Top Sheet Quotes

Browse top 573 famous quotes and sayings about Sheet by most favorite authors.

Favorite Sheet Quotes

1. "I slept and saw God's forge in frost. Its hearth was quelled, and as it cooled so swooned the verdancy it kept above. In slumber it grew a thick winter skin, white as bedsheets. In their folds the waker dreamt, her breath as steam, her touch as hot as iron, forgotten in the fire."
Author: Andrew Hussie
2. "Nothing, in truth, can ever replace a lost companion. Old comrades cannot be manufactured. There is nothing that can equal the treasure of so many shared memories, so many bad times endured together, so many quarrels, reconciliations, heartfelt impulses. Friendships like that cannot be reconstructed. If you plant an oak, you will hope in vain to sit soon under its shade.For such is life. We grow rich as we plant through the early years, but then come the years when time undoes our work and cuts down our trees. One by one our comrades deprive us of their shade, and within our mourning we always feel now the secret grief of growing old.If I search among my memories for those whose taste is lasting, if I write the balance sheet of the moments that truly counted, I surely find those that no fortune could have bought me. You cannot buy the friendship of a companion bound to you forever by ordeals endured together."
Author: Antoine De Saint Exupéry
3. "One cannot live any longer on refrigerators, on politics, on balance-sheets and cross-word puzzles. One cannot live any longer without poetry, colour and love."
Author: Antoine De Saint Exupéry
4. "The hell of it is, I know the answer. The answer is that you never, ever, rely on another person for your peace of mind. If you do, you're screwed but good. Not right away, maybe, but sooner or later. You have to -- I don't know --you have to learn to live with yourself. You have to learn to turn back your own sheets and set a table for one without feeling pathetic. You have to be strong and confident and pleased with yourself and never give the slightest impression that you can't hack it without that certain goddamn someone. You have to fake the hell out of it."
Author: Armistead Maupin
5. "Wow, it really snowed last night! Isn't it wonderful? Everything familiar has disappeared! The world looks brand new!A new year ... a fresh, clean start! It's like having a big white sheet of paper to draw on! A day full of possibilities! It's a magical world, Hobbes, ol' buddy ... let's go exploring!"
Author: Bill Watterson
6. "David's mouth dripped open slowly. He stood with his heels dug into my carpet, a dashed hope, a broken dream. No amount of money could top the priceless look that gathered on his face like an unmade bed. His eyebrows crumpled and furrowed like disheveled sheets. His lips curled into an acidic smirk. Confusion and shock collided in the cornea of his dilated pupils. He was a B.B. King song, personified. His entire body sang the blues."
Author: Brandi L. Bates
7. "The sky is a tight gray sheet of Baroque prose pulled snug"
Author: Brandi L. Bates
8. "Look at that," he said. "How the ink bleeds." He loved the way it looked, to write on a thick pillow of the pad, the way the thicker width of paper underneath was softer and allowed for a more cushiony interface between pen and surface, which meant more time the two would be in contact for any given point, allowing the fiber of the paper to pull, through capillary action, more ink from the pen, more ink, which meant more evenness of ink, a thicker, more even line, a line with character, with solidity. The pad, all those ninety-nine sheets underneath him, the hundred, the even number, ten to the second power, the exponent, the clean block of planes, the space-time, really, represented by that pad, all of the possible drawings, graphs, curves, relationships, all of the answers, questions, mysteries, all of the problems solvable in that space, in those sheets, in those squares."
Author: Charles Yu
9. "He reached for a pencil and a blank sheet of paper from a stack beside Nina's typewriter, and began to fill it with scribbled notes and test keys."
Author: Christa Faust
10. "Hell, he´d probably put Ryan in charge just so Bunny wouldn´t be forced to do the paperwork. The last time they´d put an expense sheet in front of Bunny, he´d drawn big pink azalea bushes on it."
