Drew Quotes (page 7)
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The sky was different, without color, taut and unforgiving. But the water was the most unforgiving thing, nearly black at times, cold enough, I knew, to kill me, violent enough to break me apart. The waves were immense, battering rocky beaches without sand. The farther I went, the more desolate it became, more than any place I'd been, but for this very reason the landscape drew me, claimed me as nothing had in a long time.
Jhumpa Lahiri
So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near--Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you . . ."Yes, that is so," said the fox. But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince. Yes, that is so," said the fox. Then it has done you no good at all!"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields.
Antoine de Saint-Exupery
Great engines crawled across the field; and in the midst was a huge ram, great as a forest-tree a hundred feet in length, swinging on mighty chains. Long had it been forging in the dark smithies of Mordor, and its hideous head, founded of black steel, was shaped in the likeness of a ravening wolf; on it spells of ruin lay. Grond they named it, in memory of the Hammer of the Underworld of old. Great beasts drew it, orcs surrounded it, and behind walked mountain-trolls to wield it.
J. R. R. Tolkien
You live as if you were destined to live forever, no thought of your frailty ever enters your head, of how much time has already gone by you take no heed. You squander time as if you drew from a full and abundant supply, though all the while that day which you bestow on some person or thing is perhaps your last.
Lucius Annaeus Seneca
The light was leavingin the west it was blue. The children's laughter sangand skipping just like the stones they threwthe voices echoed across the wayits getting late. It was just another nightwith the sun setand the moon rise not so far behindto give us just enough lightto lay down underneath the starslisten to papas translationsof the stories across the skywe drew our own constellations
Jack Johnson
The Winter Photograph was my Ariadne, not because it would help me discover a secret thing (monster or treasure), but because it would tell me what constituted that thread which drew me toward Photography. I had understood that henceforth I must interrogate the evidence of Photography, not from the viewpoint of pleasure, but in relation to what we romantically call love and death.
Roland Barthes
You live as if you were destined to live forever, no thought of your frailty ever enters your head, of how much time has already gone by you take no heed. You squander time as if you drew from a full and abundant supply, so all the while that day which you bestow on some person or thing is perhaps your last. You have all the fears of mortals and all the desires of immortal? What foolish forgetfulness of mortality to defer wise resolutions to the fiftieth or sixtieth year, and to intend to...
Denis Diderot
Her heart felt as if it were breaking in her breast, bleeding and bleeding, young and fierce. From grief over the warm and ardent love which she had lost and still secretly mourned; from anguished joy over the pale, luminous love which drew her to the farthest boundaries of life on this earth. Through the great darkness that would come, she saw the gleam of another, gentler sun, and she sensed the fragrance of the herbs in the garden at world's end.
Sigrid Undset
With their hands still joined, he laid them on her stomach. "I love you," he murmured, "both."Caine." And his name was muffled against his mouth. "I have so much to learn in only seven months."We have a lot to learn in seven months," he corrected. "Why don't we go upstairs." He buried his face into her hair and drew in her scent. "Expectant mothers should lie down-" he lifted his head to grin at her "-often."With expectant fathers," Diana agreed, laughing when he swept her into his arms.
Nora Roberts
will you remember this day Gogol?'his father asked , turning back to look at him, his hands pressed like earmuffs to either side of his head . 'How long do I have to remember it' . Over the rise and fall of the wind , he could hear his father's laughter.He was standing there , waiting for Gogol to catch up , putting out a hand as Gogol drew near. 'Try to remember it always' he once Gogol had reached him , leading him slowly back towards the breakwater , to where his mother and Sonia stood...
Jhumpa Lahiri