Quotes About Marble

Underneath my stiffened gown Is the softness of a woman bathing in a marble basin, A basin in the midst of hedges grown So thick, she cannot see her lover hiding, But she guesses he is near, And the sliding of the water Seems the stroking of a dear Hand upon her.

She was more of a marble statue under a cascade of moonlight, smelling like flowers and ivy—the glory of a weeping graveyard angel.

The marble keeps merely a cold and sad memory of a man who would else be forgotten. No man who needs a monument ever ought to have one.

there is a tall marble memorial on which the names of their dead are listed.

Through my blue fingers, pink grains are falling, haphazard, random, a disorganized stream of silicone that seems pregnant with the possibility of every conceivable shape… But this is illusion. Things have their shape in time, not space alone. Some marble blocks have statues within them, embedded in their future.

Things have their shape in time, not space alone. Some marble blocks have statues within them, embedded in their future.

If a man has done evil in his life, he must not be complimented in marble.

A murder victim hung like art? That threw him back and flooded his gut with something akin to nausea, though the feeling faded quickly once he started to examine the crime scene. The man was suspended from a six foot marble statue right of the Troubadours auctioneer's podium, facing a large room with fifty chairs, twenty-five on each side.

Septimus peered over the side - the marble looked solid once more. "It's Thixotropic ," he said. "It's what ?" said Nicko. "Solid. But goes liquid under pressure." "Don't we all," said Nicko gloomily.

De harige spin staarde Septimus onheilspellend aan. Hij had Septimus zeker eerder gezien. Vier keer om precies te zijn, dacht de spin kwaad, vier keer was hij opgeraapt, in een potje gestopt en buitengezet... 'Soms, Jen,' zei Septimus toen hij weer terugkwam bij de marmeren trap, 'denk ik dat die spinnen weer regelrecht naar de Bibliotheek wandelen. Vandaag herkende ik er een.

As I passed along the side walls of Westminster Abbey, I hardly saw any thing but marble monuments of great admirals, but which were all too much loaded with finery and ornaments, to make on me at least, the intended impression.

I loved going to the Chiang Kai Shek Memorial in Taipei to watch all the old Chinese people doing tai chi and practicing kung fu. The monument was made of white marble, and it was beautiful. Sometimes my dad and I would practice with them.

Christians well know that the much-decorated statue of the Church, as it now stands, is not of pure chiseled marble, but of clay, cemented together by blood and tears and hardened in the fires of hatred and persecution.

MARBLE STEPS COMPLAINT White dew grows on the marble steps, And in the long night, soaks into my stockings. But now I let the crystal curtain down, And gaze through it at the autumn moon.

Marble, I perceive, covers a multitude of sins.

Silence is as full of potential wisdom and wit as the unshown marble of great sculpture.

I perceive that marble conceals a multitude of sins.

Life comes before literature, as the material always comes before the work. The hills are full of marble before the world blooms with statues.

Her marble tears run down her marble face. A stranger is someone who has no handkerchief. Who has no words to say. Whose shadow mind is burning as he sits watching her hands and thinks how rare! to see a Roman talk with no gestures at all.

Within you lies embedded in the marble of your human life the Spirit that is God, hidden beneath the flesh, hidden beneath the bodies, the emotions and the mind, so that it is not visible to the outer eyes. You have not to create that image. It is there. You have not to manufacture it; you have only to set it free.

Sometimes he was adorned or made to don Half-vestures then in statued nudity Did imitate some god that seems to be By marble's accurate virtue men's again.

The light on the Palace windows had died away, and the dome of the Pantheon swam aglow above the northern terrace, a fiery Valhalla in the sky; while below in grim array, along the terrace ranged, the marble ranks of queens looked out into the west.

The problem is, you can't tell people these things. They'll think you're crazy. And I say to myself: What can I do with this life inside me? I'd like to give it ... to make a present of it ... to go up to people and tell them: You need to be joyful! You know? You have to play at being pirates ... to build cities of marble ... to laugh ... to set off firecrackers

Permanence has been swept aside by the rapidity of empty images. The pantheon, we discover to our astonishment, is the doghouse of the burning asylum... We think our brain is a marble mausoleum, when in fact it's a house made of cardboard boxes, a shack stranded between an empty field and an endless dusk.