Author: Dana Marie Bell
11. "Ah...Dectective, this is a very private and personal moment for them both. I'm sure you can understand their need for-"A man stumbled out clutching a sheet round his waist and Valkyrie's eyes widened. "Whoa," she said as he hummed into a table. He was tall and sandy-haired and his physique was jaw-dropping lay amazing. "No way," she said. "Scapegrace?"The man looked at her, and shook his head. The a woman came charging out of the back room, slammed into the man and they both went rolling across the floor."Give it to me!" The woman screamed. "Give it to me!"Nye scuttled over. "Mr Scapegrace, you know the procedure cannot be repeated, your brains are in far too deteriorated a condition.""You! Gave! Me! The! Wrong! Body!"
Author: Derek Landy
12. "Then you get the wrong answer and you can't go to the Moon that way! Nature isn't a person, you can't trick them into believing something else, if you try to tell the Moon it's made of cheese you can argue for days and it won't change the Moon! What you're talking about is rationalization, like starting with a sheet of paper, moving straight down to the bottom line, using ink to write 'and therefore, the Moon is made of cheese', and then moving back up to write all sorts of clever arguments above. But either the Moon is made of cheese or it isn't. The moment you wrote the bottom line, it was already true or already false. Whether or not the whole sheet of paper ends up with the right conclusion or the wrong conclusion is fixed the instant you write down the bottom line."
Author: Eliezer Yudkowsky
13. "Come on," Falco said. "I'll see you safely home to your fancy sheets. I'd say you need your beauty sleep, but it looks like you've been getting plenty."
Author: Fiona Paul
14. "...Saracen had finished his barley and was happily chewing at the corner of a sheet that had been spread across a hedge to dry. He had once discovered a tablecloth, and ever since had been optimistic about the effects of dragging cloths off the top of things."
Author: Frances Hardinge
15. "In her excitement at the idea of just walking out the door she had walked out the door without stopping to practice and without even her sheet music, and now she had nothing to play from and nothing prepared.Some people might have been daunted by this setback. The Konigsbergs faced musical catastrophe on a daily basis, & their motto was: Never say die."
Author: Helen DeWitt
16. "For a split second, Harry thought how absurd it was for Tonks to expect the dummy to hear her talking that quietly through a sheet of glass, when there were buses rumbling along behind her and all the racket of street full of shoppers. Then he reminded himself that dummies could not hear anyway."
Author: J.K. Rowling
17. "Packing to leave Atlanta is a lot easier than packing to come here. We bundle most everything up in our bedsheets and cram clothing into duffel bags, leaving the rugs and thrift store findings to whoever the next tenant may be. We leave the next morning, Scarlett waving a sarcastic farewell to the junkie downstairs before we take of in the hatchback, pop music blaring and me leaning toward Silas, both to avoid the door of death and to rest my head against his biceps.Ellison hasn't changed, unsurprisingly. Buildings here are yellow and pale gold instead of harsh steel and silver. Trees dapple the sunlight across the car. The air is warmer, like loving arms that swirl around me for comfort. It's so good to be home."
Author: Jackson Pearce
18. "His stubble was cut smooth. he smelled of aftershave, dry deodorant and sex-tarnished bedsheets. those eyes--grey, strong, inlaid beneath a firm brow that displayed such hate and SUCH love--they seduced her every time... but not tonight."
Author: Jake Vander Ark
19. "She has never been a pretty crier. She sobbed the way she did everything else - with passion and excess. That she had managed to keep it inside her this long was astounding to James. He thought of pushing open the half-closed door and kneeling before his wife, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and helping her upstairs. He raised his hand, stroking the wood of the door, planning to say something to calm her. But what wisdom could he offer Gus, when he could not even heed it himself? James walked upstairs again, got into bed, covered his head with a pillow. And hours later, when Gus crept beneath the sheets, he tried to pretend that he did not feel the weight of her grief, lying between them like a fitful child, so solid that he could not reach past it to touch her."
