Golden Quotes - Page 18

• His hand closed automatically around the fake Horcrux but in spite of everything, in spite of the dark and twisting path he saw stretching ahead for himself, in spite of the final meeting with Voldemort he knew must come whether in a month in a year or in ten, he felt his heart lift at the thought that there was still one last golden day of peace left to enjoy with Ron and Hermione.

  J. K. Rowling

  Heart, Dark, Golden Days

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• No mockery in this world ever sounds to me so hollow as that of being told to cultivate happiness. What does such advice mean? Happiness is not a potato, to be planted in mould, and tilled with manure. Happiness is a glory shining far down upon us out of Heaven. She is a divine dew which the soul, on certain of its summer mornings, feels dropping upon it from the amaranth bloom and golden fruitage of Paradise.

  Charlotte Bronte

  Summer, Morning, Mean

  "Villette". Book by Charlotte Bronte, Ch. XXII: The Letter, 1853.

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• Who are you?' Mo looked at the White Women. Then he looked at Dustfinger's still face. Guess.' The bird ruffled up its golden feathers, and Mo saw that the mark on its breast was blood. You are Death.' Mo felt the word heavy on his tongue. Could any word be heavier?

  Cornelia Funke

  Blood, White, Bird

  Cornelia Funke (2011). “Inkdeath”, p.225, Scholastic Inc.

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• She sat down on one of her grandmother's uncomfortable armchairs, and the cat sprang up into her lap and made itself comfortable. The light that came through the picture window was daylight, real golden late-afternoon daylight, not a white mist light. The sky was a robin's-egg blue, and Coraline could see trees and, beyond the trees, green hills, which faded on the horizon into purples and grays. The sky had never seemed so sky, the world had never seemed so world ... Nothing, she thought, had ever been so interesting.

  Neil Gaiman

  Real, Cat, Grandmother

  Neil Gaiman (2012). “Coraline”, p.162, A&C Black

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• I am the planet's most affectionate life-form, something like the cross between a golden retriever and a barnacle.

  Elizabeth Gilbert

  Golden Retrievers, Crosses, Form

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• The golden rule for understanding spiritually is not intellect, but obedience. If a man wants scientific knowledge, intellectual curiosity is his guide; but if he wants insight into what Jesus Christ teaches, he can only get it by obedience.

  Oswald Chambers

  Jesus, Men, Understanding

  Oswald Chambers (1935). “The Golden Book of Oswald Chambers: My Utmost for His Highest; Selections for the Year”

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• I give you the end of a golden string, Only wind it into a ball, It will lead you in at Heaven's gate Built in Jerusalem's wall.

  William Blake

  Wall, Wind, Giving

  "I give you the end of a golden string" (1815)

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• So this is what I will do. I will gather together my past and look. I will see a thing that has already happened. the pain that cut my spirit loose. I will hold that pain in my hand until it becomes hard and shiny, more clear. And then my fierceness can come back, my golden side, my black side. I will use this sharp pain to penetrate my daughter's tough skin and cut her tiger spirit loose. She will fight me, because this is the nature of two tigers. But I will win and giver her my spirit, because this is the way a mother loves her daughter.

  Amy Tan

  Mother, Daughter, Pain

  Amy Tan (2006). “The Joy Luck Club”, p.252, Penguin

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• The real story of the Fleece: there were these two children of Zeus, Cadmus and Europa, okay? They were about to get offered up as human sacrifices, when they prayed to Zeus to save them. So Zeus sent this magical flying ram with golden wool, which picked them up in Greece and carried them all the way to Colchis in Asia Minor. Well, actually it carried Cadmus. Europa fell off and died along the way, but that's not important." "It was probably important to her.

  Rick Riordan

  Children, Real, Sacrifice

  Rick Riordan (2007). “The Sea of Monsters”, Disney-Hyperion

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• Were all on a golden journey-every one of us. A journey inspired by golden dreams, and at the end awaits a golden crown of righteousness....please remember that every step is to be cherished. Every single one.

  Chris Heimerdinger

  Dream, Journey, Crowns

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• Your name is a golden bell hung in my heart. I would break my body to pieces to call you once by your name.

  Peter S. Beagle

  Heart, Names, Pieces

  Peter S. Beagle (2003). “A fine and private place: The last unicorn”

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• The evening light was like honey in the trees When you left me and walked to the end of the street Where the sunset abruptly ended. The wedding-cake drawbridge lowered itself To the fragile forget-me-not flower. You climbed aboard. Burnt horizons suddenly paved with golden stones, Dreams I had, including suicide, Puff out the hot-air balloon now. It is bursting, it is about to burst

  John Ashbery

  Suicide, Dream, Flower

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• A God who counts minutes and pennies, a desperate sensual God, who grunts like a pig. A pig with golden wings, who falls and falls, always belly side up, ready for caresses, that’s him, our master. Come, kiss me.

  Louis-Ferdinand Celine

  Fall, Kissing, Pigs

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• Are you the one with the blue eyes?" "Actually, my eyes are usually described as golden...and luminous.

  Cassandra Clare

  Eye, Blue, Luminous

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• Hellooo.” I held out my arm. “An amethyst woman with blue hair is telling you this.” She reached out and scraped her short nails over my arm. I snatched my arm back. “Ow.” Not body makeup.” She frowned and peered at the roots of my hair. “A good die-job or you’ve really got blue hair.” For now,” I said. “I’m half Drow.” She raised an eyebrow. Dark Elves.” Uh-huhhhh.” During the day I look normal, like you.” With an amused look she held up her arm, showing her dark, golden skin. “You’re Kenyan and Puerto Rican?

  Cheyenne McCray

  Jobs, Dark, Makeup

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• The King beneath the mountains, The King of carven stone, The lord of silver fountains Shall come into his own! His crown shall be upholden, His harp shall be restrung, His halls shall echo golden To songs of yore re-sung. The woods shall wave on mountains. And grass beneath the sun; His wealth shall flow in fountains And the rivers golden run. The streams shall run in gladness, The lakes shall shine and burn, And sorrow fail and sadness At the Mountain-king’s return!

  J. R. R. Tolkien

  Running, Song, Kings

  J. R. R. Tolkien, “The King”

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• I like autumn. The drama of it; the golden lion roaring through the back door of the year, shaking its mane of leaves. A dangerous time; of violent rages and deceptive calm, of fireworks in the pockets and conkers in the fist.

  Joanne Harris

  Drama, Autumn, Doors

  Joanne Harris (2005). “Gentlemen and players”, Doubleday UK

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• We are faithful not to the triumphant golden eagle (ironically, also an imperial symbol of power in Rome) but to the slaughtered Lamb.

  Shane Claiborne

  Eagles, Rome, Faithful

  Shane Claiborne (2010). “The Irresistible Revolution: Living As an Ordinary Radical”, p.149, ReadHowYouWant.com

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• From his soft fur, golden and brown, Goes out so sweet a scent, one night I might have been embalmed in it By giving him one little pet. He is my household's guardian soul; He judges, he presides, inspires All matters in his royal realm; Might he be fairy? or a god? When my eyes, to this cat I love Drawn as by a magnet's force, Turn tamely back upon that appeal, And when I look within myself, I notice with astonishment The fire of his opal eyes, Clear beacons glowing, living jewels, Taking my measure, steadily.

  Charles Baudelaire

  Sweet, Eye, Cat

  Charles Baudelaire, James N McGowan (2008). “The Flowers of Evil”, p.105, Oxford Paperbacks

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• He slouched back in his seat, looking tired, and leaned his face on his shoulder to look at me while he played with my hair. He started to hum a song, and then, after a few bars, he sang it. Quietly, sort of half-sung, half-spoken, incredibly gentle. I didn’t catch all the words, but it was about his summer girl. Me. Maybe his forever girl. His yellow eyes were half-lidded as he sang, and in that golden moment, hanging taut in the middle of an icecovered landscape like a single bubble of summer nectar, I could see how my life could be stretched out in front of me.

  Maggie Stiefvater

  Summer, Girl, Song

  Maggie Stiefvater (2014). “Shiver Series (Shiver, Linger, Forever, Sinner)”, p.248, Scholastic Inc.

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• Strange star-like object over Oslo right before Obama arrives. A gift of a golden medal given by a group of wise men... Nah.

  Craig Ferguson

  Wise, Jesus, Stars

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• Aw, fudge,' floated down to me, as a couple of golden eyes peered over a third-floor window ledge. 'You're a freaking dhampir. Why are you reading Tolkien?' I shrugged, then had to dodge the potted geranium he threw at me. 'After five hundred years, you've read just about everything. Besides, he had hella world-building skills.

  Karen Chance

  Couple, Reading, Eye

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• She bounded before me, and returned to my side, and was off again like a young greyhound; and, at first, I found plenty of entertaiment in listening to the larks singing far and near; and enjoying the sweet, warm sunshine; and watching her, my pet, and my delight, with her golden ringlets flying loose behind, and her bright cheek, as soft and pure in its bloom, as a wild rose, and her eyes radiant with cloudless pleasure. She was a happy creautre, and an angel in those those days. It is a pity she could not stay content.

  Emily Bronte

  Sweet, Eye, Angel

  "Wuthering Heights". Book by Emily Bronte, 1847.

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• But now, like a fallen sparrow On a golden chain, I'm forever bound in shadow, A prisoner to my pain.

  Walter Dean Myers

  Pain, Forever, Shadow

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• You tell yourself that noise is what defines silence. Without noise, silence would not be golden. Noise is the exception. Think of deep outer space, the incredible cold and quiet where your wife and kid wait. Silence, not heaven, would be reward enough.

  Chuck Palahniuk

  Kids, Thinking, Space

  "Lullaby". Book by Chuck Palahniuk, 2002.

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