Quotes About Promise

He says again that he will not hurt her, she must not be scared, he will not hurt her, he will not, he promises, the words whispered in his new rasping voice. And then he hurts her anyway. The pain is startling, and curious in its specificity

He breathes in. He breathes out. He turns his head and breathes into the whorls of her ear; he breathes in his strength, his health, his all. You will stay, is what he whispers, and I will go. He sends these words into her: I want you to take my life. It shall be yours. I give it to you.

At the bottom of the steps, she turns to Iris, her face full of confusion. 'They said it would be there. They promised they would put it in there for me.

At the bottom of the steps, she turns to Iris, her face full of confusion. 'They said it would be there. They promised they would put it in there for me.' 'I'm sorry,' Iris says, because she doesn't know what else to say. 'I wanted it,' she says. 'I just wanted it. And they promised.

You said.' Esme shuts her eyes, screws them up tight, bowing her head. 'You promised,' she says, almost inaudibly and, with her hands, she is crushing the material of her dress.

His lips tasted cool and sharp, peppermint, winter, but his hands, soft on the back of my neck, promised long days and summer and forever.

I won't let this be my good-bye. I've folded one thousand paper crane memories of me and Grace, and I've made my wish. I will find a cure. And then I will find Grace.

She says: When are we gonna meet? I say: After a year and a war She says: When does the war end? I say: The time we meet

God told me, "I have taken one from you, but I will give you thousands.

You're goddamn right I'd fight him. But he's got to promise to fuck first. If he ain't going to fuck, I ain't going to fight. You give up all your energy when you come. I mean, you give up all of it! So, if you're going to fuck before a gig, how are you going to give something when it's time to hit?

Dearest . . . I am writing you once more now, night . . . brings a silence that helps me talk to you, and I wonder . . . could you be remembering too, sad dreams . . . of this strange love affair. My dear . . . although life may never let us meet again, and we—because of fate—must always live apart . . . I swear, this heart of mine will be always yours . . . my thoughts, my whole life, forever yours . . . just as this pain . . . belongs . . . to you . . .

jurara a si próprio que permaneceria, fiel toda a sua vida à premissa que fizera um dia ao seu pai, a de nunca deixar de se maravilhar.

Alors je me souviens que le mot 'Étranger' est une des plus belles promesses du monde, une promesse en couleurs, belle comme la Liberté.

L'amore è una particella di speranza, l'eterno rinnovarsi del mondo, il sentiero della terra promessa, colui che trova la sua metà diventi più completo dell'umanità intera. non è l'uomo che è unico in se stesso, è nel momento in cui comincia ad amare che lo diventa.

The oaths of loyalty they had sworn to Swein had expired on his death,

the king not only the promise of future paradise and life everlasting,

As a child, at the age when others promise to be Chateaubriand or nothing, I had written that I would be myself or nothing. I had certainly not foreseen that one day I would find myself in the position of being both myself and nothing. 65

Nos jours ne sont beaux que par leur lendemain.

We betroth ourselves by proxy, and then feel obliged to marry the intermediary.

Illness is the doctor to whom we pay most heed; to kindness, to knowledge, we make promise only; pain we obey.

Oh, my poor little hawthorns," I was assuring them through my sobs, "it isn't you who want me to be unhappy, to force me to leave you. You, you've never done me any harm. So I shall always love you." And, drying my eyes, I promised them that, when I grew up, I would never copy the foolish example of other men, but that even in Paris, on fine spring days, instead of paying calls and listening to silly talk, I would set off for the country to see the first hawthorn-trees in bloom.

And the others too were beginning to remark in Swann that abnormal, excessive, shameful and deserved senescence of bachelors, of all those for whom it seems that the great day which knows no morrow must be longer than for other men, since for them it is a void of promise, and from its dawn the moments steadily accumulate without any subsequent partition among offspring.

Her eyes seemed to promise a spirit forever capsized in the diseased waters of regret.

Repeatedly, I dare say, when pretty girls went by, I had promised myself that I would see them again. As a rule, people do not appear a second time; moreover our memory, which speedily forgets their existence, would find it difficult to recall their appearance; our eyes would not recognise them, perhaps, and in the meantime we have seen new girls go by, whom we shall not see again either.