Kip Hebets > Kip's Quotes

“The owner of the Post Office was called Maurice. A sixtyish-year-old with a large red nose that was pebble-dashed with broken capillaries, and a smooth bald head with a fuzz of grey hair around the side like the tide mark on a dirty bath. He had a gruff manner, distrusting eyes and a cough like kicked gravel.”
― R.D. Ronald

“Mary’s hands clenched. She’d been through fire, what with a murder, and white supremacists. And what about Caroline, who had gone undercover to rescue the Scroll’s Key Keeper? Where were the College’s thanks for that?”
― Susan Rowland, The Alchemy Fire Murder

“Winston, how’s she going b’y?” asked Herb in the familiar Newfoundland greeting.
Windflower gave the appropriate response. “She’s going good, b’y.”
― Mike Martin, Too Close For Comfort

“From the vaulted arches several stories above us, entire, mature trees were growing, reaching leafy boughs down into the open air between the floor and ceiling. There was a full glade growing up there, oak, birch, maple, and elm, like someone had carved out a few acres of the park and fixed it there upside down.”
― Alan Bradley, The Sixth Borough

“This evening I spied her in the back orchard. I decided to sacrifice one of my better old shirts and carried it out to her. The weather’s been warm of late. Buds on the apple trees are ready to burst. Usually by this time of the year, at that time of day, the back orchard is full of screaming children. Damut’s boys were the only two. They were on the terrace below her, running through the slanted sunlight, chasing each other around tree trunks. She stood above them, like a merlin watching rabbits play.”
― K. Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master

“It’s not good enough that happiness is only in my heart because of Her. I also wish her soul image to be happy because of Me.”
― Raz Mihal, Just Love Her

“She ran down the street and round the corner and up two more streets and crossed the road. ‘Will I be safe from him?’ the girl had said. And will I be safe from Samuel? She reached her car and threw her bag on the front seat and sat holding the steering wheel. Where to go, where to run to?”
― Elizabeth Tebby Germaine, A MAN WHO SEEMED REAL: A story of love, lies, fear and kindness

“When Val opened the door Jeremy almost had to catch his breath. She
was in a quintessential “little black dress”. This particular one left one
shoulder bare and with her hair swept to the opposite side, the geometry
of it gave the sensation of her being much more exposed than she actually
was. Still, it wasn’t even the flattering attire that nearly left Jeremy
breathless. It was the look in her eyes. That sparkle of joy at seeing him
was unmistakable, and truly the only clue Jeremy typically got of her
feelings for him.
It was said that in ancient Egyptian times the peddlers in the market
could determine a customer’s interest in their wares by the eyes. When
the eye beholds something it desires, the pupils dilate. On some level
everyone knows this, but in the case of the peddlers, if the pupils dilated,
the prices went up. And whether Jeremy knew it consciously or not, her
pupils dilated as she beheld him. All he knew for sure was that that look
told him Valerie was very glad to see him.
Then he saw her eyes slip down to his neck”
― Jody Summers, The Mayan Legacy

“Keep those eyes of yours, mate, wide-fucking-open. Never know when it’s watching.”
― Adam Scott Huerta, Motive Black

“Walls of thick vegetation rose up on all sides and arched overhead in a lacy canopy that filtered the light to a soft shade. It had just rained; the air was hot and steamy. I felt enclosed in a semitropical terrarium, sealed off from a world that suddenly seemed a thousand miles away.”
― John Berendt, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil

“A quiet conscience makes one strong!”
― Anne Frank, The Diary of a Young Girl

“La desgracia del hombre se debe a que no quiere permanecer tranquilo en su habitación, que es su hogar.”
― Patrick Süskind, Perfume: The Story of a Murderer

“This (primitive-to-civilized) continuum inevitably conflates the meaning of civilized in everyday conversation-"refined or enlightened"- with "having a complex division of labor," the only definition that anthropologists defend... Was the Third Reich civilized, for instance? Most anthropologists would answer yes... If we refuse to label the Third Reich civilized, are we not using the term to mean "polite, refined"? If so, we must consider the Arawaks civilized, and we must also consider Columbus and his Spaniards primitive, if not savage.”
― James Loewen

“that narrow window of life where he hadn’t yet learned either tact or guile.”
― Todd Burpo, Heaven is for Real: A Little Boy's Astounding Story of His Trip to Heaven and Back

“The life of the Addict is always the same. There is no excitement, no glamour, no fun. There are no good times, there is no joy, there is no happiness. There is no future and no escape. There is only an obsession. An all-encompassing, fully enveloping, completely overwhelming obsession. To make light of it, brag about it, or revel in the mock glory of it is not in any way, shape or form related to its truth, and that is all that matters, the truth.”
― James Frey, A Million Little Pieces