Blades Quotes - Page 19

• If you were a blade of grass or a tiny flower
  I will pitch my tent in your shadow.
  Only your presence revives my withered heart.
  You are the candle that lights the whole world
  and I am an empty vessel for your light.

  Rumi

  Flower, Heart, Empty Vessels

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• Any man that walks the mead
  In bud, or blade, or bloom, may find,
  According as his humors lead,
  A meaning suited to his mind.

  Alfred Lord Tennyson

  Nature, Men, Mind

  Alfred Tennyson Tennyson, Baron, Alfred Lord Tennyson (2014). “Fifty Poems”, p.131, Cambridge University Press

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• Let us keep a firm grip upon our money, for without it the whole assembly of virtues are but as blades of grass.

  Bhartrhari

  Money, Virtue, Assembly

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• Staring at her face, she began to fancy her outer layer had begun to melt away while she wasn't paying attention, and something -- some new skeleton -- was emerging from beneath the softness of her accustomed self. With a deep, visceral ache, she wished her true form might prove to be a sleek and shining one, like a stiletto blade slicing free of an ungainly sheath. Like a bird of prey losing its hatchling fluff to hunt in cold, magnificent skies. That she might become something glittering, something startling, something dangerous.

  Laini Taylor

  Skeletons, Self, Sky

  Laini Taylor (2009). “Lips Touch: Three Times”, p.40, Scholastic Inc.

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• All life is rife with possibilities. Seeds have possibilities, but all their tomorrows are caught by the patterning of their life cycle. Animals have possibilities that are greater than that of a fir tree or a blade of grass. Still, though, for most animals, the pattern of instinct, the patterns of their lives, are very strong. Humanity has a far greater range of possibilities, especially the very young. Who will children grow up to be? Who will they marry, what will they believe, what will they create? Creation is a very powerful seed of possibility.

  Patricia Briggs

  Strong, Children, Growing Up

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• I probably use my chef's knives more than any other tool in the kitchen. I'm not married to a particular brand, because they all work, they all have sharp blades.

  Bobby Flay

  Knives, Kitchen, Tools

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• The brightest star on a cloudless night
  Some kind of miracle, almost empty sky...
  Just as the bite of the blade wakes the absent mind
  There's time to dream and there's time to open your eyes

  Dave Matthews

  Dream, Stars, Eye

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• Lay down the axe; fling by the spade;
  Leave in its track the toiling plough;
  The rifle and the bayonet-blade
  For arms like yours were fitter now;
  And let the hands that ply the pen
  Quit the light task, and learn to wield
  The horseman's crooked brand, and rein
  The charger on the battle-field.

  William C. Bryant

  War, Light, Hands

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• He (Jace) glanced down at his bound hands. His wrists and shoulders had gone from aching to hard, stabbing pain, but he didn’t wince as the inquisitor regarded one of the blades, named it Jophiel, and plunged it into the polished wooden floorboards at her feet. He waited, but nothing happened. “Boom,” he said eventually. “Was something supposed to happen there?” ~pg.303~

  Cassandra Clare

  Pain, Hands, Feet

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• Youth is the season of tragedy and despair. Youth is the time when one's whole life is entangled in a web of identity, in a perpetual maze of seeking and of finding, of passion and of disillusion, of vague longings and of nameless griefs, of pity that is a blade in the heart, and of 'all the little emptiness of love.

  Ellen Glasgow

  Grief, Passion, Heart

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• The instant that the blade tore open his flesh, the bright disk of the sun soared up and exploded behind his eyelids.

  Yukio Mishima

  Flesh, Sun, Eyelids

  Yukio Mishima (1990). “Runaway Horses”, Vintage

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• A dispassionate white sun shone at the summit of the sky. I wanted to hone myself on it till I grew saintly and thin and essential as the blade of a knife.

  Sylvia Plath

  Knives, Sky, White

  Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.52, Hamilton Books

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• ...Ned always said that the man who passes the sentence should swing the blade, though he never took any joy in the duty. But I would, oh, yes.

  George R. R. Martin

  Men, Swings, Joy

  George R. R. Martin (2011). “A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle: A Song of Ice and Fire Series: A Game of Thrones, A Clash of Kings, A Storm of Swords, and A Feast for Crows”, p.1382, Bantam

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• Some kids are so depressed at home and with how people treat them in school that they cut themselves. This happens all over the world - kids who don't want to kill themselves, but nobody understands how much they hurt, so they cut themselves with razor blades.

