A Quote by Maggie Stiefvater
You're assuming they would listen to me," I said. Cole lifted his hands off the roof of the Volkswagen; cloudy fingerprints evaporated seconds ater he did. "We all listen to you, Sam." He jumped to the pavement. "You just don't always talk to us.
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The way so many musicians slavishly imitated Coltrane, that's the way it was with Charlie Parker - only even more so, if that can be imagined. Everyone that I knew changed totally. But they took the worst things of his playing-that harsh sound; it just didn't come off the way they did it. The way he did it was great, Their way wasn't good at all. I just would listen to 'em, say: 'That's a Bird imitator', and that would be it; I would never care to listen to them again.
If you're a fiction writer, though, I can tell you how to let people talk through you. Listen. Just be quiet, and listen. Let the character talk. Don't censor, don't control. Listen, and write.
For a second, he was still, blinking. Then he shook off all the blankets and coats so that his arms were free and he wrapped them around me as tightly as he could. I felt him shuddering, shuddering against me as he buried his face in my hair. I said, uselessly, "Sam, don't go." Sam cupped my face in his hands and looked me in the eyes. His eyes were yellow, sad, wolf, mine. "These stay the same. Remember that when you look at me. Remember it's me. Please."" — Grace and Sam (Shiver)
I met Sam Phillips when he came in [studio] and I said, I'm John Cash. I'm the one who's been calling. And if you'd listen to me, I believe you'll be glad you did. And he said, come on in. That was a good lesson for me, you know, to believe in myself.
It’s been a long time since Sherlock Holmes jumped off that roof - it’s time to reveal the truth about what happened between him and the pavement.
I started down but Sam caught my arm and knelt down himself to look. "For crying out loud," he said. "It's a racoon." "Poor thing," I said. "It could be a rabid baby-killer," Cole told me primly. "Shut up," Sam said pleasantly.
We need to talk.” “I’m just – Look,” I said, as he took a step toward me. “I’m just going to give Cee Cee a call and maybe we’ll go to the beach or something, because I really … I just need a day off.”Another step toward me. Now he was right in front of me. “Especially,” I said significantly, looking up at him, “from talking. That’s what I especially need a day off from. Talking.” “Fine,” he said. He reached up and cupped my face in both his hands. “We don’t have to talk.”And that’s when he kissed me. On the lips.
I have a terrible problem with procrastination. A friend told me, "Well, you should go to therapy." And I thought about it, but then I said, "Wait a minute. Why should I pay a stranger to listen to me talk when I can get strangers to pay to listen to me talk?" And that's when I got the idea of touring.
The wife correct " Lorelei prompted. "She makes sure her husband is treated with the proper regard and she is the one who sees after his care just like you would do a treasured pup." Annabeth frowned. "I suppose that's true." "Thank you " Lorelei said. "Now if you wish to train a man to listen to you you never shout you whisper. They take extra special care to listen to a quiet tone while they automatically shut out loud ones. And just like you would a dog when he comes at your bidding you reward him. That way he'll always come instead of ignoring you or putting you off.
We imagine that if we had time we would quiet our more shallow selves and listen to a deeper flow of inspiration. Again, this is a myth that lets us off the hook - if I wait for enough time to listen, I don't have to listen now, I don't have to take responsibility for being available to what is trying to bubble up today.
I'm a musician and I listen to music all the time. If there's something out there where someone would tell me that I should listen to, I would listen to it.
I said uselessly, "Sam, don't go." Sam cupped my face in his hands and looked me in the eyes. His eyes were yellow, sad, wolf, mine. "These stay the same. Remember that when you look at me. Remember it's me. Please.
I’ve learnt to listen. I don’t think I always did listen. Not just in plays, but in life. And you have to hear what people are saying before you can respond.
I'd just play 'til my hands fell off. My parents would yell at me to stop because they couldn't stand the noise any more! I was terrible! It must have been hard for them to listen to me as a beginning drummer.
Just listen,” she said. “You can’t kill him in cold blood.” “Whyever not?” Ye gods grant me patience. “Because he’ll be dead,” she said as patiently as she could, “and Lady Clara’s reputation will be stained forever. Do not, I pray you, do anything, Lord Longmore. Leave this to us.” “Us.” “My sisters and me.” “What do you propose? Dressing him to death? Tying him up and making him listen to fashion descriptions?
The men gasped at Nicholas. "That's the most I've heard him say in three years." Sam said. He turned to the others. "You ever hear him talk that much?" "I wasn't sure he could talk," Tucker Addison replied straight-faced. "He talks," Dahlia said defensively. "Begging your pardon, ma'am, but he's just plain anti-social," Sam pointed out, "Always had been, always will be.
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