Broken Angel Wing Quotes

In the farthest corner of the third floor, Jonto - Emery's skeletal paper butler - hung by a noose from a nail in the ceiling, hovering over a mess of rolled paper tubes, tape, and symmetrical cuts of paper. Emery, wearing his newest coat, a maroon-colored one, stood on a stool beside him, affixing a six-foot-long bat wing to Jonto's spine.

Ceony blinked, taking in the sight. She really shouldn't be surprised.

"I thought I had a few more years before I saw the angel of death," she said, folding her arms under her breasts. "Even just half of him. ~ Charlie N. Holmberg

The twin guardian angels whose eyes and hands and wings had focused protective attention on the souls that lay there no longer faced each other. They stared blindly into a random middle distance. The scroll they held between them proclaiming eternal resurrection was broken in two. ~ Clare Morgan

Love without esteem cannot go far or reach high. It is an angel with only one wing. ~ Alexandre Dumas-fils

If you have been brutally broken, but still have the courage to be gentle to other living beings, then you're a badass with the heart of an angel. ~ Keanu Reeves

May with its light behaving
Stirs vessel, eye and limb,
The singular and sad
Are willing to recover,
And to each swan-delighting river
The careless picnics come
In living white and red.

Our dead, remote and hooded,
In hollows rest, but we
From their vague woods have broken,
Forests where children meet
And the white angel-vampires flit,
Stand now with shaded eye,
The dangerous apple taken.

The real world lies before us,
Brave motions of the young,
Abundant wish for death,
The pleasing, pleasured, haunted:
A dying Master sinks tormented
In his admirers' ring,
The unjust walk the earth.

And love that makes impatient
Tortoise and roe, that lays
The blonde beside the dark,
Urges upon our blood,
Before the evil and the good
How insufficient is
Touch, endearment, look. ~ W. H. Auden

God uses people. God uses people to perform His work. He does not send angels. Angels weep over it, but God does not use angels to accomplish His purposes. He uses burdened broken-hearted weeping men and women. ~ David Wilkerson

He looks like an angel, if a broken one. ~ Marie Lu

Animals are divine messengers of miracles that go far beyond emotional comfort and practical assistance. Talk to those who have been transported to a heavenly place by the gentle purring of a kitten or whose broken hearts, burdened by worry and pain, have been mended by a dog licking their hand. They will tell you that animals connect them with the River of Life in ways poets imagine and mystics contemplate. They will tell you that their deepest and most sincere relationships with animals are spiritual partnerships. ~ Allen Anderson

When God Created Mothers"

When the Good Lord was creating mothers, He was into His sixth day of "overtime" when the angel appeared and said. "You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."

And God said, "Have you read the specs on this order?" She has to be completely washable, but not plastic. Have 180 moveable parts...all replaceable. Run on black coffee and leftovers. Have a lap that disappears when she stands up. A kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointed love affair. And six pairs of hands."

The angel shook her head slowly and said. "Six pairs of hands.... no way."

It's not the hands that are causing me problems," God remarked, "it's the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have."

That's on the standard model?" asked the angel. God nodded.

One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks, 'What are you kids doing in there?' when she already knows. Another here in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn't but what she has to know, and of course the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and say. 'I understand and I love you' without so much as uttering a word."

God," said the angel touching his sleeve gently, "Get some rest tomorrow...."

I can't," said God, "I'm so close to creating something so close to myself. Already I have one who heals herself when she is sick...can feed a family of six on one pound of hamb ~ Erma Bombeck

The Vicar stood aghast, with his smoking gun in his hand. It was no bird at all, but a youth with an extremely beautiful face, clad in a robe of saffron and with iridescent wings, across whose pinions great waves of colour, flushes of purple and crimson, golden green and intense blue, pursued one another as he writhed in his agony. Never had the Vicar seen such gorgeous floods of colour, not stained glass windows, not the wings of butterflies, not even the glories of crystals seen between prisms, no colours on earth could compare with them. Twice the Angel raised himself, only to fall over sideways again. Then the beating of the wings diminished, the terrified face grew pale, the floods of colour abated, and suddenly with a sob he lay prone, and the changing hues of the broken wings faded swiftly into one uniform dull grey hue. Oh! ~ H.G.Wells

