Quotes About Contrast

Light blooms the brighter in the darkest places.

Maybe Ian doesn't come from london at all, but from Idaho. And not the potato part of Idaho, but the crazy, inbred parents locking their children up in a cabin, away from schooling and vitamins, guarding 'em safe with a twelve-gauge shotgun, part of Idaho.

Major Rutledge of the Buffs, Eton and Sandhurst as to intonation, millimetrically tooth-brushed as to moustache, Savile Row as to the quite dazzling sartorial perfection of his khaki drill, was so magnificently out of place in the wild beauty of the rocky, tree-lined bluffs of that winding creek that his presence there seemed inevitable.

In high contrast to modern land-based perceptions, the earliest Scots understood Scotland from the sea, its lochs and rivers. It was probably seen less as a landmass with a scatter of islands offshore and more as a series of related shorelines.

The tree feels splintery, nasty to my touch; it feels Floridian, more reptile than vegetable, more stucco than stone. I do loathe this state, their Elba.

Leaving this changeling for George, she washed his ripe fruit, and bit and broke the skin. An intense tang, the underside of velvet. Then flesh dissolved in a rush of nectar. Juice drenched her hand and wet the inside of her wrist. She had forgotten, if she'd ever know, that what was sweet could also be so complicated, that fruit could have a nap, like fabric, soft one way, sleek the other.

Everybody's serious but me.

Fear was there, too, cold and hot at the same time, making everything in the plain room sharper, with fewer shadows.

Even though Cammie is fluent in fourteen languages and capable of killing a man seven different ways with her bare hands, she has no idea what to do when she meets an ordinary boy who thinks she's an ordinary girl.

It was so rare to find someone who was both so young and so wise, both so fresh and so jaded.

She draped her arm through mine, and, as we walked, I was sure she probably looked chic and cool and European. I felt slow and clumsy and American.

Anyone who has been privileged to witness the purée into which 170,000 bison (or 680,000 bisons' hooves) can turn eighteen motor cars has a pretty good idea of the concept of nothingness.

Some people grumble that roses have thorns; I am grateful that thorns have roses.

A veces el usa lenguaje de surfista californiano igual que todo el mundo aquí, y otras veces parece que ha salido de las páginas de Cumbres Borrascosas. —No. No me has contrariado, — yo le digo riéndome.

Jeremiah had said Dead End was like New York, but with fewer naked cowboys. I'd responded that New York was like Dead End, but with fewer gator wranglers.

On n'est pas le même selon qu'on a mangé du boudin ou du caviar; on n'est pas le même non plus selon qu'on vient de lire du Kant […] ou du Queneau.

C'était justement parce qu'il n'y avait pas de mal en lui que je l'aimais beaucoup. C'était à cause de son étrangeté au mal que je n'avais pas d'amour pour lui. Pourtant, le mal ne me plaît pas . Mais un plat n'est sublime que s'il contient une touche de vinaigre.

People with menial jobs conjure up what Nietzsche calls a background world, forcing themselves to believe in an earthly or heavenly paradise. Their mental Eden is as seductive as their job is repugnant.

Les chiffres, dont j'avais toujours admiré la calme beauté pythagoricienne, devinrent mes ennemis. La calculette aussi me voulait du mal.

Peut-il arriver mieux à une belle jeune fille que de tomber sur un monstre ?

La fenêtre était la frontière entre la lumière horrible et l'admirable obscurité, entre les cabinets et l'infini, entre l'hygiénique et l'impossible à laver, entre la chasse d'eau et le ciel. Aussi longtemps qu'il existerait des fenêtres, le moindre humain de la terre aurait sa part de liberté.

Cuando la existencia se presenta tan desmesuradamente exultante, esto se llama Nueva York. (...) ciudad que desplaza el corazón del pecho a la sien sobre la cual apuntaba permanentemente el revólver del placer: «Exulta o muérete».

La finestra era la frontiera tra la luce orribile e la mirabile oscurità, tra i gabinetti e l'infinito, tra l'igienico e l'impossibile da lavare, tra lo sciacquone e il cielo. Finché esisteranno finestre, l'essere umano più umile della terra avrà la sua parte di libertà.

L'énigme du mal n'est rien comparée à celle de la médiocrité.