Standalone Quotes

To be of good quality, you have to excuse yourself from the presence of shallow and callow minded individuals.

Happiness is such a fragile thing, isn't it? So easily burst, like a bubble blown by a child, and always on the verge of being carried away.

I know what it is to want something that could destroy you.

Everyone needs to escape sometimes, and retreating into somebody else's fantasy isn't nearly as satisfying as slipping into your own.

Do not allow any negativity or ugliness in your surroundings, or anybody at all, destroy your confidence or affect your growth as a blooming flower. It is very normal for one ugly weed to not want to stand alone.

I laugh, and it sounds like I've been sucking helium.

Stand up for what you believe in, even if you stand alone.

If a lion turned every time small dogs barked at it, it would be the laughing stock of the jungle.

That's life. Life is the ultimate game, and its rules were made to be broken

The good and the bad never existed in this world as standalone features. They were always bound together.

When mothers warn their daughters about all the cold nasty men out there who will only break their tender little hearts, I'm the one they've got in mind because I'm the one who broke their hearts when their mothers were warning them.

Crazy people always think they're perfectly sane. It's what makes them so crazy; their entire delusion lies within the fact that they believe they aren't deluded.

There were two brothers, Truth and Lie. One day they get to playing, throwing cutlasses up into the air. Them cutlasses come down and fast as can be-swish!-chop each of their faces clean off! Truth bed down, searching for his face. But with no eyes, he can't see. Lie, he sneaky. He snatch up Truth's face and run off! Zip! Now Lie go around wearing Truth's face, fooling everybody he meet.

We're the perfect complement to each other. I help him stay grounded and he helps me fly.

You win,” he panted. His fingers tightened on her hips as he shoved her back into the wall and kept her there. “I’m yours. Be gentle.

The shedding of blood has historically been seen as a male act of heroism: from right-of-passage fistfights, to contact sports and combat. Infrequent, random events seen as standalone milestones; stories to tell once the pain - and enough time - has passed. Female bleeding is more mundane, more frequent, more getonwithit, despite its existence being the reason that every single life begins

I hope you nail the bastard.” So does he.

Stand up for what you believe in, even if it means standing alone.

Integrity is your own gauge of what is right for you. Integrity is not a stand-alone concept,

Riding Hard: A bad boy crime boss MC menage forbidden second chance romance standalone.

Passionate people are always ready to stand for their dreams even if no one stand with them. They vote and vote alone for their dreams but never loss their nomination for excellent leadership!

It’s dangerous to cherry-pick a few stand-alone verses, particularly when they are used as a weapon to silence and intimidate, effectively benching half the church5 in the midst of holy harvest season when the harvest is plentiful and the workers are few.

How do you hate someone who pulled you from the brink of death, not once, but twice?

The truth is rarely pure and never simple. -Oscar Wilde

My ex-husband is a stalker, and I’m his obsession.

And he was the kind of handsome that makes your toes curl under the sheets at night

Don't get me wrong I felt it, the hint of danger, but I was attracted by it. I had the naive idea that dangerous was interesting.

I can never allow the day I’ll see you leave me, so stay. Let me make this right.

No one can keep us apart, not even you.

That odd feeling had been suffocated. And all I could feel was gratitude. Dumb me.

then their eyes would widen and cheeks would burn as they thanked and thanked again my rich boyfriend.

I did something bad and mean and selfish.

You don’t know what's best for us, but I do. I won't let you ruin us.

I say smiling nastily like a sick-with-power-bitch-queen would do.

I counted every breath, I memorized every curve, I swear I did.

Sometimes the “them” strategy is just a narcotic to feed the beast in all of us.

Talk to me. Say something, anything," he pleaded quietly as if he was trying to tame a wild animal. "There's nothing to say." He looked up and lowered his eyebrows on his eyes. "Why did you kiss me?

How have you always felt?” he wondered. “Loved.” Her eyes opened and met his. “Wanted, happy, excited. A little sad.” He felt himself stiffen. “Why sad?” “Because it always feels like one lifetime with you just isn’t enough.

Great. Just fucking great. After I rode my bicycle back to my multi-million-dollar company, I was going to have to learn how to whittle.

I am not going to think about the things I am not going to think about.

Thank you, Co-Pilot Obvious.

no one takes the safety concerns of a woman seriously until she has been injured or dead.

stays still like a statue as if waiting for my signal, and I love him for that and the urge to enter in collateral-crashing with him makes me bold as I kiss him passionately

Can we love someone even if it means that we’ll only abuse them?

