Passing Through Quotes (page 4)
![William Shakespeare quote: "Thou know'st 'tis common; all that livesmust die, Passing..."](/pic/358841/600x316/quotation-william-shakespeare-thou-knowst-tis-common-all-that.jpg)
Mr Earbrass was virtually asleep when several lines of verse passed through his mind and left it hopelessly awake. Here was the perfect epigraph for TUH:A horrid ?monster has been [something] delay'dBy your/their indiff'rence in the dank brown shadeBelow the garden...His mind's eye sees them quoted on the bottom third of a right-hand page in a (possibly) olive-bound book he read at least five years ago. When he does find them, it will be a great nuisance if no clue is given to their authorship.
Edward Gorey
![Jodi Picoult quote: "I used to pretend that I was just passing through this family..."](/pic/354895/600x316/quotation-jodi-picoult-i-used-to-pretend-that-i-was-just-passing-through.jpg)
There would seem to be nothing more obvious, more tangible and palpable than the present moment. And yet it eludes us completely. All the sadness of life lies in that fact. In the course of a single second, our senses of sight, of hearing, of smell, register (knowingly or not) a swarm of events and a parade of sensations and ideas passes through our head. Each instant represents a little universe, irrevocably forgotten in the next instant.
Milan Kundera
I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a stain. The pavilion of Heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams. Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Thus thought I, as by night I read. Of the great army of the dead, The trenches cold and damp, The starved and frozen camp,--The wounded from the battle-plain, In dreary hospitals of pain, The cheerless corridors, The cold and stony floors. Lo! in that house of misery. A lady with a lamp I see. Pass through the glimmering gloom. And flit from room to room. And slow, as in a dream of bliss, The speechless sufferer turns to kiss. Her shadow, as it falls. Upon the darkening walls.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
You go to Brighton! -- I would not trust you so near it as East-Bourne, for fifty pounds! No, Kitty, I have at last learnt to be cautious, and you will feel the effects of it. No officer is ever to enter my house again, nor even to pass through the village. Balls will be absolutely prohibited, unless you stand up with one of your sisters. And you are never to stir out of doors till you can prove that you have spent ten minutes of every day in a rational manner.
Jane Austen
We once knew well our Elder Brother and our Father in Heaven. We rejoiced at the prospects of earth life that could make it possible for us to have a fullness of joy. We could hardly wait to demonstrate to our Father and our Brother, the Lord, how much we loved them and how we would be obedient to them in spite of the earthly opposition of the evil one. Now we are here. Our memories are veiled. We are showing God and ourselves what we can do. Nothing is going to startle us more when we...
Ezra Taft Benson
His gaze, bluntedby the unnumbered processionof iron bars, uncountedas his softly padded steps. Smooth motion of blood and sinewturning in its own, small circleprescribed by bars and walls... and skin, confined. Suddenly, without warning, a flash of light and imagepierces the caged brain, and passing through its beating heartto stillness finds its way.
Rainer Maria Rilke
There is no insurmountable solitude. All paths lead to the same goal: to convey to others what we are. And we must pass through solitude and difficulty, isolation and silence in order to reach forth to the enchanted place where we can dance our clumsy dance and sing our sorrowful song - but in this dance or in this song there are fulfilled the most ancient rites of our conscience in the awareness of being human and of believing in a common destiny.
Pablo Neruda