Rivers Quotes - Page 7

Mornings at Blackwater" For years, every morning, I drank from Blackwater Pond. It was flavored with oak leaves and also, no doubt, the feet of ducks. And always it assuaged me from the dry bowl of the very far past. What I want to say is that the past is the past, and the present is what your life is, and you are capable of choosing what that will be, darling citizen. So come to the pond, or the river of your imagination, or the harbor of your longing, and put your lips to the world. And live your life.

Mary Oliver

Morning, Past, Years

Mary Oliver (2008). “Red Bird: Poems”, p.57, Beacon Press

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When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree by the river of truth, and tell the whole world - No, you move.

J. Michael Straczynski

Jobs, Moving, Superhero

"Amazing Spider-Man #537". Comics by J. Michael Straczynski, December 2006.

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And I look at her sitting there and she looks across the river and we wait as the dawn fully arrives, each of us knowing. Each of us knowing the other.

Patrick Ness

Knowing, Waiting, Sitting

Patrick Ness (2008). “The Knife of Never Letting Go”, Candlewick Press (MA)

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I know there is poor and hideous suffering, and I've seen the hungry and the guns that go to war. I have lived pain, and my life can tell: I only deepen the wound of the world when I neglect to give thanks for early light dappled through leaves and the heavy perfume of wild roses in early July and the song of crickets on humid nights and the rivers that run and the stars that rise and the rain that falls and all the good things that a good God gives.

Ann Voskamp

Thanksgiving, Running, Song

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I notice how it takes a lazy man, a man that hates moving, to get set on moving once he does get started off, the same as when he was set on staying still, like it aint the moving he hates so much as the starting and the stopping. And like he would be kind of proud of whatever come up to make the moving or the setting still look hard. He set there on the wagon hunched up, blinking, listening to us tell about how quick the bridge went and how high the water was, and I be durn if he didn't act like he was proud of it, like he had made the river rise himself.

William Faulkner

Hate, Moving, Men

William Faulkner (1946). “The Sound and the Fury: And As I Lay Dying”, New York : The Modern library

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Then they grow away from the earth then they grow away from the sun then they grow away from the plants and the animals. They see no life. When they look they see only objects. The world is a dead thing for them the trees and the rivers are not alive. the mountains and stones are not alive. The deer and bear are objects. They see no life. They fear. They fear the world. They destroy what they fear. They fear themselves.

Leslie Marmon Silko

Animal, Tree, Mountain

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The Waystone was his, just as the third silence was his. This was appropriate, as it was the greatest silence of the three, wrapping the others inside itself. It was deep and wide as autumn’s ending. It was heavy as a great river-smooth stone. It was the patient, cut-flower sound of a man who is waiting to die.

Patrick Rothfuss

Flower, Autumn, Cutting

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Some people believe that when you die, you cross the River of Death and have to pay the ferryman. People don’t seem to worry about that these days. Perhaps there’s a bridge now.

Terry Pratchett

Believe, Bridges, People

Terry Pratchett (2010). “A Hat Full of Sky: (Discworld Novel 32)”, p.102, Random House

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Before I found Minerva, I'd passed nights with more than my share of women." Thorne groaned. Don't. Just don't. "I've passed time with duchesses and farm girls, and it doesn't matter whether their skirts are silk or homespun. Once you get them bare--" Thorne drew up short. "If you start in on rivers of silk and alabaster orbs, I will have to hit you.

Tessa Dare

Girl, Night, Matter

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A river of words flowed between us.

Ernest Cline

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And that's how we measure out our real respect for people—by the degree of feeling they can register, the voltage of life they can carry and tolerate—and enjoy. End of sermon. As Buddha says: live like a mighty river. And as the old Greeks said: live as though all your ancestors were living again through you.

Ted Hughes

Real, People, Greek

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Nothing is forever, but there's a continuing stream of people who go through our lives and continue with us... Nothing just stops and stays... But it flows on... Like a river.

Danielle Steel

People, Forever, Flow

Danielle Steel (2009). “The Gift”, p.109, Random House

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While Leo fussed over his helm controls, Hazel and Frank relayed the story of the fish-centaurs and their training camp. 'Incredible,' Jason said. 'These are really good brownies.' 'That's your only comment?' Piper demanded. He looked surprised. 'What? I heard the story. Fish-centaurs. Merpeople. Letter of intro to the Tiber River god. Got it. But these brownies--' 'I know,' Frank said, his mouth full. 'Try them with Ester's peach preserves.' 'That,' Hazel said, 'is incredibly disgusting.' 'Pass me the jar, man,' Jason said. Hazel and Piper exchanged a look of total exasperation. Boys.

