Bucciarelli Lamp Quotes

The mental powers acquire their full robustness when the cheek loses its ruddy hue, and the limbs their elastic step; and pale thought sits on manly brows, and the watchman, as he walks his rounds, sees the student's lamp burning far into the silent night. ~ Thomas Guthrie

And books all over the floor, some stocked in piles, some worn-looking, some brand-new, some splayed upside down, some sliding off the pink bedside table next to the lamp with the orange fabric shade. ~ Rebecca Stead

The moth prefers the moon and detests the sun, while the butterfly loves the sun and hides from the moon. Every living creature responds to light. But depending on the amount of light you have inside, determines which lamp in the sky your heart will swoon. ~ Suzy Kassem

Those dreams are true which we have in the morning, as the lamp begins to flicker.
[Lat., Namque sub Aurora jam dormitante lucerna
Sommia quo cerni tempore vera solent.] ~ Ovid

Happy is the man who has that in his soul which acts upon the dejected as April airs upon violet roots. Gifts from the hand are silver and gold, but the heart gives that which neither silver nor gold can buy. To be full of goodness, full of cheerfulness, full of sympathy, full of helpful hope, causes a man to carry blessings of which he is himself as unconscious as a lamp is of its own shining. Such a one moves on human life as stars move on dark seas to bewildered mariners; as the sun wheels, bringing all the seasons with him from the south. ~ Henry Ward Beecher

Power is the central promise of evil, the dark light of that lamp, because nothing extinguishes the soul more quickly than pride in power. ~ Dean Koontz

It is unnecessary to understand electromagnetic theory before wiring a lamp or to study physics in order to repair a pump. We count on our fingers and give no heed to the proliferating implications of the act. ~ James R Newman

And here is the sense of its existence: it is conscious of being superfluous. It dilutes, scatters itself, tries to lose itself on the brown wall, along the lamp post or down there in the evening mist. But it never forgets itself. That is its lot. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre

Chastity without charity is a lamp without oil. ~ Bonaventure

Where perfumed rivers flow,
Is the home of my beloved.
Where passing breezes halt,
Is the home of my beloved.

Where dawn arrives on bare toes,
Where night paints henna-beams on feet,
Where fragrance bathes in moonlight,
Is the home of my beloved.

Where rays of light roam nakedly,
In green forests of sandalwood.
Where the flame seeks the lamp,
Is the home of my beloved.

Where sunsets sleep on wide waters,
And the deer leap.
Where tears fall for no reason,
Is the home of my beloved.

Where the farmer sleeps hungry,
Even though the wheat is the color of my beloved,
Where the wealthy ones lie in hiding,
Is the home of my beloved.

Where perfumed rivers flow,
Is the home of my beloved.
Where passing breezes halt,
Is the home of my beloved. ~ Shiv Kumar Batalvi

With snow piling all round the door
And many a log on the stove
Where the chickadee's singing a comforting song:
"I'm sure it's you that I love."

O let the wolves howl, they won't find us here
By soft oil lamp we will lie
Now winter is nigh let us fly to my log cabin home in the sky. ~ Mike Heron

Funny thing about Gabby: you wouldn't know it from looking at him, with his golden halo and platonic beauty, but the guy was something of a pack rat. He'd been collecting little odds and ends since at least the double-digit redshifts. The interior reality of Gabriel's Magisterium burbled and shifted like convection currents in a star on the zaftig end of the main sequence. Because, I realized, that's what they were. Dull dim light, from IR to X-ray, oozed past me like the wax in a million-mile lava lamp while carbon, nitrogen, and oxygen nuclei did little do-si-dos about my toes. Every bubble, every sizzle, every new nucleus, every photodissociation tagged something of interest to Gabriel. The heart of this star smelled of roses and musty libraries. ~ Ian Tregillis

The dark has a eased a little. There has been a street-lamp burning, that has lit the threads of the bleached net scarf hung at the window, now it is put out. The light turns filthy pink. The pink gives way to sickly yellow. It creeps, and with it creeps sound - softly at first, then rising in a staggering crescendo: crowning cocks, whistles and bells, dogs, shrieking babies, violent calling, coughing, spitting, the tramp of feet, the endless hollow of beating hooves and the grinding of wheels. Up, up it comes, out of the throat of London. It is six or seven o'clock. ~ Sarah Waters

Charlotte had been beaten over the head with a lamp by an invisible man. I was prepared to give her a pass. ~ Maureen Johnson

