Fluttering Quotes - Page 2

• A persistent breeze lifted the thin curtains, fluttering a few moments of tranquility into the turbulent day.

  Susan Abulhawa

  Tranquility, Moments, Curtains

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• And how to paint your lovely hands, fluttering over the silks like two dark birds?

  Elizabeth Borton de Trevino

  Dark, Two, Hands

  Elizabeth Borton de Treviño (1999). “I, Juan De Pareja”, Turtleback Books

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• She glanced across to where Tilly and her brand new husband were posing for photographs, Tilly fluttering a fan coquettishly in front of her face. 'Unfortunately I didn't realise there was a French Revolutionary theme.' 'The Marie-Antoinette thing?' said Dexter. 'Well at least we know there'll be cake.

  David Nicholls

  Husband, Cake, Fans

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• Sweet, can I sing you the song of your kisses? How soft is this one, how subtle this is, How fluttering swift as a bird's kiss that is, As a bird that taps at a leafy lattice; How this one clings and how that uncloses From bud to flower in the way of roses.

  Arthur Symons

  Love, Crush, Song

  Arthur Symons (1919). "Poemas"

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• The wild bird that flies so lone and far has somewhere its nest and brood. A little fluttering heart of love impels its wings, and points its course. There is nothing so solitary as a solitary man.

  Edwin Hubbel Chapin

  Corazón, Hombres, Alas

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• ¿Qué hay más alegre, ahora, en el otoño del año, que un fuego de leña abierto? ¿Oyes esos gorjeos y gorjeos que salen de ese trozo de manzano? Son los fantasmas de los petirrojos y los pájaros azules que cantaban en la rama cuando estaba en flor la primavera pasada. En verano, bandadas enteras vienen a revolotear alrededor de los árboles frutales que hay bajo la ventana; así que tengo pájaros cantores todo el año.

  Thomas Bailey Aldrich

  Verano, primavera, otoño

  Thomas Bailey Aldrich (1873). "Marjorie Daw y otras personas", p.168

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• I watched the edges of the leaves slowly unfold, fluttering in the breeze. "How long did you wait?" It would've been unbearably romantic if he'd had he courage to look into my face and say it, but instead, he dropped his eyes to the ground and scuffed his boot in the leaves- countless possibilities for happy days- on the ground. "I haven't stopped.

  Maggie Stiefvater

  Eye, Long, Waiting

  Maggie Stiefvater (2011). “Shiver Trilogy (Shiver, Linger, Forever)”, p.101, Scholastic Inc.

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• Cuando estoy maníaca, estoy tan despierta y alerta que el aleteo de mis pestañas sobre la almohada suena como un trueno.

  Andy Behrman

  Pestañas, Sonido, Trueno

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• Kevin stopped where he was and stood there simply gazing at her. Molly sat cross-legged in the meadow with the sun shining on her bare shoulders and a pair of yellow butterflies fluttering like hair bows around her head. She was all the dreams he'd lost at dawn-dreams of everything he hadn't understood he needed until now. She was his playmate, his confidante, the lover who made his blood rush. She was the mother of his children and the companion of his old age. She was the joy of his heart.

  Susan Elizabeth Phillips

  Madre, Sueño, Hijos

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• Living by synchronicity isn't merely about getting messages. It is about growing the poetic consciousness that allows us to taste and touch what rhymes and resonates in the world we inhabit, and how the world-behind-th e-world reveals itself by fluttering the veils of our consensual reality.

  Robert Moss

  Reality, Veils, World

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• Me gustó mucho alojarme en un campamento en lo alto de una colina de la reserva de Samburu, en Kenia. Se llega en avioneta; no hay electricidad, ni ruidos de ciudad y se duerme y se ducha bajo la Vía Láctea, con polillas revoloteando alrededor de una lámpara de queroseno, sabiendo que hay elefantes y leones campando a sus anchas por el valle.

  Cherie Lunghi

  Sueño, ciudades, elefantes

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• Contemplaron tormentas tan distantes que no se oían, los silenciosos relámpagos flameando y la delgada espina negra de la cadena montañosa agitándose y absorbiéndose de nuevo en la oscuridad. Vieron caballos salvajes corriendo por la llanura, golpeando con sus sombras la noche y dejando a la luz de la luna un polvo vaporoso como la mancha pálida de su paso.

  Cormac McCarthy

  Caballo, Oscuridad, Noche

  Cormac McCarthy (2015). "Meridiano de sangre: Picador Classic", p.49, Pan Macmillan

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• Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tyson pounding the Earthborn into the ground like a game of whack-a-mole. Ella was fluttering above him, dodging missiles and calling out advice: "The groin. The Earthborn's groin is sensitive." SMASH! "Good. Yes. Tyson found its groin.

