Pale Quotes - Page 26

• Imagine not being frightened by any feeling. Imagine knowing that nothing will destroy you. That you are beyond any feeling, and state. Bigger than. Vaster than. That there is no reason to use drugs because anything a drug could do would pale in comparison to knowing who you are.

  Geneen Roth

  Fear, Knowing Who You Are, Drug

  Geneen Roth (2011). “Women Food and God: An Unexpected Path to Almost Everything”, p.57, Simon and Schuster

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• Warm evenings, pale mornings, bottle of blues

  Gram Parsons

  Morning, Bottles, Evening

  Song: Brass Buttons, Album: Grievous Angel, 1974

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• When a man lies he murders some part of the world. These are the pale deaths men miscall their lives.

  Paul Gerhardt

  Life, Death, Lying

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• If you go through any newspaper or magazine and look for active, kicking verbs in the sentences, you will realize that this lack of well used verbs is the main trouble with modern English writing. Almost all nonfiction nowadays is written in a sort of pale, colorless sauce of passives and infinitives, motionless and flat as paper.

  Rudolf Flesch

  Writing, Editing, Kicking

  Rudolf Flesch (1946). “The Art of Plain Talk”

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• O cruel cloudless space,
  And pale bare ground where the poor infant lies!
  Why do we feel restored
  As in a sacramental place?
  Here Mystery is artifice,
  And here a vision of such peace is stored,
  Healing flows from it through our eyes.

  May Sarton

  Lying, Healing, Eye

  May Sarton (2014). “In Time Like Air: Poems”, p.55, Open Road Media

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• Knowledge that does not generate achievement is a pale and bloodless thing, unworthy of mankind.

  Will Durant

  Achievement, Doe, Mankind

  Will Durant (2012). “Story of Philosophy”, p.172, Simon and Schuster

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• On the whole, age comes more gently to those who have some doorway into an abstract world-art, or philosophy, or learning-regions where the years are scarcely noticed and the young and old can meet in a pale truthful light.

  Freya Stark

  Art, Philosophy, Light

  Freya Stark (1964). “The Journey's Echo: Selections”

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• Understand, I'll slip quietly away from the noisy crowd when I see the pale stars rising, blooming, over the oaks. I'll pursue solitary pathways through the pale twilit meadows with only this one dream: You come too.

  Rainer Maria Rilke

  Dream, Stars, Reading

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• We call those poets who are first to mark, Through earth's dull mist the coming of the dawn, Who see in twilight's gloom the first pale spark, While others only note that day is gone.

  Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.

  Twilight, Dawn, Gone

  Oliver Wendell Holmes (1875). “Songs of Many Seasons : 1862-1874”, p.110

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• O God! I screamed, and "O God! Again and again; for there before my eyes - pale and shaken, and half fainting, and groping before him with his hands, like a man restored from death - there stood Henry Jekyll."

  Robert Louis Stevenson

  Halloween, Eye, Men

  Robert Louis Stevenson (2015). “The Complete Novels of Robert Louis Stevenson (Illustrated Edition): Treasure Island, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Kidnapped, Catriona, The Black Arrow: A Tale of the Two Roses, The Master of Ballantrae, St Ives: Adventures of a French Prisoner in England…”, p.327, e-artnow

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• A man may have lived all of his life in the gray, and the land and trees of him dark and somber. The events, the important ones, may have trooped by faceless and pale. And then-the glory-so that a cricket song sweetens his ears, the smell of the earth rises chanting to his nose, and dappling light under a tree blesses his eyes. Then a man pours outward, a torrent of him, and yet he is not diminished.

  John Steinbeck

  Song, Eye, Dark

  John Steinbeck (2002). “East of Eden”, p.106, Penguin

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• I suppose everybody has a mental picture of the days of the week, some seeing them as a circle, some as an endless line, and others again, for all I know, as triangles and cubes. Mine is a wavy line proceeding to infinity, dipping to Wednesday which is the colour of old silver dark with polishing and rising again to a pale gold Sunday. This day has a feeling in my picture of warmth and light breezes and sunshine and afternoons that stretch to infinity and mornings full of far-off bells.

  Angela Thirkell

  Morning, Sunshine, Sunday

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• Later when I thought of the chickens, one of those rare pale blue eggs rose up into my throat. The chickens had been part of our family, and the egg in my throat was the feeling of something missing. It was hard and smooth and heavy, but also so fragile it might break and make me cry. It was the feeling of growing out of a favorite shirt, milk spilled on the floor, the last bit of honey in the jar, falling apple blossoms. It was the lump in the throat behind everything beautiful in life.