A statue stands in a shaded place
An angel girl with an upturned face
A name is written on a polished rock
A broken heart that the world forgot ~ Martina Mcbride

She was my black rose, a broken angel I could hug and drift away with into peaceful oblivion. ~ Jess C. Scott

JJ glared at his slumbering frame. Long legs, lethal in denim, his button fly already enticingly popped, abdomen all ridged and naked, begging for a finger or a tongue to discover the hills and valleys, dark shaggy hair spread around his head like a freaking halo on her pillow.
Well too damn bad for this broken-down angel. She was the one who'd worked her ass off until two am. Not him.
And she wanted her bed back. ~ Amy Andrews

He is tangled in Isabelle's arms, he is curtained by Isabelle's hair, he is touching Isabelle's body, he is lost in Isabelle, in her smell and her taste and the silk of her skin.
He is onstage, the music pounding, the floor shaking, the audience cheering, his heart beating beating beating in time with the drumbeat.
He is laughing with Clary, dancing with Clary, eating with Clary, running through the streets of Brooklyn with Clary, they are children together, they are one half of a whole, they hold hands and squeeze tight and pledge never to let go.
He is going cold, stiff, the life draining out of him, he is below, in the dark, clawing his way to the light, fingernails scraping dirt, mouth filled with dirt, eyes clogged with dirt, he is straining, reaching, dragging himself up toward the sky, and when he reaches it, he opens his mouth wide but does not breathe, for he no longer needs to breathe, only to feed. And he is so very hungry.
He is sinking his teeth into the neck of an angel's child, he is drinking the light.
He is bearing a Mark, and it burns.
He is raising his face to meet the gaze of an angel, he is flayed by the fury of angel fire, and yet still, impudent and bloodless, he lives.
He is in a cage.
He is in hell.
He is bent over the broken body of a beautiful girl, he is praying to whatever god that will listen, please let her live, anything to let her live.
He is giving away that which is most precious to him, ~ Cassandra Clare

Ancients pulled metals more precious than gold from the center of the earth - They spun into giant lacy wings that flew them to the stars and back
"Is that what you'd do with wings?"
She shook her head "No, I'd fly to the stars, but I'd never come back ~ Mary E. Pearson

A searchlight catches the plane for an instant. The cockpit is awash with searing bluish brightness. As if a revelation is about to take place. As if an angel is about to appear. He can't see the instrument panel. The finger of light has the aircraft in its grip. Holding her suspended above the city. As if she is perched on a tightrope. Visible to the whole of Berlin down below. The glare bites into his eyes, sucks strength from his legs. He kicks the rudders to the right. The starboard wing tilts down. He pulls the wheel back. Below, a shifting tableau of coloured globes slide over the tilting smoking surface of the earth. Some roads and buildings made visible by fires and incendiaries. ~ Glenn Haybittle

Her image had passed into his soul for ever and no word had broken the holy silence of his ecstasy. Her eyes had called him and his soul had leaped at the call. To live, to err, to fall, to triumph, to recreate life out of life! A wild angel had appeared to him, the angel of mortal youth and beauty, an envoy from the fair courts of life, to throw open before him in an instant of ecstasy the gates of all the ways of error and glory. On and on and on and on! ~ James Joyce

I feel like role models today are not meant to be put on a pedestal. But more like angels with broken wings. ~ Tupac Shakur

You're not broken.' I touch the angel between the wings on his back for emphasis. 'You're putting your life back together. Building isn't breaking, Chase. ~ S.R. Grey

I don't do it for Michael. I do it for them."

"Them?"

"People."

"They're broken! Flawed!"

"Yes, but some of them try to do better. Try to forgive. ~ Gabriel And Lucifer

Christianity . . . does not [simply] stand in the history that we only know and which knowledge we take to ourselves so that we say "Christ died for us and has broken death in us and made it into life. He has paid the debt for us. We need only to comfort ourselves with this and firmly believe that it has happened."

Since we in ourselves find that sin in the flesh is living, desirous and active, that it might work, the new birth out of Christ must be something else that does not work along with the sinful flesh and that does not will sin. . . .

Here a Christian is to consider why he calls himself a Christian and is truly to consider whether he is one. Because I may learn to know and understand that I am a sinner, and that Christ has killed my sins on the cross and shed His blood for me, this in no way makes a Christian out of me. The inheritance is only for the children. A maid in the house knows well what the wife would eagerly have. This does not therefore make her an inheritor of the wife's goods. The devil also knows that there is a God [James 2:19]. That does not therefore make him an angel again. However, if the maid in the household marries the wife's son, then she can truly come to the inheritance of the wife's goods. . . .

The scorner and the titular Christian is the whore's son, who must be cast out for he is not to inherit Christ's inheritance in the kingdom of God (Galatians 4:30). He is no use, and only Babel, a confusion of the on ~ Jakob Bohme

Are we safe from human exposure? I don't want the owners to find a busted-up angel and a buzzed vampire lurking in their shed and freak out. ~ Brandy Nacole

Oh, you poor angel. I know I joke, but I think perhaps you are a few feathers short of a wing. ~ Ashlan Thomas

I finished polishing the clock and picked up one of the figurines next to it. It was in the shape of an angel and on the angel's gown were printed the words: ALMIGHTY GOD, GIVE US SERENITY TO ACCEPT WHAT CANNOT BE CHANGED, COURAGE TO CHANGE WHAT SHOULD BE CHANGED, AND WISDOM TO KNOW THE ONE FROM THE OTHER. What if you couldn't do that? Couldn't change things and couldn't accept them, either? I took hold of the angel's head and snapped it off. And then I snapped one wing off, and then the other. I broke his arms off, too, and then I asked him how serene he was feeling now ~ Jennifer Donnelly

Start by pulling him out of the fire and
hoping that he will forget the smell.
He was supposed to be an angel but they took him
from that light and turned him into something hungry,
something that forgets what his hands are for when they
aren't shaking.
He will lose so much, and you will watch it all happen
because you had him first, and you would let the world
break its own neck if it means keeping him.
Start by wiping the blood off of his chin and
pretending to understand.
Repeat to yourself
"I won't leave you, I won't leave you"
until you fall asleep and dream of the place
where nothing is red.
When is a monster not a monster?
Oh, when you love it.
Oh, when you used to sing it to sleep.
Here are your upturned hands.
Give them to him and watch how he prays
like he is learning his first words.
Start by pulling him out of another fire,
and putting him back together with the pieces
you find on the floor.
There is so much to forgive, but you do not
know how to forget.
When is a monster not a monster?
Oh, when you are the reason it has become so mangled.
Here is your humble offering,
obliterated and broken in the mouth
of this abandoned church.
He has come back to stop the world
from turning itself inside out, and you love him, you do,
so you won't let him.
Tell him that you will never know any better. ~ Caitlyn Siehl

The function of the wing is to take what is heavy and raise it up in the region above. ~ Plato

It is easier to teach saints than to learn from sinners.
It is easier to teach young students than to guide old fools.
It is easier to chastise saints than to caution sinners.
It is easier to shine in the dark than to glow in the light.
It is easier to multiply enemies than to accumulate friends.
It is easier to embrace your angel than to face your demons.
It is easier to fight an army of opinions than a single truth.
It is easier to rise with enemies than to fall with friends.
It is easier to fall into sin than to rise into virtue.
It is easier to rise from defeat than to rise from ignorance.
It is easier to survive a blow from a friend than a kiss from an enemy.
It is easier to conquer a thousand devils than a single angel.
It is easier to rise from love than to soar from hate.
It is easier to move mountains by faith than hills by your hands.
It is easier for stars to shine than for truth to glow.
It is easier to resist pain than to defy pleasure.
It is easier to appease the strong than to wrestle the mighty.
It is easier to tame the mind than to bridle the soul.
It is easier to fight an army than to grapple with your conscience.
It is easier to embrace the future than to understand the past.
It is easier for the sun to shine than for the moon to glow.
It is easier for small seeds to rise than for big trees to grow.
It is easier to heal a wounded heart than a broken ~ Matshona Dhliwayo

Please?" asked the girl.

