Pale Quotes - Page 5

• For a hundred and fifty years, in the pasture of dead horses,
  roots of pine trees pushed through the pale curves of your ribs,
  yellow blossoms flourished above you in autumn, and in winter
  frost heaved your bones in the ground--old toilers, soil makers:
  O Roger, Mackerel, Riley, Ned, Nellie, Chester, Lady Ghost.

  Donald Hall

  Horse, Winter, Autumn

  Donald Hall (1990). “Old and New Poems: Donald Hall”, p.163, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Courage is not a virtue of value among other personal values like love or fidelity. It is the foundation that underlies and gives reality to all other virtues and personal values. Without courage our love pales into mere dependency. Without courage our fidelity becomes conformism.

  Rollo May

  Courage, Reality, Like Love

  Rollo May (1994). "El valor de crear", p. 13, W. W. Norton & Company.

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• The lore of our fathers is a fabric of sentences. In our hands it develops and changes, through more or less arbitrary and deliberate revisions and additions of our own, more or less directly occasioned by the continuing stimulation of our sense organs. It is a pale gray lore, black with fact and white with convention. But I have found no substantial reasons for concluding that there are any quite black threads in it, or any white ones.

  Willard Van Orman Quine

  Father, White, Hands

  Willard Van Orman Quine (1976). “The Ways of Paradox, and Other Essays”, p.132, Harvard University Press

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• The horseman on the pale horse is Pestilence. He follows the wars.

  Ardel Wray

  Horse, War, Pestilence

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• As Daenerys Targaryen rose to her feet, her black hissed, pale smoke venting from its mouth and nostrils. The other two pulled away from her breasts and added their voices to the call, translucent wings unfolding and stirring the air, and for the first time in hundreds of years, the night came alive with the music of dragons.

  George R. R. Martin

  Night, Air, Dragons

  George R. R. Martin (2003). “A Game of Thrones: A Song of Ice and Fire: Book One”, p.816, Bantam

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• "Simon,” said a voice at his shoulder, and he turned to see Izzy, her face a pale smudge between dark hair and dark cloak, looking at him, her expression half-angry, half-sad. “I guess this is the part where we say good-bye?

  Cassandra Clare

  Goodbye, Dark, Hair

  "City of Heavenly Fire". Book by Cassandra Clare, May 27, 2014.

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• Dumbledore volvía a estar en pie, pálido como cualquiera de los Inferi que lo rodeaban, pero más alto que ninguno también, con el fuego bailándole en los ojos; tenía la varita levantada como una antorcha y de su punta emanaban las llamas, como un inmenso lazo, rodeándolos a todos de calor.

  J. K. Rowling

  Ojo, Fuego, Llamas

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• Not gray, exactly. Right before the sun rises there's a moment when the whole sky goes this pale nothing color-not really gray but sort of, or sort of white, and I've always really liked it because it reminds me of waiting for something good to happen.

  Lauren Oliver

  Color, Sky, White

  Lauren Oliver (2011). “Delirium”, p.23, Harper Collins

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• If I ever win you," he said, anger bright in his pale eyes, "it will be because you want me more. Not because he's gone. I'm nobody's second best.

  Ann Aguirre

  Eye, Winning, Gone

  Ann Aguirre (2012). “Outpost”, p.167, Macmillan

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• He stared dully at the desolate, cold road and the pale, dead night. Nothing was colder or more dead than his heart. He had loved an angel and now he despised a woman.

  Gaston Leroux

  Heart, Angel, Night

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• She had fallen asleep with her head on his arm, the clockwork angel, still around her throat, resting against his shoulder just to the left of his collarbone. As she moved away, the clockwork angel slipped free and she saw to her surprise that where it had lain against his skin it had left a mark behind, no bigger than a shilling, in the shape of a pale white star.

  Cassandra Clare

  Stars, Angel, White

  Cassandra Clare (2013). “The Infernal Devices: Clockwork Angel; Clockwork Prince; Clockwork Princess”, p.1311, Simon and Schuster

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• And somewhat as in blind night, on a mild sea, a sailor may be made aware of an iceberg, fanged and mortal, bearing invisibly near, by the unwarned charm of its breath, nothingness now revealed itself: that permanent night upon which the stars in their expiring generations are less than the glinting of gnats, and nebulae, more trivial than winter breath; that darkness in which eternity lies bent and pale, a dead snake in a jar, and infinity is the sparkling of a wren blown out to sea; that inconceivable chasm of invulnerable silence in which cataclysms of galaxies rave mute as amber.

  James Agee

  Stars, Lying, Winter

  James Agee (2008). “A Death in the Family”, p.66, Penguin

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• Camino por las arenas de los sueños bajo la pálida luna: a través de los sueños de países y ciudades, sueños pasados de lugares lejanos y tiempos que no se recuerdan.

  Neil Gaiman

  Country, Dream, Past

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• Estaban en una habitación muy grande. Las tablas del suelo se extendían pálidamente a sus pies. Había tanto polvo en el suelo que tenía un brillo nacarado. "Ni siquiera tú podrías echarte una siesta en este suelo", le dijo Kami a Ángela. "No sé, un colchón de polvo podría ser muy cómodo", dijo Angela. "También posiblemente ortopédico.

