Poetic Prose Quotes

Quotes tagged as "poetic-prose" Showing 1-30 of 94
Raymond Chandler
“I was as hollow and empty as the spaces between stars.”
Raymond Chandler, The Long Goodbye

Madeline Miller
“Her mouth was a gash of red, like the torn-open stomach of a sacrifice, bloody and oracular. Behind it her teeth shone sharp and white as bone.”
Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles

William Shakespeare
“She gave me for my pains a world of sighs.”
William Shakespeare, Othello

Azar Nafisi
“i could have told him to learn from Gatsby. from the lonely, isolated Gatsby, who also tried to retrieve his past and give flash and blood to a fancy, a dream that was never meant to be more than a dream.”
Azar Nafisi, Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books

Stephen King
“Maybe he was as mad as he said he was, but she could see only a species of miserable fright. Suddenly, like the thud of a boxing glove on her mouth, she saw how close to the edge of everything he was. The agency was tottering, that was bad enough, and now, on top of that, like a grisly dessert following a putrid main course, his marriage was tottering too. She felt a rush of warmth for him, for this man she had sometimes hated and had, for the last three hours at least, feared. A kind of epiphany filled her. Most of all, she hoped he would always think he had been as mad as hell, and not . . . not the way his face said he felt.”
Stephen King, Cujo

Heather O'Neill
“We were broke in a way that only kids can be broke. Our toes were black with dye from wearing boots that weren't waterproof. We had infected ear lobes and green rings around our fingers from cheap jewelry. No one ever even had a chocolate bar.”
Heather O'Neill, Lullabies for Little Criminals

Lori R. Lopez
“Poetry is the language of the soul;
Poetic Prose, the language of my heart.
Each line must flow as in a song,
and strike a chord that rings forever.
To me, words are music!”
Lori R. Lopez

“...she could not think of what had happened to her that day, or of what might happen that night. Instead, she watched the lamplighters move along the avenues even as their celestial counterparts set the stars alight in the sky. The rain had washed the city clean, and the air was a confection of clematis and violets and peony. Music and light spilled out of so many grand houses that the two seemed at once ubiquitous and united, as if to play a note was to send forth a ray of illumination, and a quartet was enough to set the grandest halls aglitter.”
Galen M. Beckett, The Magicians and Mrs. Quent

Laini Taylor
“As she walked, clock towers across Prague started arguing midnight, and the long, fraught Monday came at last to a close.”
Laini Taylor, Daughter of Smoke & Bone

Philippe Delerm
You arrive in the basement. Immediatly it catches you. Apples are here, lying on fruit trays, turned crates. You didn't think about it. You had no wish to be flooded by this melancholic wave. But you can't resist. Apple scent is a breaker. How could you manage without this childhood, bitter and sweet ?
Shrivelled fruits surely are delicious, from this feak dryness where candied taste seems to have wormed in each wrinkle. But you don't wish to eat them. Particularly don't turn into an identifiable taste this floating power of smell. Say that it smells good, strong? But not ..... It's beyond .... An inner scent, scent of a better oneself. Here is shut up school autumn, with purple ink we scratch paper with down strokes and thin strokes. Rain bangs against glasses, evening will be long ....
But apple perfume is more than past. You think about formerly because of fullness and intensity from a remembrance of salpetered cellar, dark attic. But it's to live here, stay here, stand up.
You have behind you high herbs and damp orchards. Ahead it's like a warm blow given in the shade. Scent got all browns, all reds with a bit of green acid. Scent distilled skin softness, its tiny roughness. Lips dried, we alreadyt know that this thirst is not to be slaked.
Nothing would happen if you bite the white flesh. You would need to become october, mud floor, moss of cellar, rain, expectation.
Apple scent is painful. It's from a stronger life, a slowness we deserve no more.”
Philippe DELERM

Kimberly Kinrade
“Time held no meaning as my mind darted in and out of memories. Past and present collided to create a full-sensory collage out of my life: playing hide-n-seek with my best friends Luke—who always cheated by walking through walls when he was about to be caught—and Lucy; Mr. Caldrin critiquing my sketches and offering ideas to make them more realistic; targets changing faces, blending into the same person, their thoughts rippling through my mind like waves. Through it all, a demon stalked me from the shadows of my memories, never quite showing its face, but crouching, waiting.

