Inspirational quotes with grumbled.
I've got about ten things to say to you right now. But at least nine of them would make me sound like a psycho.”In spite of the seriousness of the situation, I nearly smiled. “What’s the tenth thing?” I asked his shirtfront. He paused, considering it. “Never mind,” he grumbled. “That one would make me sound like a psycho, too.
Will put his hand on Nico's shoulder. "Nico, we need o have another talk about your people skills.""Hey, I'm just stating the obvious. If this is Apollo, and he dies, we're all in trouble."Will turned to me. "I apologize for my boyfriend."Nico rolled his eyes. "Could you not―""Would you prefer special guy?" Will asked. "Or significant other?""Significant annoyance, in your case," Nico grumbled
To Garan's credit, the treatment of Dellian prisoners did change after that. One particularly laconic man, after a session in which Fire learned positively nothing, thanked her for it specifically. "Best dungeons I ever been in," he said, chewing on a toothpick."Wonderful," Garan grumbled when he had gone. "We'll grow a reputation for our kindness to lawbreakers.
You are beautiful, but you are empty. One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you --- the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars; because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or bloated, or even sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.
Michael scrambled around again and kissed James’s lips and cheeks in brief, silly pecks.“Breakfast?”“You offering or ordering?” James grumbled.“I’m offering to cook if you’re offering up the groceries. Do you have eggs?”“No, I have sperm. What the hell do they teach you in school these days?”Michael giggled. “Chicken eggs, wise ass. In your refrigerator.
Hope," Frank grumbled. "I'd rather have a few good weasels.
Yeah, that’s what Jeffrey said too. Oh, wait … Jeffrey said something about a Sacred Abil and the Trophy of Stavlini, or Stavriti, or Stav … something.”“Staviti?” The hysteria in Emmy’s voice was definitely becoming prominent now. “The Trophy of Staviti? You stole the Trophy of Staviti?”I clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to muffle her shriek. “No!” I answered reflexively. “Or yes. Kind of. Maybe. Why?”She gave a muffled answer, and I realised that I was still holding my hand over her mouth. I pulled away, allowing her to speak again.“You don’t know who Staviti is, Willa? Seriously? You couldn’t pay attention in class even for that much?”“I knew it sounded familiar,” I grumbled, feeling defensive. “Is it the god of … um … food or something?
But what he said was true enough: I had recently destroyed a perfectly good set of wire braces by straightening them to pick a lock. Father had grumbled, of course, but had made another appointment to have me netted and dragged back up to London, to that third-floor ironmonger's shop in Farringdon Street, where I would be strapped to a board like Boris Karloff as various bits of ironmongery were shoved into my mouth, screwed in, and bolted to my gums.
ask yourself how many people you have met who grumbled at a thing as incurable, and how many who attacked it as curable? How many people we have heard abuse the British elementary schools, as they would abuse the British climate? How few have we met who realized that British education can be altered, but British weather cannot?...For a thousand that regret compulsory education, where is the hundred, or the ten, or the one, who would repeal compulsory education? …At the beginning of our epoch men talked with equal ease about Reform and Repeal. Now everybody talks about reform; nobody talks about repeal.
Why would men want to do without women? We adore women.”“Because they serve you,” she grumbled.“No.Because they complement us. And I mean complement with an e,not an i. Women are our other halves. Men need women.
The woman laughed again. She was the loudest person in the cave. Eena wondered if perhaps she was talking to a female Ghengat. Curiosity got the best of her and she turned around to look, surprised to find neither a Ghengat nor a Harrowbethian woman, but a Mishmorat. A striking, cheetah-spotted Mishmorat with straight lengths of charcoal hair and the most alluring dark eyes in existence. This bronzed female was the same size as Eena but observably more muscular. She appeared to be a mix of cheetah, Arabian princess, and gladiator in tight-fitting pants. Eena paused, dropping the stone in her hands. “Kira?” she breathed.“Hmmm,” the woman grumbled. Her painted eyes scrunched with displeasure. The look was still stunning. “I see my reputation precedes me.” Eena gawked as if a legendary ghost had been resurrected. “You’re alive?
We are thankful to come here for rest, sir," said Jenny. "You see, you don't know what the rest of this place is to us; does he, Lizzie? It's the quiet, and the air.""The quiet!" repeated Fledgeby, with a contemptuous turn of his head towards the City's roar. "And the air!" with a "Poof!" at the smoke."Ah!" said Jenny. "But it's so high. And you see the clouds rushing on above the narrow streets, not minding them, and you see the golden arrows pointing at the mountains in the sky from which the wind comes, and you feel as if you were dead."The little creature looked above her, holding up her slight transparent hand."How do you feel when you are dead?" asked Fledgeby, much perplexed."Oh, so tranquil!" cried the little creature, smiling. "Oh, so peaceful and so thankful! And you hear the people who are alive, crying, and working, and calling to one another down in the close dark streets, and you seem to pity them so! And such a chain has fallen from you, and such a strange good sorrowful happiness comes upon you!"Her eyes fell on the old man, who, with his hands folded, quietly looked on."Why it was only just now," said the little creature, pointing at him, "that I fancied I saw him come out of his grave! He toiled out at that low door so bent and worn, and then he took his breath and stood upright, and looked all round him at the sky, and the wind blew upon him, and his life down in the dark was over!—Till he was called back to life," she added, looking round at Fledgeby with that lower look of sharpness. "Why did you call him back?""He was long enough coming, anyhow," grumbled Fledgeby."But you are not dead, you know," said Jenny Wren. "Get down to life!"Mr Fledgeby seemed to think it rather a good suggestion, and with a nod turned round. As Riah followed to attend him down the stairs, the little creature called out to the Jew in a silvery tone, "Don't be long gone. Come back, and be dead!" And still as they went down they heard the little sweet voice, more and more faintly, half calling and half singing, "Come back and be dead, Come back and be dead!
I hope so,” grumbled Ian. “I’m going to look for another one of ‘em winged dogs for Mabel.
In the morning, when he entered my room, I grumbled, but he was like the sunlight to me, all the same. One cannot defend oneself against those brats. They take hold of you, they hold you fast, they never let you go again. The truth is, that there never was a cupid like that child.
...But if you want to be a good mayor—there seem to be so very few of them—that must be the sort of thing you have to be destined for. And a wish that goes against your destiny...that's always a bad idea.. Only a fool scoffs at destiny.' "'I think only a fool relies on it,' Julian grumbled. 'How can destiny decide what I'm going to be before I do?
They are like fucking roaches," Darius grumbled."The more you kill,the more you find.
Muriah approached him with a new pair of khakis and a couple of T-shirts. “I guessed at the size so you might want to go try these on first.”He took the clothes and slid his arm around her waist, maneuvering her toward the fitting room.“Hey, I didn’t sign on to be your dresser.” She grumbled, but didn’t struggle.He pulled the door closed and turned to meet her eyes. “It’s light in here and full of people. Apep will not be able to surprise us, and his serpents cannot spy. We need to talk.”***He stripped off the wet shirt, exposing his chiseled torso. She did her best not to choke on her tongue. His tanned skin and taut muscles tempted her, luring her to touch him. Turning around to give him privacy seemed like the right thing to do, but there wasn’t a hint of modesty in this Mayan god, and if he could handle getting this personal, then she could, too.When he unzipped the wet pants, she held her breath. Would an ancient guy wear underwear? She was about to find out. He bent over to lower the wet slacks. When he straightened up, she realized he’d been talking, but she didn’t have a clue what he had said. Instead, all her attention was focused on a fine trail of dark hair leading from just below his navel and disappearing under the low-slung elastic band of his boxer briefs.“Muriah?”Her gaze snapped up to meet his. Thank the universe he couldn’t read her thoughts. “Yeah?”“Did you hear my question?”He stood two feet from her in only his underwear, and he thought she was listening? He was either completely unaware of his sex appeal, or he was way too accustomed to being obeyed.Probably both.She cleared her throat. “I must’ve missed it.”A spark lit his eyes that told her he might have more than a clue to his sex appeal.He picked up the T-shirt and pulled it on. “I asked if you knew of another hotel closer to the airport so we can get out of New York as soon as the sun sets tomorrow.”“I’m sure I can find one.” She pulled out her phone, grateful to have something to pretend to focus on besides him tucking his package into the new khakis she pulled off the rack for him.“I probably should’ve grabbed some dry underwear, too.”“They are nearly dry now. I will be fine.” He popped the tags off, and she glanced up from her hotel search. “They’re not going to like you taking the tags off before you pay.”The corner of his mouth curved up. “They will be honored to take my money.”She groaned and rolled her eyes. “Do you ever not get your way?”He stepped closer to her, his chest an inch from hers until her back pressed against the modular wall of the fitting room. “Rarely.” His dark gaze held hers, and the deep rumble of his voice sent heat through her body. “But some things are worth the extra effort.
A robin perched on the branch of the apple tree, his feathers ruffled, his red chest blazing.'No need to look so down in the mouth,' he chirruped. 'Things'll get worse before they get better.''I don't know what it is about that tree,' Geno grumbled, 'that makes everything that sits in it talk in proverbs.''It's easier than thinking,' the robin stated.
Never underestimate the audacity of the small minded and slightly crapulous.A rather bleezed young neighbour decided to have a grammar battle with me. It lasted all of two seconds.I said something slightly amicable, and he responded with, “You sure that's how you use that word?”I put down my laundry basket and turned to him slowly and deliberately.“Do you really want to have this discussion with me, son, or do you want to go home and rethink your life?”He grumbled and vanished.
Did you need Jordan for something, Cookie?" Gavin asked with thinly veiled impatience. Hands back in his pockets, he took a step away from Jordan. "Or do you merely excel at crappy timing?" "Sorry, Chief." Cookie's short purple-and-blue hair stuck out in a hundred different directions, and she winked when she peeked out from behind the swinging door.... "It's a gift." "That's not what I would call it," he grumbled.
THEY are afraid of nothing,' I grumbled, watching their approach through the window. 'Together, they would brave Satan and all his legions.
When my stomach grumbled, I filled up on hamburgers, hot dogs, gyros, tacos, jerk chicken, pizza, and a side salad because I was watching my figure
I hate phones," he grumbled into her neck. "Seriously, I wanna go back in time and murder Alexander Graham Bell." He sat up with a groan. "Or was it Edison who invented the phone? I can never remember." She had to laugh. "I'm pretty sure it was Bell.
When I got home, a spicy scent lured me into the kitchen. My stomach grumbled and I might’ve started drooling the moment I spotted the cheesy enchiladas cooling on the counter.They were drenched in homemade queso.My favorite.Dropping my bag on the floor, I skipped over to where Rosa was placing the plates on the table. I wrapped my arms around her from behind and squeezed.Rosa laughed as she turned. “It’s the queso, isn’t it?”Nodding, I dropped my arms and stepped back.
Mother Mary wants to draft two more kids,” Astrid told Sam.“Okay. Approved.”“Dahra says we’re running low on kids’ Tylenol and kids’ Advil, she wants to make sure it’s okay to start giving them split adult pills.”Sam spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “What?”“We’re running low on kid pills, Dahra wants to split adult pills.”Sam rocked back in the leather chair designed for a grown man. “Okay. Whatever. Approved.” He took a sip of water from a bottle. The wrapper on the bottle said “Dasani” but it was tap water. The dishes from dinner—horrible homemade split-pea soup that smelled burned, and a quarter cabbage each—had been pushed aside onto the sideboard where in the old days the mayor of Perdido Beach had kept framed pictures of his family. It was one of the better meals Sam had had lately. The fresh cabbage tasted surprisingly good.There was little more than smears on the plates: the era of kids not eating everything was over.Astrid puffed out her cheeks and sighed. “Kids are asking why Lana isn’t around when they need her.”“I can only ask Lana to heal big things. I can’t demand she be around 24/7 to handle every boo-boo.”Astrid looked at the list she had compiled on her laptop. “Actually, I think this involved a stubbed toe that ‘hurted.’”“How much more is on the list?” Sam asked.“Three hundred and five items,” Astrid said. When Sam’s face went pale, she relented. “Okay, it’s actually just thirty-two. Now, don’t you feel relieved it’s not really three hundred?”“This is crazy,” Sam said.“Next up: the Judsons and the McHanrahans are fighting because they share a dog, so both families are feeding her—they still have a big bag of dry dog food—but the Judsons are calling her Sweetie and the McHanrahans are calling her BooBoo.”“You’re kidding.”“I’m not kidding,” Astrid said.“What is that noise?” Sam demanded.Astrid shrugged. “I guess someone has their stereo cranked up.”“This is not going to work, Astrid.”“The music?”“This. This thing where every day I have a hundred stupid questions I have to decide. Like I’m everyone’s parent now. I’m sitting here listening to how little kids are complaining because their older sisters make them take a bath, and stepping into fights over who owns which Build-A-Bear outfit, and now over dog names. Dog names?”“They’re all still just little kids,” Astrid said.“Some of these kids are developing powers that scare me,” Sam grumbled. “But they can’t decide who gets to have which special towel? Or whether to watch The Little Mermaid or Shrek Three?”“No,” Astrid said. “They can’t. They need a parent. That’s you.
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