Quotes About Vein

Probe deeply enough, under the slickest façade of confidence, and you tapped a vein of self-doubt or a hidden fear. Irrational fears and baseless doubts, many of them, but that was precisely why constant reassurance was necessary to the human animal.

I do not wish to give the impression by what I have said that, behind all the intemperance and extravagance of these men, there is not a vein of genuine feeling and even at times of something like real heroism. The trouble is that all this fervor and intensity is wasted on side issues and trivial matters. It does not connect itself with anything that is helpful and constructive. These crusaders, as nearly as I can see, are fighting windmills.

For this wire is as a part of our body, as a vein torn from us, glowing with our blood. Are we proud of this thread of metal, or of our hands which made it, or is there a line to divide these two?

In darkness, in any light after dusk, you can slit a vein and the blood is black.

I love that vein which uses sci-fi to address society's problems. It is the same when you have useful nightmares - things morph, and you get to confront issues in your dreams.

You are dreaming your thirst when the water you want is inside the big vein on your neck.

Our civilization thrives on stupidity. And it only took a sliver of cleverness to tap that idiot vein and drink deep of the riches. Comforting, if slightly depressing. The way of most grim truths.

I loved him beyond madness being one soul one vein one body, which he never deserved

It was strange, this toxic little vein, strange to stand above it, looking down at night, in a dangerous neighborhood, as if they were in love and entitled to such adventures.

What the road really was, she fancied, was this hypodermic needle, inserted somewhere ahead into the vein of a freeway, a vein nourishing the mainliner L.A., keeping it happy, coherent, protected from pain, or whatever passes, with a city, for pain. But were Oedipa some single melted crystal of urban horse, L.A., really, would be no less turned on for her absence.

What the road really was, she fancied, was this hypodermic needle, inserted somewhere ahead into the vein of a freeway, a vein nourishing the mainliner L.A., keeping it happy, coherent, protected from pain, or whatever passes, with a city, for pain.

Then she put it back in the bag and pulled out the bone-handled razor. Opened the blade. How light and lethal it felt in her hand. Allison rolled her sleeve up over her biceps and cut across the vein and artery. Warm blood splashed onto the tiled floor. Mum... It felt good, like the pain in her was leaking out with the blood, like a terrible pressure was being removed. It was soothing. She slid down the wall. Mum... But as she was there, things quickly changed; there was too much blood.

O who will give me tears? Come, all ye springs, Dwell in my head and eyes; come, clouds and rain; My grief hath need of all the watery things That nature hath produced: let every vein Suck up a river to supply mine eyes, My weary weeping eyes, too dry for me, Unless they get new conduits, new supplies, To bear them out, and with my state agree.

Firelight gleamed golden in the stiff whiskers that framed Lord Tywin's face. A vein pulsed in his neck, but he did not speak. And did not speak. And did not speak.

Directly above her head, blood peppered the ceiling, a "castoff" spray that permeated the pimply white paint. It looked a little as though someone had taken a straw filled with red paint and aimed it high. But then again, wasn't that essentially what happened when you opened a vein? Not the creative sort, the ones beneath

whom I first had the pleasure of working with while at Avon Books. It's also my very first non-genre novel, although you will find it a signature Tanya Anne Crosby read, filled with flawed characters, and brimming with emotion. Set in Sullivan's Island, South Carolina, this book takes me home and is both deeply personal and intensely satisfying, in terms of pushing the storytelling envelope. In a sense, I've opened a vein with Zoe's

A vein. Anduin's mind went immediately to the intricate network of veins and arteries that went through a living body. Strange how so long ago, well before anyone understood that Azeroth was a sleeping nascent titan, the term "vein" had been used to describe the ribbons of various minerals that ran throughout the world.

Though we chisel away as best we can at the mysterious block from which our life is made, the black vein of destiny continually reappears.

Carve as we will the mysterious block of which our life is made, the black vein of destiny constantly reappears in it.

In vain we chisel, as best we can, the mysterious block of which our life is made, the black vein of destiny reappears continuously.

Clap an extinguisher on your irony, if you are unhappily blessed with a vein of it.

I am soft sift 25 In an hourglass — at the wall Fast, but mined with a motion, a drift, And it crowds and it combs to the fall; I steady as a water in a well, to a poise, to a pane, But roped with, always, all the way down from the tall 30 Fells or flanks of the voel, a vein Of the gospel proffer, a pressure, a principle, Christ's gift.

Where are the sacred forms, and the ritual knife so I can slice open a vein and sign them in blood?

The most extraordinary thing about writing is that when you've struck the right vein, tiredness goes. It must be an effort, thinking wrong.