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Quotes About Limpid

Oh, the sin of writing such words – words which are clear as crystal, limpid and musical as bubbling springs, words which sparkle and glow like the poisoned diamonds of the Medicis!
~ Robert W. Chambers
There used to be a middle way, too, when her attention was focused but vast, and time felt like a limpid pool, ringed by sunlit ferns. An underground spring fed the pool from deep below, creating a gentle current of words that bubbled up, while on the surface, breezes shimmered and played.
~ Ruth Ozeki
The walls of Her office were cinder block and limpid shatterproof, offering a panoramic view of Eilidon's rooftops and towers.
~ Elizabeth Bear
He was troubled; this brain, so limpid in its blindness, had lost its transparency; there was a cloud in this crystal.
~ Victor Hugo
The mathematician's best work is art, a high perfect art, as daring as the most secret dreams of imagination, clear and limpid. Mathematical genius and artistic genius touch one another.
~ Gosta Mittag-Leffler
I remember writing '5 Dollars' out of intense listening sessions of Bruce Springsteen. I don't know if it's obvious, but I was obsessed with how limpid Bruce Springsteen's melodies are: It's such a great way to do storytelling and to still be melodic and catchy.
~ Christine and the Queens
But she didn't fear the moon because she was more lunar than solar and could see with wide-open eyes in the dark dawns the sinister moon in the sky. So she bathed all over in the lunar rays, as there are others who sunbathed. And was becoming profoundly limpid.
~ Clarice Lispector
Nostalgia is a fragile and tender anguish, basically different, more intimate, more human than the other pains we had endured till then [...] Nostalgia is a limpid and clean pain, but demanding; it permeates every minute of the day, permits no other thoughts and induces a need for escape.
~ Primo Levi
May my life someday be so limpid that the Muses will deign to mirror themselves in it and that we can see the reflections of their smiles and their dances skimming across its surface.
~ Marcel Proust