Blades Quotes - Page 9

• it's a feeling of ice miles running under your blades, the wind splitting open to let you through, the earth whirling around you at the touch of your toe, and speed lifting you off the ice far from all things that can hold you down.

  Sonja Henie

  Sports, Running, Ice

  Sonja Henie (1940). “Wings on my feet”

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• War is honorable
  In those who do their native rights maintain;
  In those whose swords an iron barrier are
  Between the lawless spoiler and the weak;
  But is, in those who draw th' offensive blade
  For added power or gain, sordid and despicable
  As meanest office of the worldly churl.

  Joanna Baillie

  War, Rights, Iron

  Joanna Baillie (1853). “The dramatic and poetical works of Joanna Baillie”, p.173

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• In order to make a great, epic movie, you have to have the four Bs - babes, bullets, blood and blades.

  Danny Trejo

  Epic, Blood, Order

  Source: collider.com

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• Every blade in the field - Every leaf in the forest - lays down its life in its season as beautifully as it was taken up.

  Henry David Thoreau

  Taken, Condolences, Eulogy

  Henry David Thoreau, Jeffrey S. Cramer (2007). “I to Myself: An Annotated Selection from the Journal of Henry D. Thoreau”, p.31, Yale University Press

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• She scissored the curls away, and - toms, grow easily sentimental over their haircuts, but I remember this sensation very vividly - it was not like she was cutting hair, it was as if I had a pair of wings beneath my shoulder-blades, that the flesh had all grown over, and she was slicing free.

  Sarah Waters

  Cutting, Hair, Wings

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• She poured the water, arranged some bread near enough the embers to scorch but not catch fire, and looked up at Little John. She was so accustomed to his step, to his bulk, that it took a moment to notice his face; and when she did . . . It was, she thought, rather like the moment it took to realize one had cut one's finger as one stared dumbly at the first drop of blood on the knife-blade. You know it is going to hurt quite a lot in a minute.

  Robin McKinley

  Hurt, Cutting, Fire

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• What we end up calling history is a kind of knife, slicing down through time. A few people are hard enough to bend its edge. But most won't even stand close to the blade. I'm one of those. We don't bend anything.

  Barbara Kingsolver

  Knives, People, Calling

  Barbara Kingsolver (2009). “The Lacuna”, p.478, Faber & Faber

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• It required some rudeness to disturb with our boat the mirror-like surface of the water, in which every twig and blade of grass was so faithfully reflected; too faithfully indeed for art to imitate, for only Nature may exaggerate herself.

  Henry David Thoreau

  Art, Nature, Mirrors

  Henry David Thoreau (2016). “A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers”, p.34, Xist Publishing

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• Those two are carved from the same tree." the queen said. By the same blade." The high king answered and offered her his arm in splendid dignity

  Victoria Hanley

  Kings, Queens, Two

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• Holding anger is a poison. It eats you from the inside. We think that hating is a weapon that attacks the person who harmed us. But hatred is a curved blade. And the harm we do, we do to ourselves. Forgive, Edward. Forgive...no one is born with anger. And when we die, the soul is freed of it. But now, here, in order to move on, you must understand why you felt what you did, and why you no longer need to feel it.' She touched his hand. 'You need to forgive your father.' ~pgs 141-142

  Mitch Albom

  Father, Hate, Moving

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• But on the upside, your seraph form will never age. And the only way to die is by a demon blade. As long you survive fighting them, you’re immortal to the things that would kill a normal human. Think of the money you’ll save on medical bills. (Jack)

  Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Fighting, Thinking, Medical Bills

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• Raphael snapped, "This isn't funny." "That's why no one's laughing." Jace stood, hauling Raphael upright, jamming the tip of his knife between Raphael's shoulder blades.

  Cassandra Clare

  Knives, Laughing, Jace

  Cassandra Clare (2010). “Cassandra Clare: The Mortal Instrument Series (3 books): City of Bones; City of Ashes; City of Glass”, p.240, Simon and Schuster

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• Homesickness is not always a vague, nostalgic, almost beautiful emotion, although that is somehow the way we always seem to picture it in our mind. It can be a terribly keen blade, not just a sickness in metaphor but in fact as well. It can change the way one looks at the world; the faces one sees in the street look not just indifferent but ugly... perhaps even malignant. Homesickness is a real sickness--the ache of the uprooted plant.

  Stephen King

  Beautiful, Real, Mind

  Stephen King (1994). “Different Seasons”, Signet Book

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• A ruby-encrusted orb popped its top and helicopter blades unfolded. Leo was glad Buford the table wasn't here-he would've fallen in love.

