Cold Plate Quotes

I was in shock. Funny how the world works. You don't get the something you really covet, but then the universe provides unexpected compensation. Here I thought you had to make a wish for it to come true. ~ Sarah Dessen

His manner had the offensive jauntiness of the man who has had a cold bath when he might just as easily have had a hot one. ~ P.G. Wodehouse

She spent the foggy day in endless, aimless walking, for it seemed to her that if she moved quickly enough she would escape the fear that hunted her. It was a vague and shadowy fear of something cruel and stupid that had caught her and would never let her go. She had always known that it was there - hidden under the more of less pleasant surface of things. Always. Ever since she was a child.
You could argue about hunger or cold or loneliness, but with that fear you couldn't argue. It went too deep. You were too mysteriously sure of its terror. You could only walk very fast and try to leave it behind you. ~ Jean Rhys

My aunt used to tell me that trust was like a plate. Once it was broken, it didn't matter how much glue you used to put it back together; it would never be the same. So here I am holding onto the broken fragments of our love - our marriage - trying not to cut myself with them. Some ~ Mia Asher

I can be in control of my own actions, despite what my track record might imply to the contrary, and suddenly, I just feel like, sure. I can hold my boyfriend-yeah-that's-right-world-boyfriend's hand wherever I want to, and not because I want to be all, 'Check it out, humanity, there's someone out there who'll hold my hand,' but because we're walking close enough that his arm is against mine and he's musing over the meaning of 'crunk' like he's sixty-five and somehow, by some mad glorious stroke of luck, he is mine to touch.

He looks down at our hands. Ever sensible, he's wearing gloves, nice leather ones. I left in a hurry, and I'm not exactly the most practical guy to begin with; I'm barehanded, and my fingers are cold. He tightens his grasp on my hand, smiles at me a little bit. I smile back. Beats pockets. ~ Hannah Johnson

Just when I despaired -- she was there, filling me as a melody fills a cottage. I was with her, running beside the Acis when we were a child. I knew the ancient villa moated by a dark lake, the view through the dusty windows of the belvedere, and the secret space in the odd angle between two rooms where we sat at noon to read by candlelight. I knew the life of the Autarch's court, where poison waited in a diamond cup. I learned what it was for one who had never seen a cell or felt a whip to be a prisoner of the torturers, what dying meant, and death.

I learned that I had been more to her than I had ever guessed, and at last fell into a sleep in which my dreams were all of her. Not memories merely -- memories I had possessed in plenty before. I held her poor, cold hands in mine, and I no longer wore the rags of an apprentice, nor the fuligin of a journeyman. We were one, naked and happy and clean, and we knew that she was no more and that I still lived, and we struggled against neither of those things, but with woven hair read from a single book and talked and sang of other matters. ~ Gene Wolfe

Cold hearts don't bleed. Still they pray for eternity, never seeing tomorrow. ~ Ja Rule

Of the two classes of Prussian officer, the bull-necked and the wasp-waisted, he belonged to the second. Monocled and effete in appearance, cold and distant in manner, he concentrated with such single-mindedness on his profession that when an aide, at the end of an all-night staff ride in East Prussia, pointed out to him the beauty of the river Pregel sparkling in the rising sun, the General gave a brief, hard look and replied, 'An unimportant obstacle. ~ Barbara W. Tuchman

like a blanket of hope, in your life may all the cold turn to warm...and may all the warmth become a glowing heat, and may all the glowing heat be a wrapped blessing of joy warming your heart ~ Bodhinku

The more he saw, the more he doubted. He watched men narrowly, and saw how, beneath the surface, courage was often rashness; and prudence, cowardice; generosity, a clever piece of calculation; justice, a wrong; delicacy, pusillanimity; honesty, a modus vivendi; and by some strange dispensation of fate, he must see that those who at heart were really honest, scrupulous, just, generous, prudent or brave were held cheaply by their fellow-men.
'What a cold-blooded jest!' said he to himself. 'It was not devised by a God.'
From that time forth he renounced a better world, and never uncovered himself when a Name was pronounced, and for him the carven saints in the churches became works of art ~ Honore De Balzac

Inquisition as such, that is, apart from methods and severity of results, has remained a live institution. The many dictatorships of the 20C have relied on it and in free countries it thrives ad hoc - Hunting down German sympathizers during the First World War, interning Japanese-Americans during the second, and pursuing Communist fellow-travelers during the Cold War. In the United States at the present time the workings of "political correctness" in universities and the speech police that punishes persons and corporations for words on certain topics quaintly called "sensitive" are manifestations of the permanent spirit of inquisition. ~ Jacques Barzun

I have come to terms with my life, and that is my affair - i am not cold, i swear, but i have decided certain things, it is best for me to ignore emotion; i have not been happy dealing with it. ~ William Goldman

I wonder how many people
I know are out there,
battling demons and leviathans
alone on this cold night.

