hamilton
Several sets of arms would embrace me. But in the end, the only person I truly want to comfort me is Haymitch, because he loves Peeta, too. I reach out for him and say something like his name and he's there, holding me and patting my back. "It's okay. It'll be okay, sweetheart." He sits me on a length of broken marble pillar and keeps an arm around me while I sob.
Suzanne Collins
Joan was nothing more than a friend. He was not in love with her. One does not fall in love with a girl whom one has met only three times. One is attracted, yes; but one does not fall in love. A moment's reflection enabled him to diagnose his sensations correctly. This odd impulse to leap across the compartment and kiss Joan was not love. It was merely the natural desire of a good-hearted young man to be decently chummy with his species.
P. G. Wodehouse
