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Redding Quotes (page 23)

Your little sister. Has tossed her Untied hair forward. Like a living veil, Like a fragrant hedge, And peers, with such eyes! Through a fragrant veil, Through a dark hedge ... How sweet it is to only. Think of such little things. Fruits have ripened. On all the longing branches In your nightly garden, Chinese lanterns like red fruits. Sway and illuminate. The longing branches. Rustled by the night wind. In your little garden ... How sweet it is to only. Think of such little things. Hugo von Hofmannsthal
Well, I certainly don't," said Percy sanctimoniously. "I shudder to think what the state of my in-tray would be if I was away from work for five days." "Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?" said Fred. "That was a sample of fertilizer from Norway!" said Percy, going very red in the face. "It was nothing personal!" "It was," Fred whispered to Harry as they got up from the table. "We sent it. J. K. Rowling
Oh Paris. From red to green all the yellow dies away. Paris Vancouver Hyeres Maintenon New York and the Antilles. The window opens like an orange. The beautiful fruit of light("Windows") Guillaume Apollinaire
Whites were bright as fresh-fallen snow, yellow shone like gold, reds turned to flame, but the shadows were so black they looked like holes in the world. George R. R. Martin
I want to go home. Then he mentally underlined the last sentence three times, rewrote it in huge letters in red ink, and circled it before putting a number of exclamation marks next to it in his mental margin. Neil Gaiman
I don't care if we don't sleep at all tonight, Let's just fix this whole thing now. I swear to God we're gonna get it right. If you lay your weapon down. Red wine and ambien. You're talking shit again. It's heartbreak warfare. John Mayer
At Loch Mor we walked down a spongy hill to a valley. The sun was dropping then dropped, leaving a sky of frilly reds. The moon appeared too soon. The valley sloped around a teardrop-shaped lake, pink with the bizarre fuchsia bursts of the late-coming sunset. Violet heather bruised the green weedy ground as we jumped down. This was a place conceived in a burst of emotion by a melancholy boy. Dave Eggers
White is not a mere absence of color; it is a shining and affirmative thing, as fierce as red, as definite as black. God paints in many colors; but He never paints so gorgeously, I had almost said so gaudily, as when He paints in white. Gilbert K. Chesterton
Spring TO what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough. You can no longer quiet me with the redness Of little leaves opening stickily. I know what I know. The sun is hot on my neck as I observe The spikes of the crocus. The smell of the earth is good. It is apparent that there is no death. But what does that signify? Not only under ground are the brains of men Eaten by maggots. Life in itself Is nothing, ... Edna St. Vincent Millay
Andre Breton quote: "I love you on the surface of seas. Red like the egg when it is..."
I love you on the surface of seas. Red like the egg when it is green Andre Breton
Stephen King quote: "The redness was going out of the light now, the remains of the..."
The redness was going out of the light now, the remains of the day were a fading pink, the color of wild roses. Stephen King
So with curious eyes and sick surmise. We watched him day by day, And wondered if each one of us. Would end the self-same way, For none can tell to what red Hell. His sightless soul may stray. Oscar Wilde
Never dream with thy hand on the helm! Turn not thy back to the compass; accept the first hint of the hitching tiller; believe not the artificial fire, when its redness makes all things look ghastly. To-morrow, in the natural sun, the skies will be bright; those who glared like devils in the forking flames, the morn will show in far other, at least gentler, relief; the glorious, golden, glad sun, the only true lamp - all others but liars! Herman Melville
For herself, she wanted sleet and ice, howling winds, thunder to shake the very stones of the Red Keep. She wanted a storm to match her rage. George R. R. Martin
The door of the jail being flung open, the young woman stood fully revealed before the crowd. It seemed to be her first impulse to clasp the infant closely to her bosom that she might conceal a certain token which was wrought or fastened to her dress. In a moment, however, wisely judging that one token of her shame would but poorly serve to hide another, she took the baby on her arm, and, with a burning blush and yet a haughty smile, looked around at her townspeople and neighbors. On the... Nathaniel Hawthorne

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