How many people I know
who tell me they are fine,
and know how to expertly hide
the cry for help behind their eyes.

How many are just
a helping hand away
from a moment that could
better their entire life.

And how many will never ask,
instead ball up these terrible things
inside themselves thinking they
are all alone in their fight.

It is a sobering thought:
Everyone we love and know
and hate are all suffering
in some great or small way.

This is why we must
be swift with our kindness.
make greater efforts at compassion
when we ask someone if they are okay. ~ Nikita Gill

In Le Mans, despite increasingly cold days, Wilbur, having switched to wearing a black leather motorcycle jacket, was busy practicing takeoffs without the use of a catapult. He had decided to compete for the Michelin Cup, a prize newly established by the French tire company, and in the competition such launching devices were not allowed. On the day of the event, December 31, the last day of the year and Wilbur's last big event at Camp d'Auvours, in spite of rain and cold he was barely able to endure, he put on his most astonishing performance yet, flying longer and farther than anyone ever had - 2 hours, 20 minutes, and 23 and one fifth seconds during which he covered a distance of 77 miles. He won the Cup. ~ David McCullough

God's grace will cover us like a cloak-enough to provide for survival but too thin to keep out all the cold. ~ Neal A. Maxwell

Just because the snow is cold, It doesn't mean it won't melt. ~ Lai Lar

Keep your elbows in!" Sturmhond berated Mal. "Stop flapping them like some kind of chicken."
Mal let out a disturbingly convincing cluck.
Tamar raised a brow. "Your friend seems to be enjoying himself."
I shrugged. "Mal's always been like that. You could drop him in a camp full of Fjerdan assassins, and he'd come out carried on their shoulders. He just blooms wherever he's planted."
"And you?"
"I'm more of a weed," I said drily.
Tamar grinned. In combat, she was cold and silent fire, but when she wasn't fighting, her smiles came easily. "I like weeds," said said, pushing herself off from the railing and gathering her scattered lengths of rope. "They're survivors. ~ Leigh Bardugo

The cold cut like a many bladed knife ~ Israel Zangwill

When people talk about poetry as a project, they suggest that the road through a poem is a single line. When really the road through a poem is a series of lines, like a constellation, all interconnected. Poems take place in the realm of chance, where the self and the universal combine, where life exist. I can't suggest to you that going through a line that is more like a constellation than a road is easy - or that the blurring of the self and the universal doesn't shred a poet a little bit in the process. The terrain of a poem is unmapped (including the shapes of the trees along the constellation-road). A great poet knows never to expect sun or rain or cold or wind in the process of creating a poem. In a great poem all can come to the fore at once. It would be worse yet, if none are there at all. ~ Dorothea Lasky

You've been here before, Bell. Remember the stories you told me about wandering in the woods when you were a little girl? It scared the crap out of you, but you went out there all alone, knee-high to a bunny rabbit, and picked berries and climbed trees and found bird nests and came home all bug-bitten and mossy. And you loved every minute of it. It made you our beautiful Arctic Bell, impervious to cold and feared by mosquitoes. Aren't you glad you didn't stay by grandma's side, darning socks and baking gingerbread?
Who darns socks?
Girls nobody tells stories about. ~ Alexis M. Smith

Every night before bed, her mother had told her a story that should have been frightening: Scary Evil Queen. Huntsman ordered to cut out her heart. Lost in dark woods with grabby trees. Dwarves, dwarves, more dwarves. Old peddler lady giving her a strangling ribbon. Old peddler lady giving her a poisoned comb. Old peddler lady giving her a poisoned apple. Crunch. Gasp. Faint (beautifully). Dead sleep. Cold glass coffin. Empty dreams. Then ... kiss. Wake. Prince! Cheering dwarves. Huge choreographed dance number. Happily Ever After. ~ Shannon Hale

Do you fear the force of the wind,
The slash of the rain?
Go face them and fight them,
Be savage again.
Go hungry and cold like the wolf,
Go wade like the crane:
The palms of your hands will thicken,
The skin of your cheek will tan,
You'll grow ragged and weary and swarthy,
But you'll walk like a man! ~ Hamlin Garland