  Chester Bennington

  Hurt, School, Kids

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• I kissed her," he explained, aggrieved. "Mmm, yes, I had the dubious pleasure of witnessing that, ah-hem, overly public occurrence." Lyall sharpened his pen nib, using a small copper blade that ejected from the end of his glassicals. "Well! Why hasn't she done anything about it?" the Alpha wanted to know. "You mean like whack you upside the noggin with that deadly parasol of hers? I would be cautious in that area if I were you.

  Gail Carriger

  Mean, Dubious, Would Be

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• The Sword of Elendil was forged anew by Elvish smiths, and on its blade was traced a device of seven stars set between the crescent Moon and rayed Sun, and about them was written many runes; for Aragorn son of Arathorn was going to war upon the marches of Mordor. Very bright was that sword when it was made whole again; the light of the sun shone redly in it, and the light of the moon shone cold, its edge was hard and keen. And Aragorn gave it a new name and called it Andúril, Flame of the West.

  J. R. R. Tolkien

  Stars, War, Son

  J. R. R. TOLKIEN “THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING”

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• When you collect marine animals there are certain flat worms so delicate that they are almost impossible to capture whole, for they break and tatter under the touch. You must let them ooze and crawl of their own will onto a knife blade and then lift them gently into your bottle of sea water. And perhaps that might be the way to write this book — to open the page and let the stories crawl in by themselves.

  John Steinbeck

  Book, Writing, Marine

  "Cannery Row".

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• The summer day is closed - the sun is set:
  Well they have done their office, those bright hours,
  The latest of whose train goes softly out
  In the red west. The green blade of the ground
  Has risen, and herds have cropped it; the young twig
  Has spread its plaited tissues to the sun;
  Flowers of the garden and the waste have blown
  And withered; seeds have fallen upon the soil,
  From bursting cells, and in their graves await
  Their resurrection. Insects from the pools
  Have filled the air awhile with humming wings,
  That now are still for ever; painted moths
  Have wandered the blue sky, and died again

  William C. Bryant

  Summer, Flower, Garden

  William Cullen Bryant, “From: An Evening Revery”

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• The blankets had fallen off and I stared down at her white back, the shoulder blades sticking out as if they wanted to grow into wings, poke through that skin. Little blades. She was helpless.

  Charles Bukowski

  Wings, White, Skins

  Charles Bukowski (2014). “Charles Bukowski Fiction Collection”, Harper Collins

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• Find something that is a happy, healthy alternative to hurting yourself, as opposed to taking a razor blade to yourself because at the end of the day, you're only hurting the most important person in the world and that's you. And you don't want to hurt that person.

  Andy Biersack

  Hurt, Healthy, The End Of The Day

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• I admired Stalkers style. He was incredibly fast using two small blades strapped to the backs of his hands. Slash slash slash. Fighting him you wouldn’t die of one great wound but instead bleed out slowly surprised to find yourself weak and dying after a thousand cuts.

  Ann Aguirre

  Fighting, Cutting, Hands

  Ann Aguirre (2011). “Enclave”, p.194, Macmillan

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• He went in, lean and deadly, and ended the creature with a lightning-fast spike of his blade. It shrieked, likely altering the rest. The death call carried like a mournful song.

  Ann Aguirre

  Song, Lightning, Creatures

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• In the neuter austerity of that terrain all phenomena were bequeathed a strange equality and no one thing nor spider nor stone nor blade of grass could put forth claim to precedence. The very clarity of these articles belied their familiarity, for the eye predicates the whole on some feature or part and here was nothing more luminous than another and nothing more enshadowed and in the optical democracy of such landscapes all preference is made whimsical and a man and a rock become endowed with unguessed kinship.

  Cormac McCarthy

  Eye, Men, Rocks

  Cormac McCarthy (2010). “Blood Meridian: Or the Evening Redness in the West”, p.258, Vintage

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• The knife is the most durable, immortal, the most genius thing that man created. The knife was the guillotine; the knife is the universal means of solving all knots; and along the blade of a knife lies the path of paradox - the single most worthy path of the fearless mind.

  Yevgeny Zamyatin

  Lying, Mean, Men

  Yevgeny Zamyatin (2007). “We”, p.103, Modern Library

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• That was when I cut my arms with a razor blade as a means of creative expression. I only did it lightly, just grazing the skin, to see the way the blood would bleed out, to make myself look tougher. Not like some of those kids who keep going deeper and deeper, wondering what they look like down to the bone, because it's a world that's so close and yet so far and so dangerous and so much their own. The only world that is their own.

  Francesca Lia Block

  Mean, Kids, Cutting

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