Quotes About Cardboard

The woman knelt among the books, touching the drenched leather and cardboard, reading the gilt titles with her fingers while her eyes accused Montage. "You can't ever have my books," she said.

The Zodiac letters from 1978 on were driven to Sacramento in a cardboard box, and these letters have never been refrigerated, which, for letters going back - what? - 30 years almost is a must for DNA.

I had a briefcase at one point, but it was a kind of 1980s New Wave briefcase. It was made of some kind of cardboard and it had metal hinges. It was kind of faux industrial looking, and I used to carry my books in it rather than a backpack. I didn't want to have normal student accoutrements.

Roblox already works well on a phone, when we do ship on Gear and Cardboard gamers on those platforms will be able to join and play along as well.

It was a large cardboard letter-file, old and faded but intact. I passed it to Wolfe, and he opened it with the deliberate and friendly exactness which his hands displayed towards all inanimate things.

Carrie, sitting there over your coffee cup in a wasteland of worn-out silver wedding rings, feeding yourself confections of motherhood like the display cakes in the bakery where you worked- all trimming over cardboard.

The sound of the wind against the sides of the house is exactly like the sound of wolf fur against cardboard.

His heart felt like an aging cardboard box in the rain. Only the memory of what he was supposed to be held him up.

I'm really familiar with what Cardboard's doing; it's not a novel concept. Cardboard is in many ways a direct ripoff of FOV2GO, a project I helped work on when I was at ICT, and it was fairly well known in the academic VR community.

Peter Kavinsky's such a cliché. He's like a cardboard cut-out of a 'cool guy' in a movie about high school.

Most of my films have a lot of character development and exploration, whereas in most horror movies the characters are just cardboard.

Permanence has been swept aside by the rapidity of empty images. The pantheon, we discover to our astonishment, is the doghouse of the burning asylum... We think our brain is a marble mausoleum, when in fact it's a house made of cardboard boxes, a shack stranded between an empty field and an endless dusk.

She breathed deeply and smelled water-logged books, the perfume of rotting cardboard and paper that had dried beneath the furnace of the July sun. If a single breath could summarize an entire life, she supposed that would do.

To those of us accustomed to newspaper headlines, 'PIZZAS' in inverted commas suggests these might be pizzas, but nobody's promising anything, and if they turn out to be cardboard with a bit of cheese on top, you can't say you weren't warned.

The Cat Dancer is a 30-inch piece of wire with some little cardboard cylinders on the end. My cats go crazy for it. I stuck it on the wall with the adhesive mount, but I ended up taking it off so I could hold it and play directly with my cats.

To say that Agatha Christie's characters are cardboard cut-outs is an insult to cardboard cut-outs.

Now I got a time machine at home. It only goes foreword at regular speed. It's essentially a cardboard box and on the outside I wrote time machine in sharpie.

A number of visitors called this morning,' Finchley announced with some pride. He took a tray from a waiting footman and displayed it as if it were a baby. Sure enough there was a little heap of cardboard bits, embossed with the names of nobility, acquaintances, friends and the purely curious.

People in south Manchester overwhelming want to be able to recycle more than they currently can - especially cardboard and plastics - and want more frequent and accessible collections, particularly for those living in flats.

fact, you could say that Rosa Hubermann had a face decorated with constant fury. That was how the creases were made in the cardboard texture of her complexion.

It's neat how money smells nothing like anything in the world except money, just like cardboard.

There's a crunch as the corrugated cardboard display is crushed between my weight and the wrought-iron rail. Model pieces and papers sail out of the open box and all the way down to the basement. Horrified, I drop to the stair in a desperate attempt to keep my hard work from disappearing forever. It's too late. The box is broken, the papers still fluttering.

Mr Chou cleared his throat, but it was only for an immense expectoration into a tin spittoon decorated with pink blooms. The baby rolled up and down among the tea-dregs and the cat leapt from a cardboard box on to a suitcase.

Without stories we end up with stereotypes -- a flat earth with flat cardboard figures that have no texture or depth, no INTERIOR.