Lucia Quotes

Hey Lucia, Pay up, suckah, Emma got dental with some dude.

But grieving people are selfish. They won’t let you comfort them and they say you don’t understand and they make you feel useless when all your life you’ve been functional to them.

Damiãno is hot,” Lucia murmured, then realized she’d spoken aloud. “And by that, I mean, I respect his mind.

What are you trying to prove?" Lucia demanded. Between strikes, he bellowed, "That you should no' have left me!" "You were going to do it to me--don't bother denying it!" When he didn't, she said, "Then why are you different?" Another volley of arrows. "What gives you the right to risk yourself?" He snapped, "Because you could move on if something happened to me.

Ach, woman! He raked his fingers through his hair. "You want me as much as I want you." "Assuming that's true -" "It's true." "- I can't. Not now." "It's no' your time of the month. I know that." "Ew." Valkyrie didn't have periods. "You're the only one here with a monthly cycle, werewolf." - Lucia and Garreth MacRieve

Regin had known the risk in coming here, but she wasn't fearful. As Lucia had also told her, "Sometimes I don't think you have the sense to be afraid when you should." Regin had interpreted that to mean, "You have no sense of fear, oh, great Reginleit.

I can't believe you're going to sacrifice your archery mojo for MacReive." Lucia would forfeit her fantastical skill with a bow if she was unchaste. "Who am I going to hang out with when your a talentless nobody?

Poor people wait a lot. Welfare, unemployment lines, laundromats, phone booths, emergency rooms, jails, etc.

I’m having a hard time writing about Sunday. Getting the long hollow feeling of Sundays. No mail and faraway lawn mowers, the hopelessness.

The hours of the morning between breakfast and lunch were the time which the inhabitants of Riseholme chiefly devoted to spying on each other.

That's the only thing that matters, honey, for someone to see more in you than you thought there was to see.

There was Layla in the fullness of her lips, Lulu in the thick waves of her hair, Lu Xin in the intensity of her hazel eyes, Lucia in their twinkle. She was not alone. Maybe she never would be alone again. There, in the mirror, was every incarnation of Lucinda staring back at her and wondering, "What is to become of us? What about our history, and our love?

I exaggerate a lot and I get fiction and reality mixed up, but I don't actually ever lie.

What? Who are you marrying?” His jaw tightened.“Princess Cleiona Bellos.” Lucia could not believe her ears. “This has been arranged.” Magnus gave her a look.“Oh, not at all. Since helping to take her father's kingdom and destroy her life,I couldn’t help but fall madly in love with her. Yes,obviously it was arranged.

But I was going to learn the hardest lesson in life: that those who are closest to you, always betray you first.

She looks at Sam. 'Close your ears if you don't want to know what I suspect to be the sex of your child,' she says, and he blocks his ears. 'It's Sam's?' Jonesey asks, surprised, just as he gets a message. 'Where have you been, Jonesey?' Bernadette says. 'In La La Land?' 'Contrary to popular belief, I think it has no penis,' Georgie whispers to them while Lucia covers Sam's ears. Jonesey looks up from his text messaging, shocked. 'Poor little guy.

I hope you're not smoking in front of her,' Lucia says to him. 'Yeah, I lie in bed and puff in her face, Lucia,' he says, irritated.

The Campus laundry has a sign, like most laundries do, POSITIVELY NO DYEING. I drove all over town with a green bedspread until I came to Angel’s with his yellow sign, YOU CAN DIE HERE ANYTIME.

Reason offers us many possibilities at once. Intuition infallibly chooses the best. Remember this and you cannot err; you will always make the right choice.

Oh, Lucia the captain said softly, you are so little and so lovely. how I would have liked to have taken you to Norway and shown you the fiords in the midnight sun, and to China- what you've missed, Lucia, by being born too late to travel the Seven Seas with me! And what I've missed, too.

The world just goes along. Nothing much matters, you know? I mean really matters. but then sometimes, just for a second, you get this grace, this belief that it does matter, a whole lot.

I felt before I thought, as all humans do.

My legs! Lord Jesus stop the pain in my legs!” “Hush John,” Florida said. “That’s only phantom pain.” “Is it real?” I asked her. She shrugged. “All pain is real.

The good things that happen to us were meant to happen, and the bad things that happen are lessons meant to teach us to be better.

We are unhappy because we think that love is something we require from someone else.

Te veel kennis over onszelf doen we op uit de blikken van anderen. Wij vertrouwen eerder op hoe wij gezien worden dan op hoe wij onszelf zien.

