Tendai Kid Ear Eye Arm Quotes

#1. My father strode up and cleared his throat. "Oh, hello, Mr. Martin," Seth said.

"Hello," my father said. They shook hands.

"Charlotte, your mom and I want to discuss something with you, but I don't think it's a good time now. I think you need some rest."

"Oh Jesus, what now?" I said.

"Charlotte!" my mother scolded.

"I'm drunk, you guys. It's not a big deal." Seth anchored me to his side by wrapping an arm around my waist.

My mother stuck her hand out to Seth. "Hello, Seth, I'm Charlotte's mom, Laura." She blushed.

"Oh, Motherrr, are you blushing? He's just a professional baseball plaaayer with twelve-pack abs and perfect hair, get over it!"

"Let's go, drunky." Seth pulled me along.

"Hey, Taylor," my father said, calling Seth by his last name. We turned back to see my dad point to his own eyes and then to Seth's. I'm watching you, he mouthed, and then he buckled over and started laughing.

"Your family is totally weird," Seth said into my ear. "I see where you get your sense of humor."

"Yep, they're all right. By the way, it's your fault I'm drunk."

I caught Helen's eye as we left the bar. Seth waved, she smiled, and Roddy laughed.

"I think you had a little too much before I got involved."

"I told you that. Hey, wanna go skinny-dipping?"

"I'm getting you a sandwich and then I'm putting you to bed," he said.

#Quote by Renee Carlino

#2. If the Lord be with us, we have no cause of fear. His eye is upon us, His arm over us, His ear open to our prayer - His grace sufficient, His promise unchangeable. #Quote by John Newton

#3. He didn't need to get up and look in the ornate, gilt-edged mirror over the massive fireplace to know that calamitous was the accurate word for his face. His right eye drooped, and the right half of his face was a gnarled mess of scar tissue. He was missing a small chunk of his nose on the right side, and he wore his hair shaggy to conceal the scar where his right ear used to be. But no amount of hairstyling could conceal the fact that his right arm was missing below the elbow. And his right leg, also injured in the blast, would always cause him to walk with a slight limp. Once a handsome young man, he was now a monster. A beast. #Quote by Katy Regnery

#4. Tell you what, I'll take the first watch, and if nothing happens, we'll both sleep. Agreed?"
I frowned at him. He started playing with my fingers and turned my hand over so he could trace the lines of my palm. Firelight flickered across his handsome features. My eyes drifted to his lips.
"Kelsey?" He made eye contact, and I quickly looked away.
I wasn't used to dealing with him when camping like this. I usually got to make all my own decisions, and he just followed me around. Er, or I guess I followed him most places. But, at least when he was a tiger he didn't argue back. Or distract me with thoughts of being wrapped in his arms kissing him.
He smiled an amazingly white smile and stroked the inside of my arm. "Your skin here is so soft."
He leaned over to nuzzle my ear. My blood started pounding thickly and fogged my brain. "Kells, tell me you agree with my plan."
I shook myself free from the spellbinding fog and set my jaw stubbornly. "Fine, you win. I agree," I mumbled. "Even though you are coercing me."
He laughed and moved to look at me. "And how exactly am I coercing you?"
"Well, first of all, you can't expect me to have coherent thoughts when you're touching me. Second, you always know how to get your way with me."
"Is that right?"
"Sure. All you have to do is bat your eyes, or in your case smile and ask nicely, throw in a distracting touch, and then, before I know it, you get whatever it is you want."
"Really?" h #Quote by Colleen Houck

#5. There is an Eye that never sleeps, Beneath the wind of night. There is an ear that never shuts, When sinks the beams of light. There is an Arm that never tires, When human strength gives way. There is a Love that never fails, When earthly loves decay. #Quote by George Matheson

#6. Cade eyes traveled over her when she answered the door, coming to rest on her shoes. "Are those the ones from Monday night?"

"They are."

He stepped inside her apartment and kicked the door shut.

Well, then.

"I have good memories of those shoes." With a warm gleam in his eye, he reached up and cupped the nape of her neck, leaning in to kiss her.

Hmm. She might have to wear these shoes all the time around Cade, if they put him in this good of a moo -

He jerked back, cursing under his breath.

Brooke blinked in surprise, still feeling the warm press of his lips on hers. "Um . . . what just happened?"

He winced, rotating his arm gingerly. "I reached around to grab your ass."

"And . . . it electrocuted you?"

He chucked her under the chin. "No, sassy. My shoulder's a little sore after playing football today."

