Quotes About Light

Dry shampoo is just really awesome because it'll keep your hair light, but it'll give it texture so that you can move it and style it, but it'll kind of just stay in place - so I really love dry shampoo on shorter hair.

Creating life at the speed of light is part of a new industrial revolution. Manufacturing will shift from centralised factories to a distributed, domestic manufacturing future, thanks to the rise of 3D printer technology.

The history of New Orleans was always a fascination to me - such a blend of light and darkness and plague and pleasure and hedonism and fear and death. It's just a very, very intriguing city. I have this strange love relationship with it.

There's a joke in economics about the drunk who loses his keys in the street but only looks for them under the lightposts. When asked why, he says, 'because that's where the light is.' That's the problem with the deficit.

You take a plug and put it in a socket, and that's what the theatre is-it lights up right away. You speak, and they respond immediately.

When I write, I am not giving a lecture, I am speculating on behavior. Sometimes this is dangerous, but it should be. As I say often, theatre is a dark place and we should keep the light out of it.

'London' is a gallery of sensation of impressions. It is a history of London in a thematic rather than a chronological sense with chapters of the history of smells, the history of silence, and the history of light. I have described the book as a labyrinth, and in that sense in complements my description of London itself.

It seemed, indeed, that the study of light-scattering might carry one into the deepest problems of physics and chemistry, and it was this belief which led to the subject becoming the main theme of our activities at Calcutta from that time onwards.

If you want to say good-night to Rosie before you go, now's the time. Her light is going off in…" She looked at her watch. "Fifteen minutes." "Fine," he said, standing. "Did I do all right today? I mean, she didn't run screaming from the room or anything." "You did very well, Sean. I'm impressed." He smiled a small smile, asking himself why that felt so good coming from her.

her heart fluttered like a moth at a porch light.

There's a word for it," she told me, "in French, for when you have a lingering immersion of something having passed by. Sillage. I always think of it when a firework explores and lights up the smoke from the ones before it.

There's a word for it," she told me, "in French, for when you have a lingering impression of something having passed by. Sillage. I always think of it when a firework explores and lights up the smoke from the ones before it.

And so we sat there in the sickening sillage of the truth, neither of us angry, or upset, just muddling through this shared sorrow, this collective pity. And as much as I wanted to sound my tragic wail over the rooftops, and let go of the day, and crawl back toward that safe harbor, and give in to the dying of the light, and to do all of those unheroically injured things that people never write poems about, I didn't.

I read once that we're all just dead stars looking back up at the sky...I don't know why I was thinking about that, but it made a lot of sense right then that stars glow so brightly in their instant of death...

Los cristianos sabemos que hay una luz que las tinieblas no pueden vencer ni entender, y es la luz de Aquel a quien debemos regresar para superar este tiempo de prueba. Es la luz de Cristo, la que iluminó los monasterios de la Edad Media y a todos los que allí se congregaban.

There is a fifth dimension, beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition.

At almost exactly the same moment, far to the south, the valley of the Nile is lit up.

or Hellespont, is beginning to catch the growing light.

in broad daylight in the centre of Rome.

The sun shines. Readers read.

O sun, heart of the heavens whose blood of light Infuses the vigor which transmutes to azure The black ice strangler of great space obscure I hate you, mask of gold, mist and fire, circular Blind monster blinding all the prey around You who veil the impure dazzling phantasm To the loving vertigo of my avid gazes The visions of the colorless abyss of the void Reversed hollow truth-mask of the other world.

One red gash of sunset shone....

un conforto scintillante

Had he been sent to them like a kind of sun, pouring light into the world without asking for anything in return?