Quotes About Contrast

He ran his palm up the curve of her back and then removed his arm from around her, amused at how swiftly she rolled off him, fussing with her many skirts to be sure her ruffled breeches weren't exposed. Her shyness baffled him. He could remember how her body looked in firelight, her skin as pale as moonbeams, the tips of her breasts the delicate pink of cacti blossoms. How could such loveliness bring shame?

When she lowered her hands, her reflection shimmered up at her, pale and golden in contrast with the bronzed, dark-haired man next to her. Seeing herself beside him made the nightmarish situation she was in seem all the more real. She turned to look at him, and at the same instant he looked at her. For several heartbeats they simply studied one another. "Even the water sings our song." He sighed and rose to his knees, glancing back down at their shimmering images.

She was a slightly built woman, narrow of hip. He was not a small man.

Why bother with me? Why not find yourself an Indian woman?" "It is you I want." He brushed his knuckles along the hollow of her cheek. "Your skin is moonlight. I am dark like night next to you." He slid his hand behind her neck and drew her toward him. "Sunshine in your hair, moonlight on your skin, this Comanche's bright one, no?

I remember stating that humour was the poor cousin of wit and at best it was the whetstone on which wit sharpened itself – that one laughs at humour but savours wit.

So what if Brian made me feel like fireworks were going off inside me. He could also make me feel like a big fat clod of heartsick dirt. It was like he could take any emotion I had and make it ten times stronger. Which is great when it's happiness but pretty darn awful if it's anything sad.

How could Paolo think the queen and her ilk were my people? I had no more relation to them than a pigeon does to a flock of swans – or a vortex of vultures, which the castle's denizens better resembled in both attire and attitude.

A princess," (Queen Sophia) would proclaim, "requires a graceful and willowy carriage, not the appetite of a swineherd.

You know, life is a jungle and he drove through it in the Popemobile. I walked, using a hatchet to carve my way through the heard of darkness into swamps with leeches and crocodiles ... I know a hell of a lot more about that jungle than he'll ever know. I had to go through it alone and make every wrong turn until I knew it backwards and forwards and, finally, I got out alive.

Like many compositions of its kind - all muscles, square jaws and sunshine - it is stronger on the socialism than the reality

I am so glad and grateful, I am. But sometimes the orchestra plays something in swelling chords of luck and joy, and all I can hear is that one violin sawing out a thin melody of grief

Inside the hospice, Belle glows like a shiny ambassador from the land of youth. It feels almost indecent to bring her.

The world will still be a place where people do terrible things. But here's the thing about despair. We fall into despair when the terrible gangs up on us and we forget the world can also be wonderful. We just see terrible everywhere we look. So what you do for your friend is you bring up the wonderful, so both are side by side. The world is terrible and wonderful at the same time. One doesn't negate the other, but the wonderful keeps us in the game. It keeps us moving forward.

world is terrible and wonderful at the same time.

The world is terrible and wonderful at the same time. One doesn't negate the other, but the wonderful keeps us in the game. It keeps us moving forward.

Just for a moment, Ethan felt his view of life, of the world, stretched painfully. He had never realized that something so frightening could also be beautiful. That a sight could strike fear into his heart and at the same time make him feel privileged to have seen it.

But then there's the other kind. They're not used to being seen. They want it but they don't want it. It's like bright sunlight. You live in the dark all your life, you want nothing more than to step out into that warm sun. But then it hurts your eyes because it's too bright. It burns you.

When one is traveling, everything looks brighter and lovelier. That does not mean it IS brighter and lovelier; it just means that sweet, kindly home suffers in comparison to tarted-up foreign places with all their jewels on.

When I say forever,' Koschei whispered, 'I mean until the black death of the world. An Ivan means just the present moment, the flickering light of it, in a green field, his mouth on yours. He means the stretching of that moment. But forever isn't bright; it isn't like that. Forever is cold and hard and final.

I thought: this is how you make a human being. A human being is beautiful and sick. A human being glitters and starves.

She was beautiful and terrifying, savage and pure.

So much light, sweet girl, begins in the dark.

But when it finally did happen, the alien invasion turned out to be much more like Mr. Looney of the Tunes than Mr. Ridley of the Scott. Point to Nani.

Flowers are always more serious than they appear.