Forehead Quotes - page 7
As the queen raged at him, he responded, first calmly, then with his own heat. "Is there no one that you will see punished?" the queen shouted. "Are you fond of Teleus now that you preserve his life at all costs?"
"I only asked you to reconsider."
"There is nothing to reconsider!"
"You know why I need him."
"Not anymore," the queen declared with finality.
The king ignored the finality. "Now more than ever," he insisted.
"He has failed-"
"That was not entirely his fault!"
"Then you will unmake my decisions?" Attolia dared him to try.
"You said that I could," Eugenides flatly replied.
Pushed too far, the queen lashed out. The king made no effort to avoid the blow. His head snapped around and his forehead struck the doorjamb. He staggered and caught himself. By the time he opened his eyes, she was at the door and then she was gone.
Megan Whalen Turner
I walk up the stairs to my fourth-floor apartment, all alone. I let myself into my tiny little studio, all alone. I shut the door behind me. Another early bedtime in Rome. Another long night's sleep ahead of me, with nobody and nothing in my bed except a pile of Italian phrase books and dictionaries.
I am alone, I am all alone, I am completely alone.
Grasping this reality, I let go of my bag, drop to my knees, and press my forehead against the floor. There I offer up to the universe a fervent prayer of thanks.
First in English.
Then in Italian.
And then - just to get the point across - in Sanskrit.
And since I am already down there in supplication on the floor, let me hold that position as I reach back in time three years earlier to the moment where this entire story began - a moment that also found me in this exact same posture: on my knees, on a floor, praying.
Elizabeth Gilbert
[Hitler] is formless, almost faceless, a man whose countenance is a caricature, a man whose framework seems cartilaginous, without bones. He is inconsequent and voluble, ill-poised, insecure. He is the very prototype of the Little Man. A lock of lank hair falls over an insignificant and slightly retreating forehead. The back head is shallow. The face is broad in the check-bones. The nose is large, but badly shaped and without character. His movements are awkward, almost undignified and most un-martial. There is in his face no trace of any inner conflict or self-discipline.
Dorothy Thompson
I wake up feeling invincible. I don't check the time because I don't want anything to shatter my survivor spirit. In my head, I'm already in another day. I have beat Death-Cast's prediction, the first person in history to do so. I put my glasses back on, kiss Rufus' forehead, and watch him resting. Nervous, I reach for his heart, and I'm relieved it is still beating: he's invincible too. I climb over Rufus and I bet he would kill me himself if he caught me leaving our safe island, but I want to introduce him to Dad. I leave the room and go to the kitchen to prepare tea for us. I set the pot over the stove's burner and check the cabinets for tea selections and decide on peppermint. When I switch on the burner, my chest sinks with regret. Even when you know death is coming, the blaze of it all is still sudden.
Adam Silvera
Yes,” he said. "You see, I, too, have been seeing a lot of things, now that I've been spending so much time at the hospital.” He took a deep breath. "One night I got up and went down the hallway to see this woman who was crying. She was an elderly woman and the doctors didn't know what to do for her. She was dying. I held her hand and stroked her forehead like she was a child. She immediately calmed down and was able to pass over in her sleep so peacefully. "The night nurse was furious, and the next morning she told the doctors what I'd done. They, too, became upset, telling me I didn't have the authority to visit other patients. That poor nurse and the doctors, they just weren't prepared to accept the simple truth that they aren't in control. No one is in control, Mundo. We're all just God's guests for a short time.” I don't know why, but I now asked, "Joseph, are you dying?” He looked at me straight in the eyes. "Yes, Mundo,” he said, "I'm dying.
Victor Villaseñor
