Peter Quotes

“There was a timelessness here, and yet a sense
of time greater than any before, that could only be found in a lighthouse.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“Wisps of clouds scattered across the heavens, as if brought to their place by a great sigh.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“And beside the slides and the monkey bars of youth, the eternity of the swing lay like a forgotten child.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“The distant stars played battleship
With the light behind her eyes
A glimpse of another world
It never left her countenance”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“Emeralds of the lake sparkled luxuriously, dancing as beckoning figures of the night sky, as the sun began to descend, turning the ripples into opals of many hues.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“There are walks of pain—the pacing-around-your-house-lonesome-heartbreak kind. There are walks of joy—leaping and bold, ecstatic with good news. There are walks of new beginnings—the first steps of a child or a young woman learning to become like a child again.

And there are hornets’ nests of walks that sting you with living terror.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“And in it she found a stillness and peace, a beauty that gently wrapped up the unraveled ends and lost questions and unresolved threads of life’s journey.

In it, she found the entirety, the end, the beginning, and the moments in between, the essence of all she was and had ever been, and all the world was and had ever been.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“For a moment, I was safe, wrapped in a blue-hued embrace.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“The great Rocky Mountains, softly shaded in
gray, were submerged in a sea of fluffy white clouds, feathery wisps enveloping the peaks like a kingdom of the air.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“Soft white billowed about the surface, blowing gently against the windowsill in remembrance of the enigmatic swan’s graceful flight. Or so it reminded me, alluringly tranquil in its flicker of light and form, but not quite translucent. Not quite here.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“A sash of iridescent butterflies fluttered across in remnants of topaz, dipped in distant peacock’s tears as they mingled with forget-me-nots and morning glories, bluebells and cornflowers spilling through the cerulean waters in the flight of an Eastern bluebird. It was no longer solid, but a creature now made of those same prismatic tears it had once touched, too refined and elegant to lose its path even as it faded away.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“. . . golden brilliance splitting through the clouds like the crown of a princess on her coronation day.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“It was as if the lake sensed our exhaustion and demanded no great exertion.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“For, true inspiration always came from a source beyond our own reality.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“My mind was a blank canvas accosted by jumbled thoughts.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“Tendrils of jarring orange tainted the heavens,
warped into tattered remnants of distorted nebulas, the antithetical sunset thrown into macabre shadows of disarray until it became whole, but always broken, a growing mass that rushed sickeningly nearer, as I stared in horrified disbelief through the screen glass door in our living room.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“I twirled for a moment, moonlight kissing my
shoulders.

It felt like not simply the sky, but the air, was
composed of starlight.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“Sometimes there are moments colored in shades
that glimmer like soft silver light
Like a poem, they bid us on.
Their direction unknown, but clear
Sometimes the color is only dirty gray, ugly,
coarse, unrefined
But it propels us forward,
Because, without it, the silver will not stand.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“Oh, I suppose we are all a bit crazier as kids. But I hope you never lose your sense of randomness. I hope you never lose the way you dance in the moonlight, your eyes filled with wonder. I hope you always care as much as you do today. ‘Blasé’ never looked good on anyone. And, if the world decides to be one big snob, ignore it.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“But I did not see any of it.

I saw color.

And, in distant melodies, I remembered color.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“Scattered pebbles reached toward
the waters like a cocoon transformed to liquid
sapphires, and a forest of trees and bramble framed
each curve, mountains rising in the distance.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“I held onto it as the world tilted upside down in
a dizzying vortex of lost dreams.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“Sunken yellow lurched in a mindfield of black
twisted cylinders, falling like poisoned honey across
my vision. It cleared, and became a series of flashing
images, jagged edges of memories, each more
beautiful and terrible than the last, playing across
the screen of blackened cement.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“And that,” Peter said with a smile once again
directed at his brother, “says more than you may
think. I rather miss the days when Paddington and
Pooh bears walked about.”

“And picnics were to be had,” Little Dan added.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“I did not know why that simple action mattered.

Peter had made a logical choice based on empirical data.

But it did. It did. And somehow I knew that I would remember that moment all my days.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“He could not forget. Nor should he.

But today, today I could try to take away—no, alleviate—some of the pain. For just a moment.

Sometimes, sometimes a moment was enough.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“In that moment, I heard a melody, strong and sure, yet as soft as the dancing waves, bringing within their folds a legend passed through bygone years to the present—once
haunting, but now free—a story that a bard might once have told.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“If that was a cliché, it was the truest cliché that ever was.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“The soft voice of a piccolo glided through
the airy expanse of a small, brightly furnished
room. A tall painter, dark locks falling across her face, moved her brush fervently in a wave of inspiration—and yet her ardor seemed
simultaneously as calm as the ripples of the lake that she depicted.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“I’m afraid that my ideas leap forth without much time for collecting them all in one place. Just don’t trip over any artifacts.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter