Coursing Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
i-am-diagnosed-with-not-having-enough-insanelyaddictive-drugs-coursing-through-my-body-sarah-silverman
i-have-seen-movement-sinews-sky-and-blood-coursing-in-veins-moon-muhammad-iqbal
i-certainly-dont-think-adrenalin-coursing-through-your-veins-is-going-to-help-with-fine-motor-skills-golf-stuart-appleby
apathy-is-slow-poison-coursing-through-body-politic-that-paves-way-to-tyranny-laurence-overmire
pundits-talk-about-populist-rage-as-way-to-trivialize-anger-fear-coursing-through-middle-class-elizabeth-warren
does-america-really-need-70-percent-worlds-lawyers-is-it-healthy-for-our-economy-to-have-18-million-lawsuits-coursing-through-our-system-annually-dan-quayle
oh-she-heard-it-toono-waters-coursing-canyon-empty-sun-soundless-beast-your-life-nowhere-hiding-p-103-barbara-blatner
if-american-company-has-drop-patriotic-blood-coursing-through-its-system-then-surely-it-would-set-up-in-america-employ-americans-right-henry-rollins
while-you-were-sleeping-i-figured-out-everything-i-was-constructed-for-you-you-were-molded-for-me-now-i-feel-your-name-coursing-through-my-veins-you-spill-canvas
and-i-swore-it-to-myself-night-maurice-ran-away-ilyse-screamed-terror-fury-coursing-through-her-veins-ill-swear-it-again-no-matter-what-you-do-you-will-never-conquer-me-melika-da
we-sit-talk-quietly-with-long-lapses-silence-i-am-aware-stream-that-has-no-language-coursing-beneath-quiet-heaven-your-eyes-which-has-no-speech-william-carlos-williams
when-youre-writing-something-you-know-its-good-you-get-flushed-you-can-feel-blood-coursing-through-your-veins-you-feel-alive-all-your-nerve-endings-madonna-ciccone
i-dont-understand-hate-ive-seen-its-power-ive-known-its-wrath-ive-even-felt-it-coursing-through-my-veins-pushing-me-on-but-i-dont-know-where-it-comes-from-why-it-lasts-how-it-can
mortals-live-but-their-souls-are-little-more-than-raw-energy-coursing-through-flesh-when-they-die-that-energy-is-broken-down-returned-to-cosmos-there-is-no-heaven-no-hell-only-de
you-will-notice-phenomena-meditation-you-may-see-dazzling-lights-feel-energy-coursing-through-different-parts-your-body-feel-as-if-you-are-floating-frederick-lenz
but-then-i-realized-they-werent-calling-out-for-their-own-mothers-not-those-weak-women-those-victims-drug-addicts-shopaholics-cookie-bakers-they-didnt-mean-women-who-let-them-dow
I thought how lovely and how strange a river is. A river is a river, always there, and yet the water flowing through it is never the same water and is never still. It's always changing and is always on the move. And over time the river itself changes too. It widens and deepens as it rubs and scours, gnaws and kneads, eats and bores its way through the land. Even the greatest rivers- the Nile and the Ganges, the Yangtze and he Mississippi, the Amazon and the great grey-green greasy Limpopo all set about with fever trees-must have been no more than trickles and flickering streams before they grew into mighty rivers. Are people like that? I wondered. Am I like that? Always me, like the river itself, always flowing but always different, like the water flowing in the river, sometimes walking steadily along andante, sometimes surging over rapids furioso, sometimes meandering wit hardly any visible movement tranquilo, lento, ppp pianissimo, sometimes gurgling giacoso with pleasure, sometimes sparkling brillante in the sun, sometimes lacrimoso, sometimes appassionato, sometimes misterioso, sometimes pesante, sometimes legato, sometimes staccato, sometimes sospirando, sometimes vivace, and always, I hope, amoroso. Do I change like a river, widening and deepening, eddying back on myself sometimes, bursting my banks sometimes when there's too much water, too much life in me, and sometimes dried up from lack of rain? Will the I that is me grow and widen and deepen? Or will I stagnate and become an arid riverbed? Will I allow people to dam me up and confine me to wall so that I flow only where they want? Will I allow them to turn me into a canal to use for they own purposes? Or will I make sure I flow freely, coursing my way through the land and ploughing a valley of my own?

