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21 " Those who are close to us, when they die, divide our world. There is the world of the living, which we finally, in one way or another, succumb to, and then there is the domain of the dead that, like an imaginary friend (or foe) or a secret concubine, constantly beckons, reminding us of our loss. What is memory but a ghost that lurks at the corners of the mind, interrupting our normal course of life, disrupting our sleep in order to remind us of some acute pain or pleasure, something silenced or ignored? We miss not only their presence, or how they felt about us, but ultimately how they allowed us to feel about ourselves or them. (prologue) "
― Azar Nafisi , Things I've Been Silent About
22 " Some days I am not sure if my faith is riddled with doubt, or whether, graciously, my doubt is riddled with faith. And yet I continue to live in a world the way a religious person lives in the world; I keep living in a world that I know to be enchanted, and not left alone. I doubt; I am uncertain; I am restless, prone to wander. And yet glimmers of holy keep interrupting my gaze. "
― Lauren F. Winner , Still: Notes on a Mid-Faith Crisis
23 " You've always said I should have an inquiring mind," she said. " I have. But not an interrupting one. "
24 " It is unimpressive to interrupt another person while they are talking. Interrupting someone in mid-sentence demonstrates that your focus is on yourself, not the person talking. I had a friend who used a humorous retort whenever someone would interrupt him. He would graciously, albeit sarcastically, say, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to speak while you were interrupting.” It always got a laugh, yet he was cleverly letting the intruder know of his infraction without being too confrontational. "
― Susan C. Young , The Art of Action: 8 Ways to Initiate & Activate Forward Momentum for Positive Impact (The Art of First Impressions for Positive Impact, #4)
25 " Oh, sorry. I’m not . . . uh . . . interrupting something that will make me uncomfortable, am I? "
― , Dragon Actually (Dragon Kin, #1)
26 " Emergency? Knighthawk sent. I’m just bored.I blinked, holding my phone and rereading that text.Bored? I sent. You’re literally spying on the entire world, Knighthawk. You can read anyone’s mail, listen to anyone’s phone calls.First, it’s not the whole world, he wrote. Only large chunks of North and Central America. Second, do you have any idea how mind-numbingly DULL most people are?I started a reply, but a flurry of messages came at me, interrupting what I was going to say.Oh! Knighthawk wrote. Look at this pretty flower!Hey. I want to know if you like me, but I can’t say that, so here’s an awkward flirtation instead.Where are you?I’m here.Where?Here.There?No, here.Oh.Look at my kid.Look at my dog.Look at me.Look at me holding my kid and dog.Hey, everyone. I took a huge koala this morning.Barf. The world is ruled by deific beings who can do stuff like melt buildings into puddles of acid, and all people can think of to do with their phones is take pictures of their pets and try to figure out how to get laid. "
― Brandon Sanderson , Calamity (Reckoners, #3)
27 " The ironic thing is that marketers have responded to this problem with the single worst cure possible. To deal with the clutter and the diminished effectiveness of Interruption Marketing, they're interrupting us even more! "
― Seth Godin , Permission Marketing: Turning Strangers Into Friends And Friends Into Customers
28 " What's this?" he inquired, none too pleasantly. " A circus?" " No, Julius. It's the end of the circus." " I see. And these are the clowns?" Foaly's head poked through the doorway." Pardon me for interrupting your extended circus metaphor, but what the hell is that? "
29 " Gabe scratched his double chin. " Maybe if you hurry with the seven-layer dip...And maybe if the kid apologizes for interrupting my poker game." Maybe if I kick you in your soft spot, I thought. And make you sing Soprano for a week. "
30 " Syn pulled his boxers on and quietly left the bedroom, walking angrily to the kitchen. He turned the corner and wanted to throw a shit-fit at the sight before him. Day was standing at his stove loading some type of egg dish onto a plate before turning and setting it in front of God. God folded down one side of his newspaper, peering at Syn from behind it.“Well good morning, sunshine,” Day said way too cheerily for five-fucking-a.m. “We brought breakfast.”Syn clenched his jaw, trying not to yell at his superior officers. “Have you two lost your fuckin’ minds? Come on. It’s, it’s ... early.” Syn turned his wrist, forgetting he didn’t have his watch on yet. “Damn, you guys are always at the office, or at a crime scene, or over fucking here at god-awful hours.”“Oh, it’s early?” Day said disbelievingly. God shrugged like he hadn’t realized either.