Chestnuts Quotes - Page 2

• I . . . am small, like the wren, and my hair is bold like the chestnut burr; and my eyes like the sherry in the glass that the guest leaves.

  Emily Dickinson

  Eye, Glasses, Hair

  Emily Dickinson, Martha Dickinson Bianchi (1971). “The Life and Letters of Emily Dickinson”, p.241, Biblo & Tannen Publishers

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• Question the Chestnuts. Chestnuts: the new name for boobs? No. NO. Why would you even say that? Get your mind out of the gutter. No, by "chestnuts" I mean, "those old pieces of writing advice that you hear as common refrain." 'Write what you know.' 'Adverbs give Baby Jesus hemorrhoids.' 'If you write a prologue, an orphan loses his sight.' All the "old saws" need to be put on the chopping block.

  Chuck Wendig

  Baby, Jesus, Block

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• The ordinary chestnut can beget a sickly and reluctant laugh, but it takes a horse chestnut to fetch the gorgeous big horse-laugh.

  Mark Twain

  Horse, Laughing, Ordinary

  Mark Twain (1992). “Collected tales, sketches, speeches & essays”

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• For each of us as women, there is a dark place within, where hidden and growing our true spirit rises, beautiful and tough as chestnut stanchions against our nightmare of weakness. Within these deep places, each one of us holds an incredible reserve of creativity and power, of unexamined and unrecorded emotion and feeling

  Audre Lorde

  Beautiful, Creativity, Dark

  Audre Lorde (2012). “Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches”, p.36, Crossing Press

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• A waft of wind came sweeping down the laurel-walk, and trembled through the boughs of the chestnut: it wandered away-away-to an indefinite distance-it died. The nightingale's song was then the only voice of the hour: in listening to it, I again wept.

  Charlotte Bronte

  Song, Distance, Wind

  Charlotte Bronte (2013). “Jane Eyre”, p.320, Simon and Schuster

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• WEATHERS This is the weather the cuckoo likes, And so do I; When showers betumble the chestnut spikes, And nestlings fly; And the little brown nightingale bills his best, And they sit outside at 'The Traveller's Rest,' And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest, And citizens dream of the south and west, And so do I. This is the weather the shepherd shuns, And so do I; When beeches drip in browns and duns, And thresh and ply; And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe, And meadow rivulets overflow, And drops on gate bars hang in a row, And rooks in families homeward go, And so do I.

  Thomas Hardy

  Dream, Weather, Shepherds

  Late Lyrics and Earlier (1922) "Weathers"

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• Chestnut brown canary, ruby throated sparrow, sing a song, don't be long, thrill me to the marrow.

  David Crosby

  Song, Long, Poetry

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• Late one brilliant April afternoon Professor Lucius Wilson stood at the head of Chestnut Street, looking about him with the pleased air of a man of taste who does not very often get to Boston.

  Willa Cather

  Book, Men, Air

  Willa Cather (2013). “The Essential Willa Cather Collection”, p.2, eBookIt.com

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• Here may I live what life I please, Married and buried out of sight, - Married to pleasure and buried to pain, - Hidden away amongst scenes like these, Under the fans of the chestnut trees; Living my child-life over again, With the further hope of a fallen delight, Blithe as the birds and wise as the bees.

  Violet Fane

  Life, Wise, Hope

  Violet Fane (1880). “Collected Verses”

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• I was walking late one night along a tree-lined path; a chestnut fell at my feet. The noise it made as it burst, the resonance it provoked in me, and an upheaval out of all proportion to this insignificant event thrust me into miracle, into the rapture of the definitive, as if there were no more questions-only answers. I was drunk on a thousand unexpected discoveries, none of which I could make use of. ... This is how I nearly reached the Supreme. But instead I went on with my walk.

  Emile M. Cioran

  Night, Feet, Discovery

  Emile M. Cioran (1976). “The Trouble with Being Born”, Viking Books

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• Growth chestnuts have to be placed on the unyielding anvil of biophysical realities and then crushed with the hammer of moral argument.

  Herman E. Daly

  Reality, Growth, Hammers

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• Glory be to God for dappled things-
  For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
  For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
  Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings;
  Landscape plotted and pieced-fold, fallow, and plough;
  And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.
  
  All things counter, original, spare, strange;
  Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
  With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
  He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
  Praise him.

  Gerard Manley Hopkins

  Life, Sweet, Couple

  "Pied Beauty" l. 7 (written 1877)

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• This is what you do on your very first day in Paris. You get yourself, not a drizzle, but some honest-to-goodness rain, and you find yourself someone really nice and drive her through the Bois de Boulogne in a taxi. The rain's very important. That's when Paris smells its sweetest. It's the damp chestnut trees.

  Audrey Hepburn

  Nice, Rain, Paris

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• The chestnut's proud, and the lilac's pretty, The poplar's gentle and tall, But the plane tree's kind to the poor dull city - I love him best of all.

