“Things used to be easy. Flip a switch? On goes the light. Press a button? You’re calling your parents. Swipe a credit card? You just paid for lunch. Easy, simple, convenient. Nothing is like that anymore”
―
Summer Lane,
State of Chaos
“There isn’t a Zen zone on this side of the planet that could calm me down.” ― Summer Lane, State of Chaos
“She’s got the kind of exotic beauty I always dreamed about. But really, who cares about stuff like that anymore? Being pretty isn’t going to keep my butt out of Omega’s crosshairs.” ― Summer Lane, State of Chaos
“I last visited White Hart Lane in early February 2016, and as I took my seat, after a few pints in the (TV-less) concourse, in the upper tier of the South-West corner I couldn’t help but notice the tumbleweed rolling around the ground. The stony silence from areas of the ground where I would normally expect the home fans to be sitting was deafening, and the whole ground was reminiscent of a ghost town. Whenever the magnificent Watford support ceased singing for a brief second or two I could hear the hollow, dry wind, and I found the desolate, dry and humourless atmosphere all rather eerie. But here’s the weird thing. If I squinted my eyes it almost appeared as if 36,000 people were sitting in seats around the ground, and the only conclusion I could draw was that it just one guy and that it was all done with mirrors.” ― Karl Wiggins, Gunpowder Soup
“I'm so ready that a flash flood warning just went into effect," Sadie says softly.” ― Lane Hart, Jude
“Deaner ran down to the barrier separating the crowd from the pitch, and eventually persuaded the stewards that he had a part to play in the unfolding drama. (Anyone who has ever attempted to talk to a steward at a Premiership football ground will recognize that, whatever else during the afternoon required divine intervention, Deaner’s success in getting on to the White Hart Lane turf really was a miracle.)” ― Nick Hornby, Pray: Notes on the 2011/2012 Football Season
“On my hands and knees I watch the headboard creep closer to my face, knowing I'll probably ram into it soon. Not that it would slow Woody Woodpecker back there down.” ― Lane Hart, Jax
“To haste as a cause of confusion must be added distraction. Normally, except for those who work in the early hours of the morning, or who live up a long country lane, it is almost impossible to avoid being disturbed by incidental noises of traffic, industry, schools, and the wireless, or by the telephone, or by callers. Few people can immediately switch their minds from one complicated subject to another, and presently switch back again, without losing something in the process. Most business men and journalists claim that they are accustomed to noise and can ‘work through anything’. But this does not mean that they are not affected by noise: part of the brain must be employed in sorting out the noises and discounting them. The intense concentration achieved when one writes in complete silence, security and leisure, with the mental senses cognizant of every possible aspect of the theme as it develops—this was always rare and is now rarer than ever. Modern conditions of living encourage habitual distraction and, though there are still opportunities for comparative quiet, most people feel that they are not really alive unless they are in close touch with their fellow men—and close touch involves constant disturbance. Hart Crane, a leading American poet of the Nineteen-Twenties, decided that he could not write his best except with a radio or victrola playing jazz at him and street-noises coming up through the open window. He considered that distraction was the chief principle of modern living; he cultivated it, distractedly, and committed suicide in his early thirties.” ― Robert Graves, The Reader Over Your Shoulder: A Handbook for Writers of English Prose
“through my lower belly and made my skin feel like it was overheating. I’m not entirely sure what it was, but I do know that I want more of it again and soon.” ― Lane Hart, Cain
“We'll fight,' I interrupt. 'And if we die, that's how it ends. Fighting. With purpose.” ― Summer Lane, State of Hope
“At last, somebody in line steps forward. “I can commit,” he says. He’s a tall, lean young man with a rifle slung over his back.“What’s your name?” Chris asks. “Andrew,” he replies. “And I’m in.”Chris nods. A few other guys step forward and, after a few moments, the entire crowd of ex-POWs takes one step, signifying their decision. My chest swells with pride – pride for Chris’s leadership, pride for the people willing to give their lives to take down Omega. It’s a rush.” ― Summer Lane, State of Chaos
“I am not the girl I once was, and that is okay. I am a new woman, because this is a new world, and I will do what I must for the people I love...Nothing is perfect, but we have a chance now. We have hope, and that is all I ever asked for.” ― Summer Lane, State of Hope