That was news to her. "I didn't know you still played football."

"I don't. I was helping out someone else and got caught up in the moment. #Quote by Julie James

#7. Foe every beauty there is an eye somewhere to see it. For every truth there is an ear somewhere to hear it.For every love there is a heart somewhere to recieve it. #Quote by Ivan Panin

#8. Eye , gazelle, delicate wanderer, Drinker of horizon's fluid line; Ear that suspends on a chord The spirit drinking timelessness; Touch, love, all senses ... #Quote by Stephen Spender

#9. Love loves to love love. Nurse loves the new chemist. Constable 14A loves Mary Kelly. Gerty MacDowell loves the boy that has the bicycle. M. B. loves a fair gentlema. Li Chi Han lovey up kissy Cha Pu Chow. Jumbo, the elephant, loves Alice, the elephant. Old Mr Verschole with the ear trumpet loves old Mrs VErschoyle with the turnedin eye. The man in the brown macintosh loves a lady who is dead. His Majesty the King loves Her Majesty the Queen. Mrs Norman W. Tupper loves officer Taylor. You love a certain person. And this person loves that other person because everybody loves somebody but God loves everybody. #Quote by James Joyce

#10. It's so weird that it's Christmas Eve," I said, clinking my glass to his. It was the first time I'd spent the occasion apart from my parents.
"I know," he said. "I was just thinking that." We both dug into our steaks. I wished I'd made myself two. The meat was tender and flavorful, and perfectly medium-rare. I felt like Mia Farrow in Rosemary's Baby, when she barely seared a steak in the middle of the afternoon and devoured it like a wolf. Except I didn't have a pixie cut. And I wasn't harboring Satan's spawn.
"Hey," I began, looking into his eyes. "I'm sorry I've been so…so pathetic since, like, the day we got married."
He smiled and took a swig of Dr Pepper. "You haven't been pathetic," he said. He was a terrible liar.
"I haven't?" I asked, incredulous, savoring the scrumptious red meat.
"No," he answered, taking another bite of steak and looking me squarely in the eye. "You haven't."
I was feeling argumentative. "Have you forgotten about my inner ear disturbance, which caused me to vomit all across Australia?"
He paused, then countered, "Have you forgotten about the car I rented us?"
I laughed, then struck back. "Have you forgotten about the poisonous lobster I ordered us?"
Then he pulled out all the stops. "Have you forgotten all the money we lost?"
I refused to be thwarted.
"Have you forgotten that I found out I was pregnant after we got back from our honeymoon and I called my parents to tell them and I didn't get a #Quote by Ree Drummond

#11. FAUSTUS. Ah, Faustus,
Now hast thou but one bare hour to live,
And then thou must be damn'd perpetually!
Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of heaven,
That time may cease, and midnight never come;
Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again, and make
Perpetual day; or let this hour be but
A year, a month, a week, a natural day,
That Faustus may repent and save his soul!
O lente,172 lente currite, noctis equi!
The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike,
The devil will come, and Faustus must be damn'd.
O, I'll leap up to my God! - Who pulls me down? -
See, see, where Christ's blood streams in the firmament!
One drop would save my soul, half a drop: ah, my Christ! -
Ah, rend not my heart for naming of my Christ!
Yet will I call on him: O, spare me, Lucifer! -
Where is it now? 'tis gone: and see, where God
Stretcheth out his arm, and bends his ireful brows!
Mountains and hills, come, come, and fall on me,
And hide me from the heavy wrath of God!
No, no!
Then will I headlong run into the earth:
Earth, gape! O, no, it will not harbour me!
You stars that reign'd at my nativity,
Whose influence hath allotted death and hell,
Now draw up Faustus, like a foggy mist.
Into the entrails of yon labouring cloud[s],
That, when you173 vomit forth into the air,
My limbs may issue from your smoky mouths,
So th #Quote by Christopher Marlowe

#12. After one moment of gripped immobility, the queen bent to kiss the king lightly on one closed eyelid, then on the other. She said, 'I love your eyes.' She kissed him on either cheek, near the small lobe of his ear. 'I love your ears, and I love'-she paused as she kissed him gently on the lips-'every single one of your ridiculous lies.' The king opened his eyes and smiled at the queen in a companionship that was as unassailable as it was unfathomable. #Quote by Megan Whalen Turner

#13. One sign of a writer's potential is his especially sharp ear - and eye - for language. #Quote by John Gardner