  Rick Riordan

  Eye, Games, Advice

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• Wasn't there a spell for making yourself happy? Somebody must have invented one. How could he have missed it? Why didn't they teach it? Was it in the library, a flying book fluttering just out of reach, beating its wings against some high window?

  Lev Grossman

  Book, Wings, Flying

  Lev Grossman (2015). “The Magicians Trilogy”, p.170, Penguin

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• It is a thorny undertaking, and more so than it seems, to follow a movement so wandering as that of our mind, to penetrate the opaque depths of its innermost folds, to pick out and immobilize the innumerable flutterings that agitate it.

  Michel de Montaigne

  Mind, Depth, Movement

  Michel de Montaigne (1958). “Complete Essays”, p.273, Stanford University Press

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• It was a bird. A bird struggling through stickiness: a bird coated in paint, floundering in its nest, splashing color everywhere. Red. Red. Red. Dozens of them: black feathers coated thickly with crimson-colored paint, fluttering among the branches. Red means run.

  Lauren Oliver

  Correr, Luchar, Significar

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• They leave things behind sometimes, the guests. A bottle of scent. A crumpled handkerchief. A pearl button that fell off a dress and rolled under a bed. And sometimes they leave other sorts of things. Things you can't see. A sigh trapped in a corner. Memories tangled in the curtains. A sob fluttering against the windowpane like a bird that flew in and can't get back out. I can feel these things. They dart and crouch and whisper.

  Jennifer Donnelly

  Memories, Tangled, Bird

  Jennifer Donnelly (2015). “A Gathering Light”, p.82, Bloomsbury Publishing

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• No esperes a la musa. Como ya he dicho, es un tipo duro que no es susceptible de muchos aleteos creativos. No estamos hablando de la ouija ni del mundo de los espíritus, sino de un trabajo más, como colocar tuberías o conducir camiones de larga distancia. Tu trabajo es asegurarte de que la musa sabe dónde vas a estar cada día de nueve a doce o de siete a tres. Si lo sabe, te aseguro que tarde o temprano empezará a aparecer.

  Stephen King

  Trabajo, Hablar, Largo

  Stephen King (2000). "On Writing: A Memoir Of The Craft", p.99, Simon and Schuster

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• Una habitación llena de palabras que son casi la verdad pero no del todo, cada nota revoloteando del vapor de su rosa como un ala rota de mariposa.

  Lauren Oliver

  Mariposa, Alas, Rotas

  Lauren Oliver (2010). "Before I Fall", p.222, Hachette UK

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• When he laughed in his throat, the butterfly laughed at me too. It's obscene fluttering corrupted me into darkness.

  Kazuya Minekura

  Butterfly, Darkness, Throat

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• The faerie represent the beauty we don't see, or even choose to ignore. That's why I'll paint them in junkyards, or fluttering around a sleeping wino. No place or person is immune to spirit. Look hard enough, and everything has a story. Everybody is important."- Jilly Coppercorn

  Charles de Lint

  Sleep, Important, Looks

  Charles de Lint (2002). “The Onion Girl”, p.508, Macmillan

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• The space that I can call mine.. is so small that my ideas have become small. I am like a caterpillar in a cocoon of paper; all around me are sketches for sculptures, small drawings that seem like moths fluttering against the windows, beating their wings to escape from this tiny space.. Every day the ideas come more reluctantly, as though they know I will starve them and stunt their growth.

  Audrey Niffenegger

  Wings, Ideas, Drawing

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• I hear an almost inaudible but pervasive discontent with the price we pay for our current materialism. And I hear a fluttering of hope that there might be more to life than bread and circuses.

  Bill Moyers

  Strength, Might, Pay

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• The war could kill the faith in him, too, if he was not strong or careful enough. He could feel it fluttering within him sometimes, a bird in a cage of knives. Its own blood on its face and wings.

  Brian Francis

  Strong, War, Blood

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• Synchronize watches at oh six hundred' says the infantry captain, and each of his huddled lieutenants finds respite from fear in the act of bringing two tiny pointers into jeweled alignment while tons of heavy artillery go fluttering overhead: the prosaic, civilian-looking dial of the watch has restored, however briefly, an illusion of personal control. Good, it counsels, looking tidily up from the hairs and veins of each terribly vulnerable wrist; fine: so far, everything's happening right on time.

  Richard Yates

  Hair, Two, Watches

  Richard Yates (2010). “Revolutionary Road”, p.213, Random House

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