Collene Grey Quotes

More wonderful than the lore of old men and the lore of books is the secret lore of the ocean. Blue, green, grey, white, or black; smooth, ruffled, or mountainous; that ocean is not silent. All my days I have watched it and listened to it, and I know it well. At first it told to me only the plain little tales of calm beaches and near ports, but with the years it grew more friendly and spoke of other things; of things more strange and more distant in space and time. ~ H.P. Lovecraft

They would set their course toward it, seeing it grow bigger silently and imperceptibly, a motionless growth
and then, when they were at it, when they were about to bang their noses with a shock against its seeming solid mass, the sun would dim. Wraiths of mist suddenly moving like serpents of the air would coil about them for a second. Grey damp would be around them, and the sun, a copper penny, would fade away. The wings next to their own wings would shade into vacancy, until each bird was a lonely sound in cold annihilation, a presence after uncreation. And there they would hang in chartless nothing, seemingly without speed or left or right or top or bottom, until as suddenly as ever the copper penny glowed and the serpents writhed. ~ T.H. White

You're like a grey sky. You're beautiful, even though you don't want to be. ~ Jasmine Warga

Is it thy will that I should wax and wane,
Barter my cloth of gold for hodden grey,
And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain
Whose brightest threads are each a wasted day? ~ Oscar Wilde

I've never wanted more, until I met you. - Christian Grey, Fifty Shades of Grey ~ E.L. James

Are you gay, Mr. Grey?"
He inhales sharply, and I cringe, mortified. Crap. Why didn't I employ some kind of filter before I read this straight out? How can I tell him I'm just reading the questions? Damn Kate and her curiosity!
"No Anastasia, I'm not." He raises his eyebrows, a cool gleam in his eyes. He does not look pleased. ~ E.L. James

A man who under the influence of mental pain or unbearably oppressive suffering sends a bullet through his own head is called a suicide; but for those who give freedom to their pitiful, soul-debasing passions in the holy days of spring and youth there is no name in man's vocabulary. After the bullet follows the peace of the grave: ruined youth is followed by years of grief and painful recollections. He who has profaned his spring will understand the present condition of my soul. I am not yet old, or grey, but I no longer live. Psychiaters tell us that a solider, who was wounded at Waterloo, went mad, and afterwards assured everybody - and believed it himself - that he had died at Waterloo, and that what was now considered to be him was only his shadow, a reflection of the past. I am now experiencing something resembling this semi-death.. ~ Anton Chekhov

You don't think in depression that you've put on a grey veil and are seeing the world through the haze of a bad mood. You think that the veil has been taken away, the veil of happiness, and that now you're seeing truly. ~ Andrew Solomon

Patch's eyes were slate black, darker than a million secrets stacked on top of each other. He dropped his gaze to the ring in his hand, turning it over slowly.
"Swear you'll never stop loving me," I whispered.
Ever so slightly, he nodded. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

Besides" - Jasper smiled, teeth pearly white and predatory - "it'll be a cold day in hell when I complain about having a hot piece like you in my bed. ~ Melissa Grey

If you could only speak the devil fair enough, he might save you the cost of the doctor. Such strange lingering echoes of the old demon-worship might perhaps even now be caught by the diligent listener among the grey-haired peasantry; for the rude mind with difficulty associates the ideas of power and benignity. A shadowy conception of power that by much persuasion can be induced to refrain from inflicting harm, is the shape most easily taken by the sense of the Invisible in the minds of men who have always been pressed close by primitive wants, and to whom a life of hard toil has never been illuminated by any enthusiastic religious faith. To them pain and mishap present a far wider range of possibilities than gladness and enjoyment: their imagination is almost barren of the images that feed desire and hope, but is all overgrown by recollections that are a perpetual pasture to fear. ~ George Eliot

In the early grey of the morning they reached the headquarter of General Genarius and found him working in a mountain of paperwork. Joey and Maya informed the general in detail about Libertine's report. General Genarius closed his eyes and thought for a long moment until he said, "Wait a minute! Are you telling me that you want to enter the belly of darkness and liberate the mermaids and the unicorns?"
"Yes Sir, we are determined to attack the center of demonic powers and believe in the great opportunity to liberate the mermaids and the unicorns from the cruel grip of the Empire!" Maya said.
"Dangerous, dangerous…but the more I think about it, the more I can see that it could really work. However…this mission has to be well organized and of course…you must find the secret door to the Underworld… in time or you will be in big trouble. It is very risky but I will support this venture! Let me share with you some of my ideas and how this attempt could work. Take your six unicorns, all the equipment you need and leave the city of Selinka as soon as possible with Captain Goran and my assistant Captain Armstrong. You must cross the Thordis River behind the city, stay close to the Lagoon and move directly east from there. Let me take my map and show you exactly the way and… let me talk to Captain Armstrong. He is indeed a man with a strong arm, a clear mind in battle and he knows the way to Duanes Gate very well because his family lives somewhere in that area. ~ Gloria Maradonia

They got rid of bottled water. We got thermoses that say 'Grey's Anatomy Season 4' with our names on it. Cool. ~ Brooke Smith

