Quotes About Contrast

Only when in the sun do you miss the shade.

Fling. That's how he saw their night together. She'd been thinking of box-sets with a blanket over their laps and mini-breaks to Rome or Berlin and making love in front of an open fire or on a deserted beach with the sun reflecting gold in those amber flecks in his eyes . . . and he'd been thinking 'fling'.

You look as scary as a buttered muffin.

The economic boom has given us too many people with helicopters and too many crushed into cockroachy flats from hell, way too many loathing their lives in fluorescent cubicles, enduring for the weekend and then starting all over again, and we're fracturing under the weight of it.

That evening was one of the reasons it had never occurred to me that Rosie could be dead. The blaze of her, when she was that angry: you could have lit a match by touching it to her skin, you could have lit up Christmas trees, you could have seen her from space. For all that to have vanished into nothing, gone for good, was unthinkable.

If you, like me, are essentially a city person, then the chances are that when you imagine a wood you picture a simple thing: matching green trees in even rows, a soft carpet of dead leaves or pine needles, orderly as a child's drawing. Possibly those earnestly efficient man-made woods are in fact like that; I wouldn't know.

She was wearing combat trousers and a wine-colored woollen sweater with sleeves that came down past her wrists, and clunky runners, and I put this down as affectation: Look, I'm too cool for your conventions. The spark of animosity this ignited increased my attraction to her. There is a side of me that is most intensely attracted to women who annoy me.

I'd been expecting someone so nondescript he was practically invisible, maybe the Cancer Man from The X Files, but this guy had rough, blunt features and wide blue eyes, and the kind of presence that leaves heat streaks on the air where he's been.

I like incongruity.

In these rooms, the world's vast hissing tangle of shadows burns away, all its treacherous grays are honed to the stark purity of a bare blade, two-edged: cause and effect, good and evil.

Dublin housing prices are a lot like New York ones, except that in New York, you get New York for your money.

Pale beauty stands aghast," he said, "at the vulgar ugliness of men.

sad things are beautiful only from a distance

Ljubav može biti i guja pritajena u obliku ogrlice i slavuj koji ne prestaje cvrkutati.

Their grandchildren will grow up so middle-class and affluent that the idea of deprivation will have no place in their lives, will seem to belong not to their country, but a much poorer neighbour like Cambodia or Bangladesh.

In France, we leave a single space before and after most punctuation marks. In England, there are generally no spaces before punctuation, and one inserts a double space between sentences.

This was, I realized, similar to Winifred's position. But we came at it from opposite directions—I from that of being more interested in reveling in the good in people and not wasting time with those who had none to offer, while she preferred slander and mockery. I'd never once heard her compliment anyone. When had a kind word ever escaped her hard lips? Misery was her trade and I wanted no part of it.

Er was niets veranderd in de straat, zag ze. Het was nog steeds dezelfde rustige straat die ze altijd had gekend. Hoe was het mogelijk dat levens totaal konden veranderen, konden worden vernietigd, terwijl straten en gebouwen hetzelfde bleven, vroeg ze zich af.

Did she not have it all, the beauty, the brains, the breeding, the brilliant marriage? Yet I felt a tangible sadness lurking within…

Brilliance is an equal movements just as stupidity is!

With my eyes on my wife, I would tell the waitress that I liked my coffee like I liked my women, "black and sweet." This always got me a smile. Then Celestial would say, "I like my mimosa like I like my men: transparent.

Tell her I asked after her." Celestial isn't the kind of singer you would want at your wedding. While her mother is a gravity-defying soprano, she is a scotch-and-Marlboros alto.

While her mother was a gravity-defying soprano, she is a scotch-and-Marlboros alto. Even when she was a little girl, her voice was like the middle of the night.

Una hoja seca de roble, larga y amarillenta, cayó del árbol y fue a posarse sobre el seno izquierdo de la joven, destacando en la blancura de su vestido como una salpicadura de sangre. Estaba ligeramente húmeda y se movía rítmicamente