He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips' touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete.
F. Scott FitzgeraldRelated topics
breath flower forever girl listening longer mind moment perishable strike touch unutterable lipsRelated quotes
Yes, it's true. It's true that Joan of Arc was my dream as a little girl. I discovered her toward the age of ten or twelve, when I went to France. I don't remember where I read about her, but I recall that she immediately took on a definite importance for me. I wanted to sacrifice my life for my country. It seems like foolishness and yet ... what happens when we're children is engraved forever in our lives.
Indira Gandhi
David is the song upon God's lips,
And Our Lady is the goblet that He sips:
And Gabriel's the breath of His command,
But Saint Michael is the sword in God's right hand. The Ivory Tower is fair to see,
And may her walls encompass me!
But when the Devil comes with the thunder of his might,
Saint Michael, show me how to fight!
Joyce Kilmer
The touch, sure and light [is] fixing something of the passing moment.. ..memory is the true, imperishable life, that which has sunk without trace and been forgotten was not worth experiencing, the sweet hours, and the great and dread, are immutable. Dreams are life itself – and dreams are more true than reality; in them we behave as our true selves – if we have a soul it is there.
Berthe Morisot
In your eyes,
The light, the heat.
In your eyes,
I am complete.
In your eyes,
I see the doorway to a thousand churches.
In your eyes,
The resolution of all the fruitless searches.In your eyes,
I see the light and the heat.
In your eyes,
Oh, I want to be that complete.
I want to touch the light, the heat I see in your eyes.
Peter Gabriel
It may be that to eat and be eaten are the same thing in the end. My wisdom tells me that this is probably so. We are all made of the same stuff, remember, we of the Jungle, you of the City. The same substance composes us - the tree overhead, the stone beneath us, the bird, the beast, the star - we are all one, all moving to the same end. Remember that when you no longer remember me, my child.
P. L. Travers