Sweet Quotes - Page 18

• Eyes watching always Shadows in shadows they wait A black feather falls First accepted, loved Then betrayed-spit in the face Vengeance sweet like dots.

  P. C. Cast

  Fall, Eye, Waiting

  P. C. Cast, Kristin Cast (2010). “Hunted: A House of Night Novel”, p.71, Macmillan

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• Should Disappointment, parent of Despair, Strive for her son to seize my careless heart; When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air, Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart: Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright, And fright him as the morning frightens night!

  John Keats

  Morning, Disappointment, Heart

  John Keats (1914*). “The complete poetical works and letters of John Keats”, p.6, Рипол Классик

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• I didn’t know how much I could love until you were gone. Until your laughter no longer filled my home, your wicked high jinks no longer made me crazy. Until I stood in that damned club and knew, without you by side, my life was as empty as my bed was without you in it. I didn’t know what love was, until I saw my refusal to admit it drown all the sweet innocence in your eyes. I love you.

  Lora Leigh

  Laughter, Crazy, Love You

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• Kate, don't be like that. You know I only did so well because I yearn-see, SAT word- to follow you to college and steal your heart." "Uh-huh. Too bad for you I don't plan on attending clown college." He grinned. "Only you would ignore the incredibly sweet thing I just said." "Only you would describe one of your asinine comments as incredibly sweet.

  Elizabeth Scott

  Heart, College, Stealing

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• It was always easier for me to show love than to say it. The word reminded me of pralines: small, precious, almost unbearable sweet. I would light up in his presence; I felt like a sun in the constellation of his embrace. But trying to put what I felt for him into words diminished it somehow, like pinning a butterfly under glass, or videotaping a comet.

  Jodi Picoult

  Butterfly, Glasses, Light

  Jodi Picoult (2009). “Handle with Care: A Novel”, p.207, Simon and Schuster

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• It was unnerving, the way she could go from cool efficiency to sarcastic to sweet within the space of thirty seconds. I found it very manipulative and controlling. It put the other person constantly on-guard. And it was extremely intimidating because you never knew when she was going to snap. I made a mental note to refine these skills within myself.

  Augusten Burroughs

  Sarcastic, Skills, Space

  Augusten Burroughs (2011). “Take Five: Four Favorite Essays Plus One Never-Been-Seen Essay: Four Favorite Essays Plus One Never-Been-Seen Essay”, p.40, Macmillan

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• He leaned close, rubbing his bearded cheek against my ear. 'And how about a sweet kiss, now, for the brave lads of the clan MacKenzie? Tulach Ard!' Erin go bragh,' I said rudely, and pushed with all my strength.

  Diana Gabaldon

  Kissing, Brave, Ears

  Diana Gabaldon (2015). “The Outlander Series Bundle: Books 1, 2, 3, and 4: Outlander, Dragonfly in Amber, Voyager, Drums of Autumn”, p.223, Delacorte Press

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• You asked me once if I would still love you when your lips were puckered with age and your eyes were faded. I can assure you that I will still love you when I have only the strength (and the scant teeth) left to gum those puckered lips. I shall love you when your bones are sharp enough to pierce my fragile flesh. I shall love you when the light in my own eyes fades for good and yours is the last sweet face I see. Because I am and ever shall be.

  Teresa Medeiros

  Love You, Eye, Light

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• You think she’ll be able to talk sense into him?” she asked. “His sister?” "If he listens to anyone, it would be her.” “That’s sweet,” said Maia. “That he loves his sister like that.” “Yeah,” Simon said. “It’s precious

  Cassandra Clare

  Thinking, Would Be, Able

  Cassandra Clare (2012). “Cassandra Clare: The Mortal Instruments Series (5 books): City of Bones; City of Ashes; City of Glass; City of Fallen Angels, City of Lost Souls”, p.513, Simon and Schuster

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• I love all things, not because they are passionate or sweet-smelling but because, I don't know, because this ocean is yours, and mine: these buttons and wheels and little forgotten treasures, fans upon whose feathers love has scattered its blossoms, glasses, knives and scissors -- all bear the trace of someone's fingers on their handle or surface, the trace of a distant hand lost in the depths of forgetfulness.

  Pablo Neruda

  Ocean, Glasses, Hands

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• My wife loves written words ... you know, words that stick to parchment and paper like dead flies, and it seems my father felt the same - but I want to hear words! Remember that when you are looking for the right words: You must ask yourself what they SOUND like! Glowing with passion, dark with sorrow, sweet with love, that's what I want. - Cosimo

  Cornelia Funke

  Father, Passion, Dark

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• Where is heaven? you ask me, my child,-the sages tell us it is beyond the limits of birth and death, unswayed by the rhythm of day and night; it is not of the earth. But your poet knows that its eternal hunger is for time and space, and it strives evermore to be born in the fruitful dust. Heaven is fulfilled in your sweet body, my child, in your palpitating heart. The sea is beating its drums in joy, the flowers are a-tiptoe to kiss you. For heaven is born in you, in the arms of the mother- dust.

  Rabindranath Tagore

  Mother, Children, Flower

  Rabindranath Tagore, “Lover's Gifts XLIV: Where Is Heaven”

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• To please a child is a sweet and lovely thing that warms one's heart and brings its own reward.

  L. Frank Baum

  Children, Heart, Lovely

  L. Frank Baum (2008). “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz”, p.9, Oxford Paperbacks

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• I begged her, 'Please don't leave me stranded in the middle of some primitive zarking forest with no medical help and a head injury. I could be in serious trouble and so could she.'" "What did she say?" "She hit me on the head with the rock again," Ford responded curtly. "I think i can confirm that was my daughter." "Sweet kid." "You have to get to know her," said Arthur. "She eases up, does she?" "No, but you get a better sense of when to duck.

  Douglas Adams

  Daughter, Kids, Thinking

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• What a name! Was it love or praise? Speech half-asleep or song half-awake? I must learn Spanish, one of these days, Only for that slow sweet name's sake.

  Robert Browning

  Song, Names, Half

  Robert Browning (1994). “The Works of Robert Browning”, p.210, Wordsworth Editions

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• To Hope "When by my solitary hearth I sit, And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom; When no fair dreams before my 'mind's eye' flit, And the bare heath of life presents no bloom; Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head.

  John Keats

  Dream, Eye, Soul

  John Keats (1841). “The poetical works of John Keats”, p.195

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• Sweet weeping baby Jesus he has a six-pack to beat all six-packs!

  P. C. Cast

  Baby, Jesus, Six Packs

  P. C. Cast (2008). “Warrior Rising”, p.112, Penguin

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• Marriage, which has been the bourne of so many narratives, is still a great beginning, as it was to Adam and Eve, who kept their honey-moon in Eden, but had their first little one among the thorns and thistles of the wilderness. It is still the beginning of the home epic - the gradual conquest or irremediable loss of that complete union which make the advancing years a climax, and age the harvest of sweet memories in common.

  George Eliot

  Memories, Home, Loss

  George Eliot (2015). “Middlemarch: (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition)”, p.542, Penguin

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• Most modern calendars mar the sweet simplicity of our lives by reminding us that each day that passes is the anniversary of some perfectly uninteresting event.

  Oscar Wilde

  Funny, Anniversary, Witty

  Oscar Wilde (2016). “A Critic in Pall Mall”, p.227, Oscar Wilde

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• Downstairs in the lounge, by the third pillar from the left, there sits an old lady with a sweet, placid, spinsterish face and a mind that has plumbed the depths of human iniquity and taken it all as in the day's work....where crime is concerned, she's the goods.

  Agatha Christie

  Taken, Mind, Depth

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• Sweet life continues in the breeze, in the golden fields.

  Jack Kerouac

  Golden, Fields, Breeze

  Jack Kerouac (2006). “Book of Sketches”, p.22, Penguin

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• Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands. Curtsied when you have and kissed The wild waves whist, Foot is featly here and there; And, sweet sprites, the burden bear. Ariel's song, scene II, Act I

  William Shakespeare

  Song, Hands, Yellow

  'The Tempest' (1611) act 1, sc. 2, l. 375

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• Martin is your best friend, isn't he?' a sweet and well-intentioned girl once said when both of us were present: it was the only time I ever felt awkward about this precious idea, which seemed somehow to risk diminishment if it were uttered aloud.

  Christopher Hitchens

  Best Friend, Girl, Ideas

  Christopher Hitchens (2010). “Hitch 22: A Memoir”, p.306, Atlantic Books Ltd

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• I didn't want it to be one good memory that led to a lot of bad ones. I wanted it to stay what it was, one amazing moment, something that was strong and sweet enough to stand on its own. Something I could remember without any pain. - Kate

  Elizabeth Scott

  Strong, Pain, Memories

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• Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; Being vexed, a sea nourished with loving tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, A choking gall, and a preserving sweet. *Here’s what love is: a smoke made out of lovers' sighs. When the smoke clears, love is a fire burning in your lover’s eyes. If you frustrate love, you get an ocean made out of lovers' tears. What else is love? It’s a wise form of madness. It’s a sweet lozenge that you choke on.*

  William Shakespeare

  Wise, Ocean, Love You

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