Quotes About Shadow

Truth forever on the scaffold, Wrong forever on the throne—Yet that scaffold sways the future, and, behind the dim unknown,Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above his own.

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more

It is not the descent toward the shadow nor the rise toward the light that makes us superior, it is the endless struggle between the two where greatness of character resides." - Sanguinius

Lyndon was his father's shadow and replica.

MIDNIGHT The stars are soft as flowers, and as near; The hills are webs of shadow, slowly spun; No separate leaf or single blade is here- All blend to one. No moonbeam cuts the air; a sapphire light Rolls lazily, and slips again to rest. There is no edgèd thing in all this night, Save in my breast.

Where I am, it is always night.

Beware that you do not lose the substance by grasping at the shadow.

Ah, mais c'est Anglais ca," he murmured, "everything in black and white, everything clear cut and well defined. But life, it is not like that, Mademoiselle. There are things that are not yet, but which cast their shadow before.

If you care for money too much, it is only the money you see, everything else is in shadow.

A volte si apre un abisso fra il passato e il futuro. Quando una persona si è incamminata nella valle all'ombra della morte, e ne torna fuori alla luce del sole...è allora, mon cher, che comincia una nuova vita. Il passato non serve più.

At the end of the small hours: life flat on its face, miscarried dreams and nowhere to put them, the river of life listless in its hopeless bed, not rising or falling, unsure of its flow, lamentably empty, the heavy impartial shadow of boredom creeping over the quality of all things, the air stagnant, unbroken by the brightness of a single bird.

Unease, fear, guilt, and lack of confidence. Resentment is the other side of that. It is your shadow. It is a false and fake gold. Resentment is a trap of the heart into which everyone falls.

It is always Dark. Light only hides the Darkness. —DANIEL KIAN MC KIERNAN

Another kind of wind, raging out of the Old Sun all the while, but it slips through the hull and the photon sails like they aren't there at all. Dark-wind, some call it. Or ghost-wind or shadow-wind.

A person shows himself for an instant as in a photograph but clearer and in the background something which is bigger than his shadow.

I'm a shadow whisperer: I hide in the shadows. And I tend to avoid places where I might get photographed and end up with my picture in the press.

Contrast is what makes photography interesting.

I was part of that group of kids growing up in the '80s under the Reagan regime, what I used to call 'living in the shadow of Dr. Manhattan,' where we would have dreams all the time that New York City was being destroyed, and that that wall of light and destruction was rolling out and would just devour our neighborhood.

So if the Infernum is an empy interior, what's Heaven in their conception?" I asked, nudging him. "A second inside-out house, inside, or rather 'outside' the first," he said. "If you cross its threshold, you realize our world, for all its wonder, has been but a shdow, another kind of empitness. Heaven is more than this.

So if the Infernum is an empy interior, what's Heaven in their conception?" I asked, nudging him. "A second inside-out house, inside, or rather 'outside' the first," he said. "If you cross its threshold, you realize our world, for all its wonder, has been but a shadow, another kind of emptiness. Heaven is more than this

The city's all brightness and shadow, deckle-edged, bluer than air-there's no help anywhere-you no longer know how to listen.

It was late afternoon, and the sun laid sharp golden halo on the ridges of the dunes, glinting on the grey-green leaves of the scrub. Behind the line of dunes that closed the valley to the south, the sea was peacefully snoring. Blue shadow crept across the flat sand floor, and the air grew sharp.

Cel mai r?u demon la lumina zilei poate ar?ta ridicol,dar în umbr? creÈ™te în în?lÈ›ime È™i cap?t? proporÈ›ii incredibile.

Because outside of God's shadow I was just a gaudy plastic float filled with stubborn air, drifting off like a blind Jonah in search of Plan B, manipulating circumstances and wondering why I kept waking up in my very own Tarshish.