Quotes About Delicate

Quotes tagged as "delicate" (showing 1-12 of 12)
Roman Payne
“She was so delicate that, while we sat beneath the linden branches, a leaf would fall and drift down and touch her skin, and it would leave a bruise. So as we sat in the afternoon hour, beneath that fragrant linden bower, I had to chase all of the leafs that fell away.”
Roman Payne

C. JoyBell C.
“Silk is a fine, delicate, soft, illuminating, beautiful substance. But you can never rip it! If a man takes this tender silk and attempts to tear it, and cannot tear it, is he in his right mind to say "This silk is fake! I thought it was soft, I thought it was delicate, but look, I cannot even tear it" ? Surely, this man is not in his right mind! The silk is not fake! This silk is 100% real. It's the man who is stupid!”
C. JoyBell C.

Hans Christian Andersen
“They could see she was a real Princess and no question about it, now that she had felt one pea all the way through twenty mattresses and twenty more feather beds. Nobody but a Princess could be so delicate.”
Hans Christian Andersen, The Princess and the Pea: The Graphic Novel

Cristiane Serruya
“He towered over her, as intense and savage as only he could be, making her feel small and delicate in comparison, surrounded by his utter maleness. She felt trapped and she wanted to stay in his cage forever.”
Cristiane Serruya, Trust: Pandora's Box

“His voice a rhythm like rain, words rolling over themselves...

“You are distinguished from the leaves
by the shape of your eyes.
They are whiter in color and rounder.
Except on nights like this
when the leaves are luminous....”

“Still, you are distinguished from the night–
your voice silent as candles melted
in their own pools,
used up with expression and light....”
Debi Cimo, Delicate The alchemy of Emily Greyson

Kelly Creagh
“She’d never seen a boy with hands like that, with long,
delicate fingers, beautiful but still masculine. His fingernails were long too, almost crystalline,
tapered to points. They were the kind of hands you’d expect to see under lace cuffs, like Mozart or
Kelly Creagh, Nevermore

Saikaku Ihara
“When he appeared before the lord, his lordship was smitten immediately with the boy's unadorned beauty, like a first glimpse of the moon rising above a distant mountain. The boy's hair gleamed like the feathers of a raven perched silently on a tree, and his eyes were lovely as lotus flowers. One by one his other qualities became apparent, from his nightingale voice to his gentle disposition, as obedient and true as a plum blossom.”
Saikaku Ihara, The Great Mirror of Male Love

“She was born as music–a single, mellow note suspended in the air. Suspended as if strung from nothing, held into possibilities of sound. Her clear note hung a lone, sweet tone in the midst of us all; as silence captured its ache and tenderly, reluctantly released it, dipped it lower into a breath of melancholy only to lift again to its earlier height both rich and real and complete–one solitary note swaying into the early dawn.

Emily arrived in the cold, grey hours of the newborn year, between the breathing dark and the pearl, winter light. A child of the dawn, before dawn broke.”
Debi Cimo, Delicate The alchemy of Emily Greyson

“It was the moths that first revealed the change. Grey-tipped whispers in the moonlit night. Two or three here, a single one there. White ones slipping through the darkness, silent and seemingly harmless, but present. Growing in numbers until they erupted the quiet like flutters of falling ash. There was a music in their silence. The kind of music that attached itself to hums and vibrations in the waters of the earth.

The hums, the vibrations, all but imperceptible. With the dawn the moths vanished, leaving a broken land in their wake. The Elian River leaked out into fissures of streams and brooks that first appeared as watery cracks throughout the Faeran Valley. So small at first, we didn't recognize the difference.

But as the months and years passed, the Elian slipped further and deeper into the growing fractures of earth the moths had left. Trails of watery branches and veins that broke the ground until it couldn't sustain life any longer.

This is what we have against the Bremistans. The land is delicate now, brittle like old bones. And I fear it is aging beyond our ability to heal it....”
Debi Cimo, Delicate The alchemy of Emily Greyson

Irving Stone
“Cardinal Giovanni still did not like delicate matters; they were usually painful.”
Irving Stone, The Agony and the Ecstasy

Criss Jami
“The most fragile, unhappy people destine themselves to live lives of constantly reminding themselves to be happy.”
Criss Jami

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