You are a vision, a goddess made flesh.

puts his mouth back to where it belongs

I can mold you, eyes closed using the way your body fits so perfectly against mine.

Most books on publishing deal with publishing by itself. Most books on marketing deal with marketing as a stand-alone project. I think this is the wrong approach. Self-publishing and book marketing have to be considered as an integrated project. That is what this book does; it treats publishing and marketing together as a unified project.

Sadly kitchens often fall into the decorative trap of defaulting to basics: plain white units, tiled splash-back behind the sink or hob and possibly a large jolly-coloured standalone fridge-freezer as the one note of individuality.

Who ever really knows that it is the first time the first time you meet? It's only the first time after there's a second time. Up until then, it's just an only.

Stand up to injustice, even if you stand alone

What's happening to me?" she whispers to the quilt. "I'm losing my mind." Though that implies that I had one to begin with.

Why do you fight me?" His voice is soft again, as textured as velvet. "Can't you see I'm doing everything I can to help you?" "Help yourself off the edge of a cliff," she growls.

She also cussed every time he pooped for the first year, so it came as no surprise when his first sentence was, “Shit, Momma.” Our sides hurt for days after that one.

Don’t be afraid of being alone; a lion does not rule the jungle with sheep at its side.

He gripped the back of her neck again in that purely dominating way that made her melt. “We’re finishing this when we get back.” His voice was a low, raspy growl.

And what was one slap which, in retrospect, did not even hurt that much? So I forgave him.

I’m not the scared naïve girl you knew. I’m not afraid of you anymore and if you come for me again, you’ll be very sorry.

So I made a moaning noise with the grimace that goes with it like I saw the women do in the porn movies he likes. It felt quite natural, like the adequate thing to do.

But not Malik, he looked like a man.

and still to this day, this vision makes me laugh with flattery and self-satisfaction.

Sun Tzu said, “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,

There are some people who come into our lives and take a little piece of our hearts when they go. So they’ll always have that love with them. But the heart is resilient and will eventually heal itself. Though the new heart isn’t the same as the old heart, and that’s why we never love two people the same way.” “I guess.

I remember something." "Yes?" "You told me once that you were going to break my heart." He rolls over to face her. "Yes," he says. "I may once have said something like that." "What happened?" His beautiful eyes are even more hypnotic up close. "You broke mine.

And my nipples harden as my toes curl at the sight of Oumar, Olympic multi-champion, Krav Maga God, my teacher, my mentor, my crush, my soon to be lover, crawling to my feet just to enjoy the sight of me.

I had never had a big opinion for myself. I had always thought I'd be a fuck up, that I'd be disappointed like always by life and people. But at this very moment, I knew it. I wasn't a good man, not well-adjusted. —Nolan

I grew terrified he would leave me, so afraid. I would have been used and left like a dirty tissue, I would have been worthless, emptied. I would be impure and what would my mother think after I already made each other meet?

I visited Anna’s grave to give her a piece of my mind for ever believing it was better for me to spend those years without her. Then I bent down and kissed the gravestone, making sure she knew I understood the decision she ultimately made.

It symbolises strength." Bastien snorts. "It certainly doesn't provide any.

Vol picks up the cup of tea in both hands and takes a long sip. Mm, grass-clippings. Her favourite.

Briar Rose awakens to grace us with her gentle presence once more." "Shut up," says Vol. "Your thorns are showing.

If I didn’t know better, I’d have even thought he had the ability to tame wild beast four-year-olds.

Coop knows that I would rather douche with battery acid than pick a restaurant, so he already knew to tell him that it would be fine.

Unlike a stand-alone decision or a goal, a strategy is a coherent set of analyses, concepts, policies, arguments, and actions that respond to a high-stakes challenge.

but the next second, I couldn't breathe at all. I go blank. Immobilized, cornered, pressed against the door and Malik’s marble-hard chest.

I did not feel I had the right or strength to resist him

But I’m aware in full force of his strength, how effortlessly he could hurt me so I’m already wary of this man.

If this guy ever had an unselfish thought, as my mama would say, it would die of loneliness.

loyalty doesn’t have a price. It has to be earned.

Sometimes a wolf has to stand alone to find out what he’s made of.

I was madder at myself than Elodie. I’d caused this. Why? Because I was impulsive, horny, selfish—and a goddamn panty snatcher, apparently.

