Quotes About Fragility

He's a fragile, girlish sort of a boy with eyes like watchful black jewels.

David was a featherweight in his arms, a frail thing that smelled of citrus-musk and and lilac cologne and filled him with rasping, heated pulse. David stifled a sob against his throat, jaws working, lacerating Sebastien's skin as Sebastien bore them both down on the couch.

It had been impressed on Rien all through her childhood how fragile the habitable sphere was, and how much functionality had been lost through accident, negligence, malice, and the simple gnawing of entropy.

Muire really needed to stop taking in candle-flicker strays. She tried, Light knew: she held herself aloof, didn't place calls, avoided social engagements. Sh didn't take lovers. She didn't need friends. She especially didn't need friends who would inevitably break her heart with their fragility, their evanescence, the shadow-quick passing of their mortal lives.

The white hound who runs before them is gone, vanished, tattered and blown apart by the freshening breeze as if he had no more substance than a twist of smoke.

And if we Severinos are all the same in life, we die the same death, the same Severino death. The death of those who die of old age before thirty, of an ambuscade before twenty, of hunger a little daily.

Too pretty, dreamlike mimicry! O falling fire and piercing cry and panic, and a weak mailed fist clenched ignorant against the sky!

Henrietta knew of the heart as an organ; she privately saw it covered in red plush and believed that it could not break, though it might tear.

The only constant in our marriage is the edge of the cliff we're hanging on to, killing time until we tire ourselves out and give in to our inevitable collapse.

How can I look so real everyday, when really I'm just a cardboard cut-out image of myself-lamenated in coats of artifical happiness with shiny plastic all around- so quite I should be a mime- I wrap my arms around myself when I go out in the wind because I don't know how to make sure that I won't blow away- and I'm standing with my eyes closed so I won't have to see the ground when I fall...

Mrs Downs, a large sad lady who described herself, to Rupert's delight, as bulky but fragile, now came four mornings a week to clean the house. She was one of those people who habitually looked on the black side of everything with a cheerfulness that bordered upon the macabre.

You fainted and I caught you. It was the first time I supported a human. You had such heavy bones. I put myself between you and gravity. Impossible.

Occasionally, a truck rumbled by, loaded down with logs. The butterflies couldn't scatter fast enough, so the road was littered with severed wings.

all that we consider to be the great works of man - the sculptures and the libraries, the monuments and the museums, the cities and the factories - will be compressed into a layer of sediment not much thicker than a cigarette paper.

bones and muscles, organs and skin, I want to take care of the gift of my body. I want to feed it well, move it gracefully, and rest it deeply. I know that the life force beats on, even when the heart has stopped, but while I have a heart and lungs, I want to treat them with sacred awe. And while I dwell with others who are just like me, I want to see them for who they really are, in all of their fragility and all of their majesty.

Sometimes my capacity for smallness is surprising, even to myself.

I like it that order exists somewhere even if it shatters near me.

Love... It only serves to make one weak...

I have been smashed and put back together so many times nothing works right. Nothing is where it should be, heavy thumping in my shoulder where my heart now beats.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl. She took long showers every night, swimming in the water rushing over her and washing her hair till it squeaked when she ran her hands down it, parents sighing why do you have to be so clean? It was like she knew, in a way. Like that water was grace and soon she would not be able to find it. Soon nothing would make her more than what she was. Nothing would make her whole.

tulip stem inside me snapped. This is what I felt. It has stayed snapped, it never grew back.

It had made me draw back just slightly inside myself. And I knew this was because I had always been afraid of giving off that odor myself.

Tutto è gelata fragilità, cristallino risonante freddo.

Poor little corpses! It was too bad they were dead. He couldn't play with them. Even though they really stank. He couldn't stand the smell. They deserved to die for smelling so bad.