Catherine Quotes

Quotes tagged as "catherine" (showing 1-30 of 30)
Jane Austen
“but for my own part, if a book is well written, I always find it too short.”
Jane Austen

Emily Brontë
“Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living. You said I killed you--haunt me then. The murdered do haunt their murderers. I believe--I know that ghosts have wandered the earth. Be with me always--take any form--drive me mad. Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! It is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!”
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

Nicholas Sparks
“Love is Love no matter old you are, and I knew if I gave you enough time, you'd come back to me.”
Nicholas Sparks, Message in a Bottle

Emily Brontë
“But I begin to fancy you don't like me. How strange! I thought, though everybody hated and despised each other, they could not avoid loving me. (Catherine Linton, nee Earnshaw)”
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

Emily Brontë
“My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He’s always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.”
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

Marissa Meyer
“Timid or arrogant, Charming or infuriating, and Catherine was falling, falling, falling.”
Marissa Meyer, Heartless

Emily Brontë
“I got the sexton, who was digging Linton’s grave, to remove the earth off her coffin lid, and I opened it. I thought, once, I would have stayed there, when I saw her face again—it is hers yet—he had hard work to stir me; but he said it would change, if the air blew on it...”
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

Emily Brontë
“I wish I could hold you," she continued bitterly, "till we were both dead!”
Emily Brontë

Marissa Meyer
“A happy king makes for a happy kingdom.”
Marissa Meyer, Heartless

Catherine Cookson
“Oh God, I'm sorry I bring trouble on people. I don't mean to, you know that, you know that. And don't punish me by taking Ned. Keep him safe that's all I ask. That's all I'll ever ask again, just keep him safe.”
Catherine Cookson, The Girl

Bonnie Dee
“All of a sudden, she was there, breaking away from the little group of women and running toward him. She raced across the space between them and threw her arms around his neck. The force of her body knocked him back a few steps as she wrapped around him like a trumpet vine on a cornstalk.
He regained his footing and snaked his arms around her, holding her close. His
exhaustion disappeared in a moment, erased by the incredible fact that Catherine was in his arms right here on the street in front of half the town, lifting her face to kiss him. He
couldn’t refuse her offer and bent his head to cover her soft lips with his. The heat and pressure of her mouth took away all the residual anxiety and fear still floating in him and filled him with wild elation instead.
After several long minutes of feasting on her mouth like a starving man, he pulled away and his eyes opened. Her tear-streaked face filled his vision. His stomach dropped.
Why was she crying? What had happened to her?
He was aware of the crowd of people around them. Glancing up, he saw many eyes focused on him and Catherine, mouths talking, expressions of surprise and shock. He let go of her and stepped back, although it was far too late to protect her reputation.
Catherine cupped his face, drawing his attention back to her, and her lips were
moving. “…don’t you? Never again!” She frowned and signed as she spoke. “Never!
Understand? I love you.” Her graceful hands made the love sign, which looked as though she was offering her heart to him.
At last Jim realized she was upset with him for putting himself in danger. If he’d doubted that she cared, those doubts evaporated under the force of her fury. He nodded and promised.”
Bonnie Dee, A Hearing Heart

Catherine Cookson
“You make your son out to be to be almost an idiot; well let me tell you something, Mrs Loan, if he were a complete idiot, drooling at the mouth, he'd still be a better person then you.”
Catherine Cookson, The Girl

Vanessa Diffenbaugh
“Hyacinth. Please forgive me.”
Vanessa Diffenbaugh, The Language of Flowers

Lily Paradis
“I'm so stupid," I tell her, tears streaming down my face now, blocking my vision.
"You're not stupid. You're just an emotional vampire.”
Lily Paradis, Volition

Emily Brontë
“- Nelly, nunca tens sonhos esquisitos? - perguntou, após uns momentos de reflexão.
- Tenho, às vezes.
- Também eu. Sonhos que me ficaram gravados na memória e modificaram as minhas ideias; percorreram-me toda, como o vinho através da água, e alteraram-me a cor dos pensamentos.”
Emily Brontë

Vanessa Diffenbaugh
“I still look up sometimes when I cross the front of the house, expecting to see her.”
Vanessa Diffenbaugh, The Language of Flowers

Bonnie Dee
“She turned to go back inside the livery stable. The excitement with which she’d
entered it less than an hour earlier had been replaced by heavy-hearted dread. She didn’t want to see Jim right now, or even think of him and the ramifications of their impossible
relationship.
He waited for her only a few yards from the door, leaning against Lady’s stall and scratching her forelock. When Catherine approached, he raised his eyebrows.
“Nathan won’t tell.” She pressed a finger to her lips. “We’re safe.”
Jim stood there a moment, his expression unreadable. He took a tentative step toward her, pointed to her and himself and twined his fingers together with another questioning
tilt of his brows.
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I don’t know if we’re together or not. I simply don’t know. Please don’t ask me this tonight. I need some time to think.”
His gaze was riveted on her lips, then her eyes. He seemed calm, but she noticed tension in his jaw and neck, signs she’d learned to read to tell her when he was upset or angry. She wished she could give him a better answer, could tell him what he wanted to
hear, but to say “I love you and want to be with you” would be a lie right now. Her conflicting emotions were tearing her apart.
Walking over to him, she tilted her face up and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m sorry,”
she whispered near his ear so he couldn’t see her words. “I don’t mean to keep hurting you. I want to love you, but I’m afraid. You don’t understand what a huge thing you’re
asking of me.”
She stepped back, gave him a small smile, and gestured toward the door. “I have to go now. It’s late. But I’ll try to see you soon.”
He nodded, but the hopeful light had gone out of his eyes.”
Bonnie Dee, A Hearing Heart

Bonnie Dee
“Catherine glimpsed him again, leaning against the wall, arms folded. People passed back and forth between them, but she caught flashes of his face. His expression was tense and unhappy and his eyes still focused on her.
She ducked behind a large man to hide and chatted with various people to keep the distance of a room between them. She’d known Jim would probably be here tonight and she’d planned to greet him politely as a teacher would treat a student since everyone knew she was tutoring him anyway. But that smoldering look he’d given her had changed everything. The way he looked and the way she felt, surely if they got within a foot of each other the entire town would see the combustible attraction between them as if they’d shouted it aloud. No. Better to accept a dance with some white-bearded farmer who would swing her around hard enough to tear her bodice seam. Better to help Mrs. Hildebrandt cut one of the cakes at the refreshment table and gush over Polly Flint’s new baby or spend a moment in the coatroom fixing Jennie’s straggling curls. Better to chat or dance with every member of the Broughton community than admit to the fact that Jim was standing solitary and friendless in his brand new suit, waiting for her to acknowledge him At one point it seemed he might approach her as he moved through the crowd in her direction. But when Catherine flitted away, putting more distance between them, he stopped and stationed himself by the wall once more, leaving it up to her to come to him.
To her infinite shame, she didn’t—not even to say a quick “hello,” and when she next stole a surreptitious glance toward him, he was gone. She scanned the room. He’d left the building. She had no idea how long he’d been gone.”
Bonnie Dee, A Hearing Heart

Bonnie Dee
“When he finally broke off the kiss and moved his lips to her neck, then her breast again, sucking her nipples back to hard peaks, Catherine broke from her trance.
“No. I really must go. We haven’t time to do this again.” She pushed against his
restraining hands and wiggled beneath his body. “Let me up now.”
He pulled away from her neck and looked up, his eyes as poignant as a spoken plea.
Her heart wrenched and she wished she could spend the rest of the day with him, making love in their secret nest in the loft.
She sighed. “Don’t give me puppy dog eyes. I’ve got to go.”
Bonnie Dee, A Hearing Heart

Richelle E. Goodrich
“He gestured at me. “Do you like the blanket?”

I nodded. “It’s warm.”

“I made it. Well, actually, I didn’t skin the animal, but I did kill it….after the others pinned it down. It’s werewolf skin.”

My heart faltered; I gripped at a wad of black fur.

“I slayed the beast for you, Catherine. I used your sword. It was your grandmother’s idea actually, a wedding present. You mentioned how chilly you get.”

“You didn’t slay a werewolf,” I breathed before repeating the words louder. “You did not slay a werewolf, Thaddeus.”

“Oh, but I did. I took a band of huntsman with me and we tracked one down. A smaller one, mind you, not far from the front gate…”

“You did not!” I contended more strongly. Why would one wolf have separated from the pack? Why outside our walls?

“Yes, Catherine, I did,” he insisted.

I shook my head disbelieving. “You’re not capable—”

“I am so.”

I wanted to cry. I wanted to protest, but to do so meant giving away my knowledge of the truth. Without knowing what else to do or say I changed the subject.

“The fire’s gone out.”

Thaddeus turned his head to check. “You’re right. I’ll see to it.”

He fed the barrel stove until a healthy blaze was roaring. Finding me no longer a decent conversationalist, Thaddeus left with a promise to return soon with food and water. Unobserved, I gathered up the fur hide of a lost soul and curled into a ball, hugging it close to my chest.

I cried silent tears and mourned for this unknown werewolf for days.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

Catherine Anderson
“When you run, run to me”
Catherine Anderson

Bonnie Dee
“But, after one quick trace of his tongue between her lips, he abruptly pulled away and stepped back from her. She was leaning into him so hard he had to put his hands on her shoulders to steady her.
Catherine’s eyes flew open. Releasing her shoulders, he pointed past her to the books he’d set on the desk.
She opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again. As she followed Jim, she caught a glimpse of his profile when he picked up the books and slate. There was a smug grin on his face. He was toying with her, teaching her a lesson—that two could play at heating things up and abruptly cooling them down.
Indignation and amusement competed in her as she took her seat beside him and he handed her the paper he’d written. She hadn’t set him any homework. He’d done it on his own, printed a brief description of their picnic in short sentences or single words. It was
almost like a poem without rhyme. “Fish swim water. Sky. Trees. Leaves. Eat food. Drink.”
She smiled at him. “Very good.”
He touched his lips, puckering them in
a kiss, and tapped the signing book.
“Kiss,” she said and looked up the sign for it. “Fingers touching thumbs as both
hands come together,” the text said. Her cheeks flushed as she read, “trembling slightly to indicate the degree of passion.”
Catherine made the movement as she repeated the word aloud. “Kiss.”
Jim copied the movement, shaping his lips like hers. He pointed to the slate and offered her the chalk so she could spell the word. He studied each letter as she wrote it, before printing them himself: K-i-s-s.
Catherine’s cheeks flamed even hotter from seeing it written in glaring white against the black slate. Kiss. Kiss. Somehow there seemed to be no denying or hiding it now that it was written down. She glanced at Jim’s lips and her nipples tightened at the memory of
his mouth sucking them.”
Bonnie Dee, A Hearing Heart

Bonnie Dee
“There were many things he had to tell her, but what he really needed to say was simple. “I’ve missed you so much and ache to see you again. Every moment of the day no matter what else I’m doing you’re in my thoughts. I want to … need to see you again.
Please come to me.”
Pressing pencil to paper, he wrote. “See me. 7. Jim.” He thought a moment and added “Livery Stable” just as it was printed on the sign above the door of the building.
Folding the paper, he wrote “Miss Johnson” on the outside.”
Bonnie Dee, After the End

Bonnie Dee
“She gazed back at him, her mouth open, gasping for air. Her white blouse rose and fell with each panting breath. She shook her head. “No. We can’t. I’m sorry.”
His gut twisted. He wanted to shout, “Why? Why can I never have what I want—just once?”
Bonnie Dee, A Hearing Heart

Suman Pokhrel
“These heads sheltered by umbrellas
be they of Zeb-un-Nisa, or Catherine
of Cleopatra or Fenichka
live with their own stories”
Suman Pokhrel

Catherine the Great
“A great wind is blowing, and that gives you either imagination or a headache.”
Catherine the Great, The Memoirs of Catherine the Great

Samantha
“Gaston Leroux claimed that Erik’s character was based on fact. In my novel, let your mind imagine that Catherine’s is too…if you dare!”
Samantha, Life After Phantom

Jane Austen
“It was not four-and-twenty hours ago since they had met there to the same repast, but in circumstances how different! With what cheerful ease, what happy, though false security, had she then looked around her, enjoying every thing present, and fearing little in future, beyond Henry‘s going to Woodston for a day! Happy, happy breakfast! for Henry had been there, Henry had sat by her and helped her.”
Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey

Jane Austen
“[...] she knew not that a visitor had arrived within the last few minutes, till, on entering the room, the first object she beheld was a young man whom she had never seen before.”
Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey

Jane Austen
“Catherine was too wretched to be fearful. The journey in itself had no terrors for her; and she began it without either dreading its length or feeling its solitariness. Leaning back in one comer of the carriage, in a violent burst of tears, she was conveyed some miles beyond the walls of the abbey before she raised her head; and the highest point of ground within the park was almost closed from her view before she was capable of turning her eyes towards it. Unfortunately, the road she now travelled was the same which only ten days ago she had so happily passed along in going to and from Woodston; and, for fourteen miles, every bitter feeling was rendered more severe by the review of objects on which she had first looked under impressions so different. Every mile, as it brought her nearer Woodston, added to her sufferings, and when within the distance of five, she passed the turning which led to it, and thought of Henry, so near, yet so unconscious, her grief and agitation were excessive. The day which she had spent at that place had been one of the happiest of her life.”
Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey