Best 147 quotes in «shadows quotes» category

You do not insist that I love you but how can I help it when I hear your unbridled laughter? How can I deny it when I see your constellating freckles? You do not insist that I love you but how can I help it when your scent shadows me at night? How can I deny it when your beauty attacks me in the light? You do not insist that I love you, but I insist that I do.

Your name is stifled in my throat rising and falling with every breath. I keep you in silence no longer saying a word. Holding you there cautiously for the sake of your peace, speaking only from the beat in my chest.

...you want the sweetness of our beginning without the bitterness of our struggle - what are you asking - do you want light without shadow? ...

A cheerful music is a powerful light for the shadows of sorrow!

You have a passion, don’t give it up. You’ll need it to keep the shadows at bay when this world goes wrong.

Although I don't know much about anything, I know that I have a story. I know that it is not over. There are shades and shadows of adventures and people and wild new places. Whatever Paris might turn out to be, and whatever Dr. Epstein is able to do, I want to be there to find out.

All shadows of clouds the sun cannot hide like the moon cannot stop oceanic tide; but a hidden star can still be smiling at night's black spell on darkness, beguiling

All that coastline we've been sailing pas is it, but I guess back in the Roman times it was called ... what'd you say, Jason? Bodacious?' 'Dalmatia', Nico said, making Jason jump. Holy Romulus ... Jason wished he could put a bell around Nico di Angelo's neck to remind him the guy was there. Nico has this disturbing habit of standing silently in the corner, blending into the shadows.

And the heart sounds like a sour conch, calls, oh sea, oh lament, oh molten panic, scattered in the unlucky and disheveled waves: the sea reports sonorously on its languid shadows, its green poppies.

And the darkness felt suddenly like home again. Like a familiar place in the shadows where we used to meet.

Ashes, ashes.” Her whispered words of an old rhyme smashed through the silence as thunder, and in unison, the shadow figures answered. “We all fall down.

A shadow archive and an archive of shadows, the literary architectonic demands a resistance to excessive illumination.

As her feet beat the concrete ground beneath them, her chest began to ache. It had been a long time since she had run at a full sprint. She was, quite literally, running for her life, and leaving everything she had known before behind. Regardless of her past experiences, here she was, blindly following a girl, who was virtually a stranger, because she had promised to lead Eleanor to safety.

As long as the sun does not set in your mind, darkness will be nothing but a weak shadow in your life!

As I walk through this valley of shadows and death I curse not the wicked, I praise not the blessed.

Believe against all odds, for this devotion has created art, the devil and gods.

A street full of shadows will teach you what life is much better than the street full of lights!

At moments like this, he was lost to himself, lost in the shadows that hid beneath his heart. Rarely did he let himself go and when he did it was only with her.

Be what you must, because who you are is all of us.

beyond the earth and the shadow the brightness of our love will stay alive

Beyond thought I reach a state. I refuse to divide it up into words - and what I cannot and do not want to express ends up being the most secret of my secrets. I know that I'm scared of the moments in which I don't use thought and that's a momentary state that is difficult to reach, and which, entirely secret, no longer uses words with which thoughts are produce. Is not using words to lose your identity? is it getting lost in the harmful essential shadows?

A boy who'd thrived in the shadows. Now he had to live in the light. To live . . . fiercely. To fight for every breath.

But if you wish, you can imagine that the Shadow does wait for your return and that it does remember everything that has gone before and that it doesn’t let you accept yourself as perfect until you let it. There is truth in that. That is why a child usually cries as soon as it’s born. With its first breath, the Shadow returns.

But most people are content with a life among shadows. They give no thought to what is casting the shadows. They think shadows are all there are, never realizing even that they are, in fact, shadows. And thus they pay no heed to the immortality of their own soul.

Cherish your existence, for memories become legacies and life can change in an instant.

Do not cry to me. I can only cry with you. I will not die for you. I am still too young in the meaning of love. Talk to the Fool, to the one who left a throne to enter an anthill. He will enter your shadow. It cannot taint Him. He has done it before. His holiness is not fragile. It burns like a father to the sun. Touch His skin, put your hand in His side. He has kept His scars when He did not have to. Give Him your pain and watch it overwhelmed, burned away by the joy He takes in loving. In stooping.

Don’t ever be a stupid shadow who follows perfectly his leader no matter what foolishness his leader does!

Don’t give me those blue eyes please, I’ve already given up on our dreams. Nothing can bring back the times where only memories reside.

Don't regret your despondency in the shadows of evil, for the good light never did anything to erase your misery.

