Dust Quotes - Page 25

• And I know now that all the time I was trying to get out of the dust, the fact is, what I am, I am because of the dust. And what I am is good enough. Even for me.

  Karen Hesse

  Trying, Facts, Good Enough

  Karen Hesse (1997). “Out of the Dust”, p.222, Scholastic Inc.

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• The moon in all her immaculate purity hung in the sky, laughing at this world of dust. She congratulated me for my carefully considered maneuvers and invited me to share in her eternal solitude.

  Shan Sa

  Moon, Sky, Laughing

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• Most of humanity, he said, have eyes that are so caked shut with the dust of deception they will never see the truth, no matter who tries to help them.

  Elizabeth Gilbert

  Eye, Humanity, Deception

  Elizabeth Gilbert (2009). “Eat Pray Love: One Woman's Search for Everything”, p.163, Bloomsbury Publishing

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• Tell it to the cleaning lady on Monday. Because you'll be dust on Monday. Because I'll be pulverizing you sometime over the weekend. And the cleaning lady... cleans up... dust. She dusts. And she has weekends off, so... Monday. Right?

  Bryan Lee O'Malley

  Monday, Weekend, Cleaning

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• Life is like molten glass. It flows, it's flexible, it can be molded and shaped and...what do you say? Ah, yes. It holds vast potential. You have a number of uncertainties in your melt right now. But they will always be there in one form or another. Always. Unlike molten glass, life can't be fixed or frozen into a pretty vase and placed on a shelf to gather dust.

  Maria V. Snyder

  Glasses, Numbers, Life Is Like

  Maria V. Snyder (2017). “The Glass Series Complete Collection: Storm Glass\Sea Glass\Spy Glass”, p.358, MIRA

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• A wine shop was open and I went in for some coffee. It smelled of early morning, of swept dust, spoons in coffee-glasses and the wet circles left by wine glasses.

  Ernest Hemingway

  Morning, Coffee, Wine

  Ernest Hemingway (2016). “A Farewell to Arms”, p.139, Hamilton Books

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• I'M SIGNIFICANT!!! ... Say's the dust speck.

  Bill Watterson

  Significant, Specks

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• We cant go around picking up every pile of dust in the place just in case it turns out to be Gregor in the morning." -Pg.242-

  Cassandra Clare

  Morning, Cases, Turns

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• Reality is a state of mind. To the banker, the money in his ledger book is all very real, though he doesn't actually see it or touch it. But to the Brahma, it simply doesn't exist the way the air and the earth, pain and loss do. To him, the banker's reality is folly. To the banker, the Brahma's ideas are as inconsequential as dust.

  Libba Bray

  Pain, Real, Book

  Libba Bray (2015). “The Gemma Doyle Trilogy”, p.217, Delacorte Press

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• i will show you fear in a handful of dust." t.s. eliot we don't actually fear death, we fear that no one will notice our absence, that we will disappear without a trace.

  T. S. Eliot

  Absence, Fear Of Death, Disappear

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• We do not always remember the things that do no credit to us. We justify them, cover them in bright lies or with the thick dust of forgetfulness.

  Neil Gaiman

  Lying, Credit, Remember

  Neil Gaiman (2011). “American Gods”, p.309, Hachette UK

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• I look'd to Heav'n, and try'd to pray; But or ever a prayer had gusht, A wicked whisper came and made My heart as dry as dust.

  Samuel Taylor Coleridge

  Prayer, Heart, Wicked

  Samuel Taylor Coleridge (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge (Illustrated)”, p.1246, Delphi Classics

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• The emotions of men, however, were of a different order. They were pesky annoyances, small dust devils at her feet. Her knack for causing heartbreak was innate, but her vitality often made people forgive her romantic misdeeds.

  Steve Martin

  Men, Order, Feet

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• We had so many dreams as children. Where do they go when we grow? Are they swallowed up by the mundane things of everyday life? Or do we lose them, leave them behind us in the dust, for new children to find and take up?

  Helen Hollick

  Dream, Children, Growing Up

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• Now the mountains were getting that pink tinge, I mean the rocks, they were just solid rock covered with the atoms of dust accumulated there since beginningless time. In fact I was afraid of those jagged monstrosities all around and over our heads. "They're so silent!" I said. "Yeah man, you know to me a mountain is a Buddha. Think of the patience, hundreds of thousands of years just sitting there bein perfectly perfectly silent and like praying for all living creatures in that silence and just waitin for us to stop all our frettin and foolin.

