Quotes About Glass

something that at first sight appeared to be the luminous bones of some massive, extinct creature, now disinterred, with its ribs gathered into a neat bundle around the thick stump of a massive spinal column which time and the elements had polished to such a cool ceramic gloss that if I were to leave my hand on it I would have been surprised if it felt like anything other than glass

She treasured his stories like the beach glass and rose-colored stones she used to collect as a girl—his words astonished her because he was taking her by the hand and showing her new, unforgettable things.

The flux of life is pouring its aesthetic aspect into your eyes, your ears - and you ignore it because you are looking for your canons of beauty in some sort of frame or glass case or tradition.

Zveket stakla, posuda, svjetiljaka, stravi?na vika na polutamnoj verandi, a vani u no?i vjetar u kestenovima, cvr?ci, mjese?ina i rosnata, zelena, zvjezdana tišina.

Het gezicht in de spiegel was dat van een vreemde. En ze benijdde haar. Want dat vreemde meisje was veilig in haar wereld van glas.

Alcohol, I had learned, was an eloquent if somewhat inaccurate interpreter. I had placed my trust that December night in glass after glass of it, eager not for drink but for a bit of talk.

The Florence flood of 1333 was ascribed by clerics to God's wrath at the use of glass windows and other luxuries.

Between us, love the buses at the door the long glass street two years, my death to yours my death upon your lips my face becoming glass strong challenged time making me win immortal the love a mirror of our valley our street our river a deadly glass to hold. Now they are feeding me in to a steel mill furnace O love the stream of glass a stream of living fire.

The 'bath' was almost the size of a small swimming pool, the steam curling off it pure, sensual temptation. A shower stood to her right, but it had no glass walls, the area defined only by an expanse of gold-flecked tile. A lightbulb went off in her head. 'Wings,' she whispered. 'It's all to accommodate those beautiful wings.

you're all so overprotective you'd be delighted if you could pack your mates in cotton wool and put them inside glass bubbles.' Sascha started laughing so hard, she almost dropped her egg roll. 'I think that's Lucas's secret fantasy.' Her mate growled at her. 'All I said was that you looked a little tired. You didn't have to blow a gasket.

Trust is a fragile glass bird. Drop it once, and it will shatter into shards innumerable.

Sophie felt as if she were encased in a glass globe called summer.

I stand and grab a hefty bottle of perfume from the bathroom shelf and return to the bedroom door. It's not much of a weapon, I know, but it's heavy and square, and hitting someone over the head with a glass brick has got to be better than bitch-slapping them.

His eyes were hazed with memory, the way I imagined the blue glass of a doll's might look if it had been left for too long on an abandoned nursery, light streaming pitilessly through bare windows until the cheap glass clouded and cracked. Had he seen Kick's illness right from the beginning and decided it was too hard?

It was like a flash of lightning amidst the dark of night, when for some reason you suddenly see an extraordinary multitude of things at once: the bed canopy, the folding screen, the window, the canary fluttering on its perch, and a glass with a silver spoon in it and spots of magnesium on its handle. It is probably the quality of fear to have big eyes.

To an engineer, only the ingenuity of pragmatic solutions is poetic. Function over form. It's not a question of optimism or pessimism, a glass half full or half empty. To an engineer, the glass is simply too big.

Abington, Glass of '64. Jenny was a year behind me and Wayne.

Jack poured wine into Janet's glass, fighting to ignore what felt suspiciously like nerves. "Bon appétit." What the hell did he possibly have to be nervous about? Absolutely nothing. That's what. This wasn't a date or some damned romantic liaison. He was having dinner with an acquaintance who'd gotten stranded near his property—and who just happened to be a beautiful woman.

Through the frost-covered glass, he could just make out a woman's face. She rolled down the window. "Jack West?" He found himself looking into a pair of familiar green eyes. Her dark hair was longer than the last time he'd seen her, and there were lines of weariness on her face. Still, he recognized her immediately. "Well, hello, there, SA Killeen. It seems you've run into a little trouble.

Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass. —ANTON CHEKHOV

He lifted his lip in a mock snarl and put his nose down on the dashboard with a thump. "You're smearing the windshield," I told him. He looked at me and deliberately ran his nose across his side of the glass.

There was a glass-fronted cabinet opposite, filled with plates on display stands and teacups with so many curlicues it was a wonder you could drink from them without cutting your lips.

In some ways. it began when I heard her singing. Her voice twinning, mixing with my own. Her voice was like a portrait of her soul; wild as a fire, sharp as shattered glass, sweet and clean as clover

In some ways it began when I heard her singing her voice twinning with my own Her Voice was like a portrait of her soul Wild as a fire, sharp as a shattered glass Sweet and clean as clover