Quotes About Cliffside

I'm off to sit on a cliff.

How many times have I told them that I'm enjoying life and finally taking my time? While in reality, it's actually time that's taking me, bit by bit, like the cruel tide gnawing at the cliffside. Retirement, my ass! More like a retreat from life!

The middle place. Not death. Not life. A limbo state of existence filled with the hours of turning the wheels. Eating to not feel hungry. Sleeping to not feel tired. Waking to not feel asleep. The middle place that exists between breaths, in that pause, that slight breathlessness before an exhale and an inhale. Between the crest and the valley. Where the path always meanders cliffside.

The middle place. Not death. Not life. A limbo state of existence filled with the hours of turning the wheels. Eating to not feel hungry. Sleeping to not feel tired. Waking to not feel asleep. The middle place that exists between breaths, in that pause, the slight breathlessness before an exhale and an inhale. Between the crest and the valley. Where the path always meanders cliffside.

Cliffside's lobby is one of the most spectacular spaces on the island. The hotel has twenty-three rooms (where you step out into sand), a pool and a fitness center, a small private café, and a private beach on Nantucket Sound. (The water is calm and good for swimming.) Cliffside is a splurge—if you can get in!

Tendrils of fog crept along the cliffside we were climbing down, gathering thickly in the dips the trail made, swirling whenever I set my foot down in it, as if it were recoiling at the prospect of touching me. I tried not to think about movies I'd seen in which horrible things happened to people out in such heavy fog. You know the movies I'm talking about.

here I am way below in the Vulcan's Forge itself looking up with sad eyes—Blanking my little Camel cigarette on a billion year old rock that rises behind my head to a height unbelievable—The little kitchen light on the cliff is only on the end of it, behind it the shoulders of the great sea hound cliff go rising up and back and sweeping inland higher and higher till I gasp to think "Looks like a reclining dog, big friggin shoulders on that sonofabitch

faster," Trey says, over his shoulder. "Don't give it a chance to get holda you." "This is as fast as I go. Not all of us are built like jackrabbits." "Moose, more like." "You remember what I told you about manners?" Cal demands. Trey snorts and keeps moving. They pass between gorse bushes, around old turf-cutting scars, under a sheer cliffside where tufts of