Quotes About Glass

No one understood the simple truth: Klas had realized that what is most beautiful must be also most fragile. Now this is scary and hard to bear when you are little and don't know anything about the nature of glass. For it is very upsetting that the most beautiful things in life shatter so easily.

My father used to say,"Superior people never make long visits,have to be shown Longfellow's graveor the glass flowers at Harvard."

If you find an Australian indoors, it's a fair bet that he will have a glass in his hand.

I guess I just prefer to see the dark side of things. The glass is always half empty. And cracked. And I just cut my lip on it. And chipped a tooth.

I walked up the stairs to my apartment, carrying the moment carefully as though it were a glass globe full of butterflies. 

The poet's house was a city of glass:

When the poet died, they brought his coffin to the city of glass. There was no door: the door was a thousand daggers, beyond the door an ancient world in ruins, glass now arrowheads, axes, pottery shards, dust. There were no windows: fingers of air reached for glass like a missing lover's face.

Red onions are especially divine. I hold a slice up to the sunlight pouring in through the kitchen window, and it glows like a fine piece of antique glass. Cool watery-white with layers delicately edged with imperial purple...strong, humble, peaceful...with that fiery nub of spring green in the center...

In our absence, the violet early evening light pours in the bay window, filling the still room like water poured into a glass. The glass is delicate. The thin, tight surface of the liquid light trembles. But it does not break. Time does not pass. Not yet.

I looked at the transprent yellow liquid in the glass. I tasted it and tasted fermentation. In other words I tasted life on Earth. For everything that lives here ferments, ages, becomes diseased. But as things made their decline from ripeness they could taste wonderful, I realised

But it only takes a doubt. A drop of ink falls into a clear glass of water and clouds the whole thing.

It began to rain again, so she sat there with the blinds open, staring at the drops on the glass.

Tall narrow windows in the sides of the nave let in light through frosted glass, and an oil lamp with a rose glass vessel hung above the center aisle, its feeble flicker like the glow of a dying star.

She sat Greer down on the couch and put a glass of very cold water in her hand, because hydration was surprisingly helpful, one of her instructors had said, and water was free, and ubiquitous. It couldn't put out anyone's fire, but it could make the person remember: I am part of the real world, a person holding a glass.

Try not to kill me with your love, try not to break a glass wall seeing everything, but going unheard, the words feel unspoken. Crystals gleaming at our feet, innocently joined by red fists and a kiss.

Like chaos in a glass cage.

The snow had turned to glass, growing green and blue; a rose colour filled our eyes until they almost died. We stayed until we too felt that we too were metamorphosing into trees. We could feel the frost-cold roots beneath our feet, growing, binding us to to the ground.

It's simply the way things are when people come together out of hurt rather than happiness. When you try to use people as band-aids you merely reinfect the wound, and every moment you spend with them is like a speck of glass working itself deeper into your flesh.

At breakfast this morning I drank a whole glass of grapefruit juice and it wasn't till after I had put it down in the sink that I thought about putting vodka in it. And if that's not being cured, I don't know what is!

plews." Glass paid the captain his full attention. Every citizen of St. Louis knew some version of Drouillard's story, but Glass had never heard a first-person account. "He did that twice, went out and came back with a pack of plews. Last thing he said before he left the third time was,

His awe of the mountains grew in the days that followed, as the Yellowstone River led him nearer and nearer. Their great mass was a marker, a benchmark fixed against time itself. Others might feel disquiet at the notion of something so much larger than themselves. But for Glass, there was a sense of sacrament that flowed from the mountains like a font, an immortality that made his quotidian pains seem inconsequential

He smiled at the sudden image of Prometheus tossing cars from one side of the bridge to the other to build his barrier. He heard the tiny tinkle of glass and wondered if being tossed across the Golden Gate Bridge by an Elder was covered by insurance.

The Witch of Endor had no eyes. There were just hollow empty sockets where eyes should have been, and nestled in the sockets were perfect ovals of reflective glass.

Je veux penser à toi, Arthur Schopenhauer, / Je t'aime et je vois dans le reflet des vitres, / Le monde est sans issue et je suis un vieux pitre, / Il fait froid. Il fait très froid. Adieu la Terre