Quotes About Contrast

Aunt Winifred says that our hymns, taken all together, contain the worst and the best pictures of heaven that we have in any branch of literature.

pensaba en el amor y en sus espantosas desigualdades. Siempre hay alguien que ofrece la mejilla y otro que la besa.

A medida que envejecían, las mujeres parecían volverse cada vez más masculinas, mientas que el señor Osmond, en cambio, se parecía cada día más a una vieja

One moment flying in green sunlight, then the sky suddenly grey and dark.

Peace Is Nothing Without Anger

I have been rich, and I have been poor. Believe me baby, rich is better!

The dark today leads into light tomorrow; There is no endless joy, ...and yet no endless sorrow.

Her skin was so tan that it reminded Krista of a stain. Coffee on blonde wood.

People always ask me, 'Were you funny as a child?' Well, no, I was an accountant.

It's funny how cucumber water can taste so much better than pickle juice, even though they come from the same source.

My point is, life is about balance. The good and the bad. The highs and the lows. The pina and the colada.

Most people do not consider dawn to be an attractive experience, unless they are still up.

But I saw the pair of them, along with everyone else. Hard to miss. Him towering like a raggedy scarecrow in that flapping black scholar's gown, and the sword always quiet next to him, sweet as honey, and poison with it.

A marriage made in heaven—or in my case, hell.

It's more like Gomez without Morticia.

Though outwardly a gloomy shroud, The inner half of every cloud Is bright and shining: I therefore turn my clouds about And always wear them inside out To show the lining.

He who would know right must first know wrong!

He's not the same as you; he never was. I don't know why it's been so hard for you to see that. He lives in a different world than you do." Sadly he shook his head. "We're all living in a different world any more. I liked the old one better.

All the buildings lining rue de Conservatoire are constructed of cream marble or limestone. When I went outside today, the sky was pale and fierce, on the very cusp of rain. From the top of the church and the conservatory, the contrast was almost imperceptible, as if marble and air danced cheek to cheek.

The sky is the color of gray flannel, the darkness broken only by the dormer window of another early riser. The woman who lives in that attic painted her walls yellow, and the reflected light bounces out like a spring crocus. If light were sound, her window would be playing a concerto.

Theo shook out the half square of heavy silk. "It will make all the difference to this insipid gown." With one sharp wrench she pulled out the lace fichu tucked into her bodice and replaced it with the scarf. It flashed raspberry red against the almond-colored muslin of her gown.

Parisians stand to the side of an opening train door, waiting for passengers to exit, rather than elbowing their way on. They form neat lines at the grocery store. I seem to be the only jaywalker in the city. But let one of them behind a steering wheel Ã¢â'¬Â¦ everything changes. Held up in traffic for more than thirty seconds, a Parisian goes berserk and honks until the surrounding buildings shake.

A gentleman probably would have risen to help, but James didn't feel like a gentleman. He felt like a bloodthirsty ex-pirate with blue balls.

night on the way here, and he has twice the brains of my father.