Castle In The Air Quotes

A sigh can shatter a castle in the air. ~ William Rounseville Alger

There are some people who can never see a little cloud of fantasy float across the horizon of their dreams without building a heavy castle in the air upon it, and bringing it to earth. ~ Stella Benson

Perhaps there was a secret door down low in the wall, a door only large enough for a child. If I stepped through that door, I would be in another world, in fairyland perhaps. It would be warm and bright there, and I would have a magical wand to protect myself. I'd ride on the back of a dragonfly, swooping through the forest. I'd battle dragons and talk to birds and have all kinds of grand adventures.
Later, I found that small door into fairyland could be conjured any time I needed it. The world beyond the door was different every time. Sometimes, I found a little stone house in the woods where I could live with just Nanette and my sister, Marie, and a tabby cat who purred by the fire. Sometimes, I lived in a castle in the air with a handsome prince who loved me. Other times, I was the prince myself, with a golden sword and a white charger. ~ Kate Forsyth

Sorry I gave you a fright." Howl seemed more used to holding babies than Sophie was. He rocked Morgan soothingly and stared at him. Morgan stared, rather balefullt, back. "My word, he's ugly" Howl said. "Chip off the old block" "Howl!" said Sophie. But she did not sound angry. ~ Diana Wynne Jones

The edifice of science not only requires material, but also a plan. Without the material, the plan alone is but a castle in the air-a mere possibility; whilst the material without a plan is but useless matter. ~ Dmitri Mendeleev

A neurotic is a man who builds a castle in the air. A psychotic is the man who lives in it. A psychiatrist is the man who collects the rent. ~ Jerome Lawrence

Idealism is like a castle in the air if it is not based on a solid foundation of social and political realism. ~ Claude McKay

The New Testament is an invaluable book, though I confess to having been slightly prejudiced against it in my very early days by the church and the Sabbath-school, so that it seemed, before I read it, to be the yellowest book in the catalogue. Yet I early escaped from their meshes. It is hard to get the commentaries out of one's head and taste its true flavor ... It would be a poor story to be prejudiced against the Life of Christ because the book has been edited by Christians. In fact, I love this book rarely, though it is a sort of castle in the air to me, which I am permitted to dream. ~ Henry David Thoreau

Life in the clouds sure feels unreal. A fantasy – a castle in the air, adrift from the ground, safe from the realities of life.

~Anastasia ~ E.L. James

I simply can't imagine the world will ever be normal again for us. I do talk about "after the war," but it's as if I'm talking about a castle in the air, something that can never come true. ~ Anne Frank

When the wind blows through a wood, its mass is cut and closed by every leaf, forming a train of jittery vortices in the air. ~ Alice Oswald

Like the air you breathe, abundance in all things is available to you. Your life will simply be as good as you allow it to be. ~ Esther Hicks

I open the gallery door, walk in with that sinking feeling I always have in galleries. It's the carpets that do it to me, the hush, the sanctimoniousness of it all: galleries are too much like churches, there's too much reverence, you feel there should be some genuflecting going on. Also I don't like it that this is where paintings end up, on these neutral-toned walls with the track lighting, sterilized, rendered safe and acceptable. It's as if somebody's been around spraying the paintings with air freshener, to kill the smell. The smell of blood on the wall. ~ Margaret Atwood

The man took a long drag off his Newport. "This helps,"he said, waving the cigarette in the air. He pulled out a small glassine bag from his pocket and placed it in Sonny's hand. "When that don't help, this do," he said. ~ Yaa Gyasi

