Tongue Quotes - Page 13

• Over the tea-cups and in the square the tongue has its desire; Still waters run deep, my dear, there's never smoke without fire.

  W. H. Auden

  Running, Fire, Squares

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• (on forgiveness) Didn't he and I stand together before an all seeing God convicted of the same murder? For I had murdered him with my heart and my tongue.

  Corrie Ten Boom

  Heart, Together, Murder

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• Quick now, here, now, always- A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything) And all shall be well and All manner of thing shall be well When the tongues of flame are in-folded Into the crowned knot of fire And the fire and the rose are one.

  T. S. Eliot

  Fire, Flames, Rose

  Four Quartets "Little Gidding" pt. 5 (1942)

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• Death like a lover, caressing him, promising him peace, running its fingers through his hair, its tongue in his ear. She put her own two fingers in her mouth. Im so sorry. And pulled the trigger

  Janet Fitch

  Running, Sorry, Hair

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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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• When I return to the world, I will be a man. I will walk among you. I will lick my lips with my small, dexterous tongue. I will shake hands with other men, grasping firmly with my opposable thumbs. And I will teach all people that I know. And when I see a man or a woman or a child in trouble, I will extend my hand, both metaphorically and physically. I will offer my hand. To him. To her. To you. To the world. I will be a good citizen, a good partner in the endeaver of life that we all share.

  Garth Stein

  Children, Men, Hands

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• Love provided me with a tongue and tears.

  Khalil Gibran

  Tears

  Khalil Gibran (2007). “Kahlil Gibran: Masterpieces”

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• The child had indeed shut up but all the questions that had accumulated on his tongue circulated in his mouth, moved through the passages of his nose and climbed up from there to tickle into his teardrop ducts, so in his moss green pupils, curious, insistent, accusing sparks of questions continued to light up and fade away like fireflies flitting about on summer nights.

  Elif Safak

  Summer, Children, Firefly

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• We artists are indestructible; even in a prison, or in a concentration camp, I would be almighty in my own world of art, even if I had to paint my pictures with my wet tongue on the dusty floor of my cell.

  Pablo Picasso

  Art, Determination, Cells

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• It was the wife, John thought. And she was giving this tough guy a tongue-lashing. And the man was taking it. "Okay. I love you. Bye." Tohrment flipped the phone closed and put it in his pocket. When he focused on John again, he clearly respected his wife enough not to roll his eyes and make some macho, shithead comment about pesky women.

  J.R. Ward

  Love You, Eye, Men

  J.R. Ward (2011). “J.R. Ward The Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 1-4”, p.1028, Penguin

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• Wine talks; ask anyone. The oracle at the street corner; the uninvited guest at the wedding feast; the holy fool. It ventriloquizes. It has a million voices. It unleashes the tongue, teasing out secrets you never meant to tell, secrets you never even knew. It shouts, rants, whispers. It speaks of great plans, tragic loves, and terrible betrayals. It screams with laughter. It chuckles softly to itself. It weeps in front of its own reflection. It revives summers long past and memories best forgotten. Every bottle a whiff of other times, other places, everyone...a humble miracle

  Joanne Harris

  Summer, Laughter, Memories

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• O, but they say, the tongues of dying men enforce attention, like deep harmony: where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain: for they breathe truth, that breathe their words in pain. he, that no more must say, is listened more than they whom youth and ease have taught to gloze; more are men's ends marked, than their lives before: the setting sun, and music at the close, as the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last; writ in rememberance more than things long past

  William Shakespeare

  Sweet, Pain, Past

  William Shakespeare, Charles R. Forker (2002). “King Richard II: Third Series”, p.242, Cengage Learning EMEA

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• Pain! Deep, tearing, throbbing, needle-sharp, hammer-blunt pain – ripping through his body and through his mind, twisting deep in his guts and slicing at his skin with razors and broken glass. Oskan wanted to scream, but his vocal cords had burned away. He was desperate for water and he could hear it dripping all around him, but his charred tongue found nothing in his mouth but blisters and scorched flesh. For hours he lay on the ropes of the low bed, unable to move, the pressure of the hemp on his destroyed skin sending new agonies deep into his body.