Do you keep looking for fault in everything? that is what you will find Do you keep looking for cruelty in people around you? you'll never find the good in them When you stop looking for the shadows, the LIGHT you will see

Emily woke to shadows and their voices. They looked different today, because the entire world hurt. The numbness had worn off sometime between sleep and awake, and she was seeing red. The shadows on the walls were not shadows at all, but red blobs consisting of teeth and claws. Her house reeked of pain. The whole world was fucking bleeding.

Eleanor had heard talk of the rebellion that existed inside the city of Constance before. Most of the information she gathered was considered an old fairy tale by the general public. There were a few stories here and there about people angered by their present living conditions, who had demanded that the center of Constance be held responsible for it. However, information was never passed between the five different sectors. Over the years the tales of the rebellion had become children’s bedtime stories, and people did not take them seriously.

Empires die, like all of us dancers in the strobe-lit dark. See how the light needs shadows.

Eve returned to her lip-gloss application. "Biology. Ms Whittier," she said, not bothering to look at Luke. "Cool. Me too. Can I borrow that?" He reached around her and plucked her lip glaze out of her fingers. She still held the wand. He held out his hand for it. "What? No," Eve said. "Come on, it's my first day. I want to make a good impression. And clearly biology can't be understood without lipstick," Luke joked. "Funny." Eve grabbed the lip glaze back. "This stuff is really good for you." Luke raised his eyebrows. They disappeared into his floppy blond hair. He didn't have expressive dark brows like Mal. "It has green tea antioxidants," Eve continued. "And macadamia extract and aloe vera for healing." "Oh. That's different then," Luke said. "Carry on.

He is there; I feel him, one ten-thousandth of an inch outside my range of vision. I stalk him. He stalks me. The man who wrote these books is not the man who lives in them. That man is the form; Will Henry is the shadow. And now that shadow lives in me. And it lives in you.

Every decision you make in life will stem from one of two options: love or fear. Choose love.

Everything can always be better! To know this is a wit! But if you also know that everything can always be worse and that is wisdom! Wisdom is to see both the lights and the shadows!

For some soldiers, there is a greater war going on behind the gun's shadow of family and friends, than in front of the gun pointing at strange enemies.

For your shadow, you are his shadow!

He clutched at his chest, trying to find the pendant that hung there, to hold onto the reality of it, the reality of his age and the time in which he was living, but the shadows surrounded him on all sides and the fear grew in his heart and he was only a frightened little boy.

Here we go,” Phoenix said, turning back to Nora. “Try not to let this room scare you.

He who hides himself amongst the shadows deserves to live inside the dark shadows! Meet with the light to deserve the light!

He sped down Melrose Avenue, skating from shade to shade to the deeper darkness along the north-facing shops. Papers fluttered and leaves trembled in his wake. Outside a dress boutique two girls turned, startled by the change in air he had caused. They glanced at each other and laughed. The dark pretty one whispered, "Someone just walked over our graves." That made them laugh again, but Stanton sensed more. He twirled back and savored their fear. He wanted to drop into his body and become solid in front of them but he didn't have time. Instead he whispered, "Death is riding on the wind." Their eyes shot open and he sucked in that terror.

I am dreaming, but I don't know it yet.

How incredibly exciting this one meaningless thing can be, this life of yours.

I am a tale, I am a book, written in different languages and styles I can’t be read, can’t be understood, neither by me nor the greatest of minds I am too big, I am too small, to be processed or seen by the naked eye I am too dim, I am too bright, to appear in the shadows or the sunshine.

I am inclined to disagree with Jung when he says the Shadow is the person that we’d rather not be. The Shadow is that unadorned part of ourself, it is flexible the way it stretches and contorts. The Shadow is our dark side, the side we hide and climb into, not the person that we would rather not be, but the person we would rather be.

I am glad that it is old and big. I myself am of an old family, and to live in a new house would kill me. A house cannot be made habitable in a day; and, after all, how few days go to make up a century. I rejoice also that there is a chapel of old times. We Transylvanian nobles love not to think that our bones may be amongst the common dead. I seek not gaiety nor mirth, not the bright voluptuousness of much sunshine and sparkling waters which please the young and gay. I am no longer young; and my heart, through wearing years of mourning over the dead, is not attuned to mirth. Moreover, the walls of my castle are broken; the shadows are many, and the wind breathes cold through the broken battlements and casements. I love the shade and the shadow, and would be alone with my thoughts when I may.

If a shadow begins to think of itself as light, what should we say to him? Don't say anything, just bring him to the light!

If you want to look after your shadow, you just have to look after yourself, that will do!