Luggage Cover Quotes

We've searched our database for all the quotes and captions related to Luggage Cover. Here they are! All 8 of them:

The train station—busy, swarming with people, luggage, porters, taxi drivers and limousine chauffeurs—a giant honeycomb, with worker bees flying in and out, carrying the trash, which covers the entire floor, in and out of the building. Only the honey has been consumed by the selected few, and nothing but the mucus remains. The line—a monstrous larva—the line stretches from the information window and extends almost out of the door. A human worm—hundreds of legs and hands, twisting and breathing disease. What was I thinking? This is just a city like any other, a city with its inhabitants, always busy, from the morning until the nighttime, always itching for a fight, always ready to chew me up and spit me out. A stripped and ragged bone, tossed aside when I can no longer feed its hungry belly. The belly of a beast—a human beast—merciless, yet placatory on the surface. I light a cigarette, spit on the floor, and walk towards the daylight.
Henry Martin (Eluding Reality (Mad Days of Me #3))
So what happened?" "I don't know." Another glance to ensure his continued state of Not Looking, and then I rip off my clothes in one fast swoop. I am now officially stark naked in the room with the most beautiful boy I know. Funny,but this isn't how I imagined this moment. No.Not funny.One hundred percent the exact opposite of funny. "I think I maybe,possibly, vaguely remember hitting the snooze button." I jabber to cover my mortification. "Only I guess it was the off button.But I had the alarm on my phone set,too, so I don't know what happened." Underwear,on. "Did you turn the ringer back on last night?" "What?" I hop into my jeans, a noise he seems to determinedly ignore.His ears are apple red. "You went to see a film,right? Don't you set your mobile to silent at the theater?" He's right.I'm so stupid. If I hadn't taken Meredith to A Hard Day's Night, a Beatles movie I know she loves, I would have never turned it off. We'd already be in a taxi to the airport. "The taxi!" I tug my sweater over my head and look up to find myself standing across from a mirror. A mirror St. Clair is facing. "It's all right," he says. "I told the driver to wait when I came up here. We'll just have to tip him a little extra." His head is still down. I don't think he saw anything.I clear my throat, and he glances up. Our eyes meet in the mirror,and he jumps. "God! I didn't...I mean,not until just now..." "Cool.Yeah,fine." I try to shake it off by looking away,and he does the same. His cheeks are blazing.I edge past him and rinse the white crust off my face while he throws my toothbrush and deodorant and makeup into my luggage, and then we tear downstairs and into the lobby.
Stephanie Perkins (Anna and the French Kiss (Anna and the French Kiss, #1))
In an interview I can’t seem to find, they asked Diddy, “when did you know you were successful?” He responded, “the first time I flew without luggage.” I always believed this would be incredible if we did this in our -ships (friendships, partnerships, intimate relationships, etc.). Imagine showing up with none of that STUFF weighing us down. We’d be free to move about the land and discover things new that’d cover us.
Darnell Lamont Walker
A traffic cop was monitoring the drop-off line, waving cars on if they stood too long. Dreadlock Guy got in his car to leave, but not before rolling down his passenger-side window and beckoning me over. “What you leave behind?” he wanted to know, his Jamaican accent lilting. “Wedding dress.” It came out barely above a whisper. “And his computer. And luggage.” He shook his head with a smile, his dreaded ponytail smacking each shoulder, back and forth. “Clothing is easily replaced. Computers, you can back up the data. Insurance covers what you lose.” I looked at him expectantly, figuring that at any moment, he’d utter “Don’t worry, be happy.” Say it and I’ll pull you out your car window by your dreads and put the hurt on you. “But a kiss like that , miss—” He clucked his tongue. “Irreplaceable. Don’t let that go the other way.” It took me a moment to process his last words, as they came out “gowdee otterway.” But as he put the car in reverse and backed up in order to swing around the shuttle parked infront of him, it sank in.
