Rising Quotes - Page 14

• We are told that the trouble with modern man is that he has been trying to detach himself from nature... In this scenario, Man comes on as a stupendous lethal force, and the Earth is pictured as something delicate, like rising bubbles at the surface of a country pond, or flights of fragile birds.

  Lewis Thomas

  Country, Men, Bird

  Lewis Thomas (1990). “A Long Line of Cells Collected Essays”

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• When people are told to "eat many small meals," what they may actually hear is "eat all the time," making them likely to respond with some degree of compulsive overeating. It's no coincidence, I think, that obesity rates began rising rapidly in the 1980s more or less in tandem with this widespread endorsement of more frequent meals.

  Andrew Weil

  Thinking, People, Degrees

  "Intermittent Fasting: A Healthy Choice" by Dr. Andrew Weil, www.huffingtonpost.com. June 6, 2012.

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• The great and important duty which is incumbent on Christians, is to guard against all appearance of evil; to watch against the first risings in the heart to evil; and to have a guard upon our actions, that they may not be sinful, or so much as seem to be so.

  George Whitefield

  Christian, Heart, Evil

  George Whitefield, Samuel Dres, Joseph Smith (1841). “Sermons on important subjects”, p.234

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• The Negroes are facing the alternative of rising in the sphere of production to supply their proportion of the manufacturers and merchants or of going down to the graves of paupers.

  Carter G. Woodson

  Alternatives, Spheres, Graves

  Carter G. Woodson (2006). “The Mis-Education of the Negro”, p.107, Book Tree

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• The American Dream, coupled with government subsidies of utilities and cheap consumer goods courtesy of slave labour somewhere else, has kept the poor huddled masses from rising up.

  Elizabeth Wurtzel

  Dream, Government, Somewhere Else

  "America, land of the free to be stupid" by Elizabeth Wurtzel, www.theguardian.com. November 5, 2010.

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• By international standards, many of the U.K.'s policies for civil society are exemplary. However, there are concerns about constraints on civil liberties - particularly restrictions on free assembly and about the rising tide of everyday regulation has seriously impeded community activity - from organising street parties to helping children.

  Geoff Mulgan

  Children, Party, Community

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• The leaves streamed down, trembling in the sun. They were not green, only a few, scattered through the torrent, stood out in single drops of green so bright and pure that it hurt the eyes; the rest were not a color, but a light, the substance of fire on metal, living sparks without edges. And it looked as if the forest were a spread of light boiling slowly to produce this color, the green rising in small bubbles, the condensed essence of spring. The trees met, blending over the road and the spots of sun on the ground moved with the shifting of the branches, like a conscious caress.

  Ayn Rand

  Hurt, Spring, Eye

  Ayn Rand (2005). “The Fountainhead”, p.480, Penguin

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• I took her hand in mine, and we went out of the ruined place; and, as the morning mists had risen long ago when I first left the forge, so, the evening mists were rising now, and in all the broad expanse of tranquil light they showed to me, I saw no shadow of another parting from her.

  Charles Dickens

  Morning, Light, Long Ago

  Great Expectations ch. 59 (1862 ed.)

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• A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, And the dry stone no sound of water. Only There is shadow under this red rock, (Come in under the shadow of this red rock), And I will show you something different from either Your shadow at morning striding behind you Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you; I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

  T. S. Eliot

  Morning, Fear, Rocks

  The Waste Land l. 25 (1922)

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• Sweet to think on it, that when we are last weary of all this world there is the rising sun

  Anne Rice

  Sweet, Thinking, World

  Anne Rice (2013). “The Complete Vampire Chronicles 12-Book Bundle”, p.3023, Ballantine Books

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• When I heard the learn’d astronomer; When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me; When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them; When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room, How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick; Till rising and gliding out, I wander’d off by myself, In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time, Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.

  Walt Whitman

  Time, Stars, Learning

  Walt Whitman (2015). “Drum-Taps: The Complete 1865 Edition”, p.42, New York Review of Books

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• When we traded homemaking for careers, we were implicitly promised economic independence and worldly influence. But a devil of a bargain it has turned out to be in terms of daily life. We gave up the aroma of warm bread rising, the measured pace of nurturing routines, the creative task of molding our families' tastes and zest for life; we received in exchange the minivan and the Lunchable.

  Barbara Kingsolver

  Zest, Careers, Creative

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• The eye of a man should be still more reverent before the rising of a young maiden than before the rising of a star. The possibility of touch should increase respect. The down of the peach, the dust of the plum, the radiated crystal of snow, the butterfly’s wing powdered with feathers, are gross things beside that chastity that does not even know it is chaste. The young maiden is only the glimmer of a dream and is not yet statue. Her alcove is hidden in the shadows of the ideal. The indiscreet touch of the eye desecrates this dim penumbra. Here, to gaze, is to profane.

  Victor Hugo

  Dream, Stars, Butterfly

  Victor Hugo (1987). “Les Misérables”, Signet Classics

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• ...."the sound of a barrel organ rising from the deepest golden vein of the day; two or three bars of a chorus, played on a distant piano over and over again, melting in the sun on the white pavement, lost in the fire of high noon.

  Bruno Schulz

  Fire, Two, Piano

  Bruno Schulz (1963). “Cinnamon Shops: And Other Stories”

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• The society to which we belong seems to be dying or is already dead. I don't mean to sound dramatic, but clearly the dark side is rising. Things could not have been more odd and frightening in the Middle Ages. But the tradition of artists will continue no matter what form the society takes. And this is another reason to write: people need us, to mirror for them and for each other without distortion-not to look around and say, 'Look at yourselves, you idiots!,' but to say, 'This is who we are.

  Anne Lamott

  Mean, Writing, Dark

  Anne Lamott (2007). “Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life”, p.234, Anchor

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• We slept in the same bed. There was never a right time to say it. It was always unnecessary. The books in my father's shed were sighing. The sheets were rising and falling around me with Anna's breathing. I thought about waking her. but it was unnecessary. There would be other nights. And how can you say I love you to someone you love? I rolled onto my side and fell asleep next to her. Here is the point of everything I have been trying to tell you... It's always necessary. I love you.

  Jonathan Safran Foer

  Father, Book, Fall

  Jonathan Safran Foer (2013). “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close: A Novel”, p.314, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Well. Then we had the irises, rising beautiful and cool on their tall stalks, like blown glass, like pastel water momentarily frozen in a splash, light blue, light mauve, and the darker ones, velvet and purple, black cat's ears in the sun, indigo shadow, and the bleeding hearts, so female in shape it was a surprise they'd not long since been rooted out. There is something subversive about this garden of Serena's, a sense of buried things bursting upwards, wordlessly, into the light, as if to point, to say: Whatever is silenced will clamor to be heard, though silently.

  Margaret Atwood

  Beautiful, Cat, Heart

  Margaret Atwood (1986). “The Handmaid's Tale”, p.153, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Out of doubt, out of dark to the day's rising I came singing into the sun, sword unsheathing. To hope's end I rode and to heart's breaking: Now for wrath, now for ruin and a red nightfall!

  J. R. R. Tolkien

  Heart, Dark, Wrath

  J.R.R. Tolkien (2012). “The Return of the King: Being the Third Part of the Lord of the Rings”, p.76, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• It was her first book, an indigo cover with a silver moonflower, an art nouveau flower, I traced my finger along the silver line like smoke, whiplash curves. ... I touched the pages her hands touched, I pressed them to my lips, the soft thick old paper, yellow now, fragile as skin. I stuck my nose between the bindings and smelled all the readings she had given, the smell of unfiltered cigarettes and the espresso machine, beaches and incense and whispered words in the night. I could hear her voice rising from the pages. The cover curled outward like sails.

  Janet Fitch

  Beach, Art, Flower

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• I felt like an undeveloped photograph that he was printing, my image rising to the surface under his gaze.

  Janet Fitch

  Photograph, Printing, Surface

  Janet Fitch (2002). “White Oleander”, Large Print Press

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• This is a valley of ashes--a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and, finally, with a transcendent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air. Occasionally a line of gray cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak, and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-gray men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud, which screens their obscure operations from your sight.

  F. Scott Fitzgerald

  Moving, Men, Garden

  F. Scott Fitzgerald, Book House (2016). “F. Scott Fitzgerald: The Complete Novels (Book House)”, p.393, Book House

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• No, nothing can change my world --Ichigo Kurosaki, Black Moon Rising

  Tite Kubo

  Moon, Black, World

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• So what about me? Would I always have to find a high horse? The moral relish, the rising above, the being in the right, which can make me flaunt my losses.

  Alice Munro

  Horse, Loss, Moral

  Alice Munro (2013). “The Love Of A Good Woman”, Random House

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• Yet suppose further. Suppose that all worlds, all universes, met at a single nexus, a single pylon, a Tower. And within it, a stairway, perhaps rising to the Godhead itself. Would you dare climb to the top, gunslinger? Could it be that somewhere above all of endless reality, there exists a room?...' You dare not.' And in the gunslinger's mind, those words echoed: You dare not.

  Stephen King

  Reality, Mind, Towers

  Stephen King (2016). “The Dark Tower I: The Gunslinger”, p.217, Simon and Schuster

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• Humans need fantasy to be human. To be the place where the falling angel meets the rising ape.

  Terry Pratchett

  Fall, Angel, Needs

  Terry Pratchett (2008). “Hogfather: (Discworld Novel 20)”, p.408, Random House

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