Pluck Quotes - Page 5

• Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew; Nor did I wonder at the lily's white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose; They were but sweet, but figures of delight, Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.

  William Shakespeare

  Summer, Sweet, Flower

  William Shakespeare, William George CLARK, William Aldis Wright (1866). “The Globe Edition. The Works of William Shakespeare, Edited by W. G. Clark and W. Aldis Wright”, p.1040

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• Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.

  William Butler Yeats

  Kissing, Moon, Hands

  "The Song of Wandering Aengus" l. 19 (1899)

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• When something undesirable grows in my soul, I ask God to give me the courage to mercilessly pluck it out.

  Paulo Coelho

  Giving, Soul, Grows

  Paulo Coelho (2011). “Like the Flowing River: Thoughts and Reflections”, p.18, HarperCollins UK

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• What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eyes! Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red.” “My hands are of your colour; but I shame to wear a heart so white. A little water clears us of this deed: How easy it is then! Your constancy hath left you unattended.

  William Shakespeare

  Ocean, Heart, Eye

  'Macbeth' (1606) act 2, sc. 2, l. 61

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• Flowers, cold from the dew, And autumn's approaching breath, I pluck for the warm, luxuriant braids, Which haven't faded yet. In their nights, fragrantly resinous, Entwined with delightful mystery, They will breathe in her springlike Extraordinary beauty. But in a whirlwind of sound and fire, From her shing head they will flutter And fall—and before her They will die, faintly fragrant still. And, impelled by faithful longing, My obedient gaze will feast upon them— With a reverent hand, Love will gather their rotting remains.

  Anna Akhmatova

  Flower, Fall, Autumn

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• I have a plan.” He groaned. “I was afraid of that.” “My plans are not terrible.” “Isabelle’s plans are terrible.” He pointed a finger at her. “Your plans are suicidal. At best.” She sat back, her arms crossed over her chest. “Do you want to hear it or not? You have to keep it a secret.” “I would pluck out my own eyes with a fork before I would give away your secrets,” Simon said, then looked anxious. “Wait a second. Do you think that’s likely to be required?

  Cassandra Clare

  Suicidal, Eye, Thinking

  Cassandra Clare (2014). “City of Lost Souls”, p.138, Simon and Schuster

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• The world expected girls to pluck and primp and put on heels. Meanwhile, boys dressed in rumpled T-shirts and baggy pants and misplace their combs, and yet you were suppose to fall at their feet? Unacceptable.

  Libba Bray

  Girl, Fall, Boys

  Libba Bray (2011). “Beauty Queens”, p.241, Scholastic Inc.

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• I wonder where you got that idea from? I mean, the idea that it's feeble to change your mind once it's made up. That's a wrong idea, you know. Make up your mind about things, by all means - but if something happens to show that you are wrong, then it is feeble not to change your mind, Elizabeth. Only the strongest people have the pluck to change their minds, and say so, if they see they have been wrong in their ideas.

  Enid Blyton

  Mean, Ideas, People

  Enid Blyton (2015). “Naughtiest Girl Collection 1 (books 1-3)”, p.114, Hachette UK

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• Your mortal attachments are like a puppet’s strings," Avari said, both hands clasped casually at his back. "One need only pluck the right cord to make the puppet dance." His smile was almost creepier than his threats. "Dance, reaper!

  Rachel Vincent

  Attachment, Hands, Puppets

  Rachel Vincent (2013). “With All My Soul”, p.196, Harlequin

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• Life let us cherish, while yet the taper glows,
  And the fresh flow'ret pluck ere it close;
  Why are we fond of toil and care?
  Why choose the rankling thorn to wear?

  Johann Martin Usteri

  Life, Funeral, Toil

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• Happiness is to take up the struggle in the midst of the raging storm and not to pluck the lute in the moonlight or recite poetry among the blossoms.

  Ding Ling

  Happiness, Happy, Struggle

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• Flower in the crannied wall,
  I pluck you out of the crannies,
  I hold you here, root and all, in my hand,
  Little flower-but if I could understand
  What you are, root and all, all in all,
  I should know what God and man is.

  Alfred Lord Tennyson

  Nature, Wall, Spring

  Alfred Lord Tennyson, Walt Whitman (2010). “English Poetry III: Tennyson to Whitman: The Five Foot Shelf of Classics, Vol. XLII (in 51 Volumes)”, p.1039, Cosimo, Inc.

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• Let the minor genius go his light way and enjoy his life - the great nature cannot so live, he is never really in holiday mood, even though he often plucks flowers by the wayside and ties them into knots and garlands like little children and lays out on a sunny morning.

  William Butler Yeats

  Morning, Children, Flower

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• Pluck not the wayside flower;
  It is the traveler's dower.

  William Allingham

  Flower, Traveler

  William Allingham, Helen Paterson Allingham (1912). “Poems”

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• Where faith commences, science ends. Both these arts of the human mind must be strictly kept apart from each other. Faith has its origin in the poetic imagination; knowledge, on the other hand, originates in the reasoning intelligence of man. Science has to pluck the blessed fruits from the tree of knowledge, unconcerned whether these conquests trench upon the poetical imaginings of faith or not.

  Ernst Haeckel

  Faith, Art, Blessed

  Ernst Haeckel (1887). “The History of Creation, Or, The Development of the Earth and Its Inhabitants by the Action of Natural Causes: A Popular Exposition of the Doctrine of Evolution in General, and of that of Darwin, Goethe, and Lamarck in Particular”

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• Music can minister to minds diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, raze out the written troubles of the brain, and with its sweet oblivious antidote, cleanse the full bosom of all perilous stuff that weighs upon the heart.

  William Shakespeare

  Sweet, Memories, Inspiration

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• I never let anyone pluck, including myself, unless my mom approves. She guards my eyebrows. She's like the eyebrow police!

  Isabelle Fuhrman

  Mom, Eyebrows, Police

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• I focus on the elements of a movie that are meant to invisibly affect me as a viewer. The edges. As an author, Im aware of how the subconscious things can pluck at a readers emotions, and I love it when filmmakers do the same.

  Maggie Stiefvater

  Focus, Elements, Emotion

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• Macbeth: How does your patient, doctor? Doctor: Not so sick, my lord, as she is troubled with thick-coming fancies that keep her from rest. Macbeth: Cure her of that! Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, raze out the written troubles of the brain, and with some sweet oblivious antidote cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff which weighs upon her heart. Doctor: Therein the patient must minister to himself.

  William Shakespeare

  Sweet, Memories, Heart

  William Shakespeare (2009). “Four Tragedies: Hamlet, Othello, King Lear, Macbeth”, p.892, Bantam Classics

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• The harmony that holds the stars on their courses and the flesh on our bones resonates through all creation. Every sound contains its echo. Before there was humankind, or even forest, there was sound. Sound spread from the source in great circles like those formed when a stone is dropped in a pool. We follow waves of sound from life to life. A dying man’s ears will hear long after his eyes are blind. He hears the sound that leads him to his next life as the Source of All being plucks the harp of creation.

  Morgan Llywelyn

  Stars, Eye, Men

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• Petruchio: Come, come, you wasp; i' faith, you are too angry. Katherine: If I be waspish, best beware my sting. Petruchio: My remedy is then, to pluck it out. Katherine: Ay, if the fool could find where it lies. Petruchio: Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting? In his tail. Katherine: In his tongue. Petruchio: Whose tongue? Katherine: Yours, if you talk of tails: and so farewell. Petruchio: What, with my tongue in your tail? Nay, come again, Good Kate; I am a gentleman.

  William Shakespeare

  Lying, Farewell, Gentleman

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• I sometimes used to ask myself, what on earth did I love her for? Maybe fore the warm hazel iris of her fluffy eyes, or for the natural side-wave of her brown hair, done anyhow, or again for that movement of her plump shoulders. But, probably the truth was that I loved her because she loved me. To her I was the ideal man: brains, pluck. And there was none dressed better. I remember once, when I first put on that new dinner jacket, with the vast trousers, she clapsed her hands, sank down on a chair and murmured: 'Oh, Hermann...." It was ravishment bordering upon something like heavenly woe.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Eye, Men, Hair

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• Even as a very young man, I knew that my family is like a plant. Uproot it, and it will wilt. Pluck away at it, and it will die. But leave it to thrive in the soil, untouched, and it will weather both gods and winds. It is born with the soil, and it will live so long as the soil shall live.

  Etgar Keret

  Men, Wind, Weather

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• If you were Queen of pleasure And I were King of pain We'd hunt down Love together, Pluck out his flying-feather, And teach his feet a measure, And find his mouth a rein; If you were Queen of pleasure And I were King of pain.

  Algernon Charles Swinburne

  Queens, Kings, Pain

  Algernon Charles Swinburne, H. M. Burton (2014). “Selections from Swinburne”, p.10, Cambridge University Press

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• I find I am constantly being encouraged to pluck out some one aspect of myself and present this as the meaningful whole, eclipsing or denying the other parts of self.

  Audre Lorde

  Meaningful, Self, Aspect

  Audre Lorde (2012). “Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches”, p.120, Crossing Press

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