My love was alive, not because I was loved, but because I myself loved!

Chi non legge, a 70 anni avrà vissuto una sola vita: la propria. Chi legge avrà vissuto 5000 anni: c’era quando Caino uccise Abele, quando Renzo sposò Lucia, quando Leopardi ammirava l’infinito… perché la lettura è una immortalità all’indietro.

So,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m too much for you. You should have said something. We might be married, Mercy, but no still means no.” I widened my eyes at him. “I just haven’t wanted to hurt your feelings.” “When I give you that little nudge, hmm?” His voice took on a considering air. “Come to think of it, I’m feeling a little nudge coming on right now.” “Now?” I whispered in horrified tones. I looked up toward Jesse’s room. “Think of the children.” He tilted his head as if to listen, then shook it. “They won’t hear anything from there.” He started slowly down the stairs. “Think of Darryl, Zack, Lucia, and Joel,” I said earnestly. “They’ll be scarred for life.” “You know what they say about werewolves,” he told me gravely, stepping down to the ground. I broke and ran—and he was right on my tail. Figuratively speaking, of course. I don’t have a tail unless I’m in my coyote shape.

God sends drunks blackouts because if they knew what they had done they would surely die of shame.

To sit alone in the lamplight with a book spread out before you, and hold intimate converse with men of unseen generations-such is a pleasure beyond compare.

Time stops when someone dies. Of course it stops for them, maybe, but for the mourners time runs amok. Death comes too soon. It forgets the tides, the days growing longer and shorter, the moon. It rips up the calendar. You aren't at your desk or on the subway or fixing dinner for the children. You're reading People in a surgery waiting room, or shivering outside on a balcony smoking all night long. you stare into space, sitting in your childhood bedroom with the lobe on the desk... The bad part is that when you return to your ordinary life all the routines, the marks of the day, seem like senseless lies. all is suspect, a trick to lull us, rock us back into the placid relentlessness of time.

As a librarian I learned one of life’s great truths: you don’t have to know all the answers, you just have to know where to find them.

The only reason I have lived so long is that I let go of my past. Shut the door on grief on regret on remorse. If I let them in, just one self-indulgent crack, whap, the door will fling open gales of pain ripping through my heart blinding my eyes with shame breaking cups and bottles knocking down jars shattering windows stumbling bloody on spilled sugar and broken glass terrified gagging until with a final shudder and sob I shut the heavy door. Pick up the pieces one more time.

Once I faced a female with diamond skin," Nix said breathlessly. "I was transfixed - even as she was choking the life out of me." "Really?" " No, I saw that character on X men. I just wanted to commiserate. Alas, I have no weaknesses." "Except your insanity," Lucia pointed out. sigh. "Well played, Archer. then carry on...

MacRieve had been roaring in his cage in the basement for hours now, […] "Let me the bluidy hell out of here!" sounded up from below. Regin glared at Lucia, as if this were her fault. "He is harshing my buzz, and I am" – Regin turned to yell over her shoulder – "not interested!" "Open this fucking cage, you glowing bluidy freak!" Gods, he was fierce.

Anybody says he knows just how someone else feels is a fool.

Everything good or bad that has occurred in my life has been predictable and inevitable, especially the choices and actions that have made sure I am now utterly alone.

If you accept others as equals, you embrace them unconditionally, now and forever. But if you let them know that you tolerate them, you suggest in the same breath that they are actually an inconvenience, like a nagging pain or an unpleasant odour you are willing to disregard.

Death is healing, it tells us to forgive, it reminds us that we don’t want to die alone.

The truth doesn't only excist of what you see.

Could it be possible? That the winds of fate had brought them together? Had it been written in stone that he was the man Leah would choose in St. James Cathedral that day, or had it just been his luck?

There was no 'I' in team, but there was meat in team. And we were all dead meat.

He was sin, a man wild with lust, and I loved that I was the reason for it.

I've never understood how so many barely literate people read the Bible so much. It's hard. In the same way it surprises me that uneducated seamstresses all over the world can figure out how to put in sleeves and zippers.

There is a certain amount which I shan't mention publicly," Elizabeth said. "Things about Lucia which I should never dream of stating openly." "Those are just the ones I should like to hear about most," said Diva. "Just a few little titbits.

One can only learn what one doesn’t know.

Fuck porn. A chick as hot as Aliyana Lucia sitting in front of me, hair ruffled in a messy knot and shirt gaping, talking to me in Spanish was the hottest thing I’d ever fucking seen.