  Stuart Hill

  Pain, Moving, Glasses

  Stuart Hill (2011). “The Icemark Chronicles #1: Cry of the Icemark”, p.352, Scholastic Inc.

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• There is a huge body of evidence to support the notion that me and the police were put on this earth to do extremely different things and never to mingle professionally with each other, except at official functions, when we all wear ties and drink heavily and whoop it up like the natural, good-humored wild boys that we know in our hearts that we are..These occasions are rare, but they happen - despite the forked tongue of fate that has put us forever on different paths.

  Hunter S. Thompson

  Heart, Fate, Boys

  Hunter S. Thompson (2011). “Kingdom of Fear: Loathsome Secrets of a Star-Crossed Child in the F”, p.289, Simon and Schuster

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• I am a mess. Like that MargieMocha, I am spilled across a floor, but there's nobody to mop me up. I have only one thing to show for the day: Perry Delloplane. The sound of a name. It is a grape in my mouth. I roll it over and over on my tongue--perrydelloplaneperrydelloplaneperrydelloplaneperrydelloplane--but when I try to crush it with my teeth, it slips away.

  Jerry Spinelli

  Crush, Names, Trying

  Jerry Spinelli (2012). “The Stargirl Collection”, p.191, Knopf Books for Young Readers

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• The tongue is the most remarkable. For we use it both to taste out sweet wine and bitter poison, thus also do we utter words both sweet and sout with the same tongue.

  Neil Gaiman

  Sweet, Wine, Poison

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• They were kissing. Put like that, and you could be forgiven for presuming that this was a normal kiss, all lips and skin and possibly even a little tongue. You'd miss how he smiled, how his eyes glowed. And then, after the kiss was done, how he stood, like a man who had just discovered the art of standing and had figured out how to do it better than anyone else who would ever come along.

  Neil Gaiman

  Art, Eye, Kissing

  Neil Gaiman (2005). “Anansi Boys”

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• There, pride, avarice, and envy are the tongues men know and heed, a Babel of depsair

  Dante Alighieri

  Pride, Men, Envy

  Dante Alighieri (2001). “The Inferno”, p.67, Penguin

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• Done to death by slanderous tongue

  William Shakespeare

  Eulogy, Done

  William Shakespeare (2013). “Shakespeare's Complete Works”, p.2727, Simon and Schuster

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• Although it may not seem like it, this isn’t a story about darkness. It’s about light. Kahlil Gibran says Your joy can fill you only as deeply your sorrow has carved you. If you’ve never tasted bitterness, sweet is just another pleasant flavor on your tongue. One day I’m going to hold a lot of joy.

  Karen Marie Moning

  Sweet, Light, Joy

  FaceBook post by Karen Marie Moning from Jun 27, 2015

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• After all, how many of us had tried to forget something traumatic...only to find it printed on the back of our eyelids, tattooed on our tongues?

  Jodi Picoult

  Forget, Tattooed, Eyelids

  Jodi Picoult (2008). “Change of Heart: A Novel”, p.237, Simon and Schuster

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• A nervous silence loosens tongues

  Jacqueline Carey

  Sex, Silence, Nervous

  Jacqueline Carey (2003). “Kushiel's Chosen: A Novel”, p.187, Macmillan

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• It reminded me of that tongue-in-cheek quick history of art I'd overheard...Used to be people couldn't draw very well, then they could, and now they can't again.

  Charles de Lint

  Art, People, Used

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• When I turn around, he cups my face in his hands and he kisses me so deeply that I don't know who is breathing for who, but his mouth and tongue taste like warm honey. I don't know how long it lasts, but when I let go of him, I miss it already.

  Melina Marchetta

  Letting Go, Kissing, Hands

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• They crashed the front door and grabbed at a woman, though she was not running, she was not trying to escape. She was only standing, weaving from side to side, her eyes fixed upon a nothingness in the wall as if they had struck her a terrible blow upon the head. Her tongue was moving in her mouth, and her eyes seemed to be trying to remember something, and then they remembered and her tongue moved again: "Play the man, Master Ridley; we shall this day light such a candle, by God's grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out.

  Ray Bradbury

  Running, Wall, Moving

  Ray Bradbury (2016). “Fahrenheit 451”, p.17, Hamilton Books

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