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Arms Quotes (page 36)

Where is heaven? you ask me, my child,-the sages tell us it isbeyond the limits of birth and death, unswayed by the rhythm of dayand night; it is not of the earth. But your poet knows that its eternal hunger is for time andspace, and it strives evermore to be born in the fruitful dust. Heaven is fulfilled in your sweet body, my child, in yourpalpitating heart. The sea is beating its drums in joy, the flowers are a-tiptoeto kiss you. For heaven is born in you, in the arms of the... Rabindranath Tagore
All the women of this fevered night, all that I had danced with, all whom I had kindled or who have kindled me, all whom I had courted, all who had clung to me with longing, all whom I had followed with enraptured eyes were melted together and had become one, the one whom I held in my arms. Herman Hesse
THE HOST is riding from Knocknarea And over the grave of Clooth-na-bare; Caolte tossing his burning hair And Niamh calling Away, come away: Empty your heart of its mortal dream. The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round, Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound, Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are a-gleam, Our arms are waving, our lips are apart; And if any gaze on our rushing band, We come between him and the deed of his hand, We come between him and... William Butler Yeats
For it was Saturday night, the best and bingiest glad-time of the week, one of the fifty-two holidays in the slow-turning Big Wheel of the year, a violent preamble to a prostrate Sabbath. Piled up passions were exploded on Saturday night, and the effect of a week's monotonous graft in the factory was swilled out of your system in a burst of goodwill. You followed the motto of 'be drunk and be happy,' kept your crafty arms around female waists, and felt the beer going beneficially down into... Alan Sillitoe
Archibald MacLeish quote: "Beauty is that Medusa's head which men go armed to seek and..."
Beauty is that Medusa's head which men go armed to seek and sever, and dead will starve and sting forever. Archibald MacLeish
Then Carol slipped her arm under her neck, and all the length of their bodies touched fitting as if something had prearranged it. Happiness was like a green vine spreading through her, stretching fine tendrils, bearing flowers through her flesh. She had a vision of a pale white flower, shimmering as if seen in darkness, or through water. Why did people talk of heaven, she wondered Patricia Highsmith
Victor Hugo quote: "He never went out without a book under his arm, and he often..."
He never went out without a book under his arm, and he often came back with two. Victor Hugo
Vladimir Nabokov quote: "But in my arms she was always Lolita."
But in my arms she was always Lolita. Vladimir Nabokov
When Janie looked out of her door she saw the drifting mists gathered in the west -- that cloud field of the sky -- to arm themselves with thunders and march forth against the world. Louder and higher and lower and wider the sound and motion spread, mounting, sinking, darking. Zora Neale Hurston
Girl going past clinging to a young man's arm. Putting up her face like a duck to the moon. Drinking joy. Green in her eyes. Spinal curvature. No chin, mouth like a frog. Young man like a pug. Gazing down at his sweetie with the face of a saint reading the works of God. Hold on, maiden, you've got him. He's your boy. Look out, Puggy, that isn't a maiden you see before you, it's a work of imagination. Nail him, girlie. Nail him to the contract. Fly laddie, fly off with your darling vision... Joyce Cary
In Tereza’s eyes, books were the emblems of a secret brotherhood. For she had but a single weapon against the world of crudity surrounding her: the novels. She had read any number of them, from Fielding to Thomas Mann. They not only offered the possibility of an imaginary escape from a life she found unsatisfying; they also had a meaning for her as physical objects: she loved to walk down the street with a book under her arm. It had the same significance for her as an elegant cane from the... Milan Kundera
William Wordsworth quote: "[...]the stately and slow-moving Turk, With freight of..."
[...]the stately and slow-moving Turk, With freight of slippers piled beneath his arm. William Wordsworth
I mostly want to remind her of the recipes of healing, and give her my own made-on-the spot remedy for the easing of her pain. I tell her, “Get a pen. Stop crying so you can write this down and start working on it tonight.” My remedy is long. But the last item on the list says: “When you wake up and find yourself living someplace where there is nobody you love and trust, no community, it is time to leave town – to pack up and go (you can even go tonight). And where you need to go is any place... Bell Hooks
All hopes of eternity and all gain from the past he would have given to have her there, to be wrapped warm with him in one blanket, and sleep, only sleep. It seemed the sleep with the woman in his arms was the only necessity. David Herbert Lawrence
I bet you could catch bullets,” she said, and threw the stick away. “How do you do that?” “By not being human,” he said. “That’s why you could never trick a bear. We see tricks and deceit as plain as arms and legs. We can see in a way humans have forgotten. But you know about this; you can understand the symbol reader. Philip Pullman

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