Then Night came down like the feathery soot of a smoky lamp, and smutted[9] first the bedquilt, then the hearth-rug, then the window-seat, and then at last the great, stormy, faraway outside world. But sleep did not come. Oh, no! Nothing new came at all except that particularly wretched, itching type of insomnia which seems to rip away from one's body the whole kind, protecting skin and expose all the raw, ticklish fretwork of nerves to the mercy of a gritty blanket or a wrinkled sheet. Pain came too, in its most brutally high night-tide; and sweat, like the smother of furs in summer; and thirst like the scrape of hot sand-paper; and chill like the clammy horror of raw fish. ~ Eleanor Hallowell Abbott

To Selene (Moon)

Hear, Goddess queen, diffusing silver light, bull-horn'd and wand'ring thro' the gloom of Night.
With stars surrounded, and with circuit wide Night's torch extending, thro' the heav'ns you ride:
Female and Male with borrow'd rays you shine, and now full-orb'd, now tending to decline.
Mother of ages, fruit-producing Moon [Mene], whose amber orb makes Night's reflected noon:
Lover of horses, splendid, queen of Night, all-seeing pow'r bedeck'd with starry light.
Lover of vigilance, the foe of strife, in peace rejoicing, and a prudent life:
Fair lamp of Night, its ornament and friend, who giv'st to Nature's works their destin'd end.
Queen of the stars, all-wife Diana hail! Deck'd with a graceful robe and shining veil;
Come, blessed Goddess, prudent, starry, bright, come moony-lamp with chaste and splendid light,
Shine on these sacred rites with prosp'rous rays, and pleas'd accept thy suppliant's mystic praise. ~ Orpheus

what this country needs is a DICTATOR. i feel the time is right, and the place congenial. i will be STRICT but JUST. heads will roll, and CORPSES will swing from EVERY LAMP POST...evil that succeeds is GOOD. the coup is well in preparation. ~ Brother Theodore

Distances"

Swifts turn in the heights of the air;
higher still turn the invisible stars.
When day withdraws to the ends of the earth
their fires shine on a dark expanse of sand.

We live in a world of motion and distance.
The heart flies from tree to bird,
from bird to distant star,
from star to love; and love grows
in the quiet house, turning and working,
servant of thought, a lamp held in one hand. ~ Philippe Jaccottet

To Helen Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece, And the grandeur that was Rome. Lo, in yon brilliant window-niche How statue-like I see thee stand, The agate lamp within thy hand, Ah! Psyche, from the regions which Are Holy Land! ~ Edgar Allan Poe

For a while I didn't have a car ... I had a helicopter ... no place to park it, so I just tied it to a lamp post and left it running. [slow glance upward] ~ Steven Wright

Images of broken light dance behind my eyelids. How could this giant lamp compare to the sun?
Everything is wrong here. Shattered. Broken.
Like the light.
Like me.
I never thought about how important the sky was until I didn't have one.
I am surrounded by walls.
I have just replaced one box for another. ~ Beth Revis

< People make fun of my voice.
I know I don't sound like a hearing person.>
< You sound perfect when you talk. Your voice is beautiful.>
I blushed, feeling my eyes tickle as I looked down and wrote quickly.
< It's not you, like I said. Promise.
It's just the only thing I get hung up about.
It's hard to break down a lifetime of neurosis with a guy I've only known 2 weeks.
No matter how much I like him. And I do like you, Harrison.
A lot.
A LOT.>
He grinned, somehow looking both predatory and shy, and if he hadn't been so far away, I would have grabbed him and kissed him.
< Just give me time, OK?>
< OK.> he replied, and pressed the palm of my hand to his mouth. Then: < I won't ask again. But if you're ever ready to talk, I would love to listen.>
Thank you.
He nodded, slowly. In the dim light of his bedside lamp, his eyes shone like tiny moons.
< So...are most of your friends also deaf?>
He colored as soon as he flashed me the note, snatching it back almost before I'd read it.
< Sorry. That was an asshole way to put it. Do you mostly sign around your friends?>
I guess there were, in fact, two sensitive nerves.
< I don't have a ton of friends.
Jesus. That makes me sound like a loser ~ Peter Styles

Only the young can be alone freely. The time is shorter now for company, And sitting by a lamp more often brings Not peace, but other things. ~ Philip Larkin

