Becca Fitzpatrick Quotes

Children do run from me. And so do some adults.

The whole wood seemed running now, running hard, hunting, chasing, closing in round something or - somebody? In panic, he began to run too, aimlessly, he knew not whither.

It's like one of those dreams you have when someone is chasing you. You're running as fast as you can, and someone's trotting behind you, just out of range, trying to grab onto you.

Run scared ... and they never catch you.

Folks were doin' a lot of runnin' that night

I was being chased by a giant crab. That's not funny.

Disney World?” Ari felt like his head was about to explode. “Disney World?” His gravelly voice rose into a harsh shriek. “They’re not on vacation! They’re on the run! They’re running for their lives! Death is following them like a bullet, and they’re on the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad?

Don't Stop ...down, ...Down there ...down where ...monsters, ...Run!

Here there be monster." Bob whispered, half hysterically. "Run! Run already!

Can you feel it? Something just changed. I believe that’s the sound the world makes when it pisses itself.

From that day on, I ran from spot to spot.

When in doubt or danger, run in circles, scream and shout.

When my grandpa was moved to physical action, you felt utter terror.

I was bullied at school. The black girl in Central Falls, Rhode Island, in 1973. There'd be 8 or 10 boys; I would count them as I was running.

Her only thought was of getting away, as if she were carrying a live grenade from inside the house, so that when it exploded, it would destroy just herself.

When you run in fear, it's square into the wall.

Don't look back!" "Why not?" "Because I just did! Run faster!

Well they're pissed off and they're hungry. I was kind of busy trying not to get my brains eaten. They seemed pretty adamant about the brain-eating thing. Then they're going to IKEA, I guess

I hear them mumblin, I hear the cacklin I got em scared, shook, panickin

You never know when some crazed rodent with cold feet could be running loose in your pants.

"Clove!" Cato's voice is much nearer now. I can tell by the pain in it that he sees her on the ground. "You better run now, Fire Girl," says Thresh. I don't need to be told twice. I flip over and my feet dig into the hard-packed earth as I run away from Thresh and Clove and the sound of Cato's voice. Only when I reach the woods do I turn back for an instant. Thresh and both large backpacks are vanishing over the edge of the plain into the area I've never seen. Cato kneels beside Clove, spear in hand, begging her to stay with him. In a moment, he will realize it's futile; she can't be saved.

Once released from life, having lost it in such violence, I couldn’t calculate my steps. I didn’t have time for contemplation. In violence it is the getting out that you concentrate on. When you begin to go over the edge, life receding from you as a boat recedes inevitably from the shore, you hold on to death tightly, like a rope that will transport you, and you swing out on it, hoping to land away from where you are.

In human affairs, the best stimulus for running ahead is to have something we must run from.

No, we don't walk away. But when we're holding on to something precious, we run. We run and run, fast as we can, and we don't stop running until we are out from under the shadow.

I ran like a thing that runs.