#14. A sweet attractive kind of grace, A full assurance given by looks, Continual comfort in a face, The lineaments of Gospel books; I trow that countenance cannot lie, Where thoughts are legible in the eye. Was never eye, did see that face, Was never ear, did hear that tongue, Was never mind, did mind his grace, That ever thought the travel long- But eyes, and ears, and ev'ry thought, Were with his sweet perfections caught. [trow; believe or think] #Quote by Mathew Roydon

#15. The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was. #Quote by William Shakespeare

#16. I'm so sorry, Henri," I whisper in his ear. I close my eyes. "I love you. I wouldn't have missed a second of it, either. Not for anything," I whisper. "I'm going to take you back yet. Somehow I am going to get you back to Lorien. We always joked about it but you were my father, the best father I could have ever asked for. I'll never forget you, not for a minute for as long as I live. I love you, Henri. I always did. #Quote by Pittacus Lore

#17. His voice dropped to a low murmur, and he leaned down so that he was almost whispering in her ear. "You see, there's this woman."
She wasn't going to look at him. She wasn't.
"Normally, one might say that there was a beautiful woman - but I don't think she qualifies as a classical beauty. Still, I find that when she's around, I'd rather look at her than anyone else."
He set two fingers against her cheek, and Minnie sucked in a breath. She was not going to look at him. He'd see the longing in her eyes, and then ...
"There's something about her that draws my eye. Something that defies words. Maybe it's her hair, but I tried to tell her that, and she told me I was being ridiculous. I suppose I was. Maybe it's her lips. Maybe it's her eyes, although she so rarely looks at me. #Quote by Courtney Milan

#18. For these beings, fall is ever the normal season, the only weather, there be no choice beyond. Where do they come from? The dust. Where do they go? The grave. Does blood stir their veins? No: the night wind. What ticks in their head? The worm. What speaks from their mouth? The toad. What sees from their eye? The snake. What hears with their ear? The abyss between the stars. They sift the human storm for souls, eat flesh of reason, fill tombs with sinners. They frenzy forth ... Such are the autumn people. #Quote by Ray Bradbury

#19. To the uneducated eye, as to the incurious mind, much of the world is in darkness, and a thousand songs are lost on the unlistening ear. #Quote by Margaret Millar

#20. Not every man with a heart is understanding, nor every man with an ear a listener, and nor every man with eyes able to see. #Quote by Ali Ibn Abi Talib

#21. And the bubbles of light again rose and fell, and in their disordered, irregular, turbulent maze, mingled with the wan moonlight. And now from these globules themselves as from the shell of an egg, monstrous things burst out; the air grew filled with them; larvae so bloodless and so hideous that I can in no way describe them except to remind the reader of the swarming life which the solar microscope brings before his eyes in a drop of water - things transparent, supple, agile, chasing each other, devouring each other - forms like nought ever beheld by the naked eye. As the shapes were without symmetry, so their movements were without order. In their very vagrancies there was no sport; they came round me and round, thicker and faster and swifter, swarming over my head, crawling over my right arm, which was outstretched in involuntary command against all evil beings. ("The House And The Brain") #Quote by Edward Bulwer-Lytton

#22. Walking soothes. There is a healing power in walking. The regular placement of one foot in front of the other while at the same time rowing rhythmically with the arms, the rising rate of respiration, the slight stimulation of the pulse, the actions required of eye and ear for determining direction and maintaining balance, the feeling of the passing air brushing against the skin -- all these are events that mass about the body and mind in a quite irresistible fashion and allow the soul, be it ever so atrophied and bruised, to grow and expand. #Quote by Patrick Suskind

#23. Night shift. Jamey raises his arm, and a hundred arms are raised. He smiles, with thousands of teeth. Jamey thinks of Narcissus bending to the pool. He thinks of how a swan on a calm lake is one with its reflection, and then lifting off, the bird divides from its self, and both parts becomes smaller and smaller. Division is more interesting than duplication, and an ax is a fascinating tool. It makes a fallen tree into wood that will keep your family warm. It does more than separate a whole into pieces; it changes the spirit of the thing, its use. He thinks about Elise checking her compact, and how he looks over her shoulder to catch her outlined eye in the mirror. Her eye, separated from the rest of her, floating. Normally he doesn't let his mind split into pieces, because it frightens him, but he's in a container here. He has so much time to think on the night shift. #Quote by Jardine Libaire

#24. Eric Steele utilized the Mark XI's voice command function by saying, "Nav," and a map appeared in the upper-right quadrant
of the visor. The yellow blinking arrow told him that he needed to come left, so he lowered his shoulder and banked gently
until he was locked on the correct glide path.