Thus thought I, as by night I read Of the great army of the dead, The trenches cold and damp, The starved and frozen camp,
The wounded from the battle-plain, In dreary hospitals of pain, The cheerless corridors, The cold and stony floors. Lo! in that house of misery A lady with a lamp I see Pass through the glimmering gloom And flit from room to room. And slow, as in a dream of bliss, The speechless sufferer turns to kiss Her shadow, as it falls Upon the darkening walls. ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

But not as much as you do. I don't know what to tell you to make you understand. You're like sunlight to her. I'm the fucking lamp in the corner." He paused and shook his head. "No, screw that. You're the sun to her, while I'm a chandelier. Still beautiful, but one drastically outshines the other. ~ Tijan

The story is that while a child named Servius Tullius lay sleeping, his head burst into flames in the sight of many. The general outcry which so great a miracle called forth brought the king and queen to the place. One of the servants fetched water to quench the fire, but was checked by the queen, who stilled the uproar and commanded that the boy should not be disturbed until he awoke of himself. Soon afterwards sleep left him, and with it disappeared the flames. Then, talking her husband aside, Tanaquil Said: 'Do you see this child whom we are bringing up in so humble a fashion? Be assured he will one day be a lamp to our dubious fortunes, and a protector to the royal house in the day of its distress. Let us therefore rear with all solicitude one who will lend high renowen to the state and to our family.' It is said that from that moment the boy began to be looked upon as a son, and to be trained in the studies by which men are inspired to bear themselves greatly. ~ Livy

Finally, slowly, like a newly lighted oil lamp gathering kerosene up into its wick, Wally's face began to glow. He turned to Mack Fulton. "Mack, you know what's on my mind? ~ Clive Cussler

Travel had seemed the key to the kingdom, back then. One dreamed of a life that would enable travel. Howard looked through his window at a lamp-post buried to its waist in show supporting two chained-up, frozen bikes, identifiable only by the tips of their handlebars. He imagined waking up this morning and digging his bike out of the snow and riding to a proper job, the kind Belseys had had for generations, and found he couldn't imagine it. This interested Howard, for a moment: the idea that he could no longer gauge the luxuries of his own life. ~ Zadie Smith

What has he in his hand there?" cried Starbuck, pointing to something wavingly held by the German. "Impossible! - a lamp-feeder!"
"Not that," said Stubb, "no, no, it's a coffee-pot, Mr. Starbuck; he's coming off to make us our coffee, is the Yarman; don't you see that big tin can there alongside of him? - that's his boiling water. Oh! he's all right, is the Yarman. ~ Herman Melville

Aladdin, who said to his wife, I know it's not a lamp, keep rubbing! Never got a dinner! ~ Red Buttons

I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know no way of judging of the future but by the past. ~ Edward Gibbon

Tied to my reading lamp was a single balloon. Filled with helium, it floated in a morning sunray which slanted in through one of the high windows.

On it was a picture of my face, the eyes gone, blood running down from the ragged sockets, a scream distorting the mouth on the balloon's thin and bulging rubber skin.

I looked at it and I screamed. ~ Stephen King

The lamp hummed:
'Regard the moon,
La lune ne garde aucune rancune,
She winks a feeble eye,
She smiles into corners.
She smoothes the hair of the grass.
The moon has lost her memory.
A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone
With all the old nocturnal smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
The reminiscence comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of chestnuts in the streets,
And female smells in shuttered rooms,
And cigarettes in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars. ~ T. S. Eliot

A king is a king, but a bard is the heart and soul of the people; he is their life in song, and the lamp which guides their steps along the paths of destiny. A bard is the essential spirit of the clan; he is the linking ring, the golden cord which unites the manifold ages of the clan, binding all that is past with all that is yet to come. ~ Stephen R. Lawhead

Like a tent she had an open slit and she was sick of men trying to build lamps inside her. If a lamp was to be built, no one could see the naked wick. ~ Erin Emily Ann Vance

Whilst passing by the lane where the nests of concubines rested, I saw a little temple.
Somebody lit the lamp in prayer. I couldn't decide to bow down to the temple or not to stop there and walk away.

Never heard if odalisques have gods too... if yes,are they as pure as ours? ~ Himmilicious

The glorious lamp of heaven, the radiant sun, Is Nature's eye. ~ John Dryden

Genius without religion is only a lamp on the outer gate of a palace; it may serve to cast a gleam of light on those that are without, while the inhabitant sits in darkness. ~ Hannah More