Quotes About Sunlit

That way, that sunlit, gentle path was set with mines, and had at the end of it a chasm she could not contemplate. So she hid her impulse, and did not know, because he was better at concealment than she, that he had noticed it.

Poetry is the silence and speech between a wet struggling root of a flower and a sunlit blossom of that flower.

I don't like it when the summer goes and the autumn comes, she said. Daniel took her by the shoulders and turned her round. He didn't say anything. But all across the landscape down behind them it was still sunlit blue and green. She looked up at him showing her how the summer was still there. Nobody spoke like Daniel. Nobody didn't speak like Daniel.

The river runs wide and passive in sunlit stretches, then fast and bawdy with whitewater rapids.

Already my gaze is upon the hill, the sunlit one. The way to it, barely begun, lies ahead. So we are grasped by what we have not grasped, full of promise, shining in the distance. It changes us, even if we do not reach it, into something we barely sense, but are; a movement beckons, answering our movement . . . But we just feel the wind against us.

It was a morning of ethereal splendor—such a morning as Noah knew as he gazed from his pitchy bulwarks over limitless, sunlit waters while the dove circled and mounted and became lost in the shining heavens; such a morning as only the angels saw on the first day of that rash cosmic experiment that had resulted, at the moment, in landing Corker and Pigge here in the mud, stiff and unshaven and disconsolate.

Remind me in countless ways, as I walk the sunlit hours of this day, that I am on a sacred journey along with the stars traveling through space, that I am on a pilgrim path.

Even before it opened its retail arm, Beigh was renowned among pashmina cognoscenti for the quality and complexity of the work produced in its workshop, a large, airy, sunlit rectangle of a room directly across from its second-floor shop.

Love, as is told by the seers of old, Comes as a butterfly tipped with gold, Flutters and flies in sunlit skies, Weaving round hearts that were one time cold.

And I can never feel the glad radiance of sunlit days without sadly remembering and pondering over the fate of the beggar who was such an outcast in life, that his horrible death was a relief to all who had known him.

Low-key scenes, nighttime effects, and many outdoor sunlit scenes are shot at ratios much higher than 4:1.

I like to take my time, and Parisians love to take their time - sleeping in, enjoying sunlit terraces, having long dinners.

The schoolhouse, on this sunlit morning, has begun to take on the scent of girls with wind-blown hair, with seeds in their pockets, with road-hardened feet.

Interviewer: What surprises you in life? Nabokov: ...the marvel of consciousness- that sudden window swinging open on a sunlit landscape amidst the night of non-being.

Lady, though you choose a home in the sunlit world, you are a Staryk queen indeed.

He says the sort of thing that people say. The light. The movement. The ceaseless change. But I think that's to get it precisely wrong. Isn't it the other way around? That it never changes. That you are staring at a vision of eternity, sometimes sunlit, sometimes furious, but always there. Gazing at you gazing at it. I

When they got into the Town Hall itself they stopped playing. Less than half an hour later they came out again into the sunlit street: but Mrs. Miniver felt afterwards that during that half-hour she had said good-bye to something. To the last shreds which lingered in her, perhaps, of the old, false, traditional conception of glory.

The train was sunlit and emptier.

She dreamed a thousand dreams of those sunlit regions and was consumed with longing for this other and richer self, forgetting—what is so easily forgotten—that even the fairest dreams and the deepest longings do not add an inch to the stature of the human soul.

I take advantage of the long weekend in the fall and leave the city to clear my head, to enjoy the waning warmth in a nearby town and escape the daily routine. I arrive in a sunlit, peaceful spot. The arrangements are to my liking: the quiet hotel, the tasty breakfast, the pool that's empty until noon.

Neither my readers nor I are in the relatively sunlit uplands depicted in White Teeth anymore. But the lesson I take from this is not that the lives in that novel were illusory, but rather that progress is never permanent, will always be threatened, must be redoubled, restated and *reimagined* if it is to survive.

Here in neutral Holland one sunlit June day followed another. Only a few people—like Willem—insisted that the war was Holland's tragedy too.

Rufus was aware in the same instant that their own footstep and the wailing had caused a commotion on his left and, glancing as sharply into the sunlit room where his father lay, saw an incredibly dense crowd of soberly dressed people on weak, complaining chairs, catching his eye, looking past him, looking quickly away, trying to look as if they had not looked around.

Yet we always envy others, comparing our shadows to their sunlit sides.