Pale Quotes - Page 13

• Perfect isn't normal, nor is it interesting. I have no features without makeup. I am pale. I have blond lashes. You could just paint my face - it's like a blank canvas. It can be great for what I do.

  Amy Adams

  Makeup, Perfect, Interesting

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• Widespread use of online voting will create the potential for abuse that will make the problems inherent in e-voting pale in comparison.

  Bob Barr

  Voting, Abuse, Problem

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• Hey." She said, looking up from an open book propped up on one knee. She brushed a few strands of pale hair out of her face. Her boyfriend, Christian, lay on the floor near her, his head propped up on her other knee. He greeted me by way of a nod. Concidering the antagonism the sometimes flared up between us, that was almost on par with him giving me a bear hug.

  Richelle Mead

  Christian, Book, Hair

  Richelle Mead (2008). “Frostbite: A Vampire Academy Novel”, p.19, Penguin

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• Nevertheless, in this sea of human wretchedness and malice there bloomed at times compassion, as a pale flower blooms in a putrid marsh.

  Henryk Sienkiewicz

  Flower, Compassion, Sea

  Henryk Sienkiewicz (1912). “In Desert and Wilderness”, p.138, Library of Alexandria

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• Somewhere, things must be beautiful and vivid. Somewhere else, life has to be beautiful and vivid and rich. Not like this muted palette -a pale blue bedroom, washed out sunny sky, dull green yellow brown of the fields. Here, I know ever twist of every road, every blade of grass, every face in this town, and I am suffocating.

  Lisa Ann Sandell

  Beautiful, Blue, Somewhere Else

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• I think you'll have to marry me, Miss Fielding." "To save your reputation?" Derek grinned, bending to kiss the flash of pale throat revealed by the robe. "Someone has to make a respectable man of me.

  Lisa Kleypas

  Kissing, Men, Thinking

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• Peeta crouches down on the other side of her and strokes her hair. When he begins to speak in a soft voice, it seems almost nonsensical, but the words aren’t for me. “With my paint box at home, I can make every color imaginable. Pink. As pale as a baby’s skin. Or as deep as rhubarb. Green like spring grass. Blue that shimmers like ice on water.

  Suzanne Collins

  Baby, Spring, Home

  Suzanne Collins (2010). “Catching Fire (The Second Book of the Hunger Games)”, p.312, Scholastic Inc.

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• Then it’s just Venia, whose skin is so pale her tattoos appear to be leaping off it. Almost rigid with determination, she does my hair and nails and makeup, fingers flying swiftly to compensate for her absent teammates. The whole time, she avoids my gaze. It’s only when Cinna shows up to approve me and dismiss her that she takes my hands, looks me straight in the eye, and says, “We would all like you to know what a…privilege it has been to make you look your best.” Then she hastens from the room.

  Suzanne Collins

  Tattoo, Determination, Eye

  Suzanne Collins (2011). “The Hunger Games Trilogy”, p.800, Scholastic Inc.

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• As Ginny and Hermione moved closer to the rest of the family, Harry had a clear view of the bodies lying next to Fred: Remus and Tonks, pale and still and peaceful-looking, apparently asleep beneath the dark, enchanted ceiling.

  J. K. Rowling

  Lying, Dark, Views

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• Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. . . .

  William Shakespeare

  Art, Grief, Moon

  William Shakespeare, Thomas BOWDLER (F.R.S.) (1831). “The Family Shakspeare ... By T. Bowdler ... Sixth Edition”, p.824

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• Those hours given over to basking in the glow of an imagined future, of being carried away in streams of promise by a love or a passion so strong that one felt altered forever and convinced that even the smallest particle of the surrounding world was charged with purpose of impossible grandeur; ah, yes, and one would look up into the trees and be thrilled by the wind- loosened river of pale, gold foliage cascading down and by the high, melodious singing of countless birds; those moments, so many and so long ago, still come back, but briefly, like fireflies in the perfumed heat of summer night.

  Mark Strand

  Summer, Strong, Passion

  Mark Strand (2014). “Collected Poems”, p.406, Knopf

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• When you finally figure out what you really want, everything else pales in comparison.