Jessica Topper (Dictatorship of the Dress (Much "I Do" About Nothing, #1))
I was still brooding over this question when I heard a polite tap outside the tapestry, and a moment later, there was the equally quiet impact of a boot heel on the new tile floor, then another. A weird feeling prickled down my spine, and I twisted around to face the Marquis of Shevraeth, who stood just inside the room. He raised his hands and said, “I am unarmed.” I realized I was glaring. “I hate people creeping up behind me,” I muttered. He glanced at the twenty paces or so of floor between us, then up at the shelves, the map, the new books. Was he comparing this library with the famed Athanarel one--or the equally (no doubt!) impressive one at his home in Renselaeus? I folded my arms and waited for either satire or condescension. When he spoke, the subject took me by surprise. “You said once that your father burned the Astiar library. Did you ever find out why?” “It was the night we found out that my mother had been killed,” I said reluctantly. The old grief oppressed me, and I fought to keep my thoughts clear. “By the order of Galdran Merindar.” “Do you know why he ordered her murder?” he asked over his shoulder, as he went on perusing the books. I shook my head. “No. There’s no way to find out that I can think of. Even if we discovered those who carried out the deed, they might not know the real reasons.” I added sourly, “Well do I remember how Galdran issued lies to cover his misdeeds: Last year, when he commenced the attack against us, he dared to say that it was we who were breaking the Covenant!” I couldn’t help adding somewhat accusingly, “Did you believe that? Not later, but when the war first started.” “No.” I couldn’t see his face. Only his back, and the long pale hair, and his lightly clasped hands were in view as he surveyed my shelves. This was the first time the two of us had conversed alone, for I had been careful to avoid such meetings during his visit. Not wanting to prolong it, I still felt compelled to amplify. I said, “My mother was the last of the royal Calahanras family. Galdran must have thought her a threat, even though she retired from Court life when she adopted into the Astiar family.” Shevraeth was walking along the shelves now, his hands still behind his back. “Yet Galdran had taken no action against your mother previously.” “No. But she’d never left Tlanth before, not since her marriage. She was on her way to Remalna-city. We only know that it was his own household guards, disguised as brigands, that did the job, because they didn’t quite kill the stablegirl who was riding on the luggage coach and she recognized the horses as Merindar horses.” I tightened my grip on my elbows. “You don’t believe it?” Again he glanced back at me. “Do you know your mother’s errand in the capital?” His voice was calm, quiet, always with that faint drawl as if he chose his words with care. Suddenly my voice sounded too loud, and much too combative, to my ears. Of course that made my face go crimson with heat. “Visiting.” This effectively ended the subject, and I waited for him to leave. He turned around then, studying me reflectively. The length of the room still lay between us. “I had hoped,” he said, “that you would honor me with a few moments’ further discourse.” “About what?” I demanded. “I came here at your brother’s invitation.” He spoke in a conversational tone, as though I’d been pleasant and encouraging. “My reasons for accepting were partly because I wanted an interlude of relative tranquility, and partly for diplomatic reasons.” “Yes, Nimiar told me about your wanting to present a solid front with the infamous Astiars. I understand, and I said I’d go along.” “Please permit me to express my profound gratitude.” He bowed gracefully.
Sherwood Smith (Court Duel (Crown & Court, #2))
I once traveled to India to buy a specific book that I couldn't find anywhere else. After reading it, I had to get rid of it, because it was too heavy to carry in my luggage. And so, when traveling in Portugal, I tried to sell it. When I found that nobody was willing to pay for it, I tried offering it to different bookshops. Again, people would refuse the book, many times, without even looking at the cover or the content. And that's when I realized that nations do deserve the misery they face. They deserve their poverty, their challenges and their suffering. Whoever commits such a crime against knowledge, deserves death. And from that moment on, I wished nothing else to the Portuguese but their annihilation from history. Their prehistoric ignorance found among their bookshop keepers, lecturers and politicians, is indeed very representative of the prehistoric and cruel level of a nation that should perish forever. For no nation that commits crimes against literature, knowledge, geniuses and artists should ever exist on Earth.