  Sarah Rees Brennan

  Naps, Dust, Feet

  Sarah Rees Brennan (2012). “Unspoken”, p.229, Simon and Schuster

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• Al final llegó. Apareció de repente, exactamente como lo había hecho aquel día: salió a la luz del sol, saltó, se rió y echó la cabeza hacia atrás, de modo que su larga coleta casi rozaba la cintura de sus vaqueros. Después de eso, no pude pensar en nada más. El lunar en la parte interior de su codo derecho, como una mancha oscura de tinta. La forma en que se destrozaba las uñas cuando estaba nerviosa. Sus ojos, profundos como una promesa. Su vientre, pálido, suave y precioso, y la pequeña cavidad oscura de su ombligo. Casi me vuelvo loco.

  Lauren Oliver

  Loco, Ojo, Sol

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• Lo que en los hombres mezquinos llamamos paciencia es pálida y fría cobardía en los pechos nobles.

  William Shakespeare

  Patience, Mean, Men

  William Shakespeare (2013). “Second Tetralogy In Plain and Simple English: Includes Richard II, Henry IV Parts 1 and 2, and Henry V”, p.24, BookCaps Study Guides

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• A hat is a shameless flatterer, calling attention to an escaping curl, a tawny braid, a sprinkling of freckles over a pert nose, directing the eye to what is most unique about a face. Its curves emphasize a shining pair of eyes, a lofty forehead; its deep brim accentuates the pale tint of a cheek, creates an aura of prettiness, suggests a mystery that awakens curiosity in the onlooker.

  Jeanine Larmoth

  Eye, Unique, Curves

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• Quiero ser el apóstol de la autodestrucción. Quiero que mi libro afecte a la razón del hombre, a sus emociones, a sus nervios, a toda su naturaleza animal. Quiero que mi libro haga que la gente palidezca de horror al leerlo, que les afecte como una droga, como un sueño aterrador, que les vuelva locos, que les haga maldecirme y odiarme, pero aun así leerme.

  Leonid Andreyev

  Sueño, Odio, Libro

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• Existe un instinto de realismo, un poderoso impulso a reproducirse a uno mismo. La fascinación de las pinturas fotorrealistas reside en parte en su aparente reproducción de la vida, pero no son meras réplicas. A menudo, estas pinturas no se ajustan a la escala real, sino que varían de un tamaño superior al natural a un tamaño inferior, de colores brillantes y exaltados a tonos pálidos y subtonos.

  Audrey Flack

  Poderoso, Mentira, Color

  Audrey Flack (1986). "Arte y alma: notas sobre la creación", Dutton Adultos

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• All the pale horses of the apocalypse have stormed through my life, revolution, starvation, devaluation of currency and terror, epidemics, emigration; I have seen the great ideologies of the masses grow and spread out before my eyes. Fascism in Italy, National Socialism in Germany, Bolshevism in Russia, and, above all, that archpestilence, nationalism, which poisoned our flourishing European culture.

  Stefan Zweig

  Horse, Eye, Epidemics

  "The World of Yesterday: Memories of a European". Book by Stefan Zweig, transl. by Marion Sonnenfeld, p. 10, 1942.

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• Las modas pasan rápidamente, y nada es más patético que esas marionetas de la moda escandalosamente maquilladas un día, pálidas al siguiente, plisadas o planchadas tiesas, libertinas o ascéticas. Jugar con la moda es un arte. La primera regla es no quemarse las alas.

  Yves Saint Laurent

  Fashion, Art, Wings

  Yves Saint Laurent (1983). “Catalog of the Exhibition Held at the Costume”, p.18, Metropolitan Museum of Art

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• I saw the Count lying within the box upon the earth, some of which the rude falling from the cart had scattered over him. He was deathly pale, just like a waxen image, and the red eyes glared with the horrible vindictive look which I knew so well.

  Bram Stoker

  Lying, Fall, Eye

  Bram Stoker (2007). “Dracula”, p.597, Book Jungle

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• The pale, cold light of the winter sunset did not beautify - it was like the light of truth itself.

  Willa Cather

  Sunset, Winter, Light

  Willa Cather (2013). “The Best of Willa Cather”, p.574, Simon and Schuster

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• I hate my verses, every line, every word. Oh pale and brittle pencils ever to try One grass-blade's curve, or the throat of one bird That clings to twig, ruffled against white sky. Oh cracked and twilight mirrors ever to catch One color, one glinting flash, of the splendor of things.

  Robinson Jeffers

  Hate, Twilight, Curves

  Robinson Jeffers, Tim Hunt (1988). “The Collected Poetry of Robinson Jeffers: 1928-1938”, p.410, Stanford University Press

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• Para mí, la pesca y el periodismo tocan los mismos lugares de mi cabeza. En comparación con la de los poetas, las experiencias de los pescadores con mosca y los periodistas son probablemente sabores pálidos, pero llevan sin embargo una pizca de ambrosía.

  Howell Raines

  Fishing, Hints, Flavor

  Howell Raines (2006). “The One that Got Away: A Memoir”, p.153, Simon and Schuster

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