Author: Jodi Picoult
20. "To transport this way along bouncy mountain roads is not the way to die. Every woman deserves the simple dignity of dying in a bed with clean sheets and an electric light at hand. They wanted me to participate in a horrible abomination. I simply will not countenance the lack of respect for the poor mother of those boys. Imagine how she would feel if she woke up and saw her sons piled at her side."-spoken by Sara to Matt regarding a victim of Amanita Phalloides [poisoning"
Author: Joe Niemczura
21. "Edith's clothes were flung in disarray on the floor beside the bed, the covers of which had been thrown back carelessly; she lay naked and glistening under the light on the white unwrinkled sheet. Her body was lax and wanton in its naked sprawl, and it shone like pale gold. William came nearer the bed. She was fast asleep, but in a trick of the light her slightly opened mouth seemed to shape the soundless words of passion and love. He stood looking at her for a long time. He felt a distant pity and reluctant friendship and familiar respect; and he felt also a weary sadness, for he knew that he would never again be moved as he had once been moved by her presence. The sadness lessened, and he covered her gently, turned out the light, and got in bed beside her."
Author: John Edward Williams
22. "....And then you get some jerk for a boss. And you think, 'I wish God was my boss. That would be awesome. He wouldn't care about my sales sheet. He would care about my soul sheet.' Then you feel a little embarrassed because that was such a low-quality joke."
Author: Jon Acuff
23. "One day, as My uncle Antonio was heading out to a cantina, I slipped a story I had written into his shirt pocket. It was story about a little boy who would poke his finger with a needle and make it bleed. The boy did it so he would get some attention from his mother. It worked out great for a while. But one day, his mother came into the boy's room, lifted up his sheets and found the boy's cold body. The little boy had bled to death. The next morning, I awoke to find a new black and white speckled composition notebook sitting next to my head...."
Author: José N. Harris
24. "Eloiseis getting married as well.""Eloise?" Michael asked with some surprise. "Was she even being courted by anyone?""No," Francesca said, quickly flipping to the third sheet of her mother?s letter. "It?s someone she?s never met.""Well, I imagine she?s met him now," Michael said in a dry voice."
Author: Julia Quinn
25. "I love doing laundry! It's so satisfying. I love the way it smells. I love doing the sheets."
Author: Keri Russell
26. "A few days back someone sent me two feathers. Two bird's feathers in a sheet of note-paper with a coronet, and fastened with a seal. Sent from a place a long way off; from one who need not have sent them back at all. That amused me too, those devilish green feathers."
Author: Knut Hamsun
27. "I worked for a newspaper in Europe for, I lived in Europe for about seven years, so I worked in this sort of a yellow journalism kind of a thing, it was like a scandal sheet."
Author: Kurt Loder
28. "I roll the covers back up over him and take his hand, noticing how well our palms fit together and thinking back to just after the last time he saved me—when he took my hand and told me that we'd always be together.I lower my head to his chest and continue to squeeze his palm. Tears fall onto the bedsheets, dampening the fabric just above his heart. "I'm so sorry," I tell him, over and over again.A few moments later, there's a twitching sensation inside my hand. Ben's fingers glides over my thumb. ‘Sorry for what?" he breaths. His voice is raspy and weak.I lift my head to check his face. His eyelids flutter. The monitor starts beeping faster. And his lips struggle to move."Don't try to talk," I tell him, searching for the nurse's call buzzer."Please," he whispers, his eyes almost fully open now. "Don't let go.""I won't," I promise, gripping his hand even harder."
Author: Laurie Faria Stolarz
29. "For a long time he had been white smoke. He did not realize that until he left the hospital, because white smoke had no consciousness of itself. It faded into the white world of their bed sheets and walls; it was sucked away by the words of doctors who tried to talk to the invisible scattered smoke... They saw his outline but they did not realize it was hollow inside."
Author: Leslie Marmon Silko
30. "Golden shadows shimmered and the musky scent of the candles dizzied every breath. They were on the bed now, an enormous bed with sheets of glowing satin. Clasped in an embrace they rolled together, drinking deep kisses from gasping mouths, hands stroking, teasing, chasing, bodies pressing against each other as if seeking to melt and become one with the other."
Author: Maggie Osborne
31. "The Journey One day you finally knewwhat you had to do, and began,though the voices around youkept shoutingtheir bad advice --though the whole housebegan to trembleand you felt the old tugat your ankles."Mend my life!"each voice cried.But you didn't stop.You knew what you had to do,though the wind priedwith its stiff fingersat the very foundations,though their melancholywas terrible.It was already lateenough, and a wild night,and the road full of fallenbranches and stones.But little by little,as you left their voices behind,the stars began to burnthrough the sheets of clouds,and there was a new voicewhich you slowlyrecognized as your own,that kept you companyas you strode deeper and deeperinto the world,determined to dothe only thing you could do --determined to savethe only life you could save."
Author: Mary Oliver
32. "LandscapeIsn't it plain the sheets of moss, except thatthey have no tongues, could lectureall day if they wanted aboutspiritual patience? Isn't it clearthe black oaks along the path are standingas though they were the most fragile of flowers?Every morning I walk like this aroundthe pond, thinking: if the doors of my heartever close, I am as good as dead.Every morning, so far, I'm alive. And nowthe crows break off from the rest of the darknessand burst up into the sky—as thoughall night they had thought of what they would like their lives to be, and imaginedtheir strong, thick wings."
Author: Mary Oliver
33. "The rain comes through their thin cotton clothes against their muscles. Alice sweeps back her wet hair. A sudden flinging of sheet lighting and Clara sees Alice subliminal in movement almost rising up into the air, shirt removed, so her body can meet the rain, the rest of her ascent lost to darkness till the next brief flutter of light when they hold a birch tree in their clasped hands, lean back and swing within the rain. They crawl delirious together in the blackness. There is no moon. There is the moon flower in its small power of accuracy, like a compass, pointing to where the moon is, so they can bay towards its absence."
Author: Michael Ondaatje
34. "And he gave me a few of the Xeroxed sheets of paper lying on the table in front of him. As he passed them to me, his thumb brushed mine and I trembled from the touch. I had the sensation that our past and our future were in our fingers and that they had touched. And so, when I began to read the proffered pages, I at one moment lost the train of thought in the text and drowned it in my own feelings. In these seconds of absence and self-oblivion, centuries passed with every read but uncomprehended and unabsorbed line, and when, after a few moments, I came to and re-established contact with the text, I knew that the reader who returns from the open seas of his feelings is no longer the same reader who embarked on that sea only a short while ago. I gained and learned more by not reading than by reading those pages..."
Author: Milorad Pavić
35. "The lines gradually become their own demiurges and, like some witless yet miraculous participant, I witness the birth on paper of sentences that have eluded my will and appear in spite of me on the sheet, teaching me something that I neither knew nor thought I might want to know."
Author: Muriel Barbery
36. "I do not have a bride gene. I haven't been planning a wedding since I was 3. I never put a sheet on my head and pretended that it was a veil."
Author: Niecy Nash
37. "Now the line is: Forget the classics, concentrate on an education for the 21st century! Which apparently means knowing how to operate electronic devices and figure out a spreadsheet. That's not education, it's vocational training. What once were means seem to have become ends in education. And our more with-it "educators" shift with every passing wind, clutching at the latest gimmick the way drowning men do at straws."
Author: Paul Greenberg
38. "He stood for twenty minutes in the bedding aisle at Target, trying to choose a manly sheet set, then picked the ones with a violet pattern, because he liked violets and who else was ever going to see his sheets, anyway?"
Author: Rainbow Rowell
39. "Do you know why books such as this are so important? Because they have quality. And what does the word quality mean? To me it means texture. This book has pores. It has features. This book can go under the microscope. You'd find life under the glass, streaming past in infinite profusion. The more pores, the more truthfully recorded details of life per square inch you can get on a sheet of paper, the more ‘literary' you are. That's my definition anyway. Telling detail. Fresh detail. The good writers touch life often. The mediocre ones run a quick hand over her. The bad ones rape her and leave her for the flies. So now you see why books are hated and feared? They show the pores in the face of life."
Author: Ray Bradbury
40. "Anyway, so what he did was, he spread sheets for 100 yards and underneath them he'd put things so there were bumps and different levels and on top he'd put little bushes and if you didn't look to close, it looked like snow!"
