A Quote by Glen Duncan

I hated the words. Each one was like a big live insect in my mouth. — © Glen Duncan
I hated the words. Each one was like a big live insect in my mouth.
Desari reached up to trace his lips. ‘You have a perfect mouth, Julian. An amazingly perfect mouth.’ He arched an eyebrow at her. ‘Just my mouth is amazing?’ ‘You are such a man.’ Her eyes laughed at him. ‘You need constant reassurance that you are magnificent.’ He nodded. ‘Magnificent. I like that. I could live with magnificent. Good choice of words, lifemate.
A line runs from the meditations of the heart to the words of the mouth. The meditations are not clear to us until the mouth utters its words. If what the mouth utters is unclear or foolish or mendacious, it must be that the meditations are the same. But the line runs both ways. The words of the mouth will become the meditations of the heart, and the habit of loose talk loosens the fastenings of our understanding.
The place is also big enough. We could all live there without killing each other." -Rhage "That depends more on your mouth than any floorplan." -Phury
I feel like in the old days, it was once it's a divorce, it's a constant fight until they die. That's how my mom and dad lived. They didn't talk to each other. They hated each other. They only spoke through lawyers. It's just a horrible way to live.
Each particle of matter is an immensity, each leaf a world, each insect an inexplicable compendium.
I think, on a frame like mine, if I lose a few pounds, it makes a big difference. I hated every bit of attention on my weight and size. Even now, I can't put into words what exactly happened.
The same words come from each mouth differently.
To survive, our minds must taste redwood, and agate, octopi, bat, and in the bat's mouth, insect. It's hard to think like a planet, but we've got to try.
There are times when I can't stop speaking, when a million words leave my mouth in a matter of seconds… a million words that mean nothing… but when I want to find some words that mean everything, I just can't speak. Like: I miss you. Like: I love you. Like: My world is falling apart and I need you by my side.
The German passion for bureaucracy -- for written and signal forms . . . to move about, to work, to exist -- is like a steel pin pinning each French individual to a sheet of paper, the way an entomologist pins each specimen insect . . .
I hated being "Mrs." from the first second each time. I didn't know why. All I knew was how uncomfortable it felt. I hated being one half of a couple, without understanding that it wasn't the husband or the man I hated, it was situation, the identity.
They think so small, they use small words. But not me, I'm smarter than that, I've worked it out. I'm stretching my mouth to let those big words come on out.
Don't ask me about Beverly Hills High School. Everybody hated it. I hated it. Hated it. Hated it. Hated it.
This is how moths speak to each other. They tell their love across the fields by scent. There is no mouth, the wrong words are impossible, either a mate is there or he is not, and if so the pair will find each other in the dark.
A lawyer is basically a mouth, like a shark is a mouth attached to a long gut. The business of lawyers is to talk, to interrupt one another, and to devour each other if possible.
I like to see people reunited, I like to see people run to each other, I like the kissing and the crying, I like the impatience, the stories that the mouth can't tell fast enough, the ears that aren't big enough, the eyes that can't take in all of the change, I like the hugging, the bringing together, the end of missing someone.
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