Cold Quotes - Page 20

• What's this?" Nick said. "Bedtime?" No one answered him. I kept my eyes closed. You look positively content, Clayton," Nick continued, thumping down on the floor. "That wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that Elena is cuddled up with you, is it?" It's cold in here," I murmured. Doesn't feel cold." It's cold," Clay growled. I could start a fire." I could start one too," Clay said. "With your clothes. Before you get them off.

  Kelley Armstrong

  Eye, Fire, Clothes

  Kelley Armstrong (2012). “Werewolves: Book One: Bitten, Stolen and Beginnings”, p.375, Vintage Canada

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• 20 minutes later: a girl on Himmel Street. She looks up. She speaks in whisper. 'The sky is soft today, Max. The clouds are so soft and sad, and...' She looks away and crosses her arms. She thinks of her papa going to war and grabs her jacket at each side of her body. 'And it's cold, Max. It's so cold.

  Markus Zusak

  Girl, War, Thinking

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• If I am ever to find these trees meaningful I must have you by the hand. As it is, they stretch dusty fingers into an obscure sky, and the snow looks up like a face dirtied with tears. Should I cry out and see what happens? There could only be a stranger wandering in this landscape, cold, unfortunate, himself frozen fast in wintry eyes.

  Frank O'Hara

  Meaningful, Eye, Hands

  Frank O'Hara (1967). “Meditations in an Emergency”, p.19, Grove Press

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• Cast a cold eye on life, on death Horseman pass by

  William Butler Yeats

  Life, Tombstone, Eye

  "Under Ben Bulben" l. 89 (1939). The final three lines are in fact inscribed on Yeats's gravestone.

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• The instructor stared at me with cold, cut-me-no-slack determination, then got into a fighting stance, holding one hand out, beckoning me. "I saw that movie too!"I said."It was like the coolest movie of all-" He launched himself at me. That was when his day really went downhill.

  James Patterson

  Determination, Fighting, Cutting

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• Re-reading is much underrated. I've read The Spy Who Came in from the Cold once every five years since I was 15. I only started to understand it the third time.

  Malcolm Gladwell

  Reading, Years, Spy

  "This much I know: Malcolm Gladwell" by Tim Adams, www.theguardian.com. May 1, 2010.

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• I thought of you with your hair silver as snow all through that cold, slow journey from Sirle. I felt you troubled deep within me, and there was no other place in the world I would rather have been than in the cold night riding to you. When you opened your gates to me, I was home.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Home, Night, Journey

  Patricia A. McKillip (2017). “The Forgotten Beasts of Eld”, p.73, Tachyon Publications

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• There have always been Starkadders at Cold Comfort Farm

  Stella Gibbons

  Comfort, Cold Comfort Farm, Farms

  Stella Gibbons (1977). “Cold comfort farm”, Penguin (Non-Classics)

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• Not daring to flee since my general location has just been broadcast to any killer who cares. I mean, I know it's cold out here and not everybody has a sleeping bag.

  Suzanne Collins

  Mean, Sleep, Who Cares

  Suzanne Collins (2009). “The Hunger Games”, p.153, Scholastic Inc.

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• Come awake, Tom. Fathers can willfully hurt their children. They can be addicts too weak to give up their vices, no matter the pain it causes. Mothers can turn you invisible with neglect. They can erase you with a denial, a refusal to see. Friends can deceive you. People lie. It is a cold, hard world. I do not blame Nell Hawkins for retreating from it into a madness of her own choosing.

  Libba Bray

  Mother, Hurt, Pain

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• Then I felt something inside me break and music began to pour out into the quiet. My fingers danced; intricate and quick they spun something gossamer and tremulous into the circle of light our fire had made. The music moved like a spiderweb stirred by a gentle breath, it changed like a leaf twisting as it falls to the ground, and it felt like three years Waterside in Tarbean, with a hollowness inside you and hands that ached from the bitter cold.

  Patrick Rothfuss

  Fall, Fire, Light

  "The Name of the Wind". Book by Patrick Rothfuss, 2007.

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• A day, a livelong day, is not one thing but many. It changes not only in growing light toward zenith and decline again, but in texture and mood, in tone and meaning, warped by a thousand factors of season, of heat or cold, of still or multi winds, torqued by odors, tastes, and the fabrics of ice or grass, of bud or leaf or black-drawn naked limbs. And as a day changes so do its subjects, bugs and birds, cates, dogs, butterflies and people.

  John Steinbeck

  Dog, Butterfly, Light

  John Steinbeck (2008). “The Winter of Our Discontent”, p.39, Penguin

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• Forget Jack, I'm in love with the cold, dirt floor.

  Ann Brashares

  Dirt, Forget

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• You trap yourself sometimes, by thinking desire and need is love. Love is something far more precious, but something far more fragile. As fragile as one of our tiniest, most intricate, most delicately crafted toys. Hold on to it too tightly, and it will crumble on your fingers, but hold on to it loosely, and the wind might blow it away and shatter it on the cold ground. Listen to the voice comes from your heart, but be absolutely sure the voice comes from your heart.

  Virginia C. Andrews

  Heart, Blow, Love Is

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• For this relief much thanks. 'Tis bitter cold, and I am sick at heart.

  William Shakespeare

  Heart, Sick, Bitter Cold

  'Hamlet' (1601) act 1, sc. 1, l. 8

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• At last Niko dropped his hands, and opened his eyes. His perfect tree illusion solidified and settled. "Very nice," said Briar with approval. "Couldn't have done better myself" "Couldn't do it at all yourself," muttered Tris. Briar ignored her. "But you'd never find a cork oak in these parts. Too cold." Niko looked down his nose at the boy. "I beg your pardon?" Briar shrugged. "Just thought I'd mention it." Niko glared.

  Tamora Pierce

  Nice, Eye, Boys

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• But all that is warm will go cold. My ears will fall off and my eyes will melt. My mouth will be clamped shut. My lips will turn to glue. ...No taste or smell or touch or sound.Nothing to look at. Total emptiness for ever.

  Jenny Downham

  Fall, Eye, Smell

  Jenny Downham (2012). “Now is Good (Also published as Before I Die)”, p.141, Random House

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• To Cam surprise, she was smiling up at him steadily, her eyes midnight. His expression turned quizzical. "What's so amus­ing?" Amelia toyed with a button on his coat. "I was just thinking . . . tonight those two old hens will probably go to their beds, cold and alone." An impish grin curved her lips. "Whereas I will be with a wicked, handsome Rom who will keep me warm all night.

  Lisa Kleypas

  Eye, Night, Thinking

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• Even in winter, the cold isn't always bitter, and not every day is cruel.

  Jim Butcher

  Winter, Bitter

  Jim Butcher (2010). “Changes: A Novel of the Dresden Files”, p.345, Penguin

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• I'm stuck struggling in the cold water, and all I can do is grieve, grieve, in the hoar necessitous horror of the morning, bitterly I hate myself, bitterly it's too late yet while I feel better I still feel ephemeral and unreal and unable to straighten my thoughts or even really grieve, in fact I feel too stupid to be really bitter, in short I don't know what I'm doing and I'm being told what to do.

  Jack Kerouac

  Morning, Hate, Stupid

  Jack Kerouac (2012). “Desolation Angels”, p.18, Penguin UK

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• There’s only one question that matters, Ms. Lane, and it’s the one you never get around to asking. People are capable of varying degrees of truth. The majority spend their entire lives fabricating an elaborate skein of lies, immersing themselves in the faith of bad faith, doing whatever it takes to feel safe. The person who truly lives has precious few moments of safety, learns to thrive in any kind of storm. It’s the truth you can stare down stone-cold that makes you what you are. Weak or strong. Live or die. Prove yourself. How much truth can you take, Ms. Lane?

  Karen Marie Moning

  Strong, Lying, People

  Karen Marie Moning (2016). “The Fever Series 7-Book Bundle: Darkfever, Bloodfever, Faefever, Dreamfever, Shadowfever, Iced, Burned”, p.864, Dell

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• Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate! O any thing, of nothing first create! O heavy lightness, serious vanity, Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms, Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health, Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! This love feel I, that feel no love in this.

  William Shakespeare

  Hate, Unrequited Love, Sleep

  William Shakespeare (2008). “Romeo and Juliet”, p.40, Barron's Educational Series

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• The to Cathal was battered and only one wagon wide, with swells of hard earth where mud had frozen during cold ad rainy seasons. Enna tripped often, and cursed each time she tripped, until Dasha said, "Enna, you might watch your language." Enna grimaced. "I was. You should hear my thoughts.

  Shannon Hale

  Watches, Frozen, Earth

  Shannon Hale (2010). “Forest Born”, p.79, A&C Black

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• Detection is, or ought to be, an exact science and should be treated in the same cold and unemotional manner. You have attempted to tinge it with romanticism, which produces much the same effect as if you worked a love-story ... Some facts should be suppressed, or, at least, a just sense of proportion should be observed in treating them. The only point in the case which deserved mention was the curious analytical reasoning from effects to causes, by which I succeeded in unravelling it.'' —Sherlock Holmes on John Watson's "pamphlet", "A Study in Scarlet".

  Arthur Conan Doyle

  Stories, Causes, Facts

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• Blue Face Disgusting taste Flush it Shush it Cold disgrace

  Wendelin Van Draanen

  Blue, Taste, Faces

  Wendelin Van Draanen (2008). “Runaway”, p.19, Laurel Leaf

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