Warm Quotes - Page 11

• My hole is warm and full of light.

  Ralph Ellison

  Light, Holes

  Ralph Ellison (2010). “Invisible Man”, p.31, Vintage

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• He shifted over without comment, lifting the blankets, and I scrambled into the warm sheets beside him. He smelled like soap and sleep and bare skin. He smelled familiar. Not the deja vu familiar of Guy or Mel. Familiar like...the ache in your chest of homesickness, of longing for harbor after weeks of rough seas or craving a fire's warmth after snow--or wanting back something you should never have given away.

  Josh Lanyon

  Sleep, Sea, Fire

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• I may never be happy, but tonight I am content. Nothing more than an empty house, the warm hazy weariness from a day spent setting strawberry runners in the sun, a glass of cool sweet milk, and a shallow dish of blueberries bathed in cream. When one is so tired at the end of a day one must sleep, and at the next dawn there are more strawberry runners to set, and so one goes on living, near the earth. At times like this I'd call myself a fool to ask for more.

  Sylvia Plath

  Happiness, Sweet, Tired

  Sylvia Plath (2013). “The Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.3, Anchor

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• Let people realize clearly that every time they threaten someone or humiliate or unnecessarily hurt or dominate or reject another human being, they become forces for the creation of psychopathology, even if these be small forces. Let them recognize that every person who is kind, helpful, decent, psychologically democratic, affectionate, and warm, is a psychotheraputic force, even though a small one.

  Abraham Maslow

  Hurt, People, Helpful

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• She had always lived her best life in dreams. She knew no greater pleasure than that moment of passage into the other place, when her limbs grew warm and heavy and the sparkling darkness behind her lids became ordered and doors opened; when conscious thought grew owl's wings and talons and became other than conscious.

  John Crowley

  Dream, Doors, Wings

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• The way I pictured it, all this grief would be like a winter night when you're standing outside. You'll warm up once you get used to the cold. Except after you've been out there for awhile, you feel the warmth draining out of you and you realize the opposite is happening; you're getting colder and colder, as the body heat you brought outside with you seeps out of your skin. Instead of getting used to it, you get weaker the longer you endure it.

  Rob Sheffield

  Grief, Winter, Night

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• Needle was Robb and Bran and Rickon, her mother and her father, even Sansa. Needle was Winterfell's grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan's stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow's smile. He used to mess my hair and call me "little sister," she remembered, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes.

  George R. R. Martin

  Summer, Mother, Laughter

  George R. R. Martin (2011). “A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle: A Song of Ice and Fire Series: A Game of Thrones, A Clash of Kings, A Storm of Swords, and A Feast for Crows”, p.2982, Bantam

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• All sixteen mentioned her jutting ribs, the insubstantiality of her thighs, and one, who went up to the roof with Lux during a warm winter rain, told us how the basins of her collarbones collected water.

  Jeffrey Eugenides

  Rain, Winter, Water

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• Suddenly this defeat. This rain. The blues gone gray And the browns gone gray And yellow A terrible amber. In the cold streets Your warm body. In whatever room Your warm body. Among all the people Your absence The people who are always Not you. I have been easy with trees Too long. Too familiar with mountains. Joy has been a habit. Now Suddenly This rain.

  Jack Gilbert

  Rain, Yellow, Long

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• I hung my head, and I felt someone, Fang, gather me gently to him. My cheek rested on his shoulder, and my silent tears soaked his torn shirt.He felt warm and strong and heartbreakingly familiar. And at that moment, not a single thing in my life was certain, strong, or whole. Nothing. Least of all Fang.

  James Patterson

  Strong, Tears, Moments

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• Better freedom and a chilly road than a warm hearth and servitude.

  Fritz Leiber

  Chilly, Servitude

  Fritz Leiber (2014). “Swords in the Mist”, p.7, Open Road Media

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• What lies at the heart of every living thing is not a fire, not warm breath, not a 'spark of life.' It is information, words, instructions... If you want to understand life, don't think about vibrant, throbbing gels and oozes, think about information technology.

  Richard Dawkins

  Lying, Heart, Technology

  Richard Dawkins (2015). “The Blind Watchmaker: Why the Evidence of Evolution Reveals a Universe without Design”, p.115, W. W. Norton & Company

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• I dug out the powder blue cashmere cardigan my mother Lisa gave me the Christmas before last, pulled on my oldest, softest Levi’s. Comfort clothes; the next best thing to a hug from a warm, living body. Lately there had been a shortage of hugs in my life. Lately there had been a shortage of warm, living bodies.