“Jasper would have been completely hidden if it weren't for Highway 17, the crumbling two-lane road that traced the coastline, splitting cypress swamps and tidal creeks edging right up to the 350,000-acre ACE Basin, where three rivers converged to form the largest, wildest estuarine preserve on the East Coast. Jasper bordered the northeast side of the basin where dolphins, gators, minks, otters, and every manner of waterfowl and shore bird prospered from the daily six-foot inflow and outflow of saltwater, freshwater, and brackish water that rose and fell on cue like the sun itself.” ― Beth Webb Hart, The Wedding Machine
“I love you, Penelope Lane Hart. You’re my That Girl.” ― Kim Jones, Weight Loss Box Set: Delicious Recipes and Exercises To Reduce Your Weight Easily
“Months later… I try my best to enjoy summer vacation, knowing that in a few weeks I’ll be heading into the last semester of my senior year. I should’ve graduated in June, but because Robbie and I moved around during my freshman year, I fell behind a semester. Even though I won’t graduate and walk across the stage until December, my eighteenth birthday is only a few weeks away. That’s when I’ll be forced to leave the house. After the fallout with Cain back in January, I haven’t heard from him other than the few times he came by with gifts and tried to see me.” ― Lane Hart, Cain
“Voyages IIIInfinite consanguinity it bears This tendered theme of you that light Retrieves from sea plains where the sky Resigns a breast that every wave enthrones; While ribboned water lanes I wind Are laved and scattered with no stroke Wide from your side, whereto this hour The sea lifts, also, reliquary hands. And so, admitted through black swollen gates That must arrest all distance otherwise, Past whirling pillars and lithe pediments, Light wrestling there incessantly with light, Star kissing star through wave on wave unto Your body rocking! and where death, if shed, Presumes no carnage, but this single change,- Upon the steep floor flung from dawn to dawn The silken skilled transmemberment of song; Permit me voyage, love, into your hands . .” ― Hart Crane
“I can take you,” I reply. “But if you try anything, I’ll shoot you right between the eyes. Seriously.” He almost smiles.“Yes, ma’am.” ― Summer Lane, State of Emergency
“Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” Oh. My. God. Is this were a book, that would be the most highlighted line in it. “I love you, Penelope Lane Hart. You’re my That Girl.” ― Kim Jones, That Guy
“I'm not scared," I say. I'm such a liar.” ― Summer Lane, State of Rebellion
“There isn’t a Zen zone on this side of the planet that could calm me down.” ― Summer Lane, State of Chaos
“She’s got the kind of exotic beauty I always dreamed about. But really, who cares about stuff like that anymore? Being pretty isn’t going to keep my butt out of Omega’s crosshairs.” ― Summer Lane, State of Chaos
“I last visited White Hart Lane in early February 2016, and as I took my seat, after a few pints in the (TV-less) concourse, in the upper tier of the South-West corner I couldn’t help but notice the tumbleweed rolling around the ground. The stony silence from areas of the ground where I would normally expect the home fans to be sitting was deafening, and the whole ground was reminiscent of a ghost town. Whenever the magnificent Watford support ceased singing for a brief second or two I could hear the hollow, dry wind, and I found the desolate, dry and humourless atmosphere all rather eerie. But here’s the weird thing. If I squinted my eyes it almost appeared as if 36,000 people were sitting in seats around the ground, and the only conclusion I could draw was that it just one guy and that it was all done with mirrors.” ― Karl Wiggins, Gunpowder Soup
“I'm so ready that a flash flood warning just went into effect," Sadie says softly.” ― Lane Hart, Jude
“Deaner ran down to the barrier separating the crowd from the pitch, and eventually persuaded the stewards that he had a part to play in the unfolding drama. (Anyone who has ever attempted to talk to a steward at a Premiership football ground will recognize that, whatever else during the afternoon required divine intervention, Deaner’s success in getting on to the White Hart Lane turf really was a miracle.)” ― Nick Hornby, Pray: Notes on the 2011/2012 Football Season
“On my hands and knees I watch the headboard creep closer to my face, knowing I'll probably ram into it soon. Not that it would slow Woody Woodpecker back there down.” ― Lane Hart, Jax