Some lady at a bridge party somewhere started the rumor that to test the honesty of a cleaning woman you leave little rosebud ashtrays around with loose change in them, here and there. My solution to this is to always add a few pennies, even a dime.

But what bothers me is that I only accidentally noticed them. What else have I missed? How many times in my life have I been, so to speak, on the back porch, not the front porch? What would have been said to me that I failed to hear? What love might there have been that I didn't feel?

I don't think I ever really liked the world until I met him.

The lack of a father leaves a hole in a woman’s heart, Lucia. A girl needs to feel she is protected; she needs masculine energy to develop trust in men and later to be able to give herself in love.

I need you to scry for Lousha," he said. "You told me once that you could." "Yeah, I can get you in her vicinity." Garreth had taken Lucia's scent into him and could find her from miles away. "That'll work." Witches could come in handy, he supposed. "But I don't do gratis." Garreth bluidy hated witches! "Charge me what you will! Just give me the fucking coordinates." In the background, he heard Bowen say, "Mari, never let it be said that I doona support your extortion--" "Entrepreneurial-ness," she corrected. "But a family discount, love, would no' be amiss." "The whole family? Fine," she said. "I'm scrying." While Garreth waited, she groused about how extended the "MacRieve pack" was.

So El Dorado is no’ a man.” In a soft tone, Lucia said, “She’s La Dorada, the Gilded Woman. History had it wrong. Really wrong.” “Makes sense.” “What do you mean?” “Say you were a conquistador, hunting for the Gilded One’s gold, yet the native was clever enough to keep a tomb full of it hidden. A native—a woman native— somehow outwits you?” He shook his head. “Back in the day, I met a few gold-hungry conquistadors, and let’s put it this way—the fragility of conquistador ego canna be overstated.

I love houses, all the things they tell me, so that's one reason. I don't mind working as a cleaning woman. It's just like reading a book.

Janji kepada diri sendiri barangkali adalah janji yang paling mudah diingkari.

One thing I do know about death. The “better” the person, the more loving and happy and caring, the less of a gap that person’s death makes.

Lucia replied: I’m about 2 go play Tomb Raider . . . but it’s REAL. Bet U wish U were here. HOOKER!

Then Lucia said, "So what do we do now?" "Nothing," Otto said. "Things will go on as just they always have.

It’s imperative that women throw off their conditioning and begin to stand in their own power. –Unplugging the Patriarchy

Us. All regrets, left them in the sea, smiling at life as if it was a beautiful dream, because if one thing is certain, clearing the strange foreigh steam. Like the diamond ring that fits in your finger, we are stronger as a steel linker

The wedding vows are a license to be a complete jerk, with full knowledge that the person you married has agreed, no matter how large a horse's ass you are, to stay by your side until death. A fool could tell you this is a bad deal.

I think I can still shoot.” Nïx said, “Of course you can. Are you fishing for compliments? Fine.” As if reciting, she said, “Lucia the Archer, you are the best. You are unmatched in skill, peerless in all of the world—” “Nïx! I had sex. Skathi vowed she’d revoke my powers.” The soothsayer made a dismissive sound. “Oh, that? She took them back weeks ago.

I wanted to be the one who eased the pain for him, to give him what he wanted. The sad reality of the story was I would never be that girl. And he would never be that man.

I pity you. All your life you are going to be paralyzed by What Is Done, by what people tell you you should think or do... The best thing that could happen to you would be for you to be uncomfortable once in a while.

When your parents are dead your own death faces you.

Semakin bertambah usia dan lintasan peristiwa, doa-doa manusia menjadi semakin sederhana.

That, darling, is the only thing that counts for someone to see more in you than you ever imagined was there.

The only reason I have lived so long is that I let go of my past. Shut the door on grief on regret on remorse.

As a rule, never work for friends. Sooner or later they resent you because you know so much about them. Or else you’ll no longer like them, because you do.)

Because who hasn't tried to pull their arms from the sleeves of gravity's lead coat? Who doesn't have at least one pair of wax wings out in the garage?

El silencio es glorioso, ya que no escuchar nada, quiere decir que todo marcha bien.

Tera, I need a favor. I need you to translate something." "Indeed. And why should I help you?" Lucia said, "To stop an apocalypse." Then she explained where she and MacRieve were and the highlights of the threat. Once she'd finished, Tera sighed. "Can you take a picture of the symbols and e-mail them?" "What's your e-mail addy?" Lucia asked. "Hmm. Thegreatestarcherever at gmail dot com." "Surely the greatest archer ever had already taken that one?" Tera said tightly, "Terafey at thenoblefey dot com." "Pics are on their way.

Give that man a Pixy Stix," Haddie said. "A what?" Lucia asked. "Hold on." She left then returned a moment later with a handful of colorful straws, one of which she threw at Max like a dart. He caught it in midair. That impressed Haddie and she tossed him another, just to see if he could do it again. He fumbled that one.

Everything comes down to this: the reason for every word I have written and every word I will write. I am recounting my life for you so that you may know this secret without the pain of discovering it: We are unhappy because we think that love is something we require from someone else. Our salvation depends on a simple gesture that is nonetheless the most difficult act we can perform: We must give away the thing we most long for. Not to receive but to give.

Then she probably would have waved back," Max said. "And it might be a he." "Ha! Not likely," Lucia said. "Didn't you notice them?" "Them what?" Max asked. "Her... you know. She has breasts, Max! What do you think that is on her chest?" "I think it's a pair of crossed arms," Max said.

I wish the Fallen would just come to us for a change.” Ironically, Fallen Angels dropped from the sky and surrounded us. “I wish I had a chocolate cake!” I exclaimed, staring up. No cake appeared, though I did get a few wry glances. Andrew’s body shook with silent laughter while Lucia gave me raised eyebrows. “What? It worked for the Fallen Angels.

The people who were content with each other spoke as little as those who bristled with resentment or boredom; it was the rhythm of their speech that differed, like a lazy tennis ball batted back and forth or the quick swattings of a fly. *

If the rainbow had an eighth color, it would be you.

She loved him enough for the both of them.

I believe in the fatal hairdo just for the love of saying fatal hairdo.

We will both be our ruin if we do not stop while we are ahead.

I was sixteen. He was thirty-two. There were many laws we would break if we took another step.

I watched his control waver, and secretly for a selfish moment, I hoped it snapped.

Mijn liefde leefde, niet omdat ik WERD bemind, maaar omdat ik zelf liefhad!

I closed my eyes and I thought of the lash of her skirt snapping around her as she danced one evening in a bar on the South Side to a jukebox that was playing “Barefootin’,” of the downy slope of her neck and the declivity in her nightgown as she bent to wash her face in the bathroom sink, of a tuna salad sandwich she’d handed me one windy afternoon as we sat at a picnic table in Lucia, California, and looked out for the passage of whales, and I felt that I loved Emily insofar as I loved those things – beyond reason, and with a longing that made me want to hang my head – but it was a love that felt an awful lot like nostalgia.

In a soldier's arms, she found the strength to fight her battles...

It is ferocious, life, but it must eat . . .

Her smile, though, no, it was her laugh, a dusky, deep cascading laughter that caught the joy, implied and mocked the sorrow in every joy.

She glared up at him, and he wondered how she would react if he kissed that angry frown off her face.

Als iemand iets moois ziet, denkt hij dat het af is. Dat stelt hem tevreden. Hij kijkt niet verder. Hij gaat er niet mee aan de slag. Hij durft er niet aan te slijpen, zodat wij nooit zullen weten wat er allemaal nog onder de oppervlakte zit. Die hele onzichtbare rijkdom zal nooit worden aangeboord.

With regard to religion, finally, it may be briefly said that she believed in God in much the same way as she believed in Australia. For she had no doubts whatever as to the existence of either; and she went to church on Sunday in much the same spirit as she would look at a kangaroo in the zoological gardens; for kangaroos came from Australia.

It has been seven years since you died. Of course what I'll say next is that time has flown by. I got old. All of a sudden, de repente. I walk with difficulty. I even drool. I leave the door unlocked in case I die in my sleep, but it's more likely I'll go endlessly on until I get put away someplace. I am already dotty.... It's not so strange that I talk to my cat but I feel silly because he is totally deaf.

I smoked while they compared booty. Things they took … nail polish, perfume, toilet paper. Things they were given … one-earrings, twenty hangers, torn bras. (Advice to cleaning women: Take everything that your lady gives you and say Thank you. You can leave it on the bus, in the crack.)

Miss Elizabeth Mapp might have been forty, and she had taken advantage of this opportunity by being just a year or two older. Her face was of high vivid colour and was corrugated by chronic rage and curiosity; but these vivifying emotions had preserved to her an astonishing activity of mind and body, which fully accounted for the comparative adolescence with which she would have been credited anywhere except in the charming little town which she had inhabited so long. Anger and the gravest suspicions about everybody had kept her young and on the boil.

