Sneaks 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
when-the-bitter-truth-sneaks-up-on-you
why-is-it-that-even-when-youre-trying-your-hardest-not-to-get-attached-something-still-sneaks-up-on-you-claire-cook
the-trouble-youre-expecting-never-happens-its-always-something-that-sneaks-up-other-way-george-r-stewart
i-hate-looking-backward-but-every-once-in-while-it-sneaks-up-on-you-burt-lancaster
happiness-often-sneaks-in-a-door-you-did-not-think-was-open
deception-sneaks-in-through-window-pride-evinda-lepins
time-sneaks-up-on-you-like-windshield-on-bug-john-lithgow
happiness-often-sneaks-through-doors-you-didnt-even-know-were-open-unknown-to-me-p
the-coward-sneaks-to-death-brave-live-on
opportunity-never-sneaks-up-on-those-who-straddle-fence-indecision-napoleon-hill
ever-had-a-memory-that-sneaks-out-of-your-eye-and-rolls-down-your-cheek
the-coward-sneaks-to-death-the-brave-live-on
i-have-string-competitiveness-in-me-its-really-strange-cause-its-not-something-that-i-would-even-expect-myself-to-have-but-every-now-then-it-kinda-hunter-hayes
sometimes-opportunity-knocks-but-most-time-it-sneaks-up-then-quietly-steals-away-doug-larson
happiness-often-sneaks-in-through-door-you-didnt-know-you-left-open-john-barrymore
happiness-sneaks-into-a-door-you-didnt-know-you-left-open
who-else-sneaks-in-their-own-candy-to-the-movie-theater-10-for-a-bag-of-skittles-no-thanks
happiness-often-sneaks-in-through-a-door-you-didnt-know-you-left-open
the-worlds-magic-sneaks-up-on-you-in-secret-settles-next-to-you-when-you-have-your-head-turned-bill-clegg
worry-acts-like-squatter-sneaks-in-tries-to-stay-without-paying-rent-el-evlinda-lepins
when-adulation-life-is-gone-coward-sneaks-to-his-death-but-brave-live-on-george-sewell
when-all-blandishments-life-are-gone-the-coward-sneaks-to-death-brave-live-on-george-sewell
foolishness-pours-out-open-mouthbut-wisdom-sneaks-in-through-ears-gail-z-martin
foolishness-pours-out-open-mouth-but-wisdom-sneaks-in-through-ears-gail-z-martin
worry-is-like-squatter-it-sneaks-in-tries-to-stay-without-paying-rent-serve-it-eviction-papers-hsel-evinda-lepins
yeah-i-made-it-it-sneaks-up-on-you-youre-some-schmuck-you-wake-up-one-day-you-go-good-god-im-cheese-william-h-macy
motivation-is-like-love-happiness-its-byproduct-when-youre-actively-engaged-in-doing-something-it-sneaks-up-zaps-you-when-you-least-expect-it-john-c-maxwell
america-international-jekyll-hyde-land-thousand-disguises-sneaks-up-on-you-but-rarely-surprises-gil-scottheron
you-can-win-in-business-by-playing-checkers-until-someone-sneaks-in-one-night-after-youve-closed-for-day-flips-board-markmiller
texting-is-fundamentally-sneaky-form-communication-which-we-should-despise-but-it-is-such-boon-we-dont-care-we-are-all-sneaks-now-lynne-truss
glory-never-arrives-through-front-door-she-sneaks-in-uninvited-round-back-through-upstairs-window-while-you-are-sleeping-stephen-fry
and-death-doesnt-wait-for-you-when-your-rested-ready-it-sneaks-up-on-you-when-your-exhausted-hungry-cold-scared-you-cant-even-see-straight-lili-st-crow
ryan-alvanos-is-offbeat-insanely-inventive-singersongwriter-who-sneaks-up-on-you-with-sly-wit-subtle-power-steve-morse
come-quickly-with-me-inhale-divine-that-swoops-from-nostril-to-blunted-throat-then-sneaks-past-guarded-doors-into-hallway-your-heart-where-lamplight-grows-merle-nudelman
love-is-like-this-amazing-allconsuming-force-that-sneaks-up-on-you-steals-all-those-brain-cells-that-make-you-think-rationally-replaces-them-with-emotions-powerful-that-youre-imp
trevor-was-as-menacing-as-he-was-gorgeous-if-he-were-vampire-hed-be-dark-kind-kind-that-sneaks-up-on-innocent-girls-bites-without-thought-ellen-schreiber
not-all-magic-is-fireworks-fanfare-sometimes-magic-is-quiet-sneaks-up-on-you-an-illusion-is-what-needs-all-bells-whistles-to-make-itself-appear-grander-than-it-really-is-which-is
in-scene-after-scene-meaning-sneaks-in-sometimes-roars-manohla-dargis
most-bad-guys-in-real-world-dont-know-that-they-are-bad-guys-you-dont-get-flashing-warning-sign-that-youre-about-to-damn-yourself-it-sneaks-up-on-you-when-you-arent-looking-jim-b