“To haste as a cause of confusion must be added distraction. Normally, except for those who work in the early hours of the morning, or who live up a long country lane, it is almost impossible to avoid being disturbed by incidental noises of traffic, industry, schools, and the wireless, or by the telephone, or by callers. Few people can immediately switch their minds from one complicated subject to another, and presently switch back again, without losing something in the process. Most business men and journalists claim that they are accustomed to noise and can ‘work through anything’. But this does not mean that they are not affected by noise: part of the brain must be employed in sorting out the noises and discounting them. The intense concentration achieved when one writes in complete silence, security and leisure, with the mental senses cognizant of every possible aspect of the theme as it develops—this was always rare and is now rarer than ever. Modern conditions of living encourage habitual distraction and, though there are still opportunities for comparative quiet, most people feel that they are not really alive unless they are in close touch with their fellow men—and close touch involves constant disturbance. Hart Crane, a leading American poet of the Nineteen-Twenties, decided that he could not write his best except with a radio or victrola playing jazz at him and street-noises coming up through the open window. He considered that distraction was the chief principle of modern living; he cultivated it, distractedly, and committed suicide in his early thirties.” ― Robert Graves, The Reader Over Your Shoulder: A Handbook for Writers of English Prose
“through my lower belly and made my skin feel like it was overheating. I’m not entirely sure what it was, but I do know that I want more of it again and soon.” ― Lane Hart, Cain
“We'll fight,' I interrupt. 'And if we die, that's how it ends. Fighting. With purpose.” ― Summer Lane, State of Hope
“At last, somebody in line steps forward. “I can commit,” he says. He’s a tall, lean young man with a rifle slung over his back.“What’s your name?” Chris asks. “Andrew,” he replies. “And I’m in.”Chris nods. A few other guys step forward and, after a few moments, the entire crowd of ex-POWs takes one step, signifying their decision. My chest swells with pride – pride for Chris’s leadership, pride for the people willing to give their lives to take down Omega. It’s a rush.” ― Summer Lane, State of Chaos
“I am not the girl I once was, and that is okay. I am a new woman, because this is a new world, and I will do what I must for the people I love...Nothing is perfect, but we have a chance now. We have hope, and that is all I ever asked for.” ― Summer Lane, State of Hope
“Jasper would have been completely hidden if it weren't for Highway 17, the crumbling two-lane road that traced the coastline, splitting cypress swamps and tidal creeks edging right up to the 350,000-acre ACE Basin, where three rivers converged to form the largest, wildest estuarine preserve on the East Coast. Jasper bordered the northeast side of the basin where dolphins, gators, minks, otters, and every manner of waterfowl and shore bird prospered from the daily six-foot inflow and outflow of saltwater, freshwater, and brackish water that rose and fell on cue like the sun itself.” ― Beth Webb Hart, The Wedding Machine
“I love you, Penelope Lane Hart. You’re my That Girl.” ― Kim Jones, Weight Loss Box Set: Delicious Recipes and Exercises To Reduce Your Weight Easily
“Months later… I try my best to enjoy summer vacation, knowing that in a few weeks I’ll be heading into the last semester of my senior year. I should’ve graduated in June, but because Robbie and I moved around during my freshman year, I fell behind a semester. Even though I won’t graduate and walk across the stage until December, my eighteenth birthday is only a few weeks away. That’s when I’ll be forced to leave the house. After the fallout with Cain back in January, I haven’t heard from him other than the few times he came by with gifts and tried to see me.” ― Lane Hart, Cain
“Voyages IIIInfinite consanguinity it bears This tendered theme of you that light Retrieves from sea plains where the sky Resigns a breast that every wave enthrones; While ribboned water lanes I wind Are laved and scattered with no stroke Wide from your side, whereto this hour The sea lifts, also, reliquary hands. And so, admitted through black swollen gates That must arrest all distance otherwise, Past whirling pillars and lithe pediments, Light wrestling there incessantly with light, Star kissing star through wave on wave unto Your body rocking! and where death, if shed, Presumes no carnage, but this single change,- Upon the steep floor flung from dawn to dawn The silken skilled transmemberment of song; Permit me voyage, love, into your hands . .” ― Hart Crane
“I can take you,” I reply. “But if you try anything, I’ll shoot you right between the eyes. Seriously.” He almost smiles.“Yes, ma’am.” ― Summer Lane, State of Emergency
“Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” Oh. My. God. Is this were a book, that would be the most highlighted line in it. “I love you, Penelope Lane Hart. You’re my That Girl.” ― Kim Jones, That Guy
“I'm not scared," I say. I'm such a liar.” ― Summer Lane, State of Rebellion
