Warm Quotes - Page 2

• Most people would never admit it, but they'd been bitching since they were born. As soon as their head popped out into that bright delivery-room light, nothing had been right. Nothing had been as comfortable or felt so good. Just the effort it took to keep your stupid physical body alive, just finding food and cooking it and dishwashing, the keeping warm and bathing and sleeping, the walking and bowel movements and ingrown hairs, it was all getting to be too much work.

  Chuck Palahniuk

  Stupid, Sleep, Light

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• What is going to happen in the course of my day that will be an improvement over lying on something very soft, underneath something very warm, wearing only underwear, doing absolutely nothing, all by myself?

  Chuck Klosterman

  Lying, Underwear, Improvement

  Chuck Klosterman (2008). “Downtown Owl: A Novel”, p.124, Simon and Schuster

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• The pearls weren't really white, they were a warm oyster beige, with little knots in between so if they broke, you only lost one. I wished my life could be like that, knotted up so that even if something broke, the whole thing wouldn't come apart.

  Janet Fitch

  Lost Ones, Oysters, White

  Janet Fitch (2002). “White Oleander”, Large Print Press

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• Cats regard people as warm-blooded furniture.

  Jacquelyn Mitchard

  Cat, People, Pet

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• And I say also this. I do not think the forest would be so bright, nor the water so warm, nor love so sweet, if there were no danger in the lakes.

  C. S. Lewis

  Sweet, Thinking, Lakes

  C.S. Lewis (1996). “Out of the Silent Planet”, p.76, Simon and Schuster

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• It was the month of May and there was warm sunshine dripping through the holes between the clouds, like the sky was a broken blue bowl and a child was trying to keep honey in it.

  Chris Cleave

  Children, Sunshine, Clouds

  Chris Cleave (2010). “Little Bee: A Novel”, p.52, Simon and Schuster

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• The music enchanted the air. It was like the south wind, like a warm night, like swelling sails beneath the stars, completely and utterly unreal... It made everything spacious and colourful, the dark stream of life seemed pulsing in it; there were no burdens any more, no limits; there existed only glory and melody and love, so that one simply could not realize that, at the same time as this music was, outside there ruled poverty and torment and despair.

  Erich Maria Remarque

  Stars, Dark, Night

  Erich Maria Remarque (1937). “Three Comrades”

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• Passion is something you really don't miss, after it has cooled. It is like looking at an empty bottle on the side of the road and thinking, "Boy, I wish I had a Coke." The loves you miss are the ones that go away when they are still warm, even hot, to the touch.

  Rick Bragg

  Love You, Passion, Boys

  Rick Bragg (2010). “All Over but the Shoutin'”, p.216, Vintage

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• Warm are the still and lucky miles, White shores of longing stretch away, A light of recognition fills The whole great day, and bright The tiny world of lovers' arms. Silence invades the breathing wood Where drowsy limbs a treasure keep, Now greenly falls the learned shade Across the sleeping brows And stirs their secret to a smile. Restored! Returned! The lost are borne On seas of shipwreck home at last: See! In a fire of praising burns The dry dumb past, and we Our life-day long shall part no more.

  W. H. Auden

  Fall, Sleep, Home

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• With each spring comes new life, energy and green growth. In summer comes the sun, warm, kind and enduring. Fall brings its canvas of color in careful, gentle change. Winter brews into faithful strength, beauty in pure white. And then comes you. You are all that Nature offers, a blessing, a gift.. You are the fifth season.

  Jason F. Wright

  Summer, Spring, Fall

  Jason F. Wright (2007). “The Wednesday Letters: A Novel”

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• I can well imagine an athiest's last words: "White, white! L-L-Love! My God!" - and the deathbed leap of faith. Whereas the agnostic, if he stays true to his reasonable self, if he stays beholden to dry, yeastless factuality, might try to explain the warm light bathing him by saying "Possibly a f-f-failing oxygenation of the b-b-brain," and, to the very end, lack imagination and miss the better story.

  Yann Martel

  White, Light, Self

  Yann Martel (2007). “Life of Pi (Illustrated): Deluxe Illustrated Edition”, p.76, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• You know,” he said, “this is why I love you so much.” Her tone was heartbreakingly warm. “What do you mean?” You don’t ask me to go inside because it’s cold. You just want to make it easier for me to be where I want to stand.

