Fallen Quotes - Page 17

• Pride goeth before the fall....but you've already fallen, haven't you?

  Melissa Marr

  Fall, Pride, Havens

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• Sonnet XXV Before I loved you, love, nothing was my own: I wavered through the streets, among Objects: Nothing mattered or had a name: The world was made of air, which waited. I knew rooms full of ashes, Tunnels where the moon lived, Rough warehouses that growled 'get lost', Questions that insisted in the sand. Everything was empty, dead, mute, Fallen abandoned, and decayed: Inconceivably alien, it all Belonged to someone else - to no one: Till your beauty and your poverty Filled the autumn plentiful with gifts.

  Pablo Neruda

  Autumn, Moon, Tunnels

  Pablo Neruda, “Sonnet XXV”

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• The floor seemed wonderfully solid. It was comforting to know I had fallen and could fall no farther.

  Sylvia Plath

  Fall, Comforting, Bell Jar

  Sylvia Plath (2016). “The Bell Jar”, p.25, Hamilton Books

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• At the beginning of human history, as we struggled to light fires and to chisel fallen trees into rudimentary canoes, who could have predicted that long after we had managed to send men to the moon and areoplanes to Australasia, we would still have such trouble knowing how to tolerate ourselves, forgive our loved ones, and apologise for our tantrums?

  Alain de Botton

  Moon, Men, Light

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• Her eyes take on that suspicious, wounded look girls get when they know they've fallen off the top rung of friendship and someone else has passed them, but they don't know when or how the change took place.

  Libba Bray

  Girl, Eye, Looks

  Libba Bray (2010). “A Great and Terrible Beauty”, p.77, Simon and Schuster

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• Darkness as well as light. Or do I mean darkness, another kind of light? Lucifer would say so, and I have a weakness for fallen angels.

  Jeanette Winterson

  Sympathy, Mean, Angel

  Jeanette Winterson (1995). “Art & Lies: A Piece for Three Voices and a Bawd”, Knopf

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• I read and I read; and I was like a medieval king, I had fallen in love with the picture long before I saw the reality.

  John Fowles

  Kings, Reality, Long

  John Fowles (1965). “The Magus”

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• We are cut, we are fallen. We are become part of that unfeeling universe that sleeps when we are at our quickest and burns red when we lie asleep.

  Virginia Woolf

  Lying, Sleep, Cutting

  Virginia Woolf (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Virginia Woolf (Illustrated)”, p.1444, Delphi Classics

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• Why are we worn out? Why do we, who start out so passionate, brave, noble, believing, become totally bankrupt by the age of thirty or thirty-five? Why is it that one is extinguished by consumption, another puts a bullet in his head, a third seeks oblivion in vodka, cards, a fourth, in order to stifle fear and anguish, cynically tramples underfoot the portrait of his pure, beautiful youth? Why is it that, once fallen, we do not try to rise, and, having lost one thing, we do not seek another? Why?

  Anton Chekhov

  Beautiful, Believe, Lost Ones

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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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• Even as she’d come to know the real Ralston—the Ralston who was not cut from heroic cloth—Callie had failed to see the truth. And, instead of seeing her own heartbreak coming, she had fallen in love, not with her fantasy, but with this new, flawed Ralston.

  Sarah MacLean

  Real, Cutting, Heroic

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• His hands slipped from his throat, and he crashed to the ground like a tree falling. "Oh, dear," said Pangborn, gazing at the fallen body of his comrade with fastidious distaste. "How unpleasant.

  Cassandra Clare

  Fall, Hands, Tree

  Cassandra Clare (2011). “Cassandra Clare: The Mortal Instrument Series (4 books): City of Bones; City of Ashes; City of Glass; City of Fallen Angels”, p.375, Simon and Schuster

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• Love knows no limit to its endurance, no end to its trust, no fading of its hope; it can outlast anything. Love still stands when all else has fallen.

  Blaise Pascal

  Endurance, Fading, Limits

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• George had turned at the sound of her arrival. For a moment he contemplated her, as one who had fallen out of heaven. He saw radiant joy in her face, he saw the flowers beat against her dress in blue waves. The bushes above them closed. He stepped quickly forward and kissed her. Before she could speak, almost before she could feel, a voice called 'Lucy! Lucy! Lucy!' The silence of life had been broken by Miss Bartlett, who stood brown against the view.

  E. M. Forster

  Flower, Blue, Views

  E. M. Forster (2016). “A Room With A View: England Literature”, p.60, 谷月社

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• My city. I pondered that phrase, wondered why Barrons felt that way. He never said “our world.” He always said “your world.” But he called Dublin his city. Merely because he'd been in it so long? Or had Barrons, like me, been beguiled by her tawdry grace, fallen for her charm and colorful dualities? I looked around “my” bookstore. That was what I called it. Did we call the things of our heart our own, whether they were or not?

  Karen Marie Moning

  Heart, Our World, Cities

  "Dreamfever". Book by Karen Marie Moning, August 18, 2009.

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• I'd ridden to school with Link every day since kindergarten, when we became best friends after he gave me half his Twinkie on the bus. I only found out later it had fallen on the floor.

  Kami Garcia

  School, Half, Links

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• Have you fallen in love, Will Henry?" "That's stupid." "What is? Love, or my question?" "I don't know." "You don't know? You've tried that trick once. What do you suppose it will work better the second time?" "I don't love her. She bothers me." "You have just defined the very thing you denied.

  Rick Yancey

  Stupid, What Is Love, Tricks

  Rick Yancey (2011). “The Monstrumologist: The Isle of Blood”, p.420, Simon and Schuster

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• Simon-But werewolfs don't like our kind! Jordan-I do. It's his kind I don't like. They think they're better than everyone else. Jace-No, I think I'm better than everybody else. City of Fallen Angels- Jace, Simon, and Jordan.

  Cassandra Clare

  Angel, Thinking, Cities

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• That's enough of that," Jesse said. Next thing I knew, he'd scooped me up. Only instead of carrying me to my bed and setting me down on it all romantically, you know, like guys do to girls in the movies, he just dumped me onto it, so I bounced around and would have fallen off if I hadn't grabbed the edge of the mattress. "Thanks," I said, not quite able to keep all of the sarcasm out of my voice.

  Meg Cabot

  Girl, Sarcasm, Voice

  Meg Cabot (2009). “Grave Doubts”, p.130, Pan Macmillan

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• What a joke! Poor little rich girl's fallen in love with the Republic's most famous criminal.

  Marie Lu

  Girl, Criminals, Republic

  Marie Lu (2011). “Legend”, p.181, Penguin

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• I’d know you in the dark,” he said. “From a thousand miles away. There’s nothing you could become that I haven’t already fallen in love with.

  Rainbow Rowell

  Dark, Miles, Said

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• ...there was practically one handwriting common to the whole school when it came to writing lines. It resembled the movements of a fly that had fallen into an ink-pot, and subsequently taken a little brisk exercise on a sheet of foolscap by way of restoring the circulation.

  P. G. Wodehouse

  Taken, Writing, School

  P. G. Wodehouse (2009). “The Politeness of Princes: And Other School Stories: Easyread Super Large 20pt Edition”, p.117, ReadHowYouWant.com

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• Yes, she doesn't really look like either of us, does she? Perhaps she's a girl who's fallen madly in love with me and persists in following me wherever I go." "My talent is shape-shifting, Will, not acting," said Tessa, and at that Jem laughed out loud.

  Cassandra Clare

  Girl, Acting, Doe

  Cassandra Clare (2011). “Clockwork Prince”, p.87, Simon and Schuster

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• The trees bathed their great heads in the waves of the morning, while their roots were planted deep in gloom; save where on the borders of the sunshine broke against their stems, or swept in long streams through their avenues, washing with brighter hue all the leaves over which it flowed; revealing the rich brown of the dacayed leaves and fallen pine-cones, and the delicate greens of the long grasses and tiny forests of moss that covered the channel over which it passed in the motionless rivers of light.

  George MacDonald

  Morning, Sunshine, Light

  George Macdonald (2013). “The Princess Treasury”, p.341, Simon and Schuster

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• She had fallen in love with him twice. She loved him now with both loves, so overpowering it was almost unbearable.

  Laini Taylor

  Unbearable, Overpowering

  Laini Taylor (2011). “Daughter of Smoke and Bone: Daughter of Smoke and Bone Trilogy”, p.245, Hachette UK

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