Best 38 quotes in «lamp quotes» category

Night fell, and her husband came to bed, and as soon as they had finished kissing and embracing each other, he fell fast asleep. Psyche was not naturally either very strong or very brave, but the cruel power of fate made a virago of her. Holding the carving knife in a murderous grip, she uncovered the lamp and let its light shine on the bed. At once the secret was revealed. There lay the gentlest and sweetest of all wild creatures, Cupid himself, the beautiful Love-god, and at sight of him the flame of the lamp spurted joyfully up and the knife turned its edge for shame. Psyche was terrified. She lost all control of her senses, and pale as death, fell trembling to her knees, where she desperately tried to hide the knife by plunging it in her own heart. She would have succeeded, too, had the knife not shrunk from the crime and twisted itself out of her hand.

She especially liked my bedside lamp, which had a five-sided porcelain shade. Unlit, the shade seemed like bumpy ivory. Lit, each panel came to life with the image of a bird: a blue jay, a cardinal, wrens, an oriole, and a dove. Kathleen turned it off and on again, several times. "How does it do that?" "The panels are called lithophanes." I knew because I'd asked my father about the lamp, years ago. "The porcelain is carved and painted. You can see it if you look inside the shade." "No," she said. "It's magic. I don't want to know how it's done.

On this material plane, each living being is like a street lantern lamp with a dirty lampshade. The inside flame burns evenly and is of the same quality as all the rest—hence all of us are equal in the absolute sense, the essence, in the quality of our energy. However, some of the lamps are “turned down” and having less light in them, burn fainter, (the beings have a less defined individuality, are less in tune with the universal All which is the same as the Will)—hence all of us are unequal in a relative sense, some of us being more aware (human beings), and others being less aware (animal beings), with small wills and small flames. The lampshades of all are stained with the clutter of the material reality or the physical world. As a result, it is difficult for the light of each lamp to shine through to the outside and it is also difficult to see what is on the other side of the lampshade that represents the external world (a great thick muddy ocean of fog), and hence to “feel” a connection with the other lantern lamps (other beings). The lampshade is the physical body immersed in the ocean of the material world, and the limiting host of senses that it comes with. The dirt of the lampshade results from the cluttering bulk of life experience accumulated without a specific goal or purpose. The dirtier the lampshade, the less connection each soul has to the rest of the universe—and this includes its sense of connection to other beings, its sense of dual presence in the material world and the metaphysical world, and the thin connection line to the wick of fuel or the flow of electricity that resides beyond the material plane and is the universal energy. To remain “lit” each lantern lamp must tap into the universal Source of energy. If the link is weak, depression and-or illness sets in. If the link is strong, life persists. This metaphor to me best illustrates the universe.

Some people treat loyalty as a lamp: they think, they can just switch it on/off and believe, you won't notice the difference...

[T]he ground directly beneath the lantern is always the darkest.

Sometimes you're the lamp post, and sometimes you're the dog.

The flame of the spirit is a burning lamp.

The flame of the spirit is burning lamp.

The Holy Bible is a light of a lamp.

The entire astronomical observatory team were installing a mercury argon spectral lamp (HgAr) during a training session when one of the workers smashed the mercury filled spectral lamp. We continued the training session with a new mercury spectral lamp from stock. A week later I was at the doctors complaining of a variety of health conditions that were classic mercury poisoning.

The holy lamp is forever burning; Holy Bible

The moth prefers the moon and detests the sun, while the butterfly loves the sun and hides from the moon. Every living creature responds to light. But depending on the amount of light you have inside, determines which lamp in the sky your heart will swoon.

THE MOTH AND THE BUTTERFLY When the sun rises over the horizon, the butterfly emerges to dance in its brilliant light. It flickers its colorful wings with euphoria, To celebrate all the beauty found in the majestic garden of life. When the moon arrives in the darkness, The moth appears at the disappearance of sunlight. It flickers its pale wings as it shakes from its deep slumber, To go search for food To carry it through the night. The moth prefers the moon and detests the sun, while the butterfly loves the sun and hides from the moon. Every living creature responds to light, But depending on the amount of light you have inside, Determines which lamp in the sky Your heart will swoon. Poetry by Suzy Kassem

The lamp of light.

The sacred lamp, shall never cease to burn to give light.

The smog curled between the streetlamps and the spokes of the wrought iron framework. It seemed through your body and into your bones.

