Brown Quotes - Page 16

• He was chugging brown pop from a can Jack had handed him while he stuffed nacho cheese Doritos in his face. I was glad to see he looked lots better, almost completely like himself, which proves Doritos and brown pop really are health foods.

  P. C. Cast

  Food, Nachos, Doritos

  P. C. Cast, Kristin Cast (2010). “Hunted: A House of Night Novel”, p.124, Macmillan

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• Carter pulled out several lengths of brown twine, a small ebony cat statue, and a thick roll of paper. No, not paper. Papyrus. I remember Dad explaining how the Egyptians made it from a river plant because they never invented paper. The stuff was so thick and rough, it made me wonder if the poor Egyptians had had to use toilet papyrus. If so, no wonder they walked sideways.

  Rick Riordan

  Dad, Cat, Rivers

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• December stillness, teach me through your trees That loom along the west, one with the land, The veiled evangel of your mysteries. While nightfall, sad and spacious, on the down Deepens, and dusk embues me where I stand, With grave diminishings of green and brown, Speak, roofless Nature, your instinctive words; And let me learn your secret from the sky, Following a flock of steadfast-journeying birds In lone remote migration beating by. December stillness, crossed by twilight roads, Teach me to travel far and bear my loads.

  Siegfried Sassoon

  Twilight, Land, Sky

  Siegfried Sassoon (1949). “Collected Poems”

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• On a cold, fretful afternoon in early October, 1872, a hansom cab drew up outside the offices of Lockhart and Selby, Shipping Agents, in the financial heart of London, and a young girl got out and paid the driver. She was a person of sixteen or so--alone, and uncommonly pretty. She was slender and pale, and dressed in mourning, with a black bonnet under which she tucked back a straying twist of blond hair that the wind had teased loose. She had unusually dark brown eyes for one so fair. Her name was Sally Lockhart; and within fifteen minutes, she was going to kill a man.

  Philip Pullman

  Girl, Eye, Heart

  Philip Pullman (2017). “The Ruby in the Smoke: A Sally Lockhart Mystery”, p.7, Knopf Books for Young Readers

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• What kind of dog is that?" I would always give the same answer: "She's a brown dog." Similarly, when the question is raised, "What kind of God do you believe in?" my answer is easy: "I believe in a magnificent God.

  Elizabeth Gilbert

  Dog, Believe, Giving

  Elizabeth Gilbert (2009). “Eat Pray Love: One Woman's Search for Everything”, p.15, Bloomsbury Publishing

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• Ah! Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit-flavored one, and since then I’m afraid I’ve rather lost my liking for them — but I think I’ll be safe with a nice toffee, don’t you?” He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth. “Alas! Ear wax!

  J. K. Rowling

  Nice, Thinking, Toffee

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• WEATHERS This is the weather the cuckoo likes, And so do I; When showers betumble the chestnut spikes, And nestlings fly; And the little brown nightingale bills his best, And they sit outside at 'The Traveller's Rest,' And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest, And citizens dream of the south and west, And so do I. This is the weather the shepherd shuns, And so do I; When beeches drip in browns and duns, And thresh and ply; And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe, And meadow rivulets overflow, And drops on gate bars hang in a row, And rooks in families homeward go, And so do I.

  Thomas Hardy

  Dream, Weather, Shepherds

  Late Lyrics and Earlier (1922) "Weathers"

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• Fall leaves are brilliant with gold and red. You can cup them in your hand and wonder at them, be amazed at their uniqueness and glory. But eventually they are gone, brown, crumbling, scattered on the wind. But the tree remains. The tree is what is important. The tree lives on. That was a difficult knowledge to bear, and an even more difficult life to live. Of course, being the leaf wasn't exactly desirable either.

  Rob Thurman

  Fall, Hands, Wind

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• There are two kinds of visual memory: one when you skillfully recreate an image in the laboratory of your mind, with your eyes open (and then I see Annabel in such general terms as: "honey-colored skin," "thin arms," "brown bobbed hair," "long lashes," "big bright mouth"); and the other when you instantly evoke, with shut eyes, on the dark innerside of your eyelids, the objective, absolutely optical replica of a beloved face, a little ghost in natural colors (and this is how I see Lolita).

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Memories, Eye, Dark

  Vladimir Nabokov (2011). “The Annotated Lolita: Revised and Updated”, p.66, Vintage

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• Most of the time when I have met artists who have meant a lot to me, the experience has been well above expectation. People like Iggy, Lou Reed, Jerry Lee Lewis, Black Sabbath, Nick Cave, Hubert Selby Jr, Billy Gibbons, Al Pacino, John Lee Hooker, James Brown, Johnny Cash etc. have been really great to me. What strikes me is most of the time, the bigger the celeb/legend, the more polite and cool they are. It's the insecure ones who treat you like they're doing you a favor by shaking your hand.

  Henry Rollins

  Insecure, Artist, Hands

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• Eric followed Vlad Tepes’s stubby finger, identifying me as the future Happy Meal. Then he stared at Dracula, looking up from his kneeling position. I couldn’t read his face at all, and I felt a stirring of fear. What would Charlie Brown have done if the Great Pumpkin wanted to eat the little red-haired girl?

  Charlaine Harris

  Girl, Meals, Eric

  Charlaine Harris (2009). “A Touch of Dead”, p.22, Hachette UK

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• We never thought some guy would deliberately fill our hearts with brown sugar and then pour hot water all over it.

  Terry McMillan

  Heart, Water, Guy

  Terry McMillan (2010). “Getting to Happy”, p.94, Penguin

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• Steampunk is nothing more than what happens when Goths discover brown.

  Charles Stross

  Goth, Steampunk, Happens

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• I couldn't resist him, his eyes were like yours, his hair was exactly the shade of brown. He's just not as tall, but I couldn't tell, it was dark and I was lying down.

  Amy Winehouse

  Lying, Eye, Dark

  Song: I Heard Love Is Blind Teo Licks, Album: Frank, 2003

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• Look at Charlie Brown's face. Would you please hold still a minute Charlie Brown? I want Linus to study your face. Now this is what you call a failure face, Linus. Notice how it has failure written all over it. Study it carefully Linus. You rarely see such a good example. Notice the deep lines, the dull vacant look in the eyes. Yes, I would say this is one of the finest examples of a failure face that your liable to see for a long while.

  Charles M. Schulz

  Eye, Long, Dull

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• My love for Dan Brown knows no bounds. It literally has no mass.

  Salman Rushdie

  Mass, Knows, Bounds

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• I am a man, and men do not drink pink drinks. Now, be gone, woman, and fetch me something brown." Jace said. "Brown?" said Isabelle. "Yes. Brown. It's a manly color. See? Alec is wearing it." Jace said. "Well, it was black but it faded." Alec said. "Well, I can always fix it up with something sparkly," Magnus said, holding a sparkley headband. "Resist the urge, Alec, resist the urge." Simon said.

  Cassandra Clare

  Men, Color, Black

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• Not like this vision before us, who was shaking water out of his slightly overlong reddish-brown hair as he leaned over to lay down his board (revealing, as he did so, the fact that beneath his baggy swim trunks—so weighted down with water that they had sunk somewhat dangerously low on his hips—lurked what appeared to be an exceptionally well-formed gluteus maximus)

  Meg Cabot

  Hair, Water, Swim

  Meg Cabot (2008). “Tommy Sullivan is a Freak”, p.41, Pan Macmillan

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• Maybe careers aren’t something you can really plan for. They just sort of happen, like brown eyes or flat feet. I took one of those career aptitude tests last year, and it showed that I should be a flight attendant or a seamstress. Not a fashion designer or anything, mind you, but a sweatshop worker. Apparently stewardesses and sweatshop workers and I enjoy a lot of the same interests and activities.

  Susan Juby

  Fashion, Eye, Years

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• Wendy warmed my heart, earned my trust, touched my soul, and then touched me in a lot of other places. And right after we'd slept together for the very first time she looked up at me with her chocolate-brown, trustworthy doe eyes and said, "I've got herpes. I thought you should know.

  Caprice Crane

  Heart, Eye, Soul

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• My captivity with Dimitri. The way his mouth—so, so warm, despite his cold skin—had kissed mine. The feel of his fangs pressing into my neck and the sweet bliss that followed... He looked exactly the same too, with that chalky white pallor and red-ringed eyes that so conflicted with the soft, chin-length brown hair and otherwise gorgeous lines of his face. He even had a leather duster on.

  Richelle Mead

  Sweet, Eye, Hair

  Richelle Mead (2010). “Spirit Bound: A Vampire Academy Novel”, p.89, Penguin

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• That memory made a lump form in my throat as I remembered his face, serious and gorgeous, those brown eyes intense and passionate as he spoke up for me and convinced the others of my value.

  Richelle Mead

  Memories, Eye, Passionate

  Richelle Mead (2010). “Spirit Bound: A Vampire Academy Novel”, p.104, Penguin

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• When her muzzle grew more white than brown, the chipmunk forgot that she and the squirrel had had nothing to talk about. She forgot the definition of "jazz" as well and came to think of it as every beautiful thing she had ever failed to appreciate: the taste of warm rain; the smell of a baby; the din of a swollen river, rushing past her tree and onward to infinity.

  David Sedaris

  Beautiful, Baby, Rain

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• Now I am quietly waiting for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again, and interesting, and modern. The country is grey and brown and white in trees, snows and skies of laughter always diminishing, less funny not just darker, not just grey. It may be the coldest day of the year, what does he think of that? I mean, what do I? And if I do, perhaps I am myself again.

  Frank O'Hara

  Beautiful, Country, Laughter

  Frank O'Hara (1995). “The Collected Poems of Frank O'Hara”, p.202, Univ of California Press

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• How is the birdhouse coming along, Charlie Brown?" "Well, I'm a lousy carpenter, I can't nail straight, I can't saw straight and I always split the wood... I'm nervous, I lack confidence, I'm stupid, I have poor taste and absolutely no sense of design... So, all things considered, it's coming along okay!

  Charles M. Schulz

  Stupid, Design, Nails

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