Malik's eyes locked on me from the farthest corner of the room. He was in the middle of a sentence but he never finished it, leaving this girl’s jaw to fall to the ground as he approached me. Never breaking eye contact to let me know his intentions to come to me very, very clear.

I want you to wear this and always remember me, remember the time we’ve had together. Whether I can complement this someday with another ring, or whether it stands alone as a symbol of what never could be, this eternity band represents my eternal love and respect for you, Bianca.

They stare at her, not seeing the woman she is or the girl she was none too long ago, but a mere puzzle. An intractable puzzle - bemusing and a little frustrating, but capable of being solved nonetheless.

Gannon came from loud, passionate Italian stock that wasn’t afraid to smash a plate to make a statement. Paige, on the other hand, systematically choked down any temper and, with frosty efficiency, made him dance like a fucking puppet.

He could traverse any terrain on the planet, kill someone countless ways with his bare hands and can and had survived behind enemy lines with his team on more than one occasion. But the thought of Nora going out with someone else twisted him up

That's not cruel. This is. You come here in the middle of the night, expecting me to be awake, and ask—no, demand—me to give you things that belong to me as much as they belong to you. Never mind what it does to me. Never mind that each time I see you, I wonder if I'll ever hold you in my arms again, or be able to touch you without you cringing away like I'm a monster. I think it's fair to ask if there's an 'us,' my dear, because I suspect you're trying to use me just now. Tell me that's not cruel, and I'll let you go.

All right," she snaps at the computer. "I get it. I'm slowing down! Gods!" "Activating Generic Ocular Display Sequence. G.O.D.S." The front of her shuttle goes transparent and Vol experiences a nauseating wave of vertigo. "No, that's not what I meant! It's an expression! What the hell?" "Error. Request must be made in the form of a command." "Oh, f*** you." "Error. Command not recognised." "I'm not surprised," Vol mutters.

During our World History lesson that morning, Mr. Avenovich loaded up a stand-alone simulation so that our class could witness the discovery of King Tut’s tomb by archaeologists in Egypt in AD 1922. (The day before, we’d visited the same spot in 1334 BC and had seen Tutankhamen’s empire in all its glory.)

I opened the door of my mother's stand-alone wardrobe and let the smell of her wash over me. I loved having this one unspoiled part of her left just for me. I leaned forward, slipped my face in between the hanging silks and chiffons. Her scent was warm and possessive. If my idea of home had a smell, this would be it. Home. Mother. Oh God, please. My face crumpled, and my knees gave out. I pitched forward into her hanging clothes, grabbing at her blouses and dresses, smelling of gardenias and dusk. I fell to the closet floor, pulling some with me. I toppled amongst her shoes; stinging eyes squeezed shut, mouth frozen open in a silent "O." They were out there somewhere, their lifeless bodies, still and cold, and they would never be coming home again. I curled my legs inside the wardrobe and pulled the door closed, shutting myself away with her memory.

Take out the leader, and the rest of the pack panics.

Earth is full of connections so one has to recognize himself in between and should add more efforts when deciding to stand Alone

Lemme tell you a Titan truth. An hour ago, you were a virgin," he declared. "Yes, of course," I confirmed. In his possessive dream world. I loved being a part of that world.

Why didn’t you kiss me back when I kissed you then?” I want to be sure. “You seemed vulnerable and I didn’t want to take advantage,” he answers. I’m not about to let this chance slip by so I tell him, “You wouldn’t be taking advantage now.” He tilts his head upwards but stays still like a statue as if waiting for my signal, and I love him for that and the urge to enter in collateral-crashing with him makes me bold as I kiss him passionately.

If you’re married, agree on the budget with your spouse. This one sentence requires a stand-alone book to describe how, but the bottom line is this: if you aren’t working together, it is almost impossible to win. Once the budget is agreed on and is in writing, pinky-swear and spit-shake that you will never do anything with money that is not on that paper. The paper is the boss of the money, and you are the boss of what goes on the paper, but you have to stick to the budget, or it’s just an elaborate theory.

