Cupid S Arrow Quotes

Falling in love can be likened to someone, falling from a high building. The possible result will be unconsciousness if not death. Take it that, anybody that falls in love is either unconscious or dead. ~ Michael Bassey Johnson

With a tug, I pulled Len off his knees, wrapped my arms around him, and
hugged him close. Behind his back, I flashed a middle finger of defiance I hoped
Cupid saw high up on Mount Olympus.

Fuck soul mates. Fuck Grayson. Fuck Cupid.

I was keeping the ring. ~ Jenn Windrow

Len's arm brushed against mine. I pulled the cream and gold comforter over
my shoulders and cuddled closer, wishing I could stay in bed all day and snuggle.
But Cupid's minions didn't get sick days or holidays or time off for good behavior.
Instead, I got a demanding boss, no pay, and chained to a man-whore till death do
us part.

I'd complain, but I didn't think Cupid's minions had a union. ~ Jenn Windrow

Will saw the first Senshi officer release and instantