Sand Quotes - Page 24

• I could run nearly naked on a hot, windy beach and plunge without care into a running diamond sea; roll on the sand and fling my arms wide to the sun and still be what I was...young.

  Anne Rivers Siddons

  Running, Beach, Sea

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• Bastian had climbed a dune of purplish-red sand and all around him he saw nothing but hill after hill of every imaginable color. Each hill revealed a shade or tint that occured in no other. The nearest was cobalt blue, another was saffron yellow, then came crimson red, then indigo, apple green, sky blue, orange, peach, mauve, turquoise blue, lilac, moss green, ruby red, burnt umber, Indian yellow, vermillion, lapis lazuli, and so on from horizon to horizon. And between the hill, separating color from color, flowed streams of gold and silver sand.

  Michael Ende

  Blue, Color, Sky

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• When we think of friends, and call their faces out of the shadows, and their voices out of the echoes that faint along the corridors of memory, and do it without knowing why save that we love to do it, we content ourselves that that friendship is a Reality, and not a Fancy--that it is builded upon a rock, and not upon the sands that dissolve away with the ebbing tides and carry their monuments with them.

  Mark Twain

  Memories, Reality, Thinking

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• Readers may be divided into four classes: 1) Sponges, who absorb all that they read and return it in nearly the same state, only a little dirtied. 2) Sand-glasses, who retain nothing and are content to get through a book for the sake of getting through the time. 3) Strain-bags, who retain merely the dregs of what they read. 4) Mogul diamonds, equally rare and valuable, who profit by what they read, and enable others to profit by it also

  Samuel Taylor Coleridge

  Book, Reading, Glasses

  Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1856). “Seven Lectures on Shakespeare and Milton: A List of All the Ms. Emendations in Mr. Collier's Folio, 1632”, p.13

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• You have wakened not out of sleep, but into a prior dream, and that dream lies within another, and so on, to infinity, which is the number of grains of sand. The path that you are to take is endless, and you will die before you have truly awakened.

  Jorge Luis Borges

  Dream, Lying, Sleep

  Jorge Luis Borges, Andrew Hurley (2004). “Aleph and other stories”, Penguin Classics

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• Do you know how sometimes - when you are riding your bike and you start skidding across sand, or when you miss a step and start tumbling down the stairs - you have those long, long seconds to know that you are going to be hurt, and badly?

  Jodi Picoult

  Hurt, Riding Your Bike, Tumbling Down

  Jodi Picoult (2009). “My Sister's Keeper: A Novel”, p.218, Simon and Schuster

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• Don't think about what you've left behind. If what one finds is made of pure matter, it will never spoil. And one can always come back. If what you had found was only a moment of light, like the explosion of a star, you would find nothing on your return.

  Paulo Coelho

  Stars, Boys, Thinking

  "The Alchemist". Book by Paulo Coelho, 1988.

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• Nobody can claim the name of Pedro, nobody is Rosa or María, all of us are dust or sand, all of us are rain under rain. They have spoken to me of Venezuelas, of Chiles and Paraguays; I have no idea what they are saying. I know only the skin of the earth and I know it has no name.

  Pablo Neruda

  Rain, Dust, Names

  Milton Rogovin, Pablo Neruda, Dennis Maloney, Robert Bly (1985). “Windows that open inward: images of Chile”, White Pine Pr

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• She worked her toes into the sand, feeling the tiny delicious pain of the friction of tiny chips of silicon against the tender flesh between her toes. That's life. It hurts, it's dirty, and it feels very, very good.

  Orson Scott Card

  Hurt, Pain, Dirty

  Orson Scott Card, Scott Orson (1997). “Children of the Mind”, Turtleback Books

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• Los Angeles, give me some of you! Los Angeles come to me the way I came to you, my feet over your streets, you pretty town I loved you so much, you sad flower in the sand, you pretty town!

  John Fante

  Flower, Feet, Giving

  John Fante (2002). “Ask The Dust”, p.3, Canongate Books

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• The passing of armies and the passing of sands in the desert are one.

  Cormac McCarthy

  Army, Desert, Passing

  Cormac McCarthy (2013). “The Border Trilogy”, p.424, Pan Macmillan

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• It's a good thing to have all the props pulled out from under us occasionally. It gives us some sense of what is rock under our feet, and what is sand.

  Madeleine L'Engle

  Faith, Peace, Ubuntu

  Madeleine L'Engle (2016). “The Summer of the Great-Grandmother”, p.15, Open Road Media

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• Moonflowers blossom in the sand hills before dawn, just as I followed him.

  Leslie Marmon Silko

  Dawn, Hills

  Leslie Marmon Silko, Melody Graulich (1993). “Yellow Woman”, p.15, Rutgers University Press

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• Then take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind, Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves, The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach, Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow. Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free, Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands, With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves, Let me forget about today until tomorrow.

  Bob Dylan

  Beach, Memories, Crazy

  "Mr. Tambourine Man" (song) (1964)

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• Happy. Just in my swim shorts, barefooted, wild-haired, in the red fire dark, singing, swigging wine, spitting, jumping, running—that's the way to live. All alone and free in the soft sands of the beach by the sigh of the sea out there, with the Ma-Wink fallopian virgin warm stars reflecting on the outer channel fluid belly waters. And if your cans are redhot and you can't hold them in your hands, just use good old railroad gloves, that's all.

  Jack Kerouac

  Happiness, Running, Beach

  Jack Kerouac (1986). “The Dharma Bums”, p.7, Penguin

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• How massively the mountains stand, while low to the ground the sand blows. The sand blows on and on. And then there are no mountains, none at all, the sand has kissed and whispered them away. And still, the sand blows on.

  Tanith Lee

  Blow, Mountain, Lows

  Tanith Lee (1987). “Tales from the Flat Earth: Night's Daughter”

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• I don't care what is written," Meyer Landsman says. "I don't care what supposedly got promised to some sandal-wearing idiot whose claim to fame is that he was ready to cut his own son's throat for the sake of a hare-brained idea. I don't care about red heifers and patriarchs and locusts. A bunch of old bones in the sand. My homeland is in my hat. It's in my ex-wife's tote bag.

  Michael Chabon

  Son, Cutting, Ideas

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• I am convinced that the greatest legacy we can leave our children are happy memories: those precious moments so much like pebbles on the beach that are plucked from the white sand and placed in tiny boxes that lay undisturbed on tall shelves until one day they spill out and time repeats itself, with joy and sweet sadness, in the child now an adult.

  Og Mandino

  Beach, Sweet, Memories

  Og Mandino (2011). “The Choice: A Surprising New Message of Hope”, p.103, Bantam

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• For hundreds of millions of years, Sex was the most efficient method for propagating information of dubious provenance: the origins of all those snippets of junk DNA are lost in the sands of reproductive history. Move aside, Sex: the world-wide Web has usurped your role.

  Seth Lloyd

  Sex, Moving, Dna

  "Move Aside, Sex". The Edge Annual Question — 2010: "How Is the Internet Changing the Way You Think?", www.edge.org. 2010.

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• Keep your hands open, and all the sands of the desert can pass through them. Close them, and all you can feel is a bit of grit.

  Taisen Deshimaru

  Inspirational, Hands, Grit

  "Zen to Go" by Jon Winokur, (p. 126), 1989.

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• Many words will be written on the wind and the sand, or end up in some obscure digital vault. But the storytelling will go on until the last human being stops listening. Then we can send the great chronicle of humanity out into the endless universe.

  Henning Mankell

  Wind, Humanity, Listening

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• And when we draw lines in the sand with regard to certain basic things that are vital to our interest and to the interest of democracy and our friends around the world, we have to be willing to back that up

  Fred Thompson

  Friends, Democracy, World

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• The Realization of the Nondual traditions is uncompromising: There is only Spirit, there is only God, there is only Emptiness in all its radiant wonder. All the good and all the evil, the very best and the very worst, the upright and the degenerate- each and all are radically perfect manifestations of Spirit precisely as they are. There is nothing but God, nothing but the Goddess, nothing but Spirit in all directions, and not a grain of sand, not a speck of dust, is more or less Spirit than any other.

  Ken Wilber

  Dust, Evil, Perfect

  Ken Wilber (2001). “The Eye of Spirit: An Integral Vision for a World Gone Slightly Mad”, p.290, Shambhala Publications

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• I want to be a taxidermist! I wanna fill animals with sand. I wanna get more sand into an animal than anybody has ever bloody got in one. I wanna fill a rat with the entire Gobi Desert, so it’s really quite tight.

  Eddie Izzard

  Animal, Desert, Want

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• If you see the humanity in the world, grains of sand that bring everything to a halt - corruption, clashes of egos, human factors more than resources. So, how to avoid that? There’s a lack of human maturity. So it’s not been a fertile exercise to perfect yourself to some extent before you serve others, otherwise it’s like cutting the wheat when it’s still green. And nobody is fed by that. So we need a minimum of readiness to efficiently and wisely be at the service of others. So compassion needs also to be sort of enlightened by wisdom. Otherwise, it’s blind.

  Matthieu Ricard

  Cutting, Exercise, Maturity

  "The Happiest Man in the World". "Speaking of Faith" with Krista Tippett, onbeing.org. November 12, 2009.

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