IT'S MY CHOICE
I get a gift every morning, the gift of a new day,
It's up to me whether I make it bright, joyful or grey.
I can choose to be Happy, Successful and Content,
Or dishonor it with worry, anger or resent. ~ Maddy Malhotra

Hollywood producers aren't going to say, 'Get me that swearing, grey-haired, headless chicken. We need him for our new 'High School Musical' movie!' ~ Peter Capaldi

Rites–of–passage stories…were cherished in pre–literate societies not only for their entertainment value, but also as mythic tools to prepare young men and women for life's ordeals. A wealth of such stories can be found marking each major transition in the human life cycle: puberty, marriage, childbirth, menopause, death. Other rites–of–passage, less predictable but equally transformative, include times of sudden change and calamity such as illness and injury, the loss of one's home, the death of a loved one, etc. These are the times when we wake, like Dante, to find ourselves in a deep, dark wood - an image that in Jungian psychology represents an inward journey. Rites–of–passage tales point to the hidden roads that lead out of the dark again - and remind us that at the end of the journey we're not the same person as when we started. Ascending from the Netherworld (that grey landscape of illness, grief, depression, or despair), we are 'twice–born' in our return to life, carrying seeds - new wisdom, ideas, creativity and fecundity of spirit. ~ Terri Windling

In the weak light of the lonely lamp, he held onto her, for a solid minute, his head buried in her neck as if he needed her. Just like the night in the hotel room when he pressed his forehead to hers and damn near liquefied her heart. ~ Kendall Grey

Jack Miller aimed his shotgun at the monster's grey-skinned head and pulled the trigger. Green sludge and bits of bone and flesh splattered through the air to land on the street, the gory aftermath releasing a noxious, sulfurous odor. ~ Danielle Monsch

I think, typically, sci-fi can be a little bit grey and thought provoking. Sometimes it leaves you pondering certain questions and things. ~ Michelle Monaghan

Jealousy is an unjust and stifling thing. ~ Zane Grey

I don't like to complain. ~ Jennifer Grey

The ochre-yellow linoleum floor hasn't been scrubbed for some time; splotches of dirt bloom on it like grey pressed flowers. ~ Margaret Atwood

Never drink when you are wretched without it, or you will be like the grey-faced gin-drinker in the slum; but drink when you would be happy without it, and you will be like the laughing peasant of Italy. ~ G.K. Chesterton

But I see you're not standing in a bleedin' shadow, Perks, nor have you done anything to change your bleedin' shape, you're silhouetted against the bleedin' light and your sabre's shining like a diamond in a chimney-sweep's bleedin' ear'ole! Explain!"
"It's because of the one C, sarge!" said Polly, still staring straight ahead.
"And that is?"
"Colour, sarge! I'm wearing bleedin' red and white in a bleedin' grey forest, sarge! ~ Terry Pratchett

You know I'm in love with you, right? ~ R.S. Grey

I'd love to collaborate with a writer, but I'm such a control freak, it might be difficult. ~ Mini Grey

Not so great in England at the moment; in an online poll we came last, we actually came bottom of European countries for quality of life, because of things like the weather, obviously, late retirement, poor holiday, poor public services, poor health service; it's basically just a kind of grey, godless wilderness, full of cold pies and broken dreams. ~ Bill Bailey

Honestly, I've never felt better in my life. It's like somebody flicked a switch and I've suddenly realized how crazy I'd been acting all those years. All that talk about interfacing with an ultra-dimensional Phoenix deity – it was absolutely insane. ~ Mark Millar

Dad wore a very smart suit, with a long black jacket and grey pinstripe trousers. He had a waistcoat too, black silk with gold embroidery. Dad never wore fancy clothes. It was hard work imagining him in anything but jeans or his suit for work, but it was his wedding after all and I wanted him to look wonderful. I ~ Jacqueline Wilson

Abigail,' he says. 'I thought it was you.'
'Hi!' I say loudly. 'Mark!'
'Who?' says Robert. Fuck, he doesn't know his real name. Why do I give everyone stupid nicknames?
'I almost don't recognise you out of your SKINNY JEANS,' I enunciate carefully. He's wearing grey flannel trousers and a pink T-Shirt with leather Converses. He speaks clothes exceptionally confidently for a straight man. I wonder if he'd take me shopping.
'Oh, right. Got it.'
'That's odd,' says Skinny Jeans. 'Since I was wearing nothing at all when you left my room without saying goodbye . . . let's see, seven weeks ago?'
'Um, yes. Well, you know . . .' I trail off. Come on, Robert, I think desperately.
'I'm sorry, were you planning on making me breakfast in bed?' says Robert. Yes! Make a joke!
'I'm sorry, were you planning on making me breakfast in bed?' I say.
Skinny Jeans grins.
'Scrambled eggs? Toast? On a little tray?'
'Scrambled eggs? Toast? On a little tray with a rose on it?' I say.
'Don't fuck with my script,' says Robert, which makes me grin slightly more broadly ~ Gemma Burgess