Warm Quotes - Page 17

• Light our fire and protect us from the dark, blah blah, light our way and keep us toasty warm, the night is dark and full of terrors, save us from the scary things, and blah blah blah some more.

  George R. R. Martin

  Dark, Night, Fire

  George R. R. Martin (2012). “George R. R. Martin's A Game of Thrones 5-Book Boxed Set (Song of Ice and Fire Series): A Game of Thrones, A Clash of Kings, A Storm of Swords, A Feast for Crows, and and A Dance with Dragons”, p.3504, Bantam

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• Oblivion eyes on a cereal box, the warm blinds of a father lost and last to know lost and last to love last boy lost you can't see even a bubble once it's popped

  Kami Garcia

  Father, Eye, Boys

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• He liked the idea of coffee quite a lot—a warm drink that gave you energy and had been for centuries associated with sophisticates and intellectuals. But coffee itself tasted to him like caffeinated stomach bile.

  John Green

  Coffee, Ideas, Energy

  John Green (2008). “An Abundance of Katherines”, p.76, Penguin

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• The ship's boards were still sticky with new resin. We leaned over the railing to wave our last farewell, the sun-warm wood pressed against our bellies. The sailors heaved up the anchor, square and chalky with barnacles, and loosened the sails. Then they took their seats at the oars that fringed the boat like eyelashes, waiting for the count. The drums began to beat, and the oars lifted and fell, taking us to Troy.

  Madeline Miller

  Farewell, Squares, Eyelashes

  Madeline Miller (2011). “The Song of Achilles”, p.179, Bloomsbury Publishing

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• Quite, quite,' she thought with a little sigh. 'It's always like this in their adventures. To save and be saved. I wish somebody would write a story sometime about the people who warm up the heroes afterward.

  Tove Jansson

  Hero, Writing, Adventure

  Tove Jansson (2014). “Moominland Midwinter”, p.122, Macmillan

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• There's no time to be modest. Reason will not work here. Without warning, I kiss Kartik. His lips, pressed firmly against mine, are a surprise. They are warm, light as breath, firm as the give of a peach against my mouth. A scent like scorched cinnamon hangs in the air, but I'm not falling into any vision. It's his smell in me. A smell that makes my stomach drop through my feet. A smell that pushes all thought out of my head and replaces it with an overpowering hunger for more.

  Libba Bray

  Fall, Kissing, Light

  Libba Bray (2010). “A Great and Terrible Beauty”, p.133, Simon and Schuster

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• Alex grabbed our things from the bike and bought them inside; then he fastened the tent closed, securing us in. "Come here, babe, I'll keep you warm.

  L.A. Weatherly

  Alex, Tents, Babe

  L.A. Weatherly (2011). “Angel Fire: The Angel Trilogy”, p.31, Usborne Publishing Ltd

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• Why, Yrael?” it said, as the last of the dark gave way to silver, and the shining sphere of metal sank slowly to the ground. “Why?” “Life,” said Yrael, who was more Mogget than it ever knew. “Fish and fowl, warm sun and shady trees, the field mice in the wheat, under the cool light of the moon.

  Garth Nix

  Dark, Moon, Light

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• You are as eloquent as ever, Mat," Egwene said dryly. "Do you still have your pet fox?" "I do," Mat said. "He's snuggled up nice and warm.

  Robert Jordan

  Nice, Pet, Foxes

  Robert Jordan, Brandon Sanderson (2013). “A Memory of Light”, p.563, Macmillan

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• I crave white on white and black, but my thoughts race in glorious technicolour, prodding me awake, whipping away the warm blanket of invisibility every time it sears to smother my mind in nothing.

  Sarah Kane

  Race, White, Black

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• All those paper people living in their paper houses, burning the future to stay warm.

  John Green

  Hipster, People, House

  John Green (2013). “Paper Towns”, p.57, A&C Black

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• Still Caine hesitated. A big, warm bed. A beautiful girl to share it with. Food. Water. Everything he needed, just a few miles away on the island. The logical, rational answer was obvious. "Which is why the world stays messed up," Caine said under his breath. "People aren't rational." He took a few deep, steadying breaths, and prepared to die for power.