Author: Rod Steiger
41. "The cool kindliness of sheets, that soon smooth away trouble; and the rough male kiss of blankets."
Author: Rupert Brooke
42. "She was made after the time of ribs and mud. By papal decree there were to be no more people born of the ground or from the marrow of bones. All would be created from the propulsions and mounts performed underneath bedsheets- rare exception granted for immaculate conceptions. The mixing pits were sledged and the cutting tables, where ribs were extracted from pigs and goats, were sawed in half. Although the monks were devout and obedient to the thunder of Rome, the wool of their robes was soaked not only by the salt of sweat but also by that of tears. The monks rolled down their heavy sleeves, hid their slaughter knives in the burlap of their scrips, and wiped the hoes clean. They closed the factory down, chained the doors with Vatican-crested locks, and marched off in holy formation. Three lines, their faces staring down in humility, closing their eyes when walking over puddles, avoiding their unshaven reflections."
Author: Salvador Plascencia
43. "I shut my eyesand see a pocket of darkness.I want to fold myselfflat and crisp,slip inside of itlike a sheet of paperinto an envelope."
Author: Samantha Schutz
44. "He finished up then shed his clothes and climbed into bed. Turning onto his side, he closed his eyes. As always as he drifted toward sleep, there was a small, forgetful moment where he slid his hand over to touch Billie's back, instinctively seeking reassurance as he hovered on the brink.As always, he found nothing but cold sheets.A few minutes after that, he fell asleep."
Author: Sarah Mayberry
45. "I think you inhaled too much lead from those scantron sheets"
Author: Simon Holt
46. "Even when it isn't going well, knitting can be deeply spiritual. Knitting sets goals that you can meet. Sometimes when I work on something complicated or difficult - ripping out my work and starting over, porong over tomes of knitting expertise, screeching "I don't get it!" white practically weeping with frusteation - my husband looks at me and says, "I don't know why you think you like knitting." I just stare at him. I don't like knitting. I LOVE knitting. I don't know what could have possible led him to think that I'm not enjoying myself. The cursing? The crying? The forteen sheets of shredded graph paper? Knittong is like a marriage (I tell him) and you don't just trash the whole thing because there are bad moments."
Author: Stephanie Pearl McPhee
47. "The terror, which would not end for another 28 years-if it ever did end-began, so far as I know or can tell, with a boat made from a sheet of newspaper floating down a gutter swollen with rain."
Author: Stephen King
48. "...some men say get them crying on your shoulder and you have the sheets half-unfurled already. Other fellows say get them laughing. I say get them drunk. I ordered up more Riesling..."
Author: Stewart Hennessey
49. "Time and space were, from Death's point of view, merely things that he'd heard described. When it came to Death, they ticked the box marked Not Applicable. It might help to think of the universe as a rubber sheet, or perhaps not."
Author: Terry Pratchett
50. "The Fever BirdThe fever bird sand out last night.I could not sleep, try as I might.My brain was split, my spirit raw.I looked into the garden, sawThe shadow of the amaltasShake slightly on the moonlit grassUnseen, the bird cried out its grief,Its lunacy, without relief:Three notes repeated closer, higher,Soaring, then sinking down like fireOnly to breathe the night and soar,As crazed, as desperate, as before.I shivered in the midnight heatAnd smelt the sweat that soaked my sheet.And now tonight I hear againThe call that skewers though my brain,The call, the brain-sick triple note--A cone of pain stuck inits throat.I am so tired I could weep.Mad bird, for God's sake let me sleepWhy do you cry like one possessed?When will you rest? When will you rest?Why wait each night till all but I Lie sleeping in the house, then cry?Why do you scream into my earWhat no one else but I can hear?"
Author: Vikram Seth

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And I'm thinking about the old man. He'll be pounding on the glass right about now... or maybe not now. Maybe in a while. But he'll be pounding and... will there be blood? I like to imagine so. Yes, I rather think there will be blood. Lots of blood. Blood in extraordinary quantities."
Author: Alan Moore

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