Shrouds Quotes - Page 2

• Every winter, When the great sun has turned his face away, The earth goes down into a vale of grief, And fasts, and weeps, and shrouds herself in sables, Leaving her wedding-garlands to decay- Then leaps in spring to his returning kisses.

  Charles Kingsley

  Spring, Grief, Kissing

  Charles Kingsley (2008). “The Saint's Tragedy: Easyread Super Large 18pt Edition”, p.138, ReadHowYouWant.com

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• Up and away for life! be fleet!-
  The frost-king ties my fumbling feet,
  Sings in my ears, my hands are stones,
  Curdles the blood to the marble bones,
  Tugs at the heart-strings, numbs the sense,
  And hems in life with narrowing fence.
  Well, in this broad bed lie and sleep,-
  The punctual stars will vigil keep,-
  Embalmed by purifying cold;
  The winds shall sing their dead-march old,
  The snow is no ignoble shroud,
  The moon thy mourner, and the cloud.

  Ralph Waldo Emerson

  Stars, Kings, Lying

  Ralph Waldo Emerson (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson (Illustrated)”, p.234, Delphi Classics

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• The nightingales are singing near The Convent of the Sacred Heart, And sang within the bloody wood When Agamemnon cried aloud, And let their liquid siftings fall To stain the stiff dishonored shroud.

  T. S. Eliot

  Fall, Heart, Singing

  "Sweeney Among the Nightingales" l. 35 (1919)

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• I like to write in a shroud of secrecy because I have to keep finding ways to scare myself.

  M. Night Shyamalan

  Halloween, Writing, Scare

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• Our CO2 mixes with everyone else's within a year, then hangs around for centuries like a shroud.

  William H. Calvin

  Years, Climate, Century

  William H. Calvin (2010). “Global Fever: How to Treat Climate Change”, p.173, William H. Calvin

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• Dark, dark! The horror of darkness, like a shroud, wraps me and bears me on through mist and cloud.

  Sophocles

  Halloween, Dark, Clouds

  Sophocles (2016). “Oedipus the King, Oedipus at Colonus, Antigone”, p.85, Sophocles

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• The Death Mist is not for helping!" Akhlys shrieked. "It shrouds mortals in misery as their souls pass into the Underworld. It is the very breath of Tartarus, of death, of despair!" "Awesome," Percy said. "Could we get two orders of that to go?

  Rick Riordan

  Order, Two, Soul

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• I turned and faced the Olympians. "We need a shroud," I announced, my voice cracking. "A shroud for the son of Hermes.

  Rick Riordan

  Son, Voice, Needs

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• Come away, come away, Death, And in sad cypress let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath, I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white stuck all with yew, O prepare it! My part of death no one so true did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strewn: Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown. A thousand thousand sighs to save, lay me O where Sad true lover never find my grave, to weep there!

  William Shakespeare

  Sweet, Flower, White

  'Twelfth Night' (1601) act 2, sc. 4, l. 51

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• You are hard at work madam ," said the man near her. Yes," Answered Madam Defarge ; " I have a good deal to do." What do you make, Madam ?" Many things." For instance ---" For instance," returned Madam Defarge , composedly , Shrouds." The man moved a little further away, as soon as he could, feeling it mightily close and oppressive .

  Charles Dickens

  Men, Feelings, Littles

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• Mother, whose heart hung humble as a button the bright splendid shroud of your son, Do not weep. War is kind.

  Stephen Crane

  Mother, War, Heart

  Stephen Crane (1899). “War Is Kind”, p.4, Library of Alexandria

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• We think of women at every age: while still children, we fondle with a naïve sensuality the breasts of those grown-up girls kissing us and cuddling us in their arms; at the age of ten, we dream of love; at fifteen, love comes along; at sixty, it is still with us, and if dead men in their tombs have any thought in their heads, it is how to make their way underground to the nearby grave, lift the shroud of the dear departed women, and mingle with her in her sleep

  Gustave Flaubert

  Love, Girl, Dream

  Gustave Flaubert (2005). “November: Fragments in a Nondescript Style”, Hesperus Press

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• Man is conceived in sin and born in corruption and he passeth from the stink of the didie to the stench of the shroud. There is always something (All The King's Men)

  Robert Penn Warren

  Kings, Men, Sin

  Robert Penn Warren (2006). “All the King's Men”, p.235, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• A Christmas frost had come at midsummer; a white December storm had whirled over June; ice glazed the ripe apples, drifts crushed the blowing roses; on hayfield and cornfield lay a frozen shroud: lanes which last night blushed full of flowers, to-day were pathless with untrodden snow; and the woods, which twelve hours since waved leafy and flagrant as groves between the tropics, now spread, waste, wild, and white as pine-forests in wintry Norway.