  J.R. Ward

  Love You, Mean, Want

  J.R. Ward (2009). “Lover Avenged: A Novel of the Black Dagger Brotherhood”, p.591, Penguin

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• That afternoon the sky was scattered with black clouds galloping in from the sea and clustering over the city. Flashes of lightening echoed on the horizon and a charged warm wind smelling of dust announced a powerful summer storm. When I reached the station I noticed the first few drops, shiny and heavy, like coins falling from heaven...Night seemed to fall suddenly, interrupted only by the lightning now bursting over the city, leaving a trail of noise and fury.

  Carlos Ruiz Zafon

  Summer, Powerful, Fall

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• It is not learning we need at all. Individuals need learning but the culture needs something else, the pulse of light on the sea, the warm urge of huddling together to keep out the cold. We need empathy, we need the eyes that still can weep.

  Lydia Millet

  Eye, Light, Sea

  Lydia Millet (2005). “Oh Pure and Radiant Heart”, p.266, Soft Skull Press

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• When an almond tree became covered with blossoms in the heart of winter, all the trees around it began to jeer. 'What vanity,' they screamed, 'what insolence! Just think, it believes it can bring spring in this way!' The flowers of the almond tree blushed for shame. 'Forgive me, my sisters,' said the tree. 'I swear I did not want to blossom, but suddenly I felt a warm springtime breeze in my heart.

  Nikos Kazantzakis

  Spring, Believe, Flower

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• My father had not been outside the house except to drive back and forth to work or sit out in the backyard, for months, nor had he seen his neighbors. Now he looked at them, from face to face, until he realized I had been loved by people he didn't even recognize. His heart filled up, warm again as it had not been in what seemed so long to him- save small forgotten moments with Buckley, the accidents of love that happened with his son. ~pgs 209-210; Buckley, Lindsey and Jack on Susie

  Alice Sebold

  Father, Heart, Son

  Alice Sebold (2014). “The Lovely Bones: Picador Classic”, p.150, Pan Macmillan

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• It is because I think so much of warm and sensitive hearts, that I would spare them from being wounded.

  Charles Dickens

  Heart, Thinking, Sensitive

  Charles Dickens (1839). “Oliver Twist”, p.32

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• Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.

  John Keats

  Friendship, Summer, Running

  John Keats, Helen Vendler (1990). “Poetry Manuscripts at Harvard”, p.222, Harvard University Press

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• Should I warm the oven and bake you a batch of hero cookies? - Zephyra

  Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Hero, Cookies, Should

  Sherrilyn Kenyon (2011). “One Silent Night”, p.37, Hachette UK

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• You're a good Irishman, right?" When Butch nodded, V said, "Irish, Irish… let me think. Yeah…" Vishous's eyes sobered, and in a voice that cracked, he said, "May the road rise to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rains fall soft upon your fields. And… my dearest friend… until we meet again may the Lord hold you in the palm of His hand.

  J.R. Ward

  Fall, Rain, Eye

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• Yes, the world may aspire to vacuousness, lost souls mourn beauty, insignificance surrounds us. Then let us drink a cup of tea. Silence descends, one hears the wind outside, autumn leaves rustle and take flight, the cat sleeps in a warm pool of light. And, with each swallow, time is sublimed.

  Muriel Barbery

  Sleep, Cat, Autumn

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• I fell for her in summer, my lovely summer girl, From summer she is made, my lovely summer girl, I’d love to spend a winter with my lovely summer girl, But I’m never warm enough for my lovely summer girl, It’s summer when she smiles, I’m laughing like a child, It’s the summer of our lives; we’ll contain it for a while She holds the heat, the breeze of summer in the circle of her hand I’d be happy with this summer if it’s all we ever had.

  Maggie Stiefvater

  Summer, Girl, Children

  Maggie Stiefvater (2009). “Shiver”, p.175, Scholastic Inc.

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• When you're cold, don't expect sympathy from someone who's warm.

  Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

  Cold

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• Vain trifles as they seem, clothes have, they say, more important offices than to merely keep us warm. They change our view of the world and the world's view of us.

  Virginia Woolf

  Fashion, Views, Clothes

  Virginia Woolf (1995). “Orlando: A Biography”, p.92, Wordsworth Editions

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• But also I wanted him to go away and leave me be. I was granted one weak grace. Back in the room where the green chair was still warm from his body, I blew that lonely, flickering candle out

  Alice Sebold

  Lonely, Grace, Going Away

  Alice Sebold (2014). “The Lovely Bones: Picador Classic”, p.103, Pan Macmillan

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