Quotes About Crystal

I turned to discover the faint smile of the bookseller's niece. Her voice was pure crystal, transparent and so fragile I feared that her words would break if I interrupted them.

En un instante infinito la lluvia quedó suspendida en el aire, un millón de lágrimas de cristal flotando en el vacío, y vi al ángel besarla en la frente, sus labios marcando su piel como hierro candente.

It was a magnificent day; the skies were electric blue, and a crystal breeze carried the cool scent of autumn and the sea.

Y quiso el destino que en ese preciso instante entrara Tadzio por la puerta de cristales.

What the road really was, she fancied, was this hypodermic needle, inserted somewhere ahead into the vein of a freeway, a vein nourishing the mainliner L.A., keeping it happy, coherent, protected from pain, or whatever passes, with a city, for pain. But were Oedipa some single melted crystal of urban horse, L.A., really, would be no less turned on for her absence.

She looked around, spooked at the sunlight pouring in all the windows, as if she had been trapped at the centre of some intricate crystal, and said, 'My God.' 'And I feel him, certain days, days of a certain temperature,' sad Mr Thoth, 'and barometric pressure. Did you know that? I feel him close to me.' 'Your grandfather?' 'No, my God.

She looked around, spooked at the sunlight pouring in all the windows, as if she had been trapped at the centre of some intricate crystal, and said, 'My God.' 'And I feel him, certain days, days of a certain temperature,' said Mr Thoth, 'and barometric pressure. Did you know that? I feel him close to me.' 'Your grandfather?' 'No, my God.

His eyes wir crystal clear and treacherous, untainted by conscience or compassion.

The walls of this elevator are made of crystal so that you can watch the people on the ground floor shrink to ants as you shoot up into the air. It's exhilarating and I'm tempted to ask Effie Trinket if we can ride it again, but somehow that seems childish.

Crystal ball and candle light, I want your dance tonight. Show me the power of love as we stand together in the middle of the night.

Love turns a heart to crystal...Much more valuable, but much more fragile.

Love turns a heart to crystal," said Mikey. "Much more valuable, but much more fragile.

Babel of stairways and arcades, it was an endless palace, full of reservoirs and cascades falling into a dull and darkened gold; and heavy cataracts, like crystal curtains, hung, in shimmering light, on metal walls.

My kisses are as light as fairy midges That on calm evenings skim the crystal lake Those of your man would plough such ruts and ridges As lumbering carts or tearing coulters make

He was a crystal of morality among our scientists.

the laws of nature are rigged in favor of life." In this view, "life emerges from a soup in the same dependable way that a crystal emerges from a saturated solution

Tarde a vida me ensina esta lição discreta: a ode cristalina é a que se faz sem poeta.

We often take these social rituals for granted, but we do so at our own peril. They are more fragile than we think. Like fine crystal, they break easily and are hard to glue back together.

No human metal had gone into the forging of that blade. It was alive with moonlight, translucent, a shard of crystal so thin that it seemed to almost vanish when seen edge on. There was a faint blue shimmer to the thing and a ghost light that played around its edges, and somehow Will knew that it was sharper than any razor.

She had been pure in the manner of a crystal, refracting the light, and life around her improved, enlivened, colored with her grace. Shit. He was such a sap.

And he showed me a river of water of life, bright as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb, in the midst of the street thereof. And on this side of the river and on that was the tree of life, bearing twelve manner of fruits, yielding its fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.

I think the art world is one of the last bastions of this kind of sexism where there is a mythology about a woman not being able to be both and artist and a mother: that some very important creative crystal inside a woman would be shattered by the idea of having a child.

He was troubled; this brain, so limpid in its blindness, had lost its transparency; there was a cloud in this crystal.

You love me? Like summer loves short nights. Get a checkup, then. Only cure I need is you. I'm serious about this, Chuck. Only doctor I need is Dr. Crystal Bell. Now come here . . . And then there is silence, so I put the pillow over my head because when they stop talking, I know what that means. Uggghh!