A Quote by Marie Lu

Idiotic reply, June. Why don't you punch him in the face while you're at it. I turn even more flustered when I remember that I have actually pistol-whipped him in the face before. Romantic
What is a 'lucky punch?' Who do these people think I was trying to punch in the face if not Georges? Seriously - where did the luck come into it? I got him hurt and didn't let him off the hook.
I remember the day before my dad died, I was in a hospital room with him, and he had lived a long life. He was 94, and I helped him get up, and there were two windows separated by the partition. I took him to the first window, and he kind of found his way to the second window, and on the way there was a mirror, and he looked into it, and I saw through the corner of my eye, I remember the look on his face. What came over his face was "So I'm here. I've crossed that bridge."
If on a friend’s bookshelf You cannot find Joyce or Sterne Cervantes, Rabelais, or Burton, You are in danger, face the fact, So kick him first or punch him hard And from him hide behind a curtain.
You can't punch people in the face, punch people in the face, punch people in the face, and ask them to have tea and crumpets with you and think it's all good. Life doesn't work that way.
Punch a black belt in the face, he becomes a brown belt. Punch him again, purple.
Before The World Was Made If I make the lashes dark and the eyes more bright and the lips more scarlet, or ask if all be right from mirror after mirror, no vanity's displayed: I'm looking for the face I had before the world was made. What if I look upon a man as though on my beloved, and my blood be cold the while and my heart unmoved? Why should he think me cruel or that he is betrayed? I'd have him love the thing that was before the world was made.
The petit-bourgeois is a man unable to imagine the Other. If he comes face to face with him, he blinds himself, ignores and denies him, or else transforms him into himself.
Moonlight streamed in, sending loving beams over his face. He closed his eyes and basked in it, and I could tell it was calling to him, even though the moon was not full. She didn't speak to me, but Samuel had once described her song to me in the words of a poet. The expression of bliss on his face while he listened to her music made him beautiful.
I often laugh at Satan, and there is nothing that makes him so angry as when I attack him to his face, and tell him that through God I am more than a match for him
Last time I looked at a [pay]check, I said to myself, 'Who the hell is FICA? And when I meet him, I'm going to punch him in the face. Oh my God, FICA is killing me.'
People's behavior is not always changed based on a loss. I remember my dad or my uncle used to say, 'If that guy's picking on you, punch him once in the face, and he'll never come back again.' I don't know how true that is.
We had a great connection with Pedro Almodovar from the beginning. Even before I met him, it was so strange. I felt like I already knew him. I loved him even before I met him. It was so powerful. And when I looked at him in the eyes, this was the feeling that I knew I was going to have with him. It gets bigger and bigger every day. I adore him. It's much more than working together. He's a really special person in my life.
When a bully pulls your hair, you punch him in the face.
God actually delights in exalting our inability. He intentionally puts his people in situations where they come face to face with their need for him.
What more ghastly image can be called up than that of a man betrayed by his body who, simply because he did not die in time, lives out the comedy while awaiting the end, face to face with that God he does not adore, serving him as he served life, kneeling before a void and arms outstretched toward a heaven without eloquence that he knows to be also without depth?
When you are happy, so happy you have no sense of needing Him, so happy that you are tempted to feel His claims upon you as an interruption, if you remember yourself and turn to Him with gratitude and praise, you will be — or so it feels— welcomed with open arms. But go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside. After that, silence.
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