Quotes About Light

grey tint slipping round the edges of the shutters at the windows.

"Yes," I answered you last night; "No," this morning, sir, I say. Colours seen by candle-light Will not look the same by day.

Will that light come again, As now these tears come...falling hot and real!

Yes, I answered you last night; No, this morning, sir, I say: Colors seen by candle-light Will not look the same by day.

A mirror may be held in different lights by different hands; and, according to the position of those hands, will the light fall.

on the storey higher, have my arranging to manage of my pretty new books and my three hyacinths, and a pot of primroses which dear Mr. Kenyon had the good nature to carry himself through the streets to our door. But all the flowers forswear me, and die either suddenly or gradually as soon as they become aware of the want of fresh air and light in my room. Talking of air and light, what exquisite weather this is! What a summer in winter!

I watched the patterns of light sparkle across her back.

She seemed to him a long spill of dark water, a black surface shattered with ephermal reflections of light.

It writhed brightly, a spectrum of raveling colors, and then vanished and jumped position as the star resolved into view. Some distance away.

The chains hung flashing in the wintry light, the sea combed gray and tired behind them.

Kit's horse wasn't white at all, Will saw with relief, but a sorrel gelding so red he gleamed like wet blood even by the cold fey light that surrounded them.

The Light had failed and with it its children, but these other children-the mortal children, candle-flickers-continud endlessly fighting and dying and returning their blood to the wash of the sorrowful sea. The mortals had a saying, that blood was thicker than water. But to Muire blood was water: the water of the ocean, and the force of the Light upon it.

Morgan met Kit's gaze calmly, her eyes dark and mysterious as emeralds in the weird, cold light.

A whirl of color, patches like autumn leaves tossed in a wind, and when Will squinted right, knowing what he was looking for, he could make out a slender man huddled under a black velvet hood, his shoulders aswirl with a cloak that caught the light through the leaded windows in all colors and none. When Will looked at him directly, he seemed to fade into transparency and shadows.

The crown of shadows that capped his golden hair seemed to draw a rich dark tint from the crimson velvet of his breeches, and his eyes caught more light than the sunset sky had to offer.

They were deep within the world, and its hungry latticework structure had consumed the available light.

Sliding across the earth, they seemed small-headed, inoffensive, their eyes like black star sapphires suffused with a silvery overlay of light. Tristen only knew the serpents for what they were because, here and there, one reared up and opened its infamous hood like a flower on an arm-thick stem.

Pure white light enfold him and he smiled at the lie.

His shrug rearranged bony shoulders like a ridgeline shifting; the light of the lamp glinted amber in the depths of his eyes.

The structure of the world loomed in the partial visibility overhead, a lattice skeleton swathed erratically with light and darkness, further structures gleaming dully through translucent gas until depth of field rendered it opaque.

Dry hands, hot, callused. Eyes dripping silver light, so it pooled and ran down the Wolf's creased cheeks like tears. But the look on his face wasn't sorrow.

He sailed forward, the dark iron in his hand burning like a spear of light, a voice like a choir of falcons bellowing Lucifer's name somehow rising in his throat and everything a fury of gold-barred black and searing light.

The light through beech limbs dappled her long indigo-black torso, leafy transluscence, creating a diffuse green glow broken by dancing radiant rays.

Candle-flicker. Come into the darkness and be no more alone." His smile grew tender. "Thou art an avenger, sister. Thy Light has abandoned thee. Avenge thyself.