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Quotes About Imagery

Quotes tagged as "imagery" (showing 1-30 of 118)
Augustine of Hippo
“The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.”
Augustine of Hippo

Scott Westerfeld
“The early summer sky was the color of cat vomit.”
Scott Westerfeld, Uglies

Robert Frost
“Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.”
Robert Frost, Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

Charlotte Brontë
“A lover finds his mistress asleep on a mossy bank; he wishes to catch a glimpse of her fair face without waking her. He steals softly over the grass, careful to make no sound; he pauses -- fancying she has stirred: he withdraws: not for worlds would he be seen. All is still: he again advances: he bends above her; a light veil rests on her features: he lifts it, bends lower; now his eyes anticipate the vision of beauty -- warm, and blooming, and lovely, in rest. How hurried was their first glance! But how they fix! How he starts! How he suddenly and vehemently clasps in both arms the form he dared not, a moment since, touch with his finger! How he calls aloud a name, and drops his burden, and gazes on it wildly! He thus grasps and cries, and gazes, because he no longer fears to waken by any sound he can utter -- by any movement he can make. He thought his love slept sweetly: he finds she is stone dead.

I looked with timorous joy towards a stately house: I saw a blackened ruin.”
Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

Sappho
“their heart grew cold
they let their wings down”
Sappho, If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho

Kim Harrison
“A slow smile curved over my face, and I leaned down over him. "No," I said. "Wishes are lies. Tell me you're going to leave. Tell me you're not going to stay. Tell me that it's only for a while so I can enjoy today," I whispered in his ear, as if saying it louder would break me. "And when you go, don't think me cold when I don't cry. I can't cry anymore, Pierce. It hurts too much.”
Kim Harrison

Moderata Fonte
“[M]en, though they know full well how much women are worth and how great the benefits we bring them, nonetheless seek to destroy us out of envy for our merits. It's just like the crow, when it produces white nestlings: it is so stricken by envy, knowing how black it is itself, that it kills its own offspring out of pique.”
Moderata Fonte, The Worth of Women: Wherein Is Clearly Revealed Their Nobility and Their Superiority to Men

Thomas Bailey Aldrich
“What is more cheerful, now, in the fall of the year, than an open-wood-fire? Do you hear those little chirps and twitters coming out of that piece of apple-wood? Those are the ghosts of the robins and blue-birds that sang upon the bough when it was in blossom last Spring. In Summer whole flocks of them come fluttering about the fruit-trees under the window: so I have singing birds all the year round.”
Thomas Bailey Aldrich

Ray Bradbury
“The autumn leaves blew over the moonlit pavement in such a way as to make the girl who was moving there seem fixed to a sliding walk, letting the motion of the wind and the leaves carry her forward. [...] The trees overhead made a great sound of letting down their dry rain.”
Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

Rebecca Maizel
“Ghosts have a way of misleading you; they can make your thoughts as heavy as branches after a storm.”
Rebecca Maizel, Infinite Days

Will Christopher Baer
“And my life went to pieces, like a love letter in the rain.”
Will Christopher Baer, Kiss Me, Judas

Anne Carson
“Here we go mother on the shipless ocean.
Pity us, pity the ocean, here we go.”
Anne Carson, Decreation

Carrie Ryan
“They're endless, stretching beyond the horizon and spreading around me like forever. They heave and moan, frothing over each other, cresting and falling. The pure depth and vastness of it all beyond comprehension, my eyes unable to focus on any individual. Instead I'm drowned in their need. They ripple and swell, the bodies of the Mudo, like the ocean. Like the dead-tossed waves.”
Carrie Ryan

Ernest Hemingway
“A wine shop was open and I went in for some coffee. It smelled of early morning, of swept dust, spoons in coffee-glasses and the wet circles left by wine glasses.”
Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

Carrie Ryan
“But then I'm distracted by movement in the Forest, a glimpse of red at the edge of my vision. She's no longer running, no longer even walking or standing, but crawling now. Dragging her broken body across the ground toward me, her fingers clawing at the dirt. Her progress is slow, unbearably so. Such that it's almost sad to see her reduced to this. Her body has used up it's stores of energy and has begun collapsing in on itself.”
Carrie Ryan

John Updike
“But it is just two lovers, holding hands and in a hurry to reach their car, their locked hands a starfish leaping through the dark.”
John Updike, Rabbit, Run