  Josh Lanyon

  Mother, Blue, Clothes

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• Sunlight feels warm and rough against your skin like a kiss on the cheek from your dad.

  John Green

  Dad, Real, Kissing

  John Green (2015). “Looking For Alaska Special 10th Anniversary Edition”, p.209, Penguin

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• And just so you know for the future, I like my double-chocolate chip cookies warm and soft in the middle...and without magnets glued to them." "Me, too. When you decide to bake me some, let me know.

  Simone Elkeles

  Chocolate, Cookies, Middle

  Simone Elkeles (2010). “Rules of Attraction”, p.321, Bloomsbury Publishing USA

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• You have to be very deep to be dead, he thought, and I'm not. He began to have some concept of forever, and his mind shivered as his body had when he had wakened in the cold nights and thrust his hands between his thighs to keep warm. It will be a long night, he thought.

  Peter S. Beagle

  Night, Hands, Long

  Peter S Beagle (2007). “A Fine & Private Place”, p.23, Tachyon Publications

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• She looked up from closing it to find Jace watching her through hooded eyes. “And one last thing,” he said. He reached over and pulled the sparking pins out of her hair, so that it fell in warm heavy curls down her neck. The sensation of hair tickling her bare skin was unfamiliar and oddly pleasant. “Much better,” he said, and she thought this time that maybe his voice was uneven too.

  Cassandra Clare

  Eye, Hair, Voice

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• All I want is a warm bed and a kind word and unlimited power.

  Ashleigh Brilliant

  Humorous, Power, Profound

  Ashleigh Brilliant (1985). “All I Want is a Warm Bed and a Kind Word and Unlimited Power: Even More Brilliant Thoughts”, Brilliant Enterprises

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• Jacob was hardly in need of any physical protection I could offer. But my arms, pinned beneath Edward's, yearned to reach out to him. To wrap around his big, warm, waist in a silent promise of acceptance and comfort. Edward's shielding arms had become restraints.

  Stephenie Meyer

  Acceptance, Promise, Comfort

  Stephenie Meyer (2008). “Eclipse”, Little Brown & Company

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• 

  If you are cold, tea will warm you; if you are too heated, it will cool you; If you are depressed, it will cheer you; If you are excited, it will calm you.

  William E. Gladstone

  Cheer, Tea Drinking, Coffee And Tea

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• Even this late it happens the coming of love, the coming of light. You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves, stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows, sending up warm bouquets of air. Even this late the bones of the body shine and tomorrow’s dust flares into breath.

  Mark Strand

  Dream, Stars, Air

  Mark Strand (2014). “Collected Poems”, p.166, Knopf

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• But the trees were gorgeous in their autumnal leafiness - the warm odours of flowers and herb came sweet upon the sense.

  Elizabeth Gaskell

  Sweet, Flower, Tree

  Elizabeth Gaskell (2010). “The Complete Works of Elizabeth Gaskell (20+ Books)”, p.1668, BookCaps Study Guides

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• Death! Strange that there should be such a word, and such a thing, and we ever forget it; that one should be living, warm and beautiful, full of hopes, desires and wants, one day, and the next be gone, utterly gone, and forever!

  Harriet Beecher Stowe

  Beautiful, Forever, Desire

  Harriet Beecher Stowe, Harriet Beecher STOWE (2016). “Collected Works (Complete and Illustrated Editions: Uncle Tom's Cabin, Queer Little Folks, The Chimney-Corner, ...)”, p.284, Harriet Beecher Stowe

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• What broke in a man when he could bring himself to kill another? What broke when he could bring himself to thrust down the knife into the warm flesh, to bring down the axe on the living head, to cleave down between the seeing eyes, to shoot the gun that would drive death into the beating heart?

  Alan Paton

  Heart, Eye, Gun

  Alan Paton (2003). “Cry, the Beloved Country”, p.79, Simon and Schuster

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• He tasted deeper, holding himself over me, and suddenly he was everywhere; his knee trapping my leg, his lips grazing warm, rough, sensuous. He splayed his hand at the small of my back, holding me tightly, driving me to sink my fingers deeper into him, clinging to him as if letting go would mean losing part of myself.

  Becca Fitzpatrick

  Letting Go, Mean, Hands

  Becca Fitzpatrick (2011). “Silence”, p.276, Simon and Schuster

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