The Light and the Darkness both flow in to Delhi. Gurgaon, where Mr. Ashok lived, is the bright, modern end of the city, and this place. Old Delhi is the other end. Full of things that the modern world forget all about rickshaws, old stone buildings and Muslims. On a Sunday, though, there is something more: if you keep pushing through the crowd that is always there, go past the men clearing the other men's ears by poking rusty metal rods into them, past the men selling small fish trapped in green bottles full of brine, past the cheap shoe market and the cheap shirt market, you come great secondhand book market Darya Ganj.
You may have heard of this market, sir, since it is one of the wonders of the world. Tens of thousands of dirty, rotting, blackened books on every subject- Technology, Medicine, Sexual Pleasure, Philosophy, Education, and Foreign Countries - heaped upon the pavement from Delhi Gate onwards all the way until you get to the market in front of the Red Fort. Some books are so old they crumble when you touch them; some have silverfish feasting on them- some look like they were retrieved from a flood, or from a fire. Most shops on the pavement are shuttered down; but the restaurants are still open, and the smell of fried food mingles with the smell of rotting paper. Rusting exhaust fans turn slowly in the ventilators of the restaurants like the wings of giant moths.
I went amid the books and sucked in the air; it was like oxygen after the stench of th ~ Aravind Adiga

The cats are asleep at the end of my bed and all around me, the thundery silence of L'Escarènere, caught at last in the rising flood of warm air, carrying the sand from the south. The Alps are folded above in the flickering light. And on the desk in the room beneath lies the writing which insists that the only escape is through the absolute destruction of everything you have ever known, loved, cared for, believed in, even the shell of yourself must be discarded with contempt; for freedom costs no less than everything, including your generosity, self-respect, integrity, tenderness - is that really what i wanted to say? It's what I have said. Worse still, I have pointed out the sheer creative joy of this ferocious destructiveness and the liberating wonder of violence. And these are dangerous messages for which I am no longer responsible. ~ Patricia Duncker

Actual physical repose isn't often the best cure for weariness: it's change of thought and occupation, particularly if the open air is a part of the cure. I've forgotten I have a care in the world. ~ Grace S. Richmond

Thick coils of smoke hung in the air, perhaps to avoid touching the walls. ~ Terry Pratchett

I was sitting in front of the hut and watching the ground darken and the sea grow a phosphorescent green. Not a soul was to be seen from one end of the beach to the other, not a sail, not a bird. Only the smell of the earth entered through the window.
I rose and held out my hand to the rain like a beggar. I suddenly felt like weeping. Some sorrow, not my own but deeper and more obscure, was rising from the damp earth: the panic which a peaceful grazing animal feels when, all at once, without have seen anything, it rears its head and scents in the air about it that it is trapped and cannot escape.
I wanted to utter a cry, knowing that it would relieve my feelings, but I was ashamed to.
The clouds were coming lower and lower. I looked through the window; my heart was gently palpitating.
What a voluptuous enjoyment of sorrow those hours of soft rain can produce in you! All bitter memories hidden in the depths of your mind come to the surface: separations from friends, women's smiles which have faded, hopes which have lost their wings like moths and of which only a grub remains – and that grub had crawled on to the leaf of my heart and eating it away. ~ Nikos Kazantzakis

Some time later he heard a scratching coming from the door. G shook his head, chalking the noise up to random castle creaks and groans, but then he heard it again. A distinct scratching sound.
He raised the candle, which only had an inch of light left, and walked cautiously to the door, just in time to see two beady little eyes peeking underneath. He barely had time to register the eyes when an entire furry body snaked its way inside his chamber, flat against the ground.
G yelped and stepped back. (He definitely did not scream like a little girl.) ~ Cynthia Hand

Sometimes I wonder," Merlin declared, licking a bit of mustard off his upper lip, "where exactly does the food come from? Is there a fourth dimension where a magic hat goes to fetch it? Or does it simply summon turkeys and bread out of thin air? In which case, what is this sandwich really made of? ~ Soman Chainani

There's about 260 rooms in the new castle which you go through, but it's all about the game play. ~ Don Bluth

She didn't realize she was staring at him until he turned to stare back. The air around them suddenly changed. She was so close she could smell him, a hint of cologne, and she could see the perspiration collected in the indentation at the base of his throat. His eyes went to her lips. Something warm and desperate filled her body. She'd never felt anything like it. It felt like the entire universe would cease to exist if something didn't happen right then. ~ Sarah Addison Allen

I whisper, "What do I need?"

"Release."

That one word scrapes across my nerves and lights me on fire.

His deep voice dances on the air, murmuring hotly, "You need someone who will take all of your thoughts and responsibilities away from you, who lets you be free to just feel."

