Quotes About Suitcases

It's such a diva thing, but I need one room for my suitcases and one for me.

Accompanying this nineteen-year-old virgin to New York City were two large suitcases- one filled with my clothes, all folded neatly in tissue, and the other packed with fabrics, trimmings, and sewing supplies, so that I could make more clothes.

Accompanying this nineteen-year-old virgin to New York City were two large suitcases- one filled with my clothes, all folded neatly in tissue, and the other packed with fabrics, trimmings, and sewing supplies, so that I could make more clothes (8).

And there they were, arrived; and it was San Salvatore; and their suit-cases were waiting for them; and they had not been murdered.

There were dozens of limos and taxis and MBs and Jaguars. Suitcases were going in and out and doormen in red uniforms were whistling for the next taxi in line and guys I took to be tourists who looked like they made a lot of money were with tall slender women who looked like they cost a lot of money to keep up. None of them looked like gunsels or thugs or art thief-maniacs, but you can never be sure.

I'm flowing and letting things happen as they happen. I want to be living out of suitcases on the road. I'm open to the universe, whatever comes my way. I feel like a hippie - but hey, it works.

Leaving would imply suitcases and empty drawers, and late birthday cards with ten-dollar bills stuffed inside.

My sisters and I sit together on a pair of suitcases. If we've forgotten anything, it's already too late -- our rooms have all been sealed and photographed. Anyway, Tatiana would say it's bad luck to return for something you've forgotten.

The importance of shared childhood food memories for bonding families together can be seen among expats who carry their 'homeland' with them in the form of ingredients smuggled in suitcases.

Angela felt like a ghost, moving out of time. Yesterday, they had rushed down this hallway, screaming with laughter as they grabbed their favorite rooms. Now the doors were all cocked open from when the police had trampled through. There had been strangers in the house, strangers in the suitcases, strangers in the drawers and closets

That's a big trunk, James said, as we jammed in the leathery old case that looked so much like the black heart of some leviathan. It fits a tuba, three suitcases, a dead dog, and a garment bag almost perfectly. That's just what they used to say in the ads, I said...

There is no terminus, only suitcases / Out of which the same self unfolds like a suit / Bold and shiny, with pockets of wishes. (from 'Totem')

the exiles who at midday relax at the café with their suitcases packed full of memories, packed and ready to return to paradise, even though they - or is it we? - aren't sure if that particular paradise is a memory or a dream (175).

Rapture cults had packed their suitcases and were massing together in great vigils, waiting for the end. "All bogus," she'd told Zuzana. "Just a bunch of crackpots waiting for the Apocalypse." "Because, fun, right?" Zuzana rubbed her hands together in mock glee. "Oh, boy. The Apocalypse!" "Right? I know. How much does your life have to suck to want the Apocalypse?

Her father dropped her off in front of the place where she was to live and left the engine running. Lila Mae removed the two suitcases from the back of the pickup truck. The suitcases were new, with a formidable casing of green plastic. Scratchproof, supposedly. Her father had only been able to afford them because they were, manufacturer's oats aside, scratched — gouged actually, as if an animal had taken them in its fangs to teach them about hubris.

Suryaz and Deme would each need a talisman, an object that smelt lovely, or that felt kind to the hand; such things are little suitcases to put sad feelings in so that they can go away by themselves.

there were doorknobs and doorbells where one touch had covered another beforehand. suitcases checked and standing side by side. one night, perhaps, the same dream grown hazy by morning. every beginning is only a sequel, after all, and the book of events is always open halfway through.

I grow sad looking at all those brand-new suitcases, all of them empty, waiting for a traveler, waiting for various things to fill them, waiting for someplace to go.

Authors often leave their sentences unfinished like that—at least the kind who come to Wentworth's do—and they are always men. Women authors seem to bother less about local color, or perhaps they bother more. Perhaps they actually pack a couple of suitcases and trek off to Borneo or Canada or wherever it may be, before they send their hero there to hob-nob with head-hunters or to track moose.

You're kind of a psycho. I get that." "I might be," Monica agreed, and gave her a slow, strange smile. "You're one smart little freak. Now run away, smart little freak, before I change my mind and stick you in one of these old suitcases for some architect to find a hundred years from now." Claire blinked. "Archaeologist." Monica's eyes turned winter cold. "Oh, you'd better start running away now.