Quotes About Revelation

Can I meet him?" she asked. "Yeah, sure. Why not?" As I said it, I wondered how I was going to make Eric appear. It would be a lot easier to make myself disappear !

Couldn't help it, he insisted. My dad would bell me to draw a flower and it would turn into a Venus flytrap chewing on a hand.

Secrets are like plants. They can stay buried deep in the earth for a long time, but eventually they'll send up shoots and give themselves away. They have to. It's their nature. Just a tiny green stem at first. Which slowly, insidiously grows taller, stronger, unfolding itself, until there it is. A big fat secret, right in front of your face; a fully bloomed flower perfumed with the scent of deception.

If you are to write the truth, you must go beneath the surface into deeper, often darker waters where the light wavers and breathing is a matter of mindfulness.

The silences of history must be made to speak [Il faut faire parler les silences de l'histoire].

Truth makes many appeals, not the least of which is its power to shock.

In the same way that a word repeated over and over begins to sound bizarre, so an object scrutinized with such attention will start to shed its everyday invisibility. So pepper grinders become armless women who scream when their heads are twisted and rain bitterness, a cheese-grater becomes a steel wall of tears, or a light bulb the lost eye of a Cyclops. The

I wake up in the Landing. "Wyn Salvadorm you son of a rasshøl!" I yell into the mall.

Isn't it nice," the older lady said, leaning in so that only Penelope could hear her words, "to discover that we're not exactly what we thought we were?" And then she walked away, leaving Penelope wondering if maybe she wasn't quite what she'd thought she was. Maybe—just maybe—she was something a little bit more.

Don't tell me your name. It's likely to awaken my conscience, and that's the last thing we want.

Shake, Newton.

When the dead body said, "Good evening," Annabel had to face the grim conclusion that it wasn't as dead as she'd hoped.

Because if he looked like he was unaffected by her smile, then she would not realize that, in actuality, he was in an utter panic because somewhere deep down inside he'd realized that his life had just changed forever.

He yawned again, this time very loudly, and lazily opened his eyes. "I'm sorry I woke you up," she said quickly. "Was I sleeping?" She nodded. "So there really is a God," he muttered.

Isn't it nice to discover that we're not exactly what we thought we were?

Isn't it nice," the older lady said, leaning in so that only Penelope could hear her words, "to discover that we're not exactly what we thought we were?

He didn't know if there was a word to describe what he felt in that moment, how he saw the lines of his own heart when her eyes met his.

His love hadn't been a thunderbolt from the sky. It had started with a smile, a word, a teasing glance. Every second he had spent in her presence it had grown, until he'd reached this moment, and he suddenly knew. He loved her.

And in that moment, she knew she loved him. With every thought, every emotion, every piece of her being, she loved him.

Is there something you wish to tell me?" Violet asked gently. Hyacinth shook her head. How did one share something such as this with one's mother? —Oh, yes, by the by and in case you're interested, it has recently come to my attention that my affianced husband asked me to marry him because he wished to infuriate his father. —Oh, and did I mention that I am no longer a virgin? No getting out of it now! No, that wasn't going to work

Her brown eyes, wise and warm and undeniably perceptive, focused on his. For one split moment he had the bizarre thought that she somehow knew everything about him, from the moment of his birth to his certainty of his own death. It seemed, in that second, with her face tipped up toward his and her lips slightly parted, that she, more than anyone else who would ever walk this earth, truly knew him. It was thrilling. But more than that, it was terrifying.

It isn't gossip," Hyacinth retorted. "It's the honest dissemination of information.

He did things to her, she realized. Strange, shivery things that left her breathless. He need only to look at her—not in his usual, conversational way, but to really look at her, to let his eyes settle on hers, deeply blue and insightful, and she felt naked, her soul bared.

He loved her. It was the strangest, most wonderful sensation. It was exhilarating. It was as if the world had suddenly become open to him. Clear. He understood. He understood everything he needed to know, and it was all right there in her eyes.