Suddenly, his hands are on my waist and he's pulling me onto his lap and I'm straddling his thigh and his hands are in my hair and his lips are on mine…

And the world stops. ~ D.L. Hess

I don't speak, I float in the air wrapped in a sheet
I'm not a real person, I'm a ghost trapped in a beat ~ Eminem

The Valley Weeps

Weep softly o mother,
the walls have ears you know...
The streets are awash o mother!
I cannot go searching for him any more.

The streets are awash o mother
with blood and tears, pellets and screams.
that silently remain locked in the air,
while they lock us souless inside.

The guns are out o mother,
while our boys go armed with stones,
I cannot go looking for him o mother,
I have no courage to face what i will find.

They fill the air o mother,
The fragrance of plastic flowers
I will place them beside your grave
if i ever do survive,
flowers that have no soul.
and would never fade with time,

The sun shines glorious o mother
The water sparkles so fine
The buds are closed in terror
and birds have gone silent with fear
There is poison in our heaven o mother
I dread for what more is in store.

They came for him o mother,
yesterday as you slept inside,
He went marching o mother
with all the others beside.
I never told you o mother,
I do not know if he would ever return.
The streets are awash o mother!
I cannot go searching for him any more.

Weep softly o mother,
the walls have ears you know...
If your old blind eyes can see,
You will want to see again no more.

Our men have lost their spirit
Our women have lost their smile,
Our ~ Srividya Srinivasan

No more boys taking you on trips, you hear?" His voice was gravelly. "You can take your own self from now on. Last thing you need is some boy distracting you and making this whole situation even more complicated. Promise me you'll stay away from that son of Pharzuph."
I opened my mouth but the words stuck in my dry throat. How sweat beaded up on my forehead.
"I tried that once, John," Patti warned him. "It didn't work out so well for me."
"Have you seen the way he looks at her?" He focused on Patti, but pointed at me.
"Yes, and I've seen the way she looks at him. Truthfully, I think they need each other."
"Those two need each other like a bullet needs a target. Trust me. I've seen Nephilim kids killed for falling in love and letting it get in the way of their work."
"Well, you don't have to worry, because we're not in love," I chimed in. "He doesn't like me like that."
Dad puffed out a breath of air. "Well, he must feel something, 'cause he sure doesn't want that other kid near you."
"Is there someone else you're interested in?" Patti asked.
I rolled my colors back up, tucked them inside, and yanked the barrier back into place. Then I entertained the image of Kopano's sweet dimple for a brief second before pushing it away.
"I'm not ready to think about that," I answered.
My father tilted his head up to the ceiling and pressed his giant hands to his face, muffling his speech. "I'm way too old for this. ~ Wendy Higgins

Trees for which there is no commercial value are referred to as "weeds" that interfere with commercial harvesting. That's what alders were called until a method to make high-grade paper from them was developed, but you'd never know that alders play an important ecological role. They are the first trees to grow after an opening is cleared in a forest, and they fix nitrogen from the air to fertilize the soil for the later-growing, longer-lived, bigger tree species. Yew trees have tough wood with gnarled branches and were called weeds and burned until a powerful anti-cancer agent was found in their bark. ~ David Suzuki

This world is bursting with life for these few days because the song with which I called it into life still hangs in the air and rumbles in the ground. It will not be so for long. But I cannot tell that to this old sinner, and I cannot comfort him either; he has made himself unable to hear my voice. If I spoke to him, he would hear only growlings and roarings. Oh Adam's sons, how cleverly you defend yourselves against all that might do you good! But I will give him the only gift he is still able to receive. ~ C.S. Lewis

I am a huge supporter for cash for caulkers - which allows people to make improvement for energy efficient in their homes. We should do the same for Americans purchasing appliances and computers and for that matter, new air-conditioner and heating units. ~ Harold Ford, Jr.

