Quotes About Contrast

They are two people who ought to have, by all rights, remained enemies forever.

You're the sister who spits out toads and snakes. I'm the sister who spits out rubies and diamonds.

I am no Court lady with lips of carmine and butterflies in my hair. I am scrawny, like a stick bug.

She is beautiful but unnerving to look at

Let's start with a love story. Or maybe it's another horror story. It seems like the difference is mostly in where the ending comes.

Her hair falls loose in a cascade of black curls, caught in a crown of magenta bougainvillea.

Lying on his bed feels like wiping my dirty peasant feet on the throne.

I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful When rain bends down the bough; And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted Than you are now. —SARA TEASDALE, "I SHALL NOT CARE

My body has acclimated, and now it craves what it should revile. An apt metaphor for other things.

She turns to me. 'I thought we were nothing alike, you and I. But it turns out we're just the same.' I don't think she believes that to be a good thing.

Man cannot spend all his time doing evil, and even in the company of pirates there must be some sweet moments on their sinister ship when you feel as if you were aboard a pleasure yacht.

She was white like the sands, tawny like the sands, solitary and burning like the sands.

Ah! Comme une existence peut devenir orageuse entre les quatre murs d'une mansarde! L'ame umaine est une fée, elle métamorphose une paille en diamants; sous sa bageutte les palais anchantés éclosent comme les fleurs des champs sous les chauds inspirations du soleil.

Elle était jolie par juxtaposition.

Laughter is the representative of Tragedy, when Tragedy is away.

Lenin in a top hat and frock coat would be a far greater anomaly than the Grand Lama of Thibet or a Zulu chief in that costume.

I sit on my duff, smoke cigarettes and watch TV. I'm not exactly a poster girl for healthy living.

How was it possible for the world to be so beautiful and so cruel at the same time?

Bonnie is so 'calm,' you see. The opposite of me. She speaks in one of those soft . . . low . . . melodious voices that make you want to punch a wall.

The house was literally perfect now. Instead of being thrilling, that suddenly seemed depressing.

It's like telling a blind person, "Oh, sure, you get to see mountains and sunsets, but there are also rubbish dumps and pollution!

The weather wasn't helping. It was far too lovely, mocking her pain.

She'd take Jane Turner's brisk snippiness any day over this woman's prissy sweetness with its razor-sharp edges.

Bad boys don't bring you coffee in bed, I'll tell you that for free.