  Tammara Webber

  Want, Figures, Comparison

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• a happy birthday this evening, I sat by an open window and read till the light was gone and the book was no more than a part of the darkness. I could easily have switched on a lamp, but I wanted to ride the day down into night, to sit alone, and smooth the unreadable page with the pale gray ghost of my hand

  Ted Kooser

  Book, Night, Light

  Ted Kooser, “A Happy Birthday”

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• Wherever I am, the world comes after me. It offers me its busyness. It does not believe that I do not want it. Now I understand why the old poets of China went so far and high into the mountains, then crept into the pale mist.

  Mary Oliver

  Believe, Mountain, Doe

  Mary Oliver (2004). “Why I Wake Early: New Poems”, p.50, Beacon Press

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• Paco Fuentes, " Mrs. Peterson says, pointing to the table behind Mary. The handsome young man with pale blue eyes like his mother's and smoky black hair like his father's takes his assigned seat.

  Simone Elkeles

  Mother, Father, Eye

  Simone Elkeles (2010). “Perfect Chemistry”, p.356, Bloomsbury Publishing USA

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• and her skin shone luminous and impossibly pale, as if it drank light from the moon.

  Madeline Miller

  Moon, Light, Skins

  Madeline Miller (2011). “The Song of Achilles”, p.58, A&C Black

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• I could not help staring back, for they made quite a contrast: Kate's pale skin and elegant purple suit, Nadira's dusky skin and exotic fiery sari. "Do we clash?" Nadira said dryly. "We certainly do," said Kate. "Would you like me to move?" "Don't trouble yourself.

  Kenneth Oppel

  Moving, Pale Skin, Purple

  Kenneth Oppel (2005). “Skybreaker”, HarperCollins

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• (Title: To the Moon) Art thou pale for weariness Of climbing heaven, and gazing on the earth, Wandering companionless Among the stars that have a different birth,-- And ever-changing, like a joyless eye That finds no object worth its constancy?

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Art, Stars, Eye

  'To the Moon'

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• Fondling,' she saith, 'since I have hemm'd thee here Within the circuit of this ivory pale, I'll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer; Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale: Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry, Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.

  William Shakespeare

  Lying, Ivory, Erotic

  William Shakespeare, James Boswell, Alexander Pope, George Steevens, Samuel Johnson (1821). “The plays and poems of William Shakspeare”, p.24

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• What you think of as they past is a memory trace, stored in the mind, of a former Now. When you remember the past, you reactivate a memory trace -- and you do so now. The future is an imagined Now, a projection of the mind. When the future comes, it comes as the Now. When you think about the future, you do it now. Past and future obviously have no reality of their own. Just as the moon has no light of its own, but can only reflect the light of the sun, so are past and future only pale reflections of the light, power, and reality of the eternal present. Their reality is "borrowed" from the Now.

  Eckhart Tolle

  Memories, Thinking, Reflection

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• Pale as ice you passed me by; I wondered what you really felt, And waited through the changing times, To see if you would one day melt. I thought that ice would melt with warmth, But there were thing I did not know: The sun can touch the outer layers But does not reach the deepest snow. Winter sometimes seems like years, Summer's sometimes far away, But winter always turns to summer, As surely as does night to day.

  John Marsden

  Summer, Winter, Night

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• I could smell the curves of the river beyond the dusk and I saw the last light supine and tranquil upon tideflats like pieces of broken mirror, then beyond them lights began in the pale clear air, trembling a little like butterflies hovering a long way off.

  William Faulkner

  Butterfly, Light, Air

  William Faulkner (2016). “The Sound and the Fury (Third International Edition) (Norton Critical Editions)”, p.90, W. W. Norton & Company

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• If you are not yourself people will look right through you and see the pale shadow of someone else

  Rasheed Ogunlaru

  People, Shadow, Looks

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• Some pale, hueless flicker of sensitivity is in me. God, must I lose it in cooking scrambled eggs for a man.

  Sylvia Plath

  Men, Eggs, Cooking

  Sylvia Plath (2013). “The Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.33, Anchor

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• Pale ink is better than the most retentive memory. If it's written down, you can look it up. Just be damn sure you write it down.

  Harvey Mackay

  Memories, Writing, Ink

  Harvey Mackay (1996). “Swim with the Sharks Without Being Eaten Alive: Outsell, Outmanage, Outmotivate, & Outnegotiate Your Competition”, Ballantine Books

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