When I was in the street throwing a beanbag with the other children and Mr. Tanaka happened to stroll out of the seafood company, I always stopped what I was doing to watch him.
I lay there on that slimy table while Mr. Tanaka examined my lip, pulling it down with his fingers and tipping my head this way and that. All at once he caught sight of my gray eyes, which were fixed on his face with such fascination, I couldn't pretend I hadn't been staring at him. He didn't give me a sneer, as if to say that I was an impudent girl, and he didn't look away as if it made no difference where I looked or what I thought. We stared at each other for a long moment-so long it gave me a chill even there in the muggy air of the seafood company.
"I know you," he said at last. "You're old Sakamoto's little girl."
Even as a child I could tell that Mr. Tanaka saw the world around him as it really was; he never wore the dazed look of my father. To me, he seemed to see the sap bleeding from the trunks of the pine trees, and the circle of brightness in the sky where the sun was smothered by clouds. He lived in the world that was visible, even if it didn't always please him to be there. I knew he noticed the trees, and the mud, and the children in the street, but I had no reason to believe he'd ever noticed me.
Perhaps this is why when he spoke to me, tears came stinging to my eyes. ~ Arthur Golden

I stretched out my hand, adrenaline and pain giving me plenty of fuel for the magic, and called, 'Ventas servitas!' Wind leapt out in a sudden spurt, seizing the Unraveling and tearing it from Aurora's fingers, sending it spinning through the air toward me. I caught it, stuck my tongue out at Aurora, yelled, 'Meep, meep!' and ran like hell. ~ Jim Butcher

People from the Porter Ranch neighborhood of Los Angeles are starting to return home today. A natural gas well leak in the neighborhood has been permanently sealed. It had been releasing methane and other pollutants into the air for four months. Thousands of people have complained of respiratory illnesses and other problems. ~ Ari Shapiro

I could not make the war seem real for myself. Even though I had heard about the Nazi bombing of cities in Spain, I couldn't imagine an air attack on unarmed civilians. Remember, there were still horses on the roads of rural Germany at that time. Very few people understood what modern war would be like. ~ Edith Hahn Beer

Kate knocked on his door and sucked in some air when he opened the door fresh from a shower. His hair was wet and he had a towel wrapped low on his hips.

"Jeez," Kate said, staring at the towel, her mind running amuck over what the towel was hiding, unable to drag her eyes to Nick's face.

"Is that a good jeez or a bad jeez?"

"It's just jeez. Don't you have a robe?"

"The room didn't come with a robe."

"Okay, so that's why you're wearing the towel. I can see that. Makes perfect sense."

A smile twitched at the corners of Nick's mouth. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"No! Gosh. Absolutely not." Kate stared at the towel. She was pretty sure she saw it move.

Nick tightened his grip on the towel. "Kate?"

"Yep?"

"You're staring."

"I know. I can't help myself."

"Cute," Nick said.

Kate squinched her eyes shut and wrinkled her nose. "Ugh! I hate being cute."

"Cute is good."

"It's not. I'm an FBI agent. There's no cute in the FBI. Cute is goofy."

"I'd grab you and kiss you, but I'd lose my towel, and I'm afraid you'd faint at the sight of me naked."

"I think I could handle it."

Nick dropped his towel ~ Janet Evanovich

It has sometimes been said that the success of the Origin proved "that the subject was in the air," or "that men's minds were prepared for it." I do not think that this is strictly true, for I occasionally sounded not a few naturalists, and never happened to come across a single one who seemed to doubt about the permanence of species. ~ Charles Darwin

Is that how he sees it? He knows how much his death will hurt us, so he must be under the impression that by staying alive he'll eventually hurt us even more. Maybe we should pretend we've stopped caring what he does. Say, "We've given up on you, Abel. You don't matter." Well, that would gratify him, our failling in line with what he has been telling us for months. How do we get around that? How do we persuade him that he's entitled to cause pain and, what's more, that he has a responsibility to bear the pain that he causes?

If only I could say, "You're worthy of your own life," and make him believe me. Too late. Too late. He seems completely enraptured now by the idea of no longer existing. I think he imagines the space he'll vacate, the actually physical space, and there we'll be, his parents and I, waving our hands around trying to find him, but at least we won't come up against any resistance. There won't be anything to collide with, only air. ~ Barbara Gowdy

You know that moment when you hug somebody, when your heart feels warm and high in your chest and tingly? When you feel just for a second like a baby in a womb ... that nothing matters? That's how I want you to feel. That's what a girlfriend should do, I think. ~ Jake Vander Ark

We already have the statistics for the future: the growth percentages of pollution, overpopulation, desertification. The future is already in place. ~ Gunter Grass

Once learnt, this business of cooking was to prove an ever growing burden. It scarcely bears thinking about, the time and labour that man and womankind has devoted to the preparation of dishes that are to melt and vanish in a moment like smoke or a dream, like a shadow, and as a post that hastes by, and the air closes behind them, afterwards no sign where they went is to be found. ~ Rose Macaulay

There was a hint in the air that the earth was hurrying on toward other weather; the lush midsummer moment outside of time was already over. ~ F Scott Fitzgerald

The wise may find in trifles light as atoms in the air, some useful lesson to enrich the mind. ~ John Godfrey Saxe

The world has changed. I see it in the water. I feel it in the Earth. I smell it in the air. Much that once was is lost, For none now live who remember it. ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

You're suspended sixty feet up in the air, you've been up there for three hours, and all the shot requires is that you have to sort of react to getting punched in the head. ~ Alfred Molina

Outside, overgrown grass lapped dew on Ronan's boots, and mist curled around the tyres of the charcoal BMW. The sky over Monmouth Manufacturing was the colour of a muddy lake. It was cold, but Ronan's gasoline heart was firing. He settled into the car, letting it become his skin. The night air was still coiled beneath the seats and lurking in the door pockets; he shivered as he tethered his raven to the seat belt fastener in the passenger seat. Not the fanciest setup, but effective for keeping a corvid from flapping around one's sports car. Chainsaw bit him, but not as hard as the early morning cold. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

That's how it is, Rocamadour: in Paris we're like fungus, we grow on the railings of staircases, in dark rooms with greasy smells, where people make love all the time and then fry some eggs and put on Vivaldi records, light cigarettes ... and outside there are all sorts of things, the windows open onto the air and it all begins with a sparrow or a gutter, it rains a lot here, rocamadour, much more than in the country, and things get rusty ... we don't have many clothes, we get along with so few, a good overcoat, some shoes to keep the rain out, we're very dirty, everybody is dirty and good-looking in Paris, Rocamadour, the beds smell of night and deep sleep, dust and books underneath. ~ Julio Cortazar

I have a massage when I want to relax. I love being pampered. I love island massages when you're outside in the fresh air. ~ Angie Stone

The thing is, work has simply swamped my whole existence. Slowly but surely it's robbed me of my mother, my wife, and everything that meant anything to me. It's like a germ planted in the skull that devours the brain, spreads to the trunk and the limbs, and destroys the entire body in time. No sooner am I out of bed in the morning than work clamps down on me and pins me to my desk before I've even had a breath of fresh air. It follows me to lunch and I find myself chewing over sentences as I'm chewing my food. It goes with me when I go out, eats out of my plate at dinner and shares my pillow in bed at night. It's so extremely merciless that once the process of creation is started, it's impossible for me to stop it, and it goes on growing and working even when I'm asleep. ... Outside that, nothing, nobody exists. ~ Emile Zola

ALL HE COULD SEE, IN EVERY DIRECTION, WAS WATER. It was June 23, 1943. Somewhere on the endless expanse of the Pacific Ocean, Army Air Forces bombardier and Olympic runner Louie Zamperini lay across a small raft, drifting westward. Slumped alongside him was a sergeant, one of his plane's gunners. On a separate raft, tethered to the first, lay another crewman, a gash zigzagging across his forehead. Their bodies, burned by the sun and stained yellow from the raft dye, had winnowed down to skeletons. Sharks glided in lazy loops around them, dragging their backs along the rafts, waiting. ~ Laura Hillenbrand

But I don't think building sand castles in the air is such a terrible thing to do, as long as you don't take ti too seriously. ~ Anne Frank

