Dust Quotes - Page 24

• I’ll abide by my word, but you will never win me back! Believe me, in two weeks I will slice open your throat, drink from your blood, and then pierce your heart and laugh while your body explodes into dust. (Zephyra) Beautiful imagery. You should write for Hallmark. (Stryker)

  Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Beautiful, Believe, Writing

  Sherrilyn Kenyon (2008). “One Silent Night”, p.69, Macmillan

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• What do you want exactly? (Fang) An end to the mistreatment of small, fluffy dust bunnies. (Thorn)

  Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Bunnies, Want, Fluffy

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• Cal says that humans are made from the nuclear ash of dead stars. He says that when I die, I'll return to dust, glitter,rain. If thats true, I want to be buried right here under this tree. Its roots will reach into the soft mess of my body and suck me dry. I'll be re-formed as apple blossom. I'll drift down in the spring like confetti and cling to my family's shoes. They'll carry me in their pockets to help them sleep. What dreams will they have then?

  Jenny Downham

  Dream, Stars, Spring

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• He stretched out his hands as he sang, sadly, because all beauty is sad…The poem had done no ‘good’ to anyone, but it was a passing reminder, a breath from the divine lips of beauty, a nightingale between two worlds of dust. Less explicit than the call to Krishna, it voiced our loneliness nevertheless, our isolation, our need for the Friend who never comes yet is not entirely disproved.

  E. M. Forster

  Loneliness, Hands, Two

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• It's drugs, isn't it"? Tara was so innocent. She got pulled into that glamorous lifestyle with all her rich friends...all that cocaine dust floating around, she probably inhaled some by accident, and then -' 'There's no such thing as secondhand cocaine snorting, Mom.

  Lisa Kleypas

  Mom, Drug, Floating

  Lisa Kleypas (2015). “The Travis Family Series, Books 1-3: Blue-Eyed Devil, Smooth Taking Stranger and Sugar Daddy”, p.242, St. Martin's Press

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• When I was six years old I sprinkled sugar on my head, convinced myself it was pixie dust, wished myself invisible, and walked into the boys' bathroom at school.

  Janet Evanovich

  School, Boys, Years

  Janet Evanovich (2007). “Twelve Sharp”, p.325, Macmillan

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• Where is heaven? you ask me, my child,-the sages tell us it is beyond the limits of birth and death, unswayed by the rhythm of day and night; it is not of the earth. But your poet knows that its eternal hunger is for time and space, and it strives evermore to be born in the fruitful dust. Heaven is fulfilled in your sweet body, my child, in your palpitating heart. The sea is beating its drums in joy, the flowers are a-tiptoe to kiss you. For heaven is born in you, in the arms of the mother- dust.

  Rabindranath Tagore

  Mother, Sweet, Children

  Rabindranath Tagore, “Lover's Gifts XLIV: Where Is Heaven”

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• One day you wake up and realize the world can be conquered... I'm going to put a mask on and scrawl my name across the face of the world, build cities of gold, come back and stomp this place flat, until even the bricks are just dust. So you can just shut up. All of you. I'm going to move the world.

  Austin Grossman

  Moving, Cities, Names

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• Yet how hard most people work for mere dust and ashes and care, taking no thought of growing in knowledge and grace, never having time to get in sight of their own ignorance.

  John Muir

  Ignorance, Sight, People

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• One day I wrote her name upon the strand, But came the waves and washèd it away: Again I wrote it with a second hand, But came the tide and made my pains his prey. Vain man (said she) that dost in vain assay A mortal thing so to immortalise; For I myself shall like to this decay, And eke my name be wipèd out likewise. Not so (quod I); let baser things devise To die in dust, but you shall live by fame; My verse your virtues rare shall eternise, And in the heavens write your glorious name: Where, when as Death shall all the world subdue, Our love shall live, and later life renew.

  Edmund Spenser

  Pain, Writing, Men

  'Amoretti' (1595) sonnet 75

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• My name is Zia Rashid.” She tilted her head as if listening. Right on cue, the entire building rumbled. Dust sprinkled from the ceiling, and the slithering sounds of scorpion doubled in volume behind us. “And right now,” Zia continued, sounding a bit disappointed, “I must save your miserable lives.

  Rick Riordan

  Names, Listening, Ceilings

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• Tomorrow we will be nothing but earth and dust. Who will remember the love a soldier once knew?

  Shan Sa

  Soldier, Earth, Tomorrow

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• All stories are lies, but good stories are lies made of light and fire. They lift our hearts out of the dust and out of the grave.

  Mike Carey

  Lying, Heart, Fire

  "Lucifer Book Five".

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• Imagine your body replaced by dust and vapor, and having a tingly feeling in your stomach without even having a stomach. Imagine having to concentrate just to keep yourself from dispersing into nothing. I got so angry, a flash of lightning crackled inside me. “Don’t be that way,” Amos chuckled. “It’s only for a few minutes.

  Rick Riordan

  Feelings, Body, Way

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• I headed towards the mountain, which was an almost irresistible beacon to my storm self. It glowed with heat, pressure, and turbulence—everything a little dust devil like me could want.

  Rick Riordan

  Self, Storm, Devil

  Rick Riordan (2010). “The Kane Chronicles, The, Book One: Red Pyramid”, Hyperion

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• We're here, there, not here, not there, swirling like specks of dust, claiming for ourselves the rights of the universe. Being important, being nothing, being caught in lives of our own making that we never wanted. Breaking out, trying again, wondering why the past comes with us, wondering how to talk about the past at all.

  Jeanette Winterson

  Past, Rights, Important

  Jeanette Winterson (2006). “Lighthousekeeping”, p.142, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• This was the shocking thing; that the slime of the pit seemed to utter cries and voices; that the amorphous dust gesticulated and sinned; that what was dead, and had no shape, should usurp the offices of life. And this again, that that insurgent horror was knit to him closer than a wife, closer than an eye; lay caged in his flesh, where he heard it mutter and felt it struggle to be born; and at every hour of weakness, and in the confidence of slumber, prevailed against him, and deposed him out of life.

  Robert Louis Stevenson

  Struggle, Eye, Voice

  Robert Louis Stevenson (1993). “The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde: The Merry Men and Other Stories”, p.53, Wordsworth Editions

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• I believe in good and evil," said Jem. "And I believe the soul is eternal. But I don't believe in the fiery pit, the pitchforks, or endless torment. I do not believe you can threaten people into goodness." Tessa looked at will. "What about you? What do you believe? "Pulvis et umbra sumus," said Will, not looking at her as he spoke. "I believe we are dust and shadows. What else is there?

  Cassandra Clare

  Believe, People, Evil

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• There are so many who know more than I do, who understand the world better than I do. I would be truly learned, a great scholar, if only I could retain everything I've learned from those I have known. But then would I still be me? And isn't all that only words? Words grow old, too; they change their meaning and their usage. They get sick just as we do; they die of their wounds and then they are relegated to the dust of dictionaries. And where am I in all this?

  Elie Wiesel

  Sick, Would Be, World

  Elie Wiesel (2007). “The Time of the Uprooted: A Novel”, p.17, Schocken

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• And each day brings it's pretty dust, Our soon-choked souls to fll And we forget because we must, And not because we will.

  Matthew Arnold

  Soul, Each Day, Forget

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• I am the servant of the Qur'an as long as I have life. I am the dust on the path of Muhammad, the Chosen One.

  Rumi

  Long, Path, Muhammad

  "Rumi and Self-Discovery" by Ibrahim Gamard, Islamica Magazine Issue 15, Summer 2005.

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• Earth, Ashes to ashes and dust to dust in mother earth we place our trust and as we cycle through our years we water it with blood and tears.

  Nancy Holder

  Mother, Blood, Years

  Nancy Holder, Debbie Viguié (2010). “Wicked 2: Legacy & Spellbound”, p.225, Simon and Schuster

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• And I will show you something different from either Your shadow at morning striding behind you Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you I will show you fear in a handful of dust

  T. S. Eliot

  Morning, Fear, Shadow

  The Waste Land l. 25 (1922)

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• She closed the book and put her cheek against it. There was still an odor of a library on it, of dust, leather, binding glue, and old paper, one book carrying the smell of hundreds.

  Shannon Hale

  Book, Smell, Library

  Shannon Hale (2010). “The Goose Girl”, p.262, A&C Black

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• a man who has decided upon self-destruction is far removed from mundane affairs, and to sit down and write his will would be, at that moment, an act just as absurd as winding up one’s watch, since together with the man, the whole world is destroyed; the last letter is instantly reduced to dust and, with it, all the postmen; and like smoke, vanishes the estate bequeathed to a nonexistent progeny.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Writing, Men, Self

  VLADIMIR NABOKOV' (1965). “THE EYE”

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