  Michael Grant

  Beautiful, Girl, Islands

  "Plague". Book by Michael Grant, 2011.

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• I feel warm and reassured," I whispered. "He's like Santa.

  Maureen Johnson

  Santa, Feels

  Maureen Johnson (2011). “The Name of the Star (Shades of London, Book 1)”, p.39, HarperCollins UK

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• Well, I’m glad you didn’t drown.” His eyes warm up with his face. I smile back at him. “Yeah, that would’ve sucked.” “Definitely.

  J.A. Redmerski

  Eye, Faces, I Smile

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• Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow

  T. S. Eliot

  Winter, Snow, Covering

  The Waste Land l. 5 (1922)

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• A strange, warm feeling swirled in my chest, and for a brief moment, when I looked at him, I saw...safety

  Richelle Mead

  Safety, Feelings, Saws

  Richelle Mead (2012). “The Golden Lily: A Bloodlines Novel”, p.88, Penguin

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• I vow to spend the rest of my life keeping your hands and feet warm.

  Julia Quinn

  Hands, Feet, Vow

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• One thing I've learnt recently: how to think nothing. Here's the trick: don't have any interest in the world around you, don't have any hope for the future, and be warm.

  Ned Vizzini

  Thinking, World, Tricks

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• We live through myriads of seconds, yet it is always one, just one, that casts our entire inner world into turmoil, the second when (as Stendhal has described it) the internal inflorescence, already steeped in every kind of fluid, condenses and crystallizes—a magical second, like the moment of generation, and like that moment concealed in the warm interior of the individual life, invisible, untouchable, beyond the reach of feeling, a secret experienced alone. No algebra of the mind can calculate it, no alchemy of premonition divine it, and it can seldom perceive itself.

  Stefan Zweig

  Feelings, Secret, Mind

  Stefan Zweig (2015). “The Collected Novellas of Stefan Zweig: Burning Secret, A Chess Story, Fear, Confusion, Journey into the Past”, p.144, Pushkin Press

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• She liked that word: we. It sounded warm and open, like a hug.

  Lauren Oliver

  Hug

  Lauren Oliver (2011). “Liesl & Po”, p.171, Hachette UK

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• It happens just because we need to want and to be wanted too, when love is here or gone to lie down in the darkness and listen to the warm.

  Rod McKuen

  Lying, Love Is, Darkness

  Rod McKuen (1970). “Listen to the Warm”

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• I nod like I'm not at all unnerved by this new cold side to him. Not cruel like his father. Not warm like the husband who sought me out on quiet nights. Something in between. This Linden has never woven his fingers through mine, never chosen me from a line of weary Gathered girls, never said he loved me in a myriad of coloured lights. We are nothing to each other.

  Lauren DeStefano

  Girl, Husband, Father

  Lauren DeStefano (2013). “Sever”, p.19, Simon and Schuster

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• At that moment a very good thing was happening to her. Four good things had happened to her, in fact, since she came to Misselthwaite Manor. She had felt as if she had understood a robin and that he had understood her; she had run in the wind until her blood had grown warm; she had been healthily hungry for the first time in her life; and she had found out what it was to be sorry for someone.

  Frances Hodgson Burnett

  Running, Sorry, Blood

  Frances Hodgson Burnett (2016). “The Secret Garden”, p.38, Xist Publishing

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• You saw me before I saw you. In the airport, that day in August, you had that look in your eyes, as though you wanted something from me, as though you’d wanted it for a long time. No one had ever looked at me like that before, with that kind of intensity. It unsettled me, surprised me, I guess. Those blue, blue eyes, icy blue, looking back at me as if I could warm them up. They’re pretty powerful, you know, those eyes, pretty beautiful, too.

  Lucy Christopher

  Beautiful, Powerful, Eye

  Lucy Christopher (2014). “Stolen”, p.4, Scholastic Inc.

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• Oh! Your hand is cold." Ashley cupped her fingers against her shirt to warm them. "I've been dead for seven years," Noah said. "That's as warm as they get.

  Maggie Stiefvater

  Hands, Years, Cold

  Maggie Stiefvater (2012). “The Raven Boys”, p.42, Scholastic Inc.

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