"I AM BUSY. I AM TRYING TO FIX CONTINENTAL DRIFT."

"I…didn't know it was broken."

Uriel's face became more animated, his speech faster.

"IT HAS BEEN BROKEN FOR FIVE WEEKS AND FIVE DAYS. I THINK IT BROKE WHEN I RELOADED NEW ZEALAND FROM A BACKUP COPY, BUT I DO NOT KNOW WHY. MY SYNCHRONIZATION WAS IMPECCABLE AND THE CHANGE PROPAGATED SIMULTANEOUSLY ACROSS ALL SEPHIROT. I THINK SOMEBODY BOILED A GOAT IN ITS MOTHER'S MILK. IT IS ALWAYS THAT. I KEEP TELLING PEOPLE NOT TO DO IT, BUT NOBODY LISTENS. ~ Scott Alexander

Feathers layered like dragons' scales,
their symmetry perfectly fledged,
framing slender shoulders; sublime.
A tumble of red tresses shimmer.
Soft wings arch toward the sky.

Once a cherub, she has grown.
A young woman now, strong and lithe.
Powerful with stormy eyes alight,
windswept in her glory.
An angel in body and spirit.
- Winged Justice ~ Mara Amberly

< I'd take a cold beer, a hot shower, and a good night's sleep.> He smirked.
< No beer, and I've slept all day - thanks to you. But I have a shower. And I know from experience that it fits one patient and one nurse with minimal cramping.>
< Mmm. Sounds great. A hot shower with a hot guy.>
I laughed, a harsh wheeze that grated my ears. I ignored it. I'd done enough wallowing, and after the day he'd had, I only wanted to be strong and happy for Luke.< That's bold, Nurse. Where's that innocent angel who so expertly sucked my cock yesterday?>
He laughed, too. I loved it. I wished I could get him to break down and actually talk to me, but I was getting pretty good at making him share his laughter. It warmed me from inside.
< Sorry, muffin. Exhausted. My filter must be broken.>
Muffin? I decided I loved it. From him, at least. I reached out, taking his hand. He squeezed, his thumb pressing into the meat of my palm, reminding me of our first real conversation. It did nothing to bank the flames that had distracted me all day. I wondered if there was, in fact, something I could do to help Luke feel good at the end of a shitty shift.
< I wasn't 100% kidding about the shower.>
He grinned.
< But you're cute when you're being tempted.>
He rolled his eyes. < And you're tempting when you're being cute.> ~ Peter Styles

I want you to tell me why you have a pair of broken angel wings on your shoulder. I want you to tell me why you cut your wrists and I want to know why and how you play and sing the way you do, but most of all I want you to tell me what I need to do to be a good enough man for you. ~ Christine Zolendz

It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear, But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears. It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw, But rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight. ~ Kahlil Gibran

The feather, whence the pen Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men, Dropped from an angel's wing. ~ William Wordsworth

Unfortunately, spiritual development often attracts the emotionally unstable who can become even more damaged when building upon shaky structures. The emotional body is the framework through which the other three bodies spring, so if it's broken the others will eventually collapse - often with fatalistic results. Worth its weight in gold, emotional stability can occur naturally, but is usually cultivated through painstaking inflection, awareness, and release. Through release then forgiveness, the auric field amplifies its inherent magnetic function, enabling intent to manifest, therefore producing a more forward momentum in life. ~ Angel Cusick