The flakes came down so thickly that from the sitting-room windows I could not see beyond the windmill - its frame looked dim and grey, unsubstantial like a shadow. The snow did not stop falling all day, or during the night that followed. The cold was not severe, but the storm was quiet and resistless. ~ Willa Cather

It's not fear of striking out that makes me reluctant to step up to the plate. It's the fear of getting hit in the head by a 90 mph fastball, the pitcher coming off of the mound to stomp me with her cleats while I am down, the rest of the opposing team rushing out of the dugout hurling insults as they kick me and spit on me, while all along the crowd in the stands is cheering them on and laughing at my failure. So, no, it's not the fear of striking out that keeps me from stepping up to the plate. ~ Jim Copeland

There is a cold war on the go. America and Russia are competing for the hearts and minds of Indians, Iraquies, Nigerians; scholarships to universities are among the inducements they offer. ~ J.M. Coetzee

That is how they are. That is how the Cold Peace has made them. Afraid of what is new and different, and filled with hatred like ice. She ~ Cassandra Clare

Strangely, an ancient ruin warms you while you feel cold looking at a modern building! Why? Because the past had a soul, it had an idealism; it had an aesthetics and a grace! ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

We'll beat you yet, you cold-blooded, censored son of a bowdlerized, unprintably expurgated deletion! ~ David R. Palmer

I sat staring up at a shelf in my workroom from which thirty-one books identically dressed in neat dark green leather stared back at me with a sort of cold hostility like children who resent their parents. Don't stare at us like that! they said. Don't blame us if we didn't turn out to be the perfection you expected. We didn't ask to be brought into the world. ~ Edna Ferber

I have known exile and a wild passion Of longing changing to a cold ache. King, beggar and fool , I have been all by turns, Knowing the body's sweetness, the mind 's treason ; Taliesin still, I show you a new world , risen, Stubborn with beauty , out of the heart 's need . ~ R.S. Thomas

What they held was already inside me, and together we could get away. And standing over the smoldering pile of paper and type, still warm the next cold morning, I understood that there was something else I could do. "Fuck it," I thought, "I can write my own. ~ Jeanette Winterson

THE THOUGHTS that rain their steady glow Like stars on life's cold sea, Which others know, or say they know - They never shone for me. Thoughts light, like gleams, my spirit's sky, 5 But they will not remain. They light me once, they hurry by, And never come again. ~ Matthew Arnold

Hell is cold. Do you remember when you told me that? We were in the cellars of the Dark House. Anyone else would have been panicking, but you were as calm as a governess, telling me Hell was covered in ice. If it is the fire of Heaven that takes you from me, what a cruel irony that would be. ~ Cassandra Clare

The hiss was now becoming a roar - the whole world was a vast moving screen of snow - but even now it said peace, it said remoteness, it said cold, it said sleep. ~ Conrad Aiken

I don't like to come home. Other houses have warmth in them, the lines between the people who live there humming with unspent energy ready to unreel. Conversations from the past still hover in the air, waiting for the threads to be picked up again. The air here is cold, empty to the point of sterility. When I hear my name it's shocking, a word that isn't spoken. Taboo. ~ Mindy McGinnis

Our human tragedy is that we are unable to comprehend our experience, it slips through our fingers, we can't hold on to it, and the more time passes, the harder it gets ... My father said that the natural world gave us explanations to compensate for the meanings we could not grasp. The slant of the cold sunlight on a winter pine, the music of water, an oar cutting the lake and the flight of birds, the mountains' nobility , the silence of the silence. We are given life but must accept that it is unattainable and rejoice in what can be held in the eye, the memory, the mind. ~ Salman Rushdie

The next morning was very cold. Benny did not want to get up at all. "No," he said, "it is so cold that I'm not going to get out of bed." Henry looked out at the ocean. "I have an idea," he said. "It's too cold outside today. Let's all stay inside and paint our birds." "Fine!" agreed Jessie. "I'll light the stove and we'll shut the barn door. It will soon be warm. ~ Gertrude Chandler Warner

Darian murdered them in cold blood. That's a crime punishable with life in the Terrorscape, where you experience the worst nightmares imaginable. ~ Shannon Duffy

Out here, in the cold, with the moon and the huge stars overhead and with kind, merry faces all round them, one couldn't quite believe in Underland. ~ C.S. Lewis

We should get these wet clothes off," I say conscious now of the cold.
A smile breaks over Colton's face. He raises an eyebrow. "Yeah? ~ Jessi Kirby