Quotes About Tension

Was Savannah another sibling? Why wasn't she here today? Was she the family outcast? The prodigal daughter? Is that why her name seemed to land between them with such portentousness? And had anyone called her?

The angrier Madeline got, the more freakishly calm Ed became, until he reached a point where he sounded like a hostage negotiator dealing with a lunatic and a ticking bomb.

It was so strange to be in a state of intense conflict with a person she barely knew.

You're having one of those days of accumulating misery when you argue violently with someone in a position of power: a bank teller, a dry cleaner, a three-year-old.

Connie could make her feel slow and bovine; the way she'd suddenly snap her head around and bark a question that would leave Margie fumbling for an answer.

Think of your worst pre-match nerves. Except there's no match. It's just Tuesday morning. That's how it feels to be me.

You're having one of those days of accumulating misery when you argue violently

Clementine winced. "I'm sorry, yes, I know, I've been meaning to give you a call, it's just…" "It's just that you don't really want to have any contact with us because you don't want to think about that day and because you didn't really know us that well in the first place," said Tiffany. She was sick of the bullshit. "I get it. I do get it." Clementine flinched.

Every conversation with her mother was fraught with danger. It was as if they were former players from competing teams who shared a long and violent history.

help" screamed silently in her head, as if she were begging for something: a solution, a cure, a reprieve. A reprieve from what? A cure for what? A solution for what? Her breathing had become shallow. She'd felt beads of sweat at her hairline. Then she'd seen the sign. Their lease at their Newtown apartment was up. The two-bedroom unit was in an ugly,

If they got beef Im the meat cleaver.

Oh, the testosterone. You could have cut it with a cafeteria spoon.

Sometimes you meet a girl and it's like matter and antimatter. You just hate each other for no damn reason.

He'd pulled back a little, just with his lower half, and I was afraid the scorch in my cheeks would set fire to the rest of me, because I an idea why. Wow. Oh wow.

God, was I going to have another day of painful thoughts jumping me every time I relaxed? The obvious solution—to just not relax—was kind of sucking.

My head felt like it was going to crack down the middle, like some demented dwarf was driving glass pins through my brain.

All these pulls on me that cancel one another out like an algebraic equation I can't solve.

Reality is the leading cause of stress.

Much as I like reasonable persons, I hate completely rational beings. For that reason, I am always scared and ill at ease when I enter a house in which there are no ash trays.

We expect some new disaster with each newspaper we read.

nothing? She seemed as nervous

He lifted the arm covering his eyes and turned his head to glare at her. "I knew you were trouble the first time I saw you." "What do you mean, trouble?" She sat up, glaring back at him. "I am not trouble! I'm a very nice person except when I have to deal with jerks!" "You're the worst kind of trouble," he snapped. "You're marrying trouble.

t was as if her mind was slowly dividing into two parts. One part of her was leading the boys around the planet to battle the Vespers, in a constant state of adrenaline-fueled anxiety, tension, and desperation. The other part was like a spectator, or a passenger maybe, detached, uninvolved- and uncaring. That part of her had begun to feel like a safe place.

Your anger is like the bubbles in a can of soda. The more you're shaken, the more you want to let it out. The longer you keep it in though, the greater the size of the eventual explosion - and the flatter the drink at the end.