  Rick Riordan

  Rubies, Tables, Orbs

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• You're killing me because you want me to give a message to God for you?" Jace shook his head, the point of the blade scraping across his throat. "You're crazier than I thought

  Cassandra Clare

  Giving, Want, Messages

  Cassandra Clare (2010). “Cassandra Clare: The Mortal Instrument Series (3 books): City of Bones; City of Ashes; City of Glass”, p.1177, Simon and Schuster

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• Love falls to earth, rises from the ground, pools around the afflicted. Love pulls people back to their feet. Bodies and souls are fed. Bones and lives heal. New blades of grass grow from charred soil. The sun rises.

  Anne Lamott

  Falling In Love, Feet, People

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• I had long wondered," Lan said to Tam. "About the man who had given Rand that heron-marked blade. I wondered if he had truly earned it. Now I know." Lan raised his own sword in salute.

  Robert Jordan

  Men, Long, Said

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• When I was little, I used to go to the local ice-skating rink. In my mind, I always felt like I could twirl and jump, but when I got out onto the ice, I could barely keep my blades straight. When I got older, that's how it was with people: In my mind, I am bold and forthright, but what comes out always seems to be so meek and polite. Even with Evan, my boyfriend for junior and most of senior year, I never quite managed to be that skating, twirling, leaping person I suspected I could be. But today, apparently, I can skate.

  Gayle Forman

  Senior, Years, Ice

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• The pale pink light of dawn sparkled on branch and leaf and stone. Every blade of grass was carved from emerald, every drip of water turned to diamond. Flowers and mushrooms alike wore coats of glass. Even the mud puddles had a bright brown sheen. Through the shimmering greenery, the black tents of his brothers were encased in a fine glaze of ice. So there is magic beyond the Wall after all.

  George R. R. Martin

  Brother, Wall, Flower

  George R. R. Martin (2012). “George R. R. Martin's A Game of Thrones 5-Book Boxed Set (Song of Ice and Fire Series): A Game of Thrones, A Clash of Kings, A Storm of Swords, A Feast for Crows, and and A Dance with Dragons”, p.981, Bantam

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• Peering down into the water where the morning sun fashioned wheels of light, coronets fanwise in which lay trapped each twig, each grain of sediment, long flakes and blades of light in the dusty water sliding away like optic strobes where motes sifted and spun.

  Cormac McCarthy

  Morning, Light, Long

  Cormac McCarthy (2010). “Suttree”, p.7, Pan Macmillan

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• The road was frozen. The village lay quiet under the cold sky. Komako hitched up the skirt of her kimono and tucked it into her obi. The moon shone like a blade frozen in blue ice.

  Yasunari Kawabata

  Moon, Blue, Ice

  Yasunari Kawabata (2013). “Snow Country”, p.77, Vintage

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• Then I placed the blade next to the skin on my palm. A tingle arched across my scalp. The floor tipped up at me and my body spilled away. Then I was on the ceiling looking down, waiting to see what would happen next.

  Patricia McCormick

  Waiting, Skins, Ceilings

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• Who would condescend to strike down the mere things that he does not fear? Who would debase himself to be merely brave, like any common prizefighter? Who would stoop to be fearless--like a tree? Fight the thing that you fear. You remember the old tale of the English clergyman who gave the last rites to the brigand of Sicily, and how on his death-bed the great robber said, 'I can give you no money, but I can give you advice for a lifetime: your thumb on the blade, and strike upwards.' So I say to you, strike upwards, if you strike at the stars.

  Gilbert K. Chesterton

  Stars, Fighting, Giving

  Gilbert K. Chesterton (2013). “The Essential Gilbert K. Chesterton”, p.201, Simon and Schuster

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• Insects were scurrying about in the shade cast by the grass, and the lawn was a huge monotonous forest of thousands of little green blades, all equal, all alike, hiding the world from each other. Anguished, she thought, "I don't want to be just another blade of grass."

  Simone de Beauvoir

  World, Green, Want

  "All Men are Mortal". Book by Simone de Beauvoir, 1946.

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• Which side of the blade is sharper? The lie or the truth? It all seems irrelevant when your jugular is sliced open and you’re lying in a pool of blood for the whole world to see.

  Nikki Sixx

  Lying, Blood, World

  Nikki Sixx (2008). “The Heroin Diaries: A Year in the Life of a Shattered Rock Star”, p.183, Simon and Schuster

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