You understand why you must go through with this marriage.” “You say you couldn’t live with yourself if anything happened to Caspida. Yet you ask me to live with myself, knowing I sentenced you to this!” He holds up the lamp. “What’s the difference?” I look away angrily. “The difference is that this is my choice, Aladdin.” “Well, it’s a stupid choice!” I stand up. “Promise me you’ll go through with it.” He shuts his eyes. “Promise me! Please!” He opens his eyes then, and they are filled with pain. But he nods. “I have to hear you say it.” “I promise.

You are a lamp to give light to people; you must mount the lamp stand and shine bright! Don't hide your gifts; expose and share them freely!

You exalt me Bati, This is the message to the society, Brightest day demands struggling, suffering and sacrifice, heroic labor would suffice.

As I walk , I light the lamp of my soul. As I walk, I light the wick of another’s soul.

A lamp cannot play the role of the Sun and the Sun cannot play the role of a lamp.

God’s word is lamp that lights my path.

Det er midnatt: bøkene lukket, ryddet bort til det ordløse møte med tankens gjæster, og lampen slukket.

Don't take purposeless people as your leaders. Their life is like an empty book with a nice cover paper and you have attempted to buy it. Of which use will it be to you for you to read blank pages.

Goodbye, Zahra,” says the princess, and she pulls her arm back, preparing to throw the lamp. “Do it, Princess,” says a voice, “and I will tear your head from your shoulders.

Had I been educated by my employers as to how hazardous mercury filled spectral lamps were, I would never have taken an obsolete mercury filled spectral lamp home.

How Many Michals Does it Take to Change a Lightbulb? And the lamp was on Darkening up the room And I sat, alone Looking for the switch To turn off the darkness

it behooves us old stagers to keep our lamps trimmed and burning to the last, and not trust to the sun’s looming. Thoreau, Henry David. The Complete Works of Henry David Thoreau: Canoeing in the Wilderness, Walden, Walking, Civil Disobedience and More (Kindle Locations 12226-12227). . Kindle Edition.

In high altitude astronomy, we would throw broken mercury spectral lamps into the closest trash can.

I consider myself fortunate that I no longer live in the home where I broke a mercury filled astronomical spectral lamp.

Do it, Zhian urges. Let me out, Zahra. Let me out. Listen to me first, I demand. There are jinn charmers out here—did you hear them? They are playing, filling the hills with their charms. You must not go near the humans, or we will both end up right back where we started. We could take them together, he replies. You and I—working as a team. We would be unstoppable! To that, I only send him an image of the lamp, and he curses. I quickly relay to him the deal I made with Nardukha. Zhian stews in his jar, his impatience hammering through my thoughts. When I finish, he spits, So do it! Let me out! I glance around, making sure we’re alone, then lift the jar high before dashing it against a rock. The pottery shatters, as does the charm that held Zhian captive inside. A burst of smoke fills the air, red and angry. It swells and thunders. “Quiet!” I hiss. “They’ll come!” I do not fear mortals! “Then you’re an idiot. If it weren’t for me, they’d still have you bottled up in their crypts.” My father would not allow it! Zhian swirls around me, his wind pulling at my hair and my black cloak. Dragon heads materialize in the smoke, snapping and hissing dangerously close to my face. He would burn their city for my sake! He would sink their ships and wreck their walls!

It was that time of dusk when there is a—deepening of the interior shadows. It is a melancholy time: all you need do is switch on one lamp and the inside and the outside will separate, held apart by the reflections in the glass, and evening will begin.

It’s not too late,” he says. “Zahra, I—” “Sh.” I lay a finger across his lips. “Don’t say it. You will marry Caspida, and you will learn to love each other. You will live a happy life, long after my lamp has passed to new hands.” “I won’t make my third wish,” he says. “That’s the answer! If I don’t make the wish, you can stay here in the palace for as long as you want. You’ll never have to go back to your lamp. We can fight off anyone who tries to take you from me.

It would appear that the blue sky is actually produced by the solar wind and solar radiation exciting air molecules to emit light, just like a neon lamp!

Love is the lamp that keeps burning to give light.

Love is like a light of a lamp.

Love, the exotic bird, came and went. Heart forgot love. Joy, the majestic willow, wept and died. Mind forgot joy. Hope, the basement lamp, fell and broke. Soul forgot hope. Self, the anxious caterpillar, took flight and dropped. Self forgot self. You, my all, became all my reasons. Reasons left. You left. I never forgot.

May your lamp forever burn at night.