At some point in this course, perhaps even tonight, you will read something difficult, something you only partially understand, and your verdict will be this is stupid. Will I argue when you advance that opinion in class the next day? Why would I do such a useless ting? My time with you in short, only thirty-four weeks of classes, and I will not waste it arguing about the merits of this short story or that poem. Why would I, when all such opinions are subjective, and no final resolution can ever be reached?' Some of the kids - Gloria was one of them - now looked lost, but Pete understood exactly what Mr. Ricker, aka Ricky the Hippie, was talking about... 'Time is the answer, " Mr Ricker said on the first day of Pete's sophomore year. He strode back and forth, antique bellbottoms swishing, occasionally waving his arms. "Yes! Time mercilessly culls away the is-stupid from the not-stupid."... "It will occur for you, young ladies and gentlemen, although I will be in your rear-view mirror by the time it happens. Shall I tell you how it happens? You will read something - perhaps 'Dulce et Decorum Est, ' by Wilfred Owen. Shall we use that as an example? Why not?' Then, in a deeper voice that sent chills up Pete's back and tightened his throat, Mr. Ricker cried, " 'Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge... ' And son on. Cetra-cetra. Some of you will say, This is stupid."... 'And yet!" Up went the finger. "Time will pass! Tempus will fugit! Owen's poem may fall away from your mind, in which case your verdict of is-stupid will have turned out to be correct. For you, at least. But for some of you, it will recur. And recur. Each time it does, the steady march of your maturity will deepen its resonance. Each time that poem sneaks back into your mind, it will seem a little less stupid and a little more vital. A little more important. Until it shines, young ladies and gentlemen. Until it shines.

Stephen King
at-some-point-in-this-course-perhaps-even-tonight-you-will-read-something-difficult-something-you-only-partially-understand-your-verdict-will-be-this-is-stupid-will-i-argue-when-
What do we have here?' Grant slurs at me. He seems different and it raises flags in my mind. His fingers wrap around a section of my hair and it scares me. His face is flushed red and his eyes are glassy and bright. I can smell the smoky scent of whiskey or scotch rolling off his tongue as he speaks and breathes heavily. 'I'm lost and I need a ride home.' My voice wavers as I speak and I hate it. I fist my hands in the hem of my blazer. 'I'll get Albert for you, but first spend some time with me, ' he slurs again, sounding like his tongue is too large for his mouth. As if sensing my attention, the tip of his tongue sneaks out and slides along his supple bottom lip. He smiles as he tastes the alcohol that's staining his mouth. His eyes are bright and shiny and glazed over. He has a smirk on his face that shows off his dimple. It no longer reminds me of Whitt. It seems sinister and dangerous- promising something I'm not ready to experience. The feel of his fingers playing with my hair gives me goosebumps and I shiver as my scalp tightens, sucking up the pleasant attention. I do my first stupid-girl moment of my life. I shameless crush on a guy and let it turn my thoughts to mush. 'Okay, if you promise to call Albert first.' I try to negotiate with him and he gives me a naughty smirk for agreeing. He backs me up with his physical presence. His front touches mine- chest-to-chest. His lips part and breathes the smoky, whiskey scent onto my chin. My back hits the door behind me with an audible thump. He reaches around me and I don't wince. I anticipate him touching me and crave it. Instead, his hand twists the doorknob by my hip and I fall backwards. I'm pushed into a dark room until my legs connect with the edge of a bed. I can't see anything, and the only sound is our combined breathing. I feel alive with caution. I'm aware of every hair, every nerve on my flesh. My senses are so in-tuned that I can feel my system pumping the blood through my veins nourishing my whole body.

Erica Chilson
what-do-we-have-here-grant-slurs-at-me-he-seems-different-it-raises-flags-in-my-mind-his-fingers-wrap-around-section-my-hair-it-scares-me-his-face-is-flushed-red-his-eyes-are-gla
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