“Seriously. When the fuck do you guys sleep?”“Never,” God said nonchalantly.“When do you fuck?” Syn snapped.“Always,” Day quipped. “Just did thirty minutes ago. Nice couch by the way, real comfy, sorry for the stain.” Syn tiredly flipped Day off.“Don’t be pissed,” Day sing-songed. “A dab of Shout will get that right out.”Syn rubbed angrily at his tired eyes, growling, “Day.”“He’s not in a joking mood, sweetheart,” God said from behind his paper. “You know we didn’t fuck on your couch so calm the hell down. Damn you’re moody in the morning. Unless ... We weren’t interrupting anything, were we? So, how’s porn boy?” God’s gruff voice filled the kitchen, making Syn cringe.“First of all. Don’t fucking call him that, ever, and damnit God. Lower your voice. Shit. He’s still asleep,” Syn berated his Lieutenant, who didn’t look the slightest bit fazed by Syn’s irritation. “You guys could let him sleep, he’s had a rough night, ya know.”Day leaned his chest against God’s large back, draping his arms over his shoulders. “Oh damn, what kind of friends are we? It was rough, huh?” Day looked apologetic.“Yes, it was, Day. He just–”“Try water-based lube next time,” Day interrupted, causing God to choke on his eggs.“Day, fuck.” Syn tried not to grin, but when he thought about it, it really was funny.“I knew I’d get you to smile. Have some breakfast Sarge, we gotta go question the crazy chicks. You know how much people feel like sharing when they’ve spent a night in jail.”“Damn. Alright, just let me–”“Wow. Something smells great.” Furi’s deep voice reached them from down the hall as he made his way to the kitchen. “You cook babe? Who knew? I’ll have the Gladiator portion.” Furi used his best Roman accent as he sauntered into the kitchen with his hands on hips and his head high.Syn turned just as Furi noticed God and Day.“Oh, fuck, shit, Jesus Christ!” Furi stumbled, his eyes darting wildly between all of them. “Damn, I’m so sorry.” Furi looked at Syn trying to gauge exactly how much he’d fucked up just now.Syn smiled at him and Furi immediately lost the horrified expression. Syn held his hand out and mouthed to him 'it's okay. "
― A.E. Via
31 " Issib wasn't thrilled to see him. I'm busy and don't need interruptions." " This is the household library," said Nafai. " This is where we always come to do research." " See? You're interrupting already." " Look, I didn't say anything, I just came in here, and you started picking at me the second I walked in the door." " I was hoping you'd walk back out." " I can't. Mother sent me here." Nafai walked over behind Issib, who was floating comfortably in the air in front of his computer display. It was layered thirty pages deep, but each page had only a few words on it, so he could see almost everything at once. Like a game of solitaire, in which Issib was simply moving fragments from place to place. The fragments were all words in weird languages. The ones Nafai recognized were very old. " What language is that?" Nafai asked pointing, to one. Issib signed. " I'm so glad you're not interrupting me." " What is it, some ancient form of Vijati?" " Very good. It's Slucajan, which came from Obilazati, the original form of Vijati. It's dead now." " I read Vijati, you know." " I don't." " Oh, so you're specializing in ancient, obscure languages that nobody speaks anymore, including you?" " I'm not learning these languages, I'm researching lost words." " If the whole language is dead, then all the words are lost." " Words that used to have meanings, but that died out or survived only in idiomatic expressions. Like 'dancing bear.' What's a bear, do you know?" " I don't know. I always thought it was some kind of graceful bird." " Wrong. It's an ancient mammal. Known only on Earth, I think, and not brought here. Or it died out soon. It was bigger than a man, very powerful. A predator." " And it danced?" " The expression used to mean something absurdly clumsy. Like a dog walking on its hind legs." " And now it means the opposite. That's weird. How could it change?" " Because there aren't any bears. THe meaning used to be obvious, because everybody knew a bear and how clumsy it would look, dancing. But when the bears were gone, the meaning could go anywhere. Now we use it for a person who's extremely deft in getting out of an embarrassing social situation. It's the only case that we use the word bear anymore. And you see a lot of people misspelling it, too." " Great stuff. You doing a linguistics project?" " No." " What's this for, then?" " Me." " Just collection old idioms?" " Lost words." " Like bear? The word isn't lost, Issya. It's the bears that are gone." " Very good, Nyef. You get full credit for the assignment. Go away now. "
32 " I could stay here forever interrupting our talking with kissing, interrupting our kissing with talking. "
― Nicola Yoon
