Laura Whitcomb Quotes

I would court you with passion, if things were different. you'd never get me off your porch swing.

The fear of being noticed after a hundred years disappears as I look into a pair of autumn-colored eyes.

It was all real and blazing with detail.
But I was shadow, light as mist, mute as the wallpaper.

Beyond this Door, Heaven waits.

The material was wrinkled, yet even in the low light it remembered the shape of two bodies.

He was watching me and when our eyes met, i had no fan to cover my face, no way to hid my feelings. i was desperate for him, and he could see it, all the way in me.

Obedience is bondage, if God wants to be adored he should make himself more loving.

This green place in which I stood with James turned slowly around us like a music box. All my memories returning, and all his. I could see and feel each of his days and he mine. Childhood songs, books read, hearts broken, arguments forgiven.The sweetness of these imperfections far outshining the regrets. Our lives overlapped as naturally as two blades of grass brushing together.
My pain forgotten, my clothes dry and clean, I pulled James close to me. As he lifted my chin, I felt no sensation of falling as when I had been Light touching one who is Quick. It wasn't the mere heat of a stolen moment in borrowed flesh. We touched now soul to soul, both of us Light. And when we kissed, the garden rocked, floating upstream.

I couldn't take my eyes off him. Like a desert wanderer afraid of mirages, I gazed at my oasis, but he was real.

Boys and girls hid in the library stacks or behind the gym and flew at each other with no promise of love or even kindness, tasting one another in clumsly attempts to steal pleasure before they could be hurt or hated.

Be a sparrow, I told myself. Be silent and fly away. No one will bother you if you disappear.

I had asked her for help, and she had sent me to the lions. I knew that she was trying to save her little girl, but sometimes mothers with the best intentions kill their daughters all the same.

It seemed as natural as two blades of grass brushing each other in the wind.

Like a glimpse of eternity instantly forgotten. She is gone.

As his flesh touched my spirit, the feeling of falling turned into a feeling of flying. I was soaring through time toward him.

Books are boring," James said as he wrote.
"They line the walls like a thousand leather doorways to be opened into worlds unknown," I offered.

I studied a crescent moon hung crooked in a plum purple sky and thought about what it would be like to truly be seen.

Just walk up to your hell & give it a push. Run through it & i'll be waiting on the other side.

Your mind will never lose anything forever that's worth keeping.

As I look around the quiet room, I see a thousand leather covers like doorways into worlds unknown.

The library smells like old books - a thousand leather doorways into other worlds. I hear silence, like the mind of God. I feel a presence in the empty chair beside me. The librarian watches me suspiciously. But the library is a sacred place, and I sit with the patron saint of readers. Pulsing goddess light moves through me for one moment like a glimpse of eternity instantly forgotten. She is gone. I smell mold, I hear the clock ticking, I see an empty chair. Ask me now and I'll say this is just a place where you can't play music or eat. She's gone. The library sucks.

Perhaps it wasn't that time had frozen but that it was now moving at the pace of infinity. A moment now becomes a century.

A Letter from a Muse to Her Poet: Dear sir, I was called away and couldn't bring you, but now I feel haunted. I know that sometimes you felt I was a part of you and that losing me would leave a hole in your heart, but that's not true. I liked to pretend I was the core of your talent, but it wasn't me. Everything you do, the ideas you weave, the lines you write, the words you choose, it was always only you. Please forgive me. I'm sorry that I didn't say goodbye.

It seemed as if humans had lost the ability to make their own fun. The more they were gifted with inventions, the less they needed one another. They didn't sing or play the fiddle at the hearth; they turned on the stereo. They didn't tell stories on the porch; they watched television.

That I am your heart's secret fills me with song. I wish I could sing of you here in my cage. You are my heart's hidden poem. I reread you, memorize you every moment we're apart.

I felt my being flutter. each tousled head that came through the door i wanted to be his, but no and on, a dozen boys entered, yet not the one.

Pulsing goddess light moves through me for one moment like - Here Mr. Brown paused again. Like a glimpse of eternity instantly forgotten.

Someone was looking at me, a disturbing sensation if you're dead.

As I watched that single thread of lightning billow through the water above me like the aurora borealis, I imagined the heavy cord of time stretching away from me in the water like the hard, thick rope on a great ship.