Rick Riordan

Boys, Men, Training

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Freedom! That was the thought that sung in her heart so that even though the future was so dim, it was iridescent like the mist over the river where the morning sun fell upon it. Freedom! Not only freedom from a bond that irked, and a companionship which depressed her; freedom, not only from the death which had threatened, but freedom from the love that had degraded her; freedom from all spiritual ties, the freedom of a disembodied spirit, and with freedom, courage , and a valiant unconcern for whatever was to come.

W. Somerset Maugham

Spiritual, Morning, Heart

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Time, Kate was learning, was like a river. You might put up obstacles, even divert it briefly, but the river had a will of it's own. It wanted to flow a certain way. You had to force it to change. You had to be willing to sacrifice.

John Stephens

Sacrifice, Might, Way

John Stephens (2011). “The Emerald Atlas”, p.332, Knopf Books for Young Readers

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We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Through the unknown, remembered gate When the last of earth left to discover Is that which was the beginning; At the source of the longest river The voice of the hidden waterfall And the children in the apple-tree Not known, because not looked for But heard, half-heard, in the stillness Between two waves of the sea.

T. S. Eliot

Children, Sea, Two

Four Quartets "Little Gidding" pt. 5 (1942)

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It was like I saw your soul in the notes of the music. And it was beautiful." She leaned forward and touched his face lightly, the smooth skin over his hard cheekbone, his hair like feathers against the back of her hand. "I saw rivers, boats like flowers, all the colors of the night sky.

Cassandra Clare

Beautiful, Flower, Night

Cassandra Clare (2015). “Clockwork Princess”, p.186, Simon and Schuster

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There was a time in our lives when we were so close that nothing seemed to obstruct our friendship and brotherhood, and only a small footbridge separated us. Just as you were about to step on it, I asked you "Do you want to cross the footbridge to me?" - Immediately you did not want to anymore; and when I asked you again you remained silent. Since then mountains and torrential rivers and whatever separates and alienates have been cast between us, and even if we wanted to get together, we couldn't. But when you now think of that little footbridge, words fail you and you sob and marvel.

Irvin D. Yalom

Thinking, Brotherhood, Together

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Some writers later, describing the events of that night and day, wrote that Wan'yen of the Altai had seen a spirit-dragon of the river and become afraid. Writers do that sort of thing. They like dragons in their tales.

Guy Gavriel Kay

Night, Dragons, Events

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There's a flame of magic inside every stone & every flower, every bird that sings & every frog that croaks. There's magic in the trees & the hills & the river & the rocks, in the sea & the stars & the wind, a deep, wild magic that's as old as the world itself. It's in you too, my darling girl, and in me, and in every living creature, be it ever so small. Even the dirt I'm sweeping up now is stardust. In fact, all of us are made from the stuff of stars.

Kate Forsyth

Girl, Stars, Flower

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Where was he, her Alexander, of once? Was he truly gone? The Alexander of the Summer Garden, of their first Lazarevo days, of the hat in his hands, white toothed, peaceful, laughing, languid, stunning Alexander, had he been left far behind? Well, Tatiana supposed that was only right. For Alexander believed his Tatiana of once was gone, too. The swimming child Tatiana of the Luga, of the Neva, of the River Kama. Perhaps on the surface they were still in their twenties, but their hearts were old.

Paullina Simons

Summer, Children, Heart

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I buried her on the shore," he whispered as Fireheart padded up and sat down beside him. "She loved the river." He raised his head to where the first stars of Silverpelt were beginning to appear. "She hunts with StarClan now," he mewed softly. "Someday I'll find her again, and we'll be together.

Erin Hunter

Stars, Together, Firsts

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Four thousand years ago, we, the people of the Indus River basin, had cities that were laid out on grids and boasted underground sewers, while the ancestors of those who would invade and colonize America were illiterate barbarians.

Mohsin Hamid

Years, Cities, America

Mohsin Hamid (2007). “The Reluctant Fundamentalist”, p.34, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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Deep rivers run quiet.

Haruki Murakami

Running, Quiet

Haruki Murakami (1993). “Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World: A Novel”, Vintage

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I sailed on the cold air currents above the rooftops of Paris. I could see the river, the Louvre Museum, the gardens and palaces. And a mouse-yum. Hang on, Carter, I thought. not hunting mice.

Rick Riordan

Garden, Hunting, Museums

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

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