Quotes About Ethereal

We wanted 'At Dawn' to be what it was: kinda spaced-out.

Long gold hair, eyes so light they looked silvery, and golden skin, the man was blindingly beautiful. Every hair on my body lifted, all over, in unison. And I got the strangest thought: He's not human.

Give me a Twilight moment, make me all shimmery, too?

A thin stream of smoke drifted skyward, speaking of mysteries within.

Ghosts are both remnants of history and witnesses to it.

The words moved out into the darkness hovered like butterflies somehow freestanding I heard the abyss breathing

Her voice sounds like a firefly looks on a summer night.

mermaids floated

Like a song from the depthless regions of space, he was a thing that should not be, an echo of a scream made by someone who had never existed.

I saw long rows of angels in paradise, each with his hands in a jar of spermaceti.

Çünkü melek dediÄŸin kendini s?k? s?k? dizginleyen bir köpek bal???ndan baÅŸka bir ÅŸey deÄŸildir.

Oh! how immaterial are all materials! What things real are there, but imponderable thoughts?

These were the colloquies in heaven.

If I had to pinpoint my mother's location, I'd say she's nowhere and everywhere at the same time. She's a foggy memory I can't quite bring into focus and a gentle spirit that infuses all my days. She hovers in the background of my life now, suspended, shapeless, like familiar air.

Algo me incitaba a buscar en el cielo algunas nubes, ya que se había apoderado de mí una inexplicable aprensión acerca de los infinitos e insondables espacios etéreos.

What a strange thing, to build a castle in the air. We made a friendship out of nothing, because nothing was the heart of what we shared.

Taste the undead rainbow.

Murk can be described as an enfeebled fog with a personality disorder; it is more troubled than ethereal, sulking moodily over our lives at the end of the day.

Young? He'd hear his own harsh, pained laugh. Oh, no, not this lass. She's old. She walked under a blood-red moon in the dawn of time, did this one. Her face is the face of all that cannot be fathomed, and she's looking you in the eye, Whiskeyjack, and you'll never know what she's thinking.

She saw her breath curl in a white stream, drawn inward to the darkness beyond.

They exist in some Platonic realm, along with abstract concepts like truth and justice.

He was like a spirit cut free from reality. He was adrift, helpless, insubstantial.

The air was hushed and still as if the fog were an enchantment beneath whose spell the whole world slept.

The air felt strange against Daniel's skin, alive with unseen presences.