Aidan Chambers
i-thought-how-lovely-how-strange-river-is-a-river-is-river-always-there-yet-water-flowing-through-it-is-never-same-water-is-never-still-its-always-changing-is-always-on-move-and-
And then, with a shock like high-voltage coursing through me, the phone beside me started pealing thinly. I just stood there and stared at it, blood draining from my face. A call to a tollbooth? It must, it must be a wrong number, somebody wanted the Information Booth or-! It must have been audible outside, with all I had the slide partly closed. One of the redcaps passing by turned, looked over, then started coming across toward where I was. To get rid of him I picked up the receiver, put it to my ear. 'You'd better come out now, time's up, ' a flat, deadly voice said. 'They're calling your train, but you're not getting on that one - or any other.' 'Wh-where are talking from?' 'The next booth to yours, ' the voice jeered. 'You forgot the glass inserts only reach halfway down.' The connection broke and a man's looming figure was shadowing the glass in front of my eyes, before I could even get the receiver back on the hook. I dropped it full-length, tensed my right arm to pound it through his face as soon as I shoved the glass aside. He had a revolver-bore for a top vest-button, trained on me. Two more had shown up behind him, from which direction I hadn't noticed. It was very dark in the booth now, their collective silhouettes shut out all the daylight. The station and all its friendly bustle was blotted out, had receded into the far background, a thousand miles away for all the help it could give me. I slapped the glass wearily aside, came slowly out. One of them flashed a badge - maybe Crow had loaned him his for the occasion. 'You're being arrested for putting slugs in that phone. It won't do any good to raise your voice and shriek for help, try to tell people different. But suit yourself.' I knew that as well as he; heads turned to stare after us by the dozens as they started with me in their midst through the station's main-level. But not one in all that crowd would have dared interfere with what they mistook for a legitimate arrest in the line of duty. The one with the badge kept it conspicuously tilted in his upturned palm, at sight of which the frozen onlookers slowly parted, made way for us through their midst. I was being led to my doom in full view of scores of people. ("Graves For The Living")

Cornell Woolrich
and-then-with-shock-like-highvoltage-coursing-through-me-phone-beside-me-started-pealing-thinly-i-just-stood-there-stared-at-it-blood-draining-from-my-face-a-call-to-tollbooth-it
Arian paced the cavern in his mountain in agitation and a wee bit of anxiety. He was shaking off the dragon sleep from the past six hundred years. Not only had it been six centuries since he had been in human form, but there was a war the Dragon Kings were involved in. Con and the others were waiting for him to join in the war. Every King had been woken to take part. After all the wars they had been involved in, Arian wasn't happy to be woken to join another. Because of Ulrik. The banished and disgraced Dragon King hadn't just made a nuisance of himself, but he somehow managed to get his magic returned. Which meant the Kings needed to put extra magic into keeping the four silver dragons sleeping undisturbed deep within the mountain. They were Ulrik's dragons, and he would want to wake them soon. But it wasn't just Ulrik that was causing mischief. The Dark Fae were as well. It infuriated Arian that they were once more fighting the Dark. Hadn't the Fae Wars killed enough Fae and dragons? Then again, as a Dragon King as old as time itself, they were targets for others who wanted to defeat them. For Ulrik, he just wanted revenge. Arian hated him for it, but he could understand. Mostly because Arian had briefly joined Ulrik in his quest to rid the realm of humans. Thoughts of Ulrik were pushed aside as Arian found himself thinking about why he had taken to his mountain. When he came here six hundred years earlier, it was to remain there for many thousands of years. The Dragon Kings sought their mountains for many reasons. Some were just tired of dealing with mortals, but others had something they wished to forget for a while. Arian was one of the latter. There were many things he did in his past when the King of Kings, Constantine, asked. Not all of them Arian was proud of. The one that sent him to his mountain still preyed upon him. He didn't remember her name, but he remembered her tears. Because of the spell to prevent any of the Dragon Kings from falling in love with mortals, Arian had easily walked away from the female. Six centuries later, he could still hear her begging him to stay with her, still see the tears coursing down her face. Though he hadn't felt anything, it bothered him that he had so easily walked away. Because Con had demanded it. Loyalty-above all else. The Dragon Kings were his family, and Dreagan his home. There was never any question if he were needed that Arian would do whatever it took to help his brethren in any capacity asked of him.

Donna Grant
arian-paced-cavern-in-his-mountain-in-agitation-wee-bit-anxiety-he-was-shaking-off-dragon-sleep-from-past-six-hundred-years-not-only-had-it-been-six-centuries-since-he-had-been-i
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