Quotes for All
The house became full of love. Aureliano expressed it in poetry that had no beginning and no end. He would write it on the harsh pieces of parchment that Melquiades gave him, on the bathroom walls, on the skin of his arms, and in all of it Remedios would appear transfigured: Remedios in the soporific … Read more
We are a material-mad race of people. Build, increase, expand, pile up, hoard! More and more and more. “If we can just make enough money to-to- !” Jesus said: Sell what ye have, and give alms; provide yourselves bags which wax not old, a treasure in the heavens that faileth not, where no thief approacheth, … Read more
I lingered round them, under that benign sky; watched the moths fluttering among the heath and hare-bells; listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass; and wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth. Emily Bronte
The curtain of the universe is moth-eaten, and through its holes we see nothing now but mask and ghost. Emile M. Cioran
Just then, down through the last glimmer of twilight, stepping high and free, like a cloud, a moth, a ghost in the shape of a horse — came the Silver Stallion. Wild, beautiful, and free as the wind he came, from one kingdom to another, Thowra Elyne Mitchell
What the Man-Moth fears most he must do. Elizabeth Bishop
As the moths around a taper, As the bees around a rose, As the gnats around a vapour, So the spirits group and close Round about a holy childhood, as if drinking its repose. Elizabeth Barrett Browning
One night, a group of moths gathered on a shelf watching a burning candle. Puzzled by the nature of the light, they sent one of their members to go and check on it. The scouting moth circled the candle several times and came back with a description: The light was bright. Then a second moth … Read more
I’ve often found myself preferring second-rate people to supposedly superior people, simply and solely because of their uncontrollable tendency to bang themselves against the sides of life’s vast lampshade like fireflies or moths. Francoise Sagan
At first we raced through space, like shadows and light; her rants, my raves; her dark hair, my blonde; black dresses, white. She’s a purple-black African-violet-dark butterfly and I a white moth. We were two wild ponies, Dawn and Midnight, the wind electrifying our manes and our hooves quaking the city; we were photo negatives … Read more