Quotes About Broken glass

In my new IFC comedy game show, 'Bunk,' we actually use our intern Patrick as a human timer - giving contestants the time it takes for him to wade through a bag of broken glass for a razor blade, to get gum out of his hair, to pick up every strand from a box of spaghetti I spill on the floor, etc, etc.

Another pop, this time followed by the tinkle of glass sprinkling on the floor.

Shards of glass fell down like lacerated rain

What would I put in my bottom drawer? – I would put only sharp objects, the clean lines of broken glass, the honed steel of paring knives, the tiny saw-teeth of bread knives and the soothing edges of razor blades, I weigh knives in my hands like strange comforters.

Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.

I just have to get rid of this piece of glass,' said Anne. 'I guess something broke here earlier?' 'It was me,' said Patrick.

As I remember them, late summer Saturdays were always hot, dry, and colored a deep green. I know now some Saturdays must have been gray; rain must have made water princesses dance in gutter puddles, as my grandmother assured me they did, each time a drop plunked down. But I will never really believe it rained on Saturdays, for I can remember only the sun playing with bits of broken glass in the vacant lot next to my house and myself running all day up and down the block like a heathen.

Do you know what pain is, Cammie? It's the body's physical response to imminent harm. It is the mind's way of telling us to move our hand off the stove or let go of the broken glass.

I didn't sign up for any of this, but at worst I always thought being the Devil would be at least a little fun. Shooting BBs at Hitler as he tightrope walks over a lake of boiling lemon juice and broken glass. Playing Pin the Tail on the Stalin. After lunch, maybe a few rounds of Ted Bundy Whac-A-Mole.

Ask us, prophet, how we shall callOur natures forth when that live tongue is allDispelled, that glass obscured or brokenIn which we have said the rose of our love and the cleanHorse of our courage, in which beheldThe singing locust of the soul unshelled,And all we mean or wish to mean.

My spite was sharp as broken glass

At the tips of the feathers there is air and at their base: blood. I hold up bones; I wish like broken glass they could court light....still I try to place these pieces back together, to set them firm, to make murdered girls live again.

An ancient proverb summed it up when a wizard is tired of looking for broken glass in his dinner, it ran, he is tired of life.

Yes.' He drank it all down and then casually threw the glass at the fireplace. I stared at the fragments. 'You don't mind, do you?' He gestured to the broken glass with a sarcastic smile. 'I surely hope you don't, because there's nothing much you can do about it if you do mind.

Would the hydrogen catch fire? Alek grasped the edge of the window, hardly feeling the broken glass against his palms. "Deryn" he sobbed. Anything but this.

Jewish shops that were still in operation in Molching. Inside, a small man was stuttering about, crushing the broken glass beneath his feet as he cleaned up.

Their homeopathic letters, Envelopes full of carefully broken glass To lodge behind your eyes so you would see

Ready for the cheap escapeOn the brink of self destruction Widespread panic Broken glass inside my head Bleeding down these thoughts ~

Ouf. That's the one you went with?" she said. "Magic mirrors are for artificer-track seniors." "The others I got were worse," I said, not specifying how. I could have whipped up that frenzy orb in one session with a handful of broken glass. Oh, I'd probably also have needed the life's blood of one of my fellow students, but who's being picky?

I stopped and gazed on the little dull man who was being paid to be a teacher of teachers. I turned and walked to the door, slammed it closed with a bang, and broken glass crashed to the floor. There was uproar behind me in the class, which did not interest me at all.

He was bright as broken glass and sharp enough to cut himself.

The Fairy looked at the broken glass around her feet. Her shattered cage. And the one who'd put her in it was far, far away. But, no, she had caged herself.

There was the added advantage that if the intruder was barefoot, he'd cut himself on the broken glass. Of course, this was unlikely since it was November and forty degrees.

Goodbye. Goodbye. I can't feel you anymore. The night is almost too beautifully pure for my soul to contain. I walk with my arms spread open under the big fat moon. Heroic weeds rise up from the cracks in the sidewalk, and the colored lights of the Hawaiian Breeze ignite the broken glass in the gutter. Goodbye, I say, goodbye, as I disappear little by little into the middle of the middle of my own spectacular now.