Home > Topic > pocketed
1 " Stephanie could see the greed seep into the watery eyes of herfather’s other brother, a horrible little man called Fergus, as henodded sadly and spoke sombrely and pocketed the silverwarewhen he thought no one was looking "
― Derek Landy , Skulduggery Pleasant (Skulduggery Pleasant, #1)
2 " And while he sat there on the end of the jetty, he’d let the sound of the waves fill his ears, watch the clouds and schools of tiny sweetfish, take pebbles he’d pocketed on the way and throw them out into the deep. Then when dusk began to settle he would retrace his steps, back to his own world. And on the way home, a loneliness would always claim his heart. He could never quite get a grip on what it was. It just seemed that whatever lay waiting “out there” was all too vast, too overwhelming for him to possibly ever make a dent in. "
3 " Jackie, can you tell me if someone’s dead or not?’“Who it be? Maybe I heard something.”“Miranda Lopez.” I pulled out the charm and balanced it on my fingertips, and then I realized the photo was probably a better likeness. I pocketed the milagro ad held up the Polaroid. “I find out for you if you get me a dime.”I sighed and put the photo away. “You can’t smoke crack. You’re dead. And even if you weren’t, I’m not gonna score for you. I’m a cop. ““You so full of shit. You ain’t no cop neither.”“Would I be wearing this fucking suit if I wasn’t a cop?”“I don’t know. I always thought you sold cars or something.”I tucked my chin toward my chest and stomped toward my gate. Jackie couldn’t help me. And how dare she call me a used car salesman? I wasn’t always a dork in a blazer. Once upon a time I was actually cool. Until the Cook County Mental Health Centre, anyway. After that, I guess I kinda stopped caring. "
― Jordan Castillo Price , Body and Soul (PsyCop, #3)
4 " When I go to describe something as remarkable as what I saw that day, I could only say it was a place of dreams. The water is crystalline clear, a mixture of opalescent colors and frosted with white tips. It surges forward and crashes up against the rocks below us as the sun cast a fire-like glare in the distance. Adding to my reverie is the salty smell in the air that lingers and enlivens senses that seem to have been dormant before this moment. I don't recall moving in this dream-like state but my hand moves up and cups the wind as if trying to capture it's essence. If I could have pocketed every smell and sound of this place I would have and I would defended it with my life. "
