Quotes About Impact

I shot the current through all the fences and struck the whole host dead in their tracks! There was a groan you could hear! It voiced the death pang of eleven thousand

Cumplamos la tarea de vivir de tal modo que cuando muramos, incluso el de la funeraria lo sienta

If I got it the right length precisely, I could spring the finishing ejaculation with effect enough to make some impressible girl deliver a startled little yelp and jump out of her seat --and that was what I was after.

It always happens that when a man seizes upon a neglected and important idea, people inflamed with the same notion crop up all around.

His intertwined understanding informed his professional path; his path informed an industry.

You could not believe what one sigh articulates. What one laugh creates.

recogniz[ing] the dangerous influence the unknown naturally has on everyone. P.60

You know sometimes you go into something thinking you're going to make all the difference. You're going to save the situation. Make it right. But that was too much for me.

I hope it doesn't matter. I have a terrifying feeling that it does.

The thought that I'd frightened someone I felt only tenderness for made it far worse.

hearing their death before the actual impact reverberates through the hull—and there never really had been time for lifeboats . . .

When a pebble falls down a well, it is gratifying to hear the eventual plunk. If, however, the pebble only slips into darkness and vanishes without a sound, the effect is disquieting. In the case of a verbal echo, spoken word acts as the pebble and the subsequent repetition serves as "the plunk." In this way, speaking can result in a form of "seeing...

You can kill a man with those words. No gun. No bullets. Just words and a girl.

Two weeks to change the world, fourteen days to destroy it.

She soon says, You're my best friend, Ed. You can kill a man with those words. No gun. No bullets. Just words and a girl.

The best word shakers were the ones who understood the true power of words. They were the ones who could climb the highest. One such word shaker was a small, skinny girl. She was renowned as the best word shaker of her region because she knew how powerless a person could be WITHOUT words.

When her hands reached out and poured the tea, it was as if she also poured something into me while I sat there sweating in my cab. It was like she held a string and pulled on it just slightly to open me up. She got in, put a piece of herself inside me, and left again.

I guess that's the beauty of books. When they finish they don't really finish.

The injury of words. Yes, the brutality of words.

The orange flames waved at the crowd as paper and print dissolved inside them. Burning words were torn from their sentences.

When he moves, a streetlight stabs him, and the words flow out like blood.

The words. Why did they have to exist? Without them, there wouldn't be any of this. Without words, the Führer was nothing. There would be no limping prisoners, no need for consolation or wordly tricks to make us feel better. What good were the words?

The conversation of bullets.

Sometimes you read a book so special that you want to carry it around with you for months after you have finished just to stay near it