  E. Nesbit

  I Love Him, Cities, Tree

  Edith Nesbit, “Child's Song In Spring”

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• Rochester: "I am no better than the old lightning-struck chestnut-tree in Thornfield orchard…And what right would that ruin have to bid a budding woodbine cover its decay with freshness?" Jane: "You are no ruin sir - no lighting-struck tree: you are green and vigorous. Plants will grow about your roots, whether you ask them or not, because they take delight in your bountiful shadow; and as they grow they will lean towards you, and wind round you, because your strength offers them so safe a prop.

  Charlotte Bronte

  Wind, Roots, Tree

  "Jane Eyre". Book by Charlotte Bronte, October 16, 1847.

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• She felt a little betrayed and sad, but presently a moving object came into sight. It was a huge horse-chestnut tree in full bloom bound for the Champs Elysees, strapped now into a long truck and simply shaking with laughter - like a lovely person in an undignified position yet confident none the less of being lovely. Looking at it with fascination, Rosemary identified herself with it, and laughed cheerfully with it, and everything all at once seemed gorgeous.

  F. Scott Fitzgerald

  Horse, Laughter, Moving

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• When I stand at the top of the Champs-Elysées, with its chestnut trees in flower, its undulations of shining cars, its white spaciousness, I feel as if I were biting into a utopian fruit, something velvety and lustrous and rich and vivid.

  Anais Nin

  Flower, Paris, White

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• I now wish that I had spent somewhat more of my life with verse. This is not because I fear having missed out on truths that are incapable of statement in prose. There are no such truths; there is nothing about death that Swinburne and Landor knew but Epicurus and Heidegger failed to grasp. Rather, it is because I would have lived more fully if I had been able to rattle off more old chestnuts — just as I would have if I had made more close friends.

  Richard Rorty

  Wish, Able, Heidegger

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• My breathing slowed. I shaded her thick chestnut hair resting in a smooth curve against her face, a large bruise blazing across her cheek. I paused, looking over my shoulder to make certain I was alone. I drew her eye makeup, smudged by tears. In her watery eyes I drew the reflection of the commander, standing in front of her, his fist clenched. I continued to sketch, exhaled, and shook out my hands.

  Ruta Sepetys

  Eye, Makeup, Reflection

  Ruta Sepetys (2011). “Between Shades of Gray”, p.117, Penguin

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• In a good mood I call my hair Chestnut with Gold Glints. In a bad mood, I call it mousy brown

  Mary Ann Shaffer

  Hair, Gold, Bad Mood

  Mary Ann Shaffer, Annie Barrows (2009). “The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society”, p.99, A&C Black

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• Heaped on the floor were turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, great joints of meat, sucking pigs, long wreaths of sausages, mince-pies, plum-puddings, bartrels of oysters, re-hot chestnuts, cherry-cheeked apples, juicy oranges, luscious pears, immense twelfth-cakes, and seething bowls of punch that made the chamber dim with their delicious steam.

  Charles Dickens

  Oysters, Turkeys, Games

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• The Arcadians were chestnut-eaters.

  Alcaeus

  Arcadia

  Alcæus, Fragment LXXXVI. "Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations", 1922.

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• And there is quite a different sort of conversation around a fire than there is in the shadow of a beech tree.... Four dry logs have in them all the circumstance necessary to a conversation of four or five hours, with chestnuts on the plate and a jug of wine between the legs. Yes, let us love winter, for it is the spring of genius.

  Pietro Aretino

  Spring, Wine, Winter

  Pietro Aretino (1926). “The Works of Aretino: Biography: de Sanctis. The letters. The sonnets. Appendix”

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• And when my body shall cease, my soul will still be yours, Claire? I swear by my hope of heaven, I will not be parted from you." The wind stirred the leaves of the chestnut trees nearby, and the scents of late summer rose up rich around us; pine and grass and strawberries, sun-warmed stone and cool water, and the sharp, musky smell of his body next to mine. "Nothing is lost, Sassenach; only changed." "That's the first law of thermodynamics," I said, wiping my nose. "No," he said. "That's faith.

  Diana Gabaldon

  Summer, Wind, Law

  Diana Gabaldon (2015). “The Outlander Series Bundle: Books 1, 2, 3, and 4: Outlander, Dragonfly in Amber, Voyager, Drums of Autumn”, p.3834, Delacorte Press

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• Oxford, in those days, was still a city of aquatint. In her spacious and quiet streets men walked and spoke as they had done in Newman's day; her autumnal mists, her grey springtime, and the rare glory of her summer days - such as that day - when the chestnut was in flower and the bells rang out high and clear over her gables and cupolas, exhaled the soft airs of centuries of youth. It was this cloistral hush which gave our laughter its resonance, and carried it still, joyously, over the intervening clamour.

  Evelyn Waugh

  Summer, Laughter, Flower

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