« Maman, pourquoi elle pleure ? » Ma mère avait reniflé, et comme je ne voyais pas son visage, j’avais cru qu’elle avait attrapé froid. « Parce que son petit garçon ne reviendra pas. » Elle s’était tournée pour me dire cela en caressant mes cheveux du bout des doigts. Elle avait toujours apprécié mes boucles. Aussi douces que le poil d’un lapin selon elle. Les stries aqueuses sur son maquillage m’avaient interpellé. « Et toi maman, pourquoi tu pleures ? » Un gros sanglot avait franchi les lèvres de ma mère. Elle ne m’avait pas répondu, néanmoins, j’avais saisi par moi-même. Ses yeux avaient semblé parler pour elle : « Parce que j’ai peur pour toi. »

Mettant le téléphone sur haut-parleur, je tentai de lui envoyer ma localisation géographique, avant d’abandonner et de lui décrire où j’étais, pas sûr à cent pour cent de ce que je racontais. Ce n’était que maintenant que je me rendais compte que je n’avais pas la moindre foutue idée du nom du quartier. — T’as pas mieux comme description ? Parce que, « une allée de lampadaires », ça n’aide pas. Je ricanai. Il exagérait. J’avais tout bien détaillé. J’avais même donné le nom du bar accroché à l’écriteau. Enfin, si j’avais bien lu. Je le taquinai : — Oh… Le traqueur ne l’est donc que de nom ? — T’es sûr de vouloir me provoquer ? — J’irai même jusqu’à pimenter le tout : si tu me retrouves en moins de trente minutes, je t’accorde un vœu. — Putain de génie.

Anastase passa son pouce sur ma lèvre inférieure ; ses traits virils, son regard pénétrant me brûlait. — Laisse-toi aller, Mikhaïl. Personne ne surveille tes faits et gestes. Personne ne dira rien ni ne te jugera. Sois toi-même, abaisse tes barrières. J’inspirai profondément et collai sa mèche de cheveux à mon nez, m’apaisant. — Vivre dans un fort n’est pas vivre, les plus belles sensations sont celles de pleine liberté. Tu peux toucher qui tu veux. Rire avec qui cela te plaît. Agir comme un enfant si c’est ce dont tu as envie. Je plissai le nez. — Non merci, je laisse ça à Matt et Jimmy, deux enfants, c’est bien assez à gérer. Nous sourîmes tous deux. Le brun me posa un baiser sur la joue, et peu de temps après, la porte s’ouvrit à nouveau. — Hey ! Moi aussi je veux des câlins !

From A Deadly Shade of Gold, a Travis McGee title: “The only thing in the world worth a damn is the strange, touching, pathetic, awesome nobility of the individual human spirit.” From the stand-alone thriller Where Is Janice Gantry?: “Somebody has to be tireless, or the fast-buck operators would asphalt the entire coast, fill every bay, and slay every living thing incapable of carrying a wallet.” These two angles show up everywhere in his novels: the need to—maybe reluctantly, possibly even grumpily—stand up and be counted on behalf of the weak, helpless, and downtrodden, which included people, animals, and what we now call the environment—which was in itself a very early and very prescient concern: Janice Gantry, for instance, predated Rachel Carson’s groundbreaking Silent Spring by a whole year. But the good knight’s armor was always tarnished and rusted. The fight was never easy and, one feels, never actually winnable. But it had to be waged. This strange, weary blend of nobility and cynicism is MacDonald’s signature emotion. Where did it come from? Not, presumably, the leafy block where he was raised in quiet and comfort. The war must have changed him, like it changed a generation and the world.

Tagore claims that the first time he experienced the thrill of poetry was when he encountered the children’s rhyme ‘Jal pare/pata nare’ (‘Rain falls / The leaf trembles) n Iswrchandra Vidyasagar’s Bengali primer Barna Parichay (Introducing the Alphabet). There are at least two revealing things about this citation. The first is that, as Bengali scholars have remarked, Tagore’s memory, and predilection, lead him to misquote and rewrite the lines. The actual rhyme is in sadhu bhasha, or ‘high’ Bengali: ‘Jal paritechhe / pata naritechhe’ (‘Rain falleth / the leaf trembleth’). This is precisely the sort of diction that Tagore chose for the English Gitanjali, which, with its these and thous, has so tried our patience. Yet, as a Bengali poet, Tagore’s instinct was to simplify, and to draw language closer to speech. The other reason the lines of the rhyme are noteworthy, especially with regard to Tagore, is – despite their deceptively logical progression – their non-consecutive character. ‘Rain falls’ and ‘the leaf trembles’ are two independent, stand-alone observations: they don’t necessarily have to follow each other. It’s a feature of poetry commented upon by William Empson in Some Versions of Pastoral: that it’s a genre that can get away with seamlessly joining two lines which are linked, otherwise, tenuously.