Hierdoor duurde het even voor ik doorzag wat de Hollanders zelf allang wisten, dat tolerantie iets anders is dan acceptatie, ja eerder het tegenovergestelde, en dat zulke verdraagzaamheid tegelijk een slim middel tot onderdrukking is. Iemand die je als gelijke aanneemt, omarm je onvoorwaardelijk, voor eens en altijd. Maar door iemand te laten weten dat je hem verdraagt, suggereer je in dezelfde adem dat hij eigenlijk een last is, als een zeurende pijn of een onaangename stank waarover je bereid bent tijdelijk heen te stappen. Onder tolerantie schuilt een dreiging: de stemming kan ieder moment omslaan. Eenmaal in kaart gebracht wordt ieder individu geacht keurig op zijn plek te blijven met een goed leesbaar etiket, als vergiften in een apothekerskast.

Hermy, when she was not otter-hunting, could be very sarcastic, and he had a clear month of Hermy in front of him, without any otter-hunting, which, so she had informed him, was not possible in August. This was mysterious to Georgie, because it did not seem likely that all otters died in August, and a fresh brood came in like caterpillars. If Hermy was here in October she would otter-hunt all morning and snore all afternoon, and be in the best of tempers, but the August visit required more careful steering.

Las de los gitanos son muertes buenas. O a mí me lo parecen, aunque las enfermeras no opinen lo mismo, ni tampoco los celadores. Siempre llegan en manada, y exigen estar con la persona moribunda, besarla y abrazarla, desenchufan y estropean los televisores y los monitores y los demás aparatos. Lo mejor de las muertes de los gitanos es que nunca hacen callar a sus niños. Los adultos aúllan y lloran y gimen, pero los niños siguen correteando por ahí, juegan y ríen sin que nadie les diga que deben estar tristes o ser respetuosos.

Ter refused to ride buses. The people depressed him, sitting there. He liked Greyhound stations though. We used to go to the ones in San Francisco and Oakland. Mostly Oakland, on San Pablo Avenue. Once he told me he loved me because I was like San Pablo Avenue. He was like the Berkeley dump. I wish there was a bus to the dump. We went there when we got homesick for New Mexico. It is stark and windy and gulls soar like nighthawks in the desert. You can see the sky all around you and above you. Garbage trucks thunder through dust-billowing roads. Gray dinosaurs.

De rede is van ons bewustzijn maar de buitenkant. Daaronder zit het gevoel. Vanbinnen, waar niemand ons kan zien, durven wij er feilloos op te vertrouwen. Daar weten wij alles zonder woorden. Als wij nooit naar buiten hoefden te treden zouden we geen moment aan onze intuïtie twijfelen. Maar we gaan uit en willen de anderen ook ons innerlijk keurig presenteren. Dus kammen we onze gedachten uit en trekken ze recht. Herinner jij je dan niet dat je als kind instinctief aanvoelde hoe mensen in elkaar zaten, bij wie je het goede kon vinden en wie voor jou gevaarlijk was, wat je moest doen om gevoed te worden, te overleven en liefde te vinden? Ik geloof dat veel van de kennis waarnaar wij op zoek zijn, een antwoord op alle belangrijke vragen, al vanaf onze geboorte in ons aanwezig is en dat wij alleen maar zijn vergeten hoe we die moeten aanboren. Sterker, van het meeste zijn we vergeten dat het bestaat (…). Al die intuïtieve kennis, die op zijn sterkst is bij onze geboorte, wanneer wij haar het hardst nodig hebben omdat ons nog geen andere middelen ter beschikking staan om te overleven, en die minder wordt naarmate wij leren te denken in plaats van te voelen, dat instinctieve weten is niet vergaan. Het ligt alleen bedolven onder de lawine aan argumenten en redeneringen die wij tegenwoordig nodig hebben om onze wereld voor onszelf begrijpelijk te maken. Af en toe, een enkele keer in een droom, in een moment van verstrooiing vinden we er misschien ineens iets van terug. Inspiratie zal een kunstenaar het noemen, voor iemand die gelooft is het een openbaring. Maar voor ons, die rationeel proberen te denken? Misschien zouden wij het een inval noemen, een moment van verlichting waarin je ineens de oplossing ziet van een vraagstuk dat je nog niet eens had geformuleerd.