And then I dreamed....”
Kimberly Kinrade, Forbidden Fire

Sarah MacLean
“He reached for her, his big hand cupping her cheek, his fingers sliding into her hair, scattering hairpins, threatening the quick work she’d done to put it to rights earlier. She didn’t care. Let them fall. Let them rust in the soil to be found two hundred years from now.”
Sarah MacLean, Bombshell

Angela Elwell Hunt
“Like blood out of a wound, a keening wail rose from the bottom of my heart and ripped through the graveyard. I lowered my face to Hadassah's shoulder and went quietly and thoroughly to pieces.”
Angela Elwell Hunt, Magdalene

Miss Rainbow Moonfire
“My words, I write them
It's easier than saying
My romanticized pain
Is less painful when written
I love you, I do
I hope this reaches you.”
Miss Rainbow Moonfire

Daven McQueen
“The moon was right above their heads, seeming to offer them a smile. Juniper sighed. They closed their eyes and breathed as stardust fell from the black satin night sky and settled on their cheeks.”
Daven McQueen, The Invincible Summer of Juniper Jones

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
“The earth rises and seems to spread like a mist. The first stars tremble as if shimmering in green water. Hours must pass before their glimmer hardens into the frozen glitter of diamonds. I shall have a long wait before I witness the soundless frolic of the shooting stars. In the profound darkness of certain nights, I have seen the sky streaked with so many trialing sparks that it seemed to me a great gale must be blowing through the outer heavens.”
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Wind, Sand and Stars

“Poets deal in mysterious connections that tie people together, those difficult to catalog ethereal notions of love, beauty, joy, and broken hearts, or what and Richelle E. Goodrich, an American author and poet referred to as ‘the etched sorrows of despairing souls.”
Kilroy J. Oldster, Dead Toad Scrolls

William Faulkner
“When the Negro opened the blinds of one window, they could see that the leather was cracked; and when they sat down, a faint dust rose sluggishly about their thighs, spinning with slow motes in the single sun-ray.”
William Faulkner, A Rose for Emily

E.B. White
“My name is Margalo,' said the bird, softly, in a musical voice. 'I come from fields once tall with wheat, from pastures deep in fern and thistle; I come from vales of meadowsweet, and I love to whistle.”
E.B. White, Stuart Little

Jennifer      LeBlanc

your kiss was venom
your touch barbed wire

and I was just a plaything
on a funeral pyre”
Jennifer LeBlanc, Paper Heart

“It is as vital to know where
you no longer belong
as it is to know where
you do belong.”
Gin Love Thompsonson

Gin Love Thompson
“It is as vital to know where
you no longer belong
as it is to know where
you do belong.”
Gin Love Thompson

Lailah Gifty Akita
“Literature speaks in a perfect language .”
Lailah Gifty Akita

“‏أشعرُ بقلبي يغوصُ بينَ أضلُعي”
سكوت فيتزجيرالد, The Great Gatsby

Kevin Ansbro
“The train’s doors closed with a matron’s shush.”
Kevin Ansbro, The Fish That Climbed a Tree

Paul Harding
“He fell into a sort of walking stupor in which his mind was as it is when a person sleeps but his dreams are composed by his open eyes”
Paul Harding, Tinkers

Paul Harding
“... a dim reflection of things fit for the fragility of human beings”
Paul Harding, Tinkers

Maxim Gorky
“Father lay on the floor, by the window of a small, darkened room, dressed in white, and looking terribly long. His feet were bare and his toes were strangely splayed out. His gentle fingers, now peacefully resting on his chest, were also distorted, and the black discs of copper coins firmly sealed his once shining eyes. His kind face had darkened and its nastily bared teeth frightened me”
Maxim Gorky

J.R.R. Tolkien
“Gandalf could be seen, glimmering in the gloom; he seemed small, and altogether alone: grey and bent, like a wizened tree before the onset of a storm.”
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring Photo Guide

Sarah Winman
“They sat at a table in the corner of a pub as night grew through the window behind them. The sounds around were generous and soothing. Men chattered, glasses clinked, jokes coasted and a fire crackled, and now and then someone let out an almighty laugh and it was catching and circled the room like a kid playing tag.”
Sarah Winman, A Year of Marvellous Ways

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