Raked 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
a-tale-from-which-pieces-have-been-raked-out-is-like-fire-that-has-been-poked-one-does-not-know-operation-has-been-performed-but-everyone-feels-rudyard-kipling
good-deeds-in-this-life-are-coals-raked-up-in-embers-to-make-fire-next-day-thomas-overbury
some-brains-are-barren-grounds-that-will-not-bring-seed-fruit-forth-unless-they-are-well-manured-with-old-wit-which-is-raked-from-other-writers-margaret-cavendish
grocery-shopping-kiras-gaze-raked-over-him-well-honey-one-thing-about-it-i-dont-think-you-have-to-worry-about-buying-beef-while-youre-out-it-looks-lora-leigh
he-exhaled-loudly-raked-hand-through-sable-brown-hair-he-always-kept-stylishly-messy-look-rose-you-dont-have-to-keep-up-with-hardtoget-thing-youve-richelle-mead
but-touch-company-any-man-whatsoever-stirreth-up-their-heat-which-in-their-solitude-was-hushed-quiet-lay-as-cinders-raked-up-in-ashes-michel-de-montaigne
its-complicated-issue-you-cant-boil-it-down-in-tweet-two-sentences-cannot-sum-up-whole-gun-debate-the-minute-you-try-to-talk-about-it-honestly-openly-you-get-raked-over-coals
kiril-sat-up-raked-hand-through-his-hair-in-light-dawn-shara-was-still-on-his-mind-she-was-dark-spy-sent-to-monitor-spy-donna-grant
he-nipped-her-bottom-lip-teasingly-his-breath-warm-against-her-face-his-spicy-scent-total-aphrodisiac-as-he-kissed-hot-path-along-her-jawline-she-raked-her-fingers-down-his-back-
toklo-raked-his-companions-with-hard-glance-dont-risk-your-own-safety-i-bet-youll-risk-yours-lusa-said-aware-once-again-how-deeply-she-trusted-this-bear-thats-what-im-here-for-to
When you got captured, I didn't know... " He trailed off, had to chug whiskey before he could continue. "If it'd be like... " "What?" "Like it was with Clotile." "Oh, Jackson, no. I was okay. I'm unharmed." "Didn't know if I'd get there too late, " he said with a shudder. Then he crossed over to me, until we stood toe-to-toe. "Evie, if you ever get taken from me again, you better know that I'll be coming for you." He cupped my face with a bloodstained hand. "So you stay the hell alive! You don't do like Clotile, you doan take that way out. You and me can get through anything, just give me a chance."-his voice broke lower "just give me a chance to get to you." He buried his face in my hair, inhaling deeply. "There is nothing that can happen to you that we can't get past."... "When you say we... ?" He pulled back, gazing down at me, his eyes blazing. "I'm goan to lay it all out there for you. Laugh in my face-I don't care. But I'm goan to get this off my chest." "I won't laugh. I'm listening." "Evie, I've wanted you from the first time I saw you. Even when I hated you, I wanted you." He raked his fingers through his hair. "I got it bad, me." My heart felt like it'd stopped-so that I could hear him better. "For as long as you've been looking down your nose at me, I've been craving you, an envie like I've never known." "I don't look down at you! I'm too busy looking up to you."... "The corners of his lips curled for an instant before he grew serious again. "You asked me if I had that phone with your pictures, if I'd looked at it. Damn right, I did! I saw you playing with a dog at the beach, and doing a crazy-ass flip off a high dive, and making faces for the camera. I learned about you"- his voice grew hoarse -"and I wanted more of you. To see you every day." With a humourless laugh, he admitted, "After the Flash, I was constantly sourcing ways to charge a goddamned phone-that would never make a call." I murmured, "I didn't know... I couldn't be sure." "It's you for me, peekon.

Kresley Cole
when-you-got-captured-i-didnt-know-he-trailed-off-had-to-chug-whiskey-before-he-could-continue-if-itd-be-like-what-like-it-was-with-clotile-oh-jackson-no-i-was-okay-im-unharmed-d
From p. 40 of Signet Edition of Thomas Wolfe's _You Can't Go Home Again_ (1940): Some things will never change. Some things will always be the same. Lean down your ear upon the earth and listen. The voice of forest water in the night, a woman's laughter in the dark, the clean, hard rattle of raked gravel, the cricketing stitch of midday in hot meadows, the delicate web of children's voices in bright air-these things will never change. The glitter of sunlight on roughened water, the glory of the stars, the innocence of morning, the smell of the sea in harbors, the feathery blur and smoky buddings of young boughs, and something there that comes and goes and never can be captured, the thorn of spring, the sharp and tongueless cry-these things will always be the same. All things belonging to the earth will never change-the leaf, the blade, the flower, the wind that cries and sleeps and wakes again, the trees whose stiff arms clash and tremble in the dark, and the dust of lovers long since buried in the earth-all things proceeding from the earth to seasons, all things that lapse and change and come again upon the earth-these things will always be the same, for they come up from the earth that never changes, they go back into the earth that lasts forever. Only the earth endures, but it endures forever. The tarantula, the adder, and the asp will also never change. Pain and death will always be the same. But under the pavements trembling like a pulse, under the buildings trembling like a cry, under the waste of time, under the hoof of the beast above the broken bones of cities, there will be something growing like a flower, something bursting from the earth again, forever deathless, faithful, coming into life again like April.

Thomas Wolfe
from-p-40-signet-edition-thomas-wolfes-_you-cant-go-home-again_-1940-some-things-will-never-change-some-things-will-always-be-same-lean-down-your-ear-upon-earth-listen-the-voice-
Is power like the vis viva and the quantite d'avancement? That is, is it conserved by the universe, or is it like shares of a stock, which may have great value one day, and be worthless the next? If power is like stock shares, then it follows that the immense sum thereof lately lost by B[olingbroke] has vanished like shadows in sunlight. For no matter how much wealth is lost in stock crashes, it never seems to turn up, but if power is conserved, then B's must have gone somewhere. Where is it? Some say 'twas scooped up by my Lord R, who hid it under a rock, lest my Lord M come from across the sea and snatch it away. My friends among the Whigs say that any power lost by a Tory is infallibly and insensibly distributed among all the people, but no matter how assiduously I search the lower rooms of the clink for B's lost power, I cannot seem to find any there, which explodes that argument, for there are assuredly very many people in those dark salons. I propose a novel theory of power, which is inspired by... the engine for raising water by fire. As a mill makes flour, a loom makes cloth and a forge makes steel, so we are assured this engine shall make power. If the backers of this device speak truly, and I have no reason to deprecate their honesty, it proves that power is not a conserved quantity, for of such quantities, it is never possible to make more. The amount of power in the world, it follows, is ever increasing, and the rate of increase grows ever faster as more of these engines are built. A man who hordes power is therefore like a miser who sits on a heap of coins in a realm where the currency is being continually debased by the production of more coins than the market can bear. So that what was a great fortune, when first he raked it together, insensibly becomes a slag heap, and is found to be devoid of value. When at last he takes it to the marketplace to be spent. Thus my Lord B and his vaunted power hoard what is true of him is likely to be true of his lackeys, particularly his most base and slavish followers such as Mr. Charles White. This varmint has asserted that he owns me. He fancies that to own a man is to have power, yet he has got nothing by claiming to own me, while I who was supposed to be rendered powerless, am now writing for a Grub Street newspaper that is being perused by you, esteemed reader.

Neal Stephenson
is-power-like-vis-viva-quantite-davancement-that-is-is-it-conserved-by-universe-is-it-like-shares-stock-which-may-have-great-value-one-day-be-worthless-next-if-power-is-like-stoc
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