Janet Fitch
“It was her first book, an indigo cover with a silver moonflower, an art nouveau flower, I traced my finger along the silver line like smoke, whiplash curves. ... I touched the pages her hands touched, I pressed them to my lips, the soft thick old paper, yellow now, fragile as skin. I stuck my nose between the bindings and smelled all the readings she had given, the smell of unfiltered cigarettes and the espresso machine, beaches and incense and whispered words in the night. I could hear her voice rising from the pages. The cover curled outward like sails.”
Janet Fitch, White Oleander

F. Scott Fitzgerald
“So when the blue smoke of brittle leaves was in the air and the wind blew the wet laundry stiff on the line I decided to come back home.”
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Simon R. Green
“We are in the dark places of the earth," said Madman. "Where all the ancient and most dangerous secrets are kept. There are Old Things down here, sleeping all around us, in the earth and in the living rock, and in the spaces between spaces. Keep your voices down. Some of these old creatures sleep but lightly, and even their dreams can have force and substance in our limited world. We have come among forgotten gods and sleeping devils, from the days before the world settled down and declared itself sane.”
Simon R. Green, Hex and the City

Haruki Murakami
“Shimamoto was in charge of the records. She'd take one from its jacket, place it carefully on the turntable without touching the grooves with her fingers, and, after making sure to brush the cartridge free of any dust with a tiny brush, lower the needle ever so gently onto the record. When the record was finished, she'd spray it and wipe it with a felt cloth. Finally she'd return the record to its jacket and its proper place on the shelf. Her father had taught her this procedure, and she followed his instructions with a terribly serious look on her face, her eyes narrowed, her breath held in check. Meanwhile, I was on the sofa, watching her every move. Only when the record was safely back on the shelf did she turn to me and give a little smile. And every time, this thought hit me: It wasn't a record she was handling. It was a fragile soul inside a glass bottle.”
Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun

Yasunari Kawabata
“The road was frozen. The village lay quiet under the cold sky. Komako hitched up the skirt of her kimono and tucked it into her obi. The moon shone like a blade frozen in blue ice.”
Yasunari Kawabata, Snow Country

Janet Fitch
“The night crackled ... Everything had turned to static electricity in the heat. I combed my hair to watch the sparks fly from the ends.”
Janet Fitch, White Oleander

Zora Neale Hurston
“The sun had become a light yellow yolk and was walking with red legs across the sky.”
Zora Neale Hurston, Seraph on the Suwanee

Alan Bradley
“I brought to mind the image of the stranger lying there in the first light of dawn: the slight growth of whiskers on his chin, strands of his red hair shifting gently on the faint stirrings of the morning breeze, the pallor, the extended legs, the quivering fingers, that last, sucking breath. And that word, blown into my face ... "Vale."

The thrill of it all!

Yes," I said, "it was devastating.”
Alan Bradley, The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie

Diane Hammond
“Why did we divorce? I guess you could say we had trouble synchronizing. You know that carnival ride where two cages swing in opposite directions, going higher and higher until they go over the top? That was us. We passed each other all the time, but we never actually stopped in the same place until it was time to get off the ride.”
Diane Hammond, Hannah's Dream

Zora Neale Hurston
“Night came walking through Egypt swishing her black dress.”
Zora Neale Hurston, Moses, Man of the Mountain

Virginia Woolf
“I often wish I'd got on better with your father,' he said.
But he never liked anyone who--our friends,' said Clarissa; and could have bitten her tongue for thus reminding Peter that he had wanted to marry her.
Of course I did, thought Peter; it almost broke my heart too, he thought; and was overcome with his own grief, which rose like a moon looked at from a terrace, ghastly beautiful with light from the sunken day. I was more unhappy than I've ever been since, he thought. And as if in truth he were sitting there on the terrace he edged a little towards Clarissa; put his hand out; raised it; let it fall. There above them it hung, that moon. She too seemed to be sitting with him on the terrace, in the moonlight.”
Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway

Ruth Moore
“Grampie's boat was a little double-ender, a model not built nowadays. She was narrow, so that she pitched and rolled something wicked in almost any sea. He could handle her, but he said she was probably the boat Christ got out of and walked away from on the water.”
Ruth Moore, Candlemas Bay

Armistead Maupin
“Her apartment seemed fussier than ever, as if the doilies and tassels had taken to breeding in their unguarded moments.”
Armistead Maupin, More Tales of the City

David Foster Wallace
“Ortho Stice played with a kind of rigid, liquid grace, like a panther in a back-brace.”
David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest

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