Quotes About Shadows

Men and women who'd remained in the shadows came forth, bringing their maledictions with them.

I was still chasing shadows, but I thought I understood what cast them.

Shadows pulsed on the edge of my vision; I experienced a great feeling of imminence. It was like wings over my head; wings I knew too well.

I was dazed, perplexed by the eternal flights of shallow steps that made me feel like a tiny, crawling creature negotiating a fallen pack of cards. From every shadowed corner, rampant stone lions and gryphons leered down at me with lolling tongues. Ancient swords clashed upon the walls around me.

The whole world looked red to him, shadows were crimson, the sunset above the spires of the city an incredible blaze of infernal hues.

He knew there were dreams waiting for him, and could even feel their shadowy presences rusting in the corners of the room, among his clothes in the wardrobe, beneath his bed.

What he saw was the willow pale, willow slim form of the witch-boy, robed now in black, whose hair was an indigo snake, whose eyes were black as the shadows of his hair.

He felt that once the dark of the forest closed over them, they would never see clear sunlight again. Yet it was the kind of fear that excited him, made him want to dare its shadows.

The day was dark as a lawyer's soul.

Logan glanced at the clock on the cooker: nearly five minutes fast. The room was bathed in the pale orange glow of the overcast sky, the back garden a jungle of silhouettes and shadows through the window. He filled the kettle, then poured half of it out, before sticking it on to boil. The growing rumble drowned out the babble on his Airwave handset as DI Bell got his firearms team into place.

Buried emotions are caged nighthawks that have fallen in love with the moon. They don't understand the sun because they were born with the darkness of shadows in their soul.

I love to make songs out of some of those shadows - you know, some of the things you lie awake thinking about, social anxieties and romantic insecurities and all that stuff.

So lately, been wonderingWho will be there to take my placeWhen I'm gone, you'll need love To light the shadows on your face.

You were in your warm secure cave with enough food and your own woman while a storm and wild beasts raged outside. The shadows and shapes which seemed so solid at night evaporated in the daylight. You couldn't blot out the rest of the world during the day, it was everywhere, oppressive, top-heavy, leaning on you.

Truth is light. Lies are shadows. Music is both.

And am I—am I clean?" I asked finally, dreading the answer. "Yes," he said. "No corruption could have hidden from that last spell. If we'd done it sooner, it would have killed you. The shadows would have had to steal the breath from your blood to live.

The Dragon raised a hand. "Kulkias vizhkias haishimad," he said, and a light shone out of his hand and onto her skin. Where it played over her I saw thick green shadows, mottled like deep layers of leaves on leaves. Something looked at me out of her eyes, its face still and strange and inhuman. I recognized it: what looked out at me was the same thing I had felt in the Wood, trying to find me. There was no trace of Kasia left at all.

Blue shadows stretched out over the snow, cast by a pale thin light shining somewhere behind me, and as my breath rose in quick clouds around my face, the snow crunched: some large creature, picking its way toward the sleigh.

A painting walks into the room supported by the collector. It is the painting of a nude by a contemporary artist. She is scarred by shadows from venetian blinds. "The ritual scarification of light and shadow," I say. But am thinking, silently, the female nude is the self-ironization of the male. She, in his shadow, by design.

Every paragraph, every sentence, seemed written in a musical key. The narrative drew her eyes through a cadence of timbres and colors that sketched a theater of shadows in her mind. She read without pause for two hours, relishing every sentence and dreading the moment she would reach the end.

Hay cosas que sólo pueden verse entre tinieblas

Now, back in the reality that always lies in wait among the shadows of the Ensanche quarter, the enchantment was lifting, and all I had was painful desire and an indescribable restlessness.

This is a world of shadows, Daniel, and magic is a rare asset. That book taught me that by reading, I could live more intensely. It could give me back the sight I had lost. For that reason alone, a book that didn't matter to anyone changed my life.

Pois bem,esta é uma história de livros. - De livros? - De livros malditos, do homem que os escreveu, de uma personagem que se escapou das páginas de um romance para o queimar,de uma traição e de uma amizade perdida.É uma história de amor,de ódio e dos sonhos que vivem na sombra do vento.