This thing is legit.

Steele had grown up on James Bond and thought being a spy was all about the gadgets. But in the real world batteries failed
and an operator lived and died by making a plan and sticking to it. One of the main reasons Steele was still alive while so
many of his friends were dead was because he didn't leave anything to chance.


He carefully brought his left arm up to eye level and double-checked the Mark XI's readings with the GPS/altimeter combo strapped
to his forearm. Once he was sure that he knew exactly where he was, he snapped his arms tight and accelerated to 200 miles
per hour. #Quote by Sean Parnell

#25. if someone would wish to see a city or a country, he would certainly go to that place for the sight; in the same way, one wishing to comprehend the mind of the theologians must first wash and cleanse his soul by his manner of life, and approach the saints themselves by the imitation of their works, so that being with them in the conduct of a common life, he may understand also the things revealed to them, and thenceforth, as joined to them, may escape the peril of the sinners and their fire on the day of judgment, but may receive what has been laid up for the saints in the kingdom of heaven, "which eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have they entered into the heart of man" (1 Cor 2.9), #Quote by Athanasius Of Alexandria

#26. Poetry expands the senses and keeps them in prime condition. It keeps you aware of your nose, your eye, your ear, your tongue, your hand. #Quote by Ray Bradbury

#27. Why in the case of the ear, is there withdrawal and turning inward, a making resonant, but in the case of the eye, there is manifestation and display, a making evident? #Quote by Jean-Luc Nancy

#28. You mostly." Her hands went still again as her eyes stared off into the past with a look so wistful it made me ache for her. "The boys tended to take care of each other but you were too much for anyone else to handle."
I poked at the ball of yarn avoiding her eyes. "I wasn't that bad."
She smiled. "You broke Ethan's arm."
"It was self-defense. He wouldn't let go of my foot."
"He was helping you tie your shoe. #Quote by Rachel Vincent

#29. Read poetry every day of your life. Poetry is good because it flexes muscles you don't use often enough. Poetry expands the senses and keeps them in prime condition. It keeps you aware of your nose, your eye, your ear, your tongue, your hand.
And, above all, poetry is compacted metaphor or simile. Such metaphors, like Japanese paper flowers, may expand outward into gigantic shapes. Ideas lie everywhere through the poetry books, yet how rarely have I heard short story teachers recommending them for browsing.
What poetry? Any poetry that makes your hair stand up along your arms. Don't force yourself too hard. Take it easy. Over the years you may catch up to, move even with, and pass T. S. Eliot on your way to other pastures. You say you don't understand Dylan Thomas? Yes, but your ganglion does, and your secret wits, and all your unborn children. Read him, as you can read a horse with your eyes, set free and charging over an endless green meadow on a windy day. #Quote by Ray Bradbury

#30. Let's make my birthday, July the 7th at noon, Peace and Love Day. Everybody go, 'Peace and love.' In the office, on the bus, wherever. It's still peace and love for me, I'm a product of the 60s and it was a very influential period in my life, and you know, my head was turned around a bit, my eyes were opened as it were. In fact, I even have it on my arm, 'Peace and love'. I see nothing wrong with peace and love. #Quote by Ringo Starr

#31. That difference, that indefinable difference between talent and genius. It is as fine as hair, invisible to the eye and even, most of the time, to the ear. But in her face when she looks at her brother, I see that it may as well be a huge uncrossable chasm. #Quote by Anna Smaill

#32. You have until midnight."
The silence swallowed them all again. Every head turned, every eye in the place seemed to have found Harry, to hold him frozen in the glare of thousands of invisible beams. Then a figure rose from the Slytherin table and he recognized Pansy Parkinson as she raised a shaking arm and screamed, "But he's there! Potter's there! Someone grab him!"
Before Harry could speak, there was a massive movement. The Gryffindors in front of him had risen and stood facing, not Harry, but the Slytherins. Then the Hufflepuffs stood, and almost at the same moment, the Ravenclaws, all of them with their backs to Harry, all of them looking toward Pansy instead, and Harry, awestruck and overwhelmed, saw wands emerging everywhere, pulled from beneath cloaks and from under sleeves. #Quote by J.K. Rowling

#33. How came the bodies of animals to be contrived with so much art, and for what ends were their several parts?
Was the eye contrived without skill in Opticks, and the ear without knowledge of sounds? ... and these things being rightly dispatch'd, does it not appear from phaenomena that there is a Being incorporeal, living, intelligent ... ? #Quote by Isaac Newton

