Best 17 quotes in «swan quotes» category

All art is the result of one’s having been in danger of having gone through an experience all the way to the end when no one can go any further. This is what it is like to be an artist – you are unsteady on the edge of life like a swan before an anxious launching of himself on the floods where he is gently caught.

Every morning before the birds start trilling me their stories, I give birth to a new love through my same old heart when a lake’s placidity finds life in the swans breath Only for you... From the poem 'Only For You

But don't you remember what happened at Eversby Priory, when a goose built her nest in the swan's territory? She thought she was enough like them that they wouldn't mind her. Only her neck was too short, and her legs were too long, and she didn't have the right sort of feathers, so the swans kept attacking and chasing the poor thing until finally she was driven off." "You're not a goose." Pandora's mouth twisted. "I'm an awfully deficient swan, then.

Every lake belongs to the quietness desired by the swans.

Look upon men and things with the inner eye, with its form and desire, never forgetting that the shadow they throw as they pass by, upon hillock or wall, is but the fleeting image of a mightier shadow, which, like the wing of an imperishable swan, floats over every soul that draws near to their soul. Do not believe that thoughts such as these can be mere ornaments, and without influence upon the lives of those who admit them. It is far more important that one’s life should be perceived than that it should be transformed; for no sooner has it been perceived, than it transforms itself of its own accord.

If it looks like a duck and sounds like a duck, it could be a really ugly swan.

If you can add a great beauty to something which is already beautiful, then you must be very beautiful like a white swan adding beauty to a misty lake!

I think I’ll call you Cygnus,” Chelsea said. “The swan?” I said. A bit precious, but it could have been worse. She shook her head. “Black hole. Cygnus X-1.

It's a new direction for you, though, isn't it? Menacing waterfowl?" "I think I prefer the kittens," Harry said. He'd been silent until then. "You dislike moody animals, even if they're beautiful, Harry?" Genevieve teased. "I dislike believing things are one way when they're really another way entirely." And if that wasn't an innuendo, Genevieve didn't know what one was. She just didn't know if he was referring to his own heart, or to 'her', in general. But that could very well be her conscience interpreting it. She sighed. She felt a certain kinship with that swan. Everyone thought Genevieve Eversea was serenity and purity itself. When she really was capable of... alarmingly original behavior.

Ignorance is an ugly duckling, knowledge is a beautiful swan.

I have a message for your daughter,” said Cale. “I am bound to her with cables that not even God can break. One day, if there is a soft breeze on her cheek, it may be my breath; one night, if the cool wind plays with her hair, it may be my shadow passing by.” And with this terrible threat he faced forward and the procession started once more. In less than a minute they were gone. In her shady room Arbell Swan-Neck stood white and cold as alabaster.

Remember you, too, are a beautiful swan.

You can watch a swan catch a fish and have no sadness. You may understand that this expression of you has died so that this other expression of you may live. There is balance and acceptance. Every moment of life is lived with an intensity and presence that is reverential.

She dug into one of the boxes, finding clay angels she’d made in art class when she was seven years old. She found plastic swans on strings and red crystal cardinals. She found a blue-and-white rocking horse covered in glitter. She found a porcelain Santa Claus. She found that she couldn’t figure out where the hell time had gone.

Tell me where the swans go in the winter I need to know if the mute ones can sing. Tell me why stars fall from the sky I need to know if it is luck they bring. Tell me why feathers land near you I need to know if you've injured your wing. Now, tell me where you end, my angel For I no longer know where I begin.

...this refinement and delicacy were what Cale adored; but Cale had been beaten into shape, hammered in dreadful fires of fear and pain. How could she be with him for long? A secret part of Arbell had been searching for some time for a way to leave her lover—although she was unaware of this, it is only fair to record. And so as Cale waited for her to save him while he worked out a way of saving her, she had already chosen the bitter but reasonable path of the good, of the many over the one...

Where the world sees an ugly duckling, the universe sees a beautiful swan.