  Melissa Coleman

  Beautiful, Fall, Blue

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• I’ll tell you now. That silence almost beat me. It’s the silence that scares me. It’s the blank page on which I can write my own fears. The spirits of the dead have nothing on it. The dead one tried to show me hell, but it was a pale imitation of the horror I can paint on the darkness in a quiet moment.

  Mark Lawrence

  Fear, Writing, Quiet Moments

  Mark Lawrence (2011). “Prince of Thorns”, p.26, Penguin

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• The weather varies between heavy fog and pale sunshine; My thoughts follow the exact same process.

  Virginia Woolf

  Sunshine, Fog, Weather

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• But I also believe there is enormous value in the piece of writing that goes no further than the one person for whom it was intended, that no combination of written words is more eloquent than those exchanged in letters between lovers or friends, or along the pale blue lines of private diaries, where people take communion with themselves.

  Betsy Lerner

  Believe, Writing, Blue

  Betsy Lerner (2010). “The Forest for the Trees (Revised and Updated): An Editor's Advice to Writers”, p.19, Penguin

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• The dark is settling in. The sky glows yellow- pale- anemic from the city lights. The Tenderloin at night is a real horror show. Every 3 feet someone is accosting you with a plea for a handout or the offer of drug or sex. The men and women wander the streets and alleys with a threatening, violont want. Takers looking to take, hustlers looking to hustle, all trying to satisfy a craving that is parpatually unsatisfiable. And tonight I'm one of them.

  Nic Sheff

  Sex, Real, Dark

  Nic Sheff (2012). “Tweak: Growing up on Crystal Meth”, p.45, Simon and Schuster

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• History with its flickering lamp stumbles along the trail of the past, trying to reconstruct its scenes, to revive its echoes, and kindle with pale gleams the passion of former days.

  Winston Churchill

  Passion, Past, Echoes

  Sir Winston Churchill, Winston Churchill (1965). “Great destiny: sixty years of the memorable events in the life of the man of the century recounted in his own incomparable words”

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• Bears, dragons, tempestuous on mountain and river, Startle the forest and make the heights tremble. Clouds darken beneath the darkness of rain, streams pale with a pallor of mist. The gods of Thunder and Lightning Shatter the whole range.

  Li Bai

  Spring, Rain, Winter

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• Pornography is just 'fast-food feminine energy', it will always leave you wanting more, with little or no nutritional value. There is nothing ful-filling about pornography, it pales in insignificance to a fully embodied loving woman.

  Barry Long

  Littles, Wanting More, Energy

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• I have sat here happy in the gardens, Watching the still pool and the reeds And the dark clouds. . . . But though I greatly delight In these and the water lilies, That which sets me nighest to weeping Is the rose and white colour of the smooth flag-stones, And the pale yellow grasses Among them.

  Richard Aldington

  Happiness, Dark, Garden

  Richard Aldington (1928). “Collected poems”

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• The night is quiet. Like a camp before battle. The city beset by a thing unknown and will it come from forest or sea? The murengers have walled the pale, the gates are shut, but lo the thing's inside and can you guess his shape? Where he's kept or what's the counter of his face? Is he a weaver, bloody shuttle shot through a time warp, a carder of souls from the world's nap? Or a hunter with hounds or do bone horses draw his dead cart through the streets and does he call his trade to each? Dear friend he is not to be dwelt upon for it is by just such wise that he's invited in

  Cormac McCarthy

  Wise, Horse, Night

  Cormac McCarthy (2010). “Suttree”, p.4, Pan Macmillan

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• Never wedding, ever wooing, Still a lovelorn heart pursuing, Read you not the wrong you're doing In my cheek's pale hue? All my life with sorrow strewing; Wed or cease to woo.

  Thomas Campbell

  Heart, Sorrow, Hue

  Samuel Rogers, Thomas Campbell, James Montgomery, Charles Lamb, Henry Kirke White (1830). “The poetical works of Rogers, Campbell, J. Montgomery, Lamb, and Kirke White: complete in one volume”, p.167

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• Where, where for shelter shall the guilty fly, When consternation turns the good man pale?

  Edward Young

  Men, Good Man, Guilt

  Edward Young (1813). “The poetical works of Edward Young. Collated with the best eds.: by T. Park”

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• See, the curse of children! In life they keep us frequently in tears, And in the cold grave leave us in pale fears.

  John Webster

  Children, Tears, Cold

  1612 The White Devil, act 1, sc.2.

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