Hunger is an object.
The angel has climbed into my brain.
The angel doesn't think. He thinks straight.
He's never absent.
He knows my boundaries and he knows his direction.
He knows where I come from and he knows what he does to me.
He knew all this before he met me, and he knows my future.
He lingers in every capillary like quicksilver. First a sweetness in my throat. Then pressure on my stomach and chest. The fear is too much.
Everything has become lighter.
The hunger angel leans to one side as he walks with open eyes. He staggers around in small circles and balances on my breath-swing. He knows the homesickness in the brain and the blind alleys in the air.
The air angel leans to the other side as he walks with open hunger.
H whispers to himself and to me: where there is loading there can also be unloading. He is of the same flesh that he is deceiving. Will have deceived.
He knows about saved bread and cheek-bread and he sends out the white hare.
He says he's coming back but stays where he is.
When he comes, he comes with force.
It's utterly clear:
1 shovel load = 1 gram bread.
Hunger is an object. ~ Herta Muller

When the sunlight strikes raindrops in the air, they act like a prism and form a rainbow. The rainbow is a division of white light into many beautiful colors. These take the shape of a long round arch, with it's path high above, and it's two ends apparently beyond the horizon. There is, according to legend, a boiling pot of a gold at one end. People look, but no one ever finds it. When a man looks for something beyond his reach, his friends say he is looking for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. ~ Hayley Williams

[Love] feels . . ." I paused, turning the highlighter in my hand, "like an awakening of senses you never knew you had, and once they're awakened, you're never the same. The way you see the world is altered. Instead of riding down a road on your bike and thinking how the wind feels good on your face, you think, 'This is how it feels when he kisses my cheek.' You play a piece on the piano, and instead of imagining a crowd applauding, you only see him, sitting in the chair next to the piano, smiling at you. You catch the scent of sage in the air and think, 'This is how he smells.' But it's also kind of like being on a mousetrap ride. Exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time. You smile and laugh and feel a thrill inside of you, all the while wondering in the back of your mind if the car will come off the track at the next turn, or if your harness will come open and you will be tossed to the ground to your death. ~ Sarah Beard

It's easy to photograph light reflecting from a surface, the truly hard part is capturing the light in the air. ~ Walker Evans

I was thinking, The last thing I want to do is get in a wreck and lose another limb. I completely lost it and blew up at my father.
"Why did you do that? I can't get injured again! Pull over. I'll drive!" I screamed.
Dad is not the kind of person who would have ever taken that kind of behavior from me in the past, but I think he understood the paranoia. I'd asked him while I was in the hospital, "Did you ever think one of your kids would ever lose a limb?"
And he said, "No, it never crossed my mind. I was always more afraid I would lost another limb."
It wasn't until later that I realized how great it was of him that he kept his cool and understood where I was coming from. He just let me freak out and let me drive. I think in some ways it was the same kind of lesson he taught me as a child without ever saying a word. I watched him just get on with things with one arm. He never made a fuss about it. It was an example that growing up I didn't know I'd need eventually.
So I got in the driver's seat and we continued on our way. After a while we stopped at a gas station to stretch our legs and get some snacks. I grabbed a lemon-line Gatorade and Dad grabbed something to drink and we got back in the car. I turned the car on, so the air and the radio were going as I tried and tried to get my Gatorade bottle open, but the top was too big and I couldn't quite get my fingers to grab it, hold it, and twist it open. My finger strength just wasn't there yet. So I ~ Noah Galloway

If the juices of the body were more chymically examined, especially by a naturalist, that knows the ways of making fixed bodies volatile, and volatile fixed, and knows the power of the open air in promoting the former of those operations; it is not improbable, that both many things relating to the nature of the humours, and to the ways of sweetening, actuating, and otherwise altering them, may be detected, and the importance of such discoveries may be discerned. ~ Robert Boyle

The bomber will always get through. The only defense is in offense, which means that you have to kill more women and children more quickly that the enemy if you want to save yourselves. ~ Stanley Baldwin

High Air-castles are cunningly built of Words, the Words well bedded also in good Logic-mortar; wherein, however, no Knowledge will come to lodge. ~ Thomas Carlyle