Robin Sacredfire
Matilde leads us into one of the apartment’s two bedrooms, obviously belonging to Bruno and Luca. Bunk beds are stacked in the corner and the walls are covered in soccer posters. “You can have the bottom bed, Pippa,” Chiara says. “You seem to have a problem with steps.” I snatch a pillow and whip it at her, but she ducks in time, the pillow knocking over a stack of sports magazines. “Girls same as boys.” Matilde laughs as she turns back to the living area. We pull fresh clothes out of our luggage and Chiara heads to the bathroom--the only one in the apartment--closing the door behind her and leaving me to change. I shed my shirt and freshen my deodorant, then fan my skin trying to cool off. I feel wet everywhere. I can still hear Chiara shuffling around in the bathroom, so I quickly change my shorts into ones that are more breathable, and then decide to sprinkle some baby powder down my bra. Just as a little cloud of powder hits my chest, a voice that is neither Chiara’s nor her aunt’s announces its presence in the now open doorway. “You are the American girl who is taking my bed.
Kristin Rae (Wish You Were Italian (If Only . . ., #2))
Ellie! No!” He rushed to her. “God, no! You can’t be leaving me! Don’t!” He grabbed her face and covered her mouth in a hard, desperate kiss. Her eyes flew open in stunned disbelief; she stopped breathing. He released her mouth but not her face, which he held in his hands, his fingers threaded into her hair. “You can’t go, Ellie, you can’t. Don’t you know how much I love you? God, I’d be nothing without you. I never thought I’d get to feel like this again, but you brought me back to life. You took the loneliness away and brought laughter back into my life. Ellie, you’re everything to me—I can’t make it without you. If you leave, I don’t know what I’ll—” She just stared at him, a slight smile on her face. “Really? You don’t say.” “Listen, I know I’m not a good romantic, I know that. I realized just a little while ago that I—Oh, hell, I told you how responsible I was, not how much you light up my life. I told you about my vow and how I could stick to it, not how life without you would be all gray and sad and awful. I didn’t tell you everything you mean to me. I promised myself I’d take care of that tonight, for sure. I was almost too late.” “Tell me now,” she said. “Now?” he asked, dropping his hands from her face. “Right now,” she insisted. “But I haven’t prepared!” “I know. That’s the whole idea,” she said. “I’m listening.” He cleared his throat. “Ellie. Dammit, you saved my life. I was a wallowing, pathetic, self-pitying—” He stopped talking at the sound of her soft laughter. “You’re not supposed to laugh at my attempts to be romantic.” “Noah, that wasn’t romantic. That made me wonder what I ever saw in you. Start over.” He grabbed her face in his hands again. “I want to be with you forever. I want to lie beside you every night, holding you close, whispering to you that I love you more than anything in the world, that you turned my whole world upside down just when it needed to be turned upside down. I want to make forever promises to you out loud, in front of God, and I want you to promise to be my woman, my wife, my one and only love, my best friend and my conscience. You’re never easy, Ellie, but you’re sure never boring…” “I don’t know about that last part,” she commented. “God, I love you so much. If I lost you, I don’t know what I’d do. I’d go after you, that’s what I’d do. I’d find a way to get you back. You know we’re perfect together. I know you feel it because I can feel you feel it.” He grinned roguishly. “We sure fit together perfect, don’t you think? You told me you loved me—tell me again.” “I love you, Noah. I tried not to. I usually screw up love situations. But, apparently, we have that in common.” She grinned. “A good start.” “You won’t leave me?” “Why would I leave you? I adore you. And unless I’m completely stupid, you just asked me to marry you.” “I did. We should give the kids some time to get used to the idea. And we should find a house that can hold us, but as soon as we can work out the details, we should get married.” “Okay,” she said. “Am I late for rehearsal?” “We were waiting for you,” he explained. “Then Walt said he saw you struggling with luggage and thought maybe you weren’t coming, that you were leaving.” She laughed a bit. “Noah, these are Vanni’s hand-me-downs. I thought I had time to unpack them before the rehearsal.” He was shocked silent for a moment, absorbing this, then he grabbed her and kissed her hard. And he said, “I have a feeling I bit off more than I can chew with you.” “No question about that, Your Holiness.” *
Robyn Carr (Forbidden Falls)