  Jack Kerouac

  Mean, Men, Thinking

  Jack Kerouac (2007). “Road Novels 1957-1960”

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• He loved a book because it was a book; he loved its odor, its form, its title. What he loved in a manuscript was its old illegible date, the bizarre and strange Gothic characters, the heavy gilding which loaded its drawings. It was its pages covered with dust — dust of which he breathed the sweet and tender perfume with delight.

  Gustave Flaubert

  Sweet, Book, Character

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• I wish I could close my eyes and be blown into dust and nothingness, feel all my thoughts disperse like dandelion fluff drifting off on the wind. But his hands keep pulling me back: into the alley, and Portland, and a world that has suddenly stopped making sense.

  Lauren Oliver

  Eye, Drifting Off, Hands

  Lauren Oliver (2015). “Delirium Trilogy: Delirium, Pandemonium, Requiem”, p.259, Hachette UK

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• I remember once walking out hand in hand with a boy I knew, and it was summer, and suddenly before us was a field of gold. Gold as far as you could see. We knew we'd be rich forever. We filled our pockets and our hair. We were rolled in gold. We ran through the field laughing and our legs and feet were coated in yellow dust, so that we were like golden statues or golden gods. He kissed my feet, the boy I was with, and when he smiled, he had a gold tooth. It was only a field of buttercups, but we were young.

  Jeanette Winterson

  Summer, Boys, Hair

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• Before birth; yes, what time was it then? A time like now, and when they were dead, it would be still like now: these trees, that sky, this earth, those acorn seeds, sun and wind, all the same, while they, with dust-turned hearts, change only.

  Truman Capote

  Inspirational, Heart, Wind

  Truman Capote (2007). “Other Voices, Other Rooms”, p.107, Vintage

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• To all my librarian friends, champions of books, true magicians in the House of Life. Without you, this writer would be lost in the Dust.

  Rick Riordan

  Book, House, Champion

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• The poets and philosophers I once loved had it wrong. Death does not come to us all, nor does the passage of time dim our memories and reduce our bodies to dust. Because while I was considered dead, and a headstone had been engraved with my name, in truth my life was just beginning.

  Kevin Williamson

  Memories, Names, Doe

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• Everything established, settled, everything to do with home and order and the common ground, has crumbled into dust and has been swept away in the general upheaval and reorganization of the whole of society. The whole human way of life has been destroyed and ruined. All that's left is the bare, shivering human soul, stripped to the last shred, the naked force of the human psyche for which nothing has changed because it was always cold and shivering and reaching out to its nearest neighbor, as cold and lonely as itself.

  Boris Pasternak

  Lonely, Home, Order

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• So you want to know all about me. Who I am. What chance meeting of brush and canvas painted the face you see? What made me despise the girl in the mirror enough to transform her,turn her to into a stranger, only not. So you want to hear the whole story. Why I swerved off the high road, hard left to nowhere, recklessly indifferent to those coughing my dust, picked up speed no limits,no top end, just a high velocity rush to madness.

  Ellen Hopkins

  Girl, Who I Am, Mirrors

  Ellen Hopkins (2012). “Crank”, p.6, Simon and Schuster

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• You're crying?" he said. "No, I- " I tore my gaze away. "Just dust. From the path. Simon's that way." I tried to pass him, but he stooped, trying to get a loom of my face. When I wouldn't let him, he caught my chin. I jerked back, flinching at his touch, heart thudding at it, too. I told myself Simon was wrong. I'd never be dumb enough to fall for Derek. But I had. With him so close, my stomach kept doing weird flips. It wasn't fear. It hadn't been fear for awhile. "You have been crying," he said, voice softer.

  Kelley Armstrong

  Fall, Heart, Voice

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• Lilt pulled away. "I saw what he was doing, so I cleared a path for him. I helped him do it..." She shook her head, tears tracking the dust off her face, and turned to stare at the fallen tower. "Have we all gone mad to want this?

  Scott Westerfeld

  Mad, Tears, Towers

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