  Charlotte Bronte

  Flower, Night, June

  Charlotte Bronte (2016). “Jane Eyre (World Classics, Unabridged)”, p.286, Vij Books India Pvt Ltd

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• And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own funeral drest in his shroud.

  Walt Whitman

  Sympathy, Funeral, Leaves Of Grass

  Walt Whitman (2009). “The Americanness of Walt Whitman”, p.41, Wildside Press LLC

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• The first step towards vice is to shroud innocent actions in mystery, and whoever likes to conceal something sooner or later has reason to conceal it.

  Jean-Jacques Rousseau

  Secret, Vices, Likes

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• When the starry sky, a vista of open seas, or a stained-glass window shedding purple beams fascinate me, there is a cluster of meaning, of colors, of words, of caresses, there are light touches, scents, sighs, cadences that arise, shroud me, carry me away, and sweep me beyond the things I see, hear, or think, The "sublime" object dissolves in the raptures of a bottomless memory. It is such a memory, which, from stopping point to stopping point, remembrance to remembrance, love to love, transfers that object to the refulgent point of the dazzlement in which I stray in order to be.

  Julia Kristeva

  Memories, Thinking, Sky

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• Soft you day, be velvet soft, My true love approaches, Look you bright, you dusty sun, Array your golden coaches. Soft you wind, be soft as silk My true love is speaking. Hold you birds, your silver throats, His golden voice I'm seeking. Come you death, in haste, do come My shroud of black be weaving, Quiet my heart, be deathly quiet, My true love is leaving.

  Maya Angelou

  Heart, Love Is, Wind

  Maya Angelou (2015). “The Complete Poetry”, p.18, Random House

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• Rachel,” came a raspy voice from the upper level, and both Trent and I turned. It was Quen, wrapped in a blanket as if it was a death shroud, the black-haired intern at his side, supporting him. His hair was plastered to his skull with sweat, and I could see him wavering as he stood there. “Don’t touch Trenton,” he said, his gravelly voice clear in the hush, “or I’m going to have to come down there…and smack you around.

  Kim Harrison

  Hair, Sweat, Voice

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• They come to us, these restless dead, Shrouds woven from the words of men, With trumpets sounding overhead (The walls of hope have grown so thin And all our vaunted innocence Has withered in this endless frost) That promise little recompense For all we risk, for all we've lost.

  Mira Grant

  Wall, Men, Risk

  Mira Grant (2010). “Feed: The Newsflesh Trilogy:”, p.111, Hachette UK

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• The worst part was the silence. Death was supposed to be loud — gunshots, explosions, screams and thunder. Not this eerie quiet that wrapped around me like a shroud.

  Karen Chance

  Eerie, Silence, Quiet

  Karen Chance (2011). “Hunt the Moon: A Cassie Palmer Novel”, p.21, Penguin

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• Lips to lips, mouth to mouth, Comes the speaker of the shrouds, Suck in the spirit, speak the words, Let secrets of the dead be heard.

  Yasmine Galenorn

  Secret, Mouths, Lips

  Yasmine Galenorn (2009). “Night Huntress: An Otherworld Novel”, p.94, Penguin

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• When life backs you into a corner and offers you no escape, when your friends, your lover, and your family abandon you, when you're at the end of your rope, panicked, alone, and losing your mind, you know you'd give anything to make your problems go away. Then, desperate and eager, you will come to Unicorn Lane, seeking salvation in its magics and secrets. You'll do anything, pay any price. Unicorn Lane will take you in, shroud you in its power, fix your problems, and exact its price. And then you will learn what 'anything' really means.

  Ilona Andrews

  Mean, Giving, Magic

  Ilona Andrews (2012). “Magic Bites: A Special Edition of the First Kate Daniels Novel”, p.34, Penguin

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• We mustn't claim to stand for our King but then deny Him by living a fleshly existence. Our King's Mighties don't shy away from the blazing searchlight of God's Word, but rather, willingly expose their souls and cry, 'Dear King, if there be anything that stands between You and me, if there be anything that shrouds Your glory, if there be anything that will weaken my sword in battle, purge it, slay it, utterly destroy it!

  Eric Ludy

  Kings, Soul, Battle

  Eric Ludy, Leslie Ludy (2009). “Wrestling Prayer: A Passionate Communion with God”, p.147, Harvest House Publishers

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• It all began, as I have said, when the Boss, sitting in the black Cadillac which sped through the night, said to me (to Me who was what Jack Burden, the student of history, had grown up to be) "There is always something." And I said, "Maybe not on the Judge." And he said, "Man is conceived in sin and born in corruption and he passeth from the stink of the didie to the stench of the shroud. There is always something.

  Robert Penn Warren

  Night, Men, Judging

  Robert Penn Warren (2006). “All the King's Men”, p.286, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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