#34. All I need is
backup. He's the little angel that sits on my shoulder whispering in my ear,
"You can do it!" It's funny. I'm thirty years old now and I still feel like a little
girl. I'm still looking around to check and see what other people are doing
to make sure I'm not completely different; I'm still looking around for help,
hoping for a quick nudge and a whisper of advice. But I can't seem to be able
to catch anybody's eye. Nobody else around me seems to be looking around
and wondering what to do. Why is it that I feel like I'm the only person who
is confused and concerned about the choices I've made and where I'm
headed? Everywhere I look, I see people just getting on with it. Maybe I
should just follow suit and get on with it. #Quote by Cecelia Ahern

#35. Leaving Forever

My son can look me level in the eyes now,
and does, hard, when I tell him he cannot watch
chainsaw murders at the midnight movie,
that he must bend his mind to Biology,
under this roof, in the clear light of a Tensor lamp.
Outside, his friends throb with horsepower
under the moon.

He stands close, milk sour
on his breath, gauging the heat of my conviction,
eye-whites pink from his new contacts.
He can see me better than before. And I can see
myself in those insolent eyes, mostly head
in the pupil's curve, closed in by the contours
of his unwrinkled flesh.

At the window he waves
a thin arm and his buddies squall away in a glare
of tail lights. I reach out my arm to his shoulder,
but he shrugs free and shows me my father's narrow eyes,
the trembling hand at my throat, the hard wall
at the back of my skull, the raised fist framed
in the bedroom window I had climbed through
at three A.M.

"If you hit me I'll leave forever,"
I said. But everything was fine in a few days, fine.
"I would have come back," I said, "false teeth and all."
Now, twice a year after the long drive, in the yellow light
of the front porch, I breathe in my father's whiskey,
ask for a shot, and see myself distorted in
his thick glasses, the two of us grinning,
as he holds me with both hands at arm's length. #Quote by Ron Smith

#36. Fathers and mothers, do not forget that children learn more by the eye than they do by the ear ... Imitation is a far stronger principle with children than memory. What they see has a much stronger effect on their minds than what they are told. #Quote by J.C. Ryle

#37. I'd like to be a nest if you were a little bird.
I'd like to be a scarf if you were a neck and were cold.
If you were music, I'd be an ear.
If you were water, I'd be a glass.
If you were light, I'd be an eye.
If you were a foot, I'd be a sock.
If you were the sea, I'd be a beach.
And if you were still the sea, I'd be a fish,
and I'd swim in you.
And if you were the sea, I'd be salt.
And if I were salt, you'd be lettuce,
an avocado or at least a fried egg.
And if you were a fried egg,
I'd be a piece of bread.
And if I were a piece of bread,
you'd be butter or jam.
If you were jam,
I'd be the peach in the jam.
If I were a peach,
you'd be a tree.
And if you were a tree,
I'd be your sap…
and I'd course through your arms like blood.
And if I were blood,
I'd live in your heart. #Quote by Claudio Bertoni

#38. Those who have the power of reproaching in silence may find it a means more effective than words. There are accents in the eye which are not on the tongue, and more tales come from pale lips than can enter an ear. #Quote by Thomas Hardy

#39. If you are writing without zest, without gusto, without love, without fun, you are only half a writer. It means you are so busy keeping one eye on the commercial market, or one ear peeled for the avant-garde coterie, that you are not being yourself. You don't even know yourself. For the first thing a writer should be is
excited. He should be a thing of fevers and enthusiasms. #Quote by Ray Bradbury

#40. There is no music in a rest, but there is the making of music in it. In our whole life-melody the music is broken off here and there by "rests," and we foolishly think we have come to the end of the tune. God sends a time of forced leisure, sickness, disappointed plans, frustrated efforts, and makes a sudden pause in the choral hymn of our lives, and we lament that our voices must be silent, and our part missing in the music which ever goes up to the ear of the Creator.

How does the musician read the rest? See him beat the time with unvarying count, and catch up the next note true and steady, as if no breaking place had come between.

Not without design does God write the music of our lives. But be it ours to learn the tune, and not be dismayed at the "rests."

They are not to be slurred over nor to be omitted, nor to destroy the melody, nor to change the keynote. If we look up, God Himself will beat the time for us. With the eye on Him, we shall strike the next note full and clear. #Quote by John Ruskin