Quotes About Ruins

This is the kingdom of the Hittites.

Abundance, like want, ruins many.

The owl loves its nest in the ruins, The Huma revels in making kings, The falcon will not leave the King's hand, And the wagtail pleads weakness.2

Nothing ruins the mood during foreplay more than the recurring image of your sixty-five-year-old homeroom teacher trying to stretch a condom over a cucumber.

Ruins stood for what was lost, and yet there were beautiful-peaceful, historic, intellectual. Not tragic or regrettable. Lena tried to keep hers that way too, and she succeeded to some extent. Why not celebrate what you had rather than spend your time mourning its passing? There could be joy in things that ended.

Travelling! Young men travelling! I cannot, my dear, but think it a very nonsensical thing! What can they see, but the ruins of the gay, once busy world, of which they have read? To see a parcel of giddy boys, under the direction of tutors, or governors, hunting after — What? — Nothing; or at best but ruins of ruins; for the imagination, aided by reflection, must be lest, after all, to make out the greater glories which the grave-digger Time has buried too deep for discovery.

The Rusty Ruins were the remains of an old city, a hulking reminder of back when there'd been way too many people, and everyone was incredibly stupid. And ugly.

They were brought up in these ruins and no longer notice them.

It was at Rome, on the fifteenth of October 1764, as I sat musing amidst the ruins of the Capitol, while the barefoot friars were singing vespers in the Temple of Jupiter, that the idea of writing the decline and fall of the city first started to my mind.

Ah, what sights and sounds and pain lie beneath that mist. And we had thought that our hard climb out of that cruel valley led to some cool, green and peaceful, sunlit place---but it's all jungle here, a wild and savage wilderness that's overrun with ruins. But put on your crown, my Queen, and we will build a New City on these ruins.

El olor de la muerte es inconfundible; es un olor a cuerpo sin alma. Las pequeñas cabezas de muñecas, los carritos de niños, las partituras de música, el almanaque, los restos de múltiples colchones, ropas desperdigadas, sólo el teclado de un piano, tendido de fatiga sobre la tierra, todo ello conforma el lenguaje de los escombros.

I look like a quarry someone has dynamited.

Braddock looks every bit the deserted battlefield it truly is: 90 percent of our town's people, buildings, businesses, and homes are gone and what remains, bears witness to the torment.

I am deeply saddened for the people of Ferguson who woke up to see parts of their community in ruins. No one should have to live like this; no one deserves this. We must do better, and we will.

On the spur of the hill stood the ruins of an old brewery. The roof had long since disappeared and the rain had beaten the stone floors smooth and yellow. Some enterprising Englishman had spent a lifetime here making beer for his thirsty compatriots down in the plains. Now, moss and ferns grew from the walls.

I cud feal some thing growing in me it wer like a grean sea surging in me it wer saying, LOSE IT. Saying, LET GO. Saying, THE ONLYES POWER IS NO POWER The ruins of Canterbury Castle

And Thou, vast Ocean! on whole awful face Time's iron feet can print no ruin trace.

It's like . . . time is flowing backward. We're caveman archeologists in the ruins of the future.

The mix in our rooms is so touching: the clutter and the cracks in the wall belie a bleakness or brokenness in our lives; while photos and a few rare objects show our pride, our rare shining moments ... these rooms are future ruins

Sometimes I can't look you in the eye; you're like a building that's burned out inside, with the outer wall still standing.

ruins." A flush spread up

I knew that things human would lose all love of this place, as they had lost their love of so many ruins in the country round.

They had known each other for many years. Young Jacob had found his way onto a ship borne for the tropics, indentured to a pair of wealthy male planters, and he'd run away, ending up at the decaying ruins of La Briere, the plantation house of the de Malheurs. Lucien had been living there alone, the only survivor of a virulent outbreak of cholera, and the two young men, barely more than boys, had bonded together, determined to escape.

Looking around, do you see ruins? That was to be expected. He who lives in the world of words does not get along with things.