Knocking Quotes

“If you carry a weapon, war will follow you. If you carry a smile, love will knock at your door.”
― Amit Ray, Walking the Path of Compassion

“If nobody knocks your door, knock your own door! The most precious support for you is the support you give yourself!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“يدق بابك بعنف كل من يحمل لك خبرا سعيدا”
― أنيس منصور, قالوا

“Then someone knocks on the door, very clearly, four times. I pull away from Lena quickly.
"What's that?" I say, dragging my forearm across my eyes, trying to get control of myself. Lena tries to pass it off as though she hadn't heard. Her face has gone white, her eyes wide and terrified. When the knocking starts up again, she doesn't move, just stays frozen where she is.
"I thought nobody comes in this way." I cross my arms, watching Lena narrowly. There's a suspicious needling, pricking at some corner of my mind, but I can't quite focus on it.
"They don't. I mean—sometimes—I mean, the delivery guys—"
As she stammers excuses, the door opens, and he pokes his head in—the boy from the day Lena and I jumped the gate at the lab complex, just after we had our evaluations. His eyes land on me and he, too, freezes.
At first I think there must be a mistake. He must have knocked on the wrong door. Lena will yell at him now, tell him to clear off. But then my mind grinds slowly into gear and I realize that no, he has just called Lena's name. This was obviously planned.”
― Lauren Oliver, Hana

“I am no longer knocking at death’s door but the path is still familiar.”
― M.E. Aster

“Is there anybody there?" said the Traveller,
Knocking on the moonlit door.”
― Walter de la Mare

“Would he ever, he wondered, escape from people who banged on the doors he locked to demand his egress?”
― William Trevor, The Boarding-House

“Knock-knock-knock.
No, that's not creepy at all. Being in a spaceship twelve light-years from home and having someone knock on the door is totally normal.”
― Andy Weir, Project Hail Mary

“The person of vision knocks on a door that’s yet to be built.”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

“The third level of prayer, which is much more serious is knocking”
― Sunday Adelaja

“Keep on knocking relentlessly again and again until the Lord answers”
― Sunday Adelaja

“Right as I go to kiss Echo, someone knocks on the door. Damn it all to hell. “Go away!”
“Be nice! It’s probably housekeeping.” Echo shoves at my chest and while she doesn’t have enough strength to push me away, I drop back like a domino, and she hops out of bed.
“Be right there,” she calls out, then she lowers her voice to address me. “We’re lucky we didn’t get kicked out last night over the clothes.”
“We?” I repeat. “I’m not the one clogging hotel filters with boxer shorts.”
She pins me with a glare. I turn onto my side and prop my head up on my hand, deciding to enjoy the show of Echo hot as hell and strutting across the room. Spaghetti-strapped tank top and boy shorts that show a hint of her ass. On second thought... “You may want a robe if you’re going to open that door.”
Hell, a shirt would help.
“I’m going to crack it open to tell them that we’re still sleeping.”
“We’re eighteen and in a hotel. Did you want them to laugh?”
Her face turns red, and she shushes me.
Damn, she’s going to answer the door like that. I roll off the bed and grab a pair of jeans. “Let me. My luck it’ll be the maintenance guy, then he’ll be stalking you for the rest of the trip.”
Echo sticks her tongue out at me, but steps back to let me by. “Be nice.”
My lips tilt up as I rub my thumb against her cheek. “I’m always nice.” ”
― Katie McGarry, Breaking the Rules

“If you keep knocking, the door will eventually be open.”
― Lailah Gifty Akita

“One knock is not enough to open the door.”
― Lailah Gifty Akita

“In order that a new world may step in, this world must for a time disappear. The murderers and the murder must be insulated -- cut off by an immeasurable gulf from the ordinary tide and succession of human affairs locked up and sequestered in some deep recess; we must be made sensible that the world of ordinary life is suddenly arrested -- laid asleep -- tranced -- racked into a dread armistice; time must be annihilated; relation to things without abolished; and all must pass self-withdrawn into a deep syncope and suspension of earthly passion. Hence it is, that, when the deed is done, when the work of darkness is perfect, then the world of darkness passes away like a pageantry in the clouds: the knocking at the gate is heard; and it makes known audibly that the reaction has commenced: the human has made its reflux upon the fiendish; the pulses of life are beginning to beat again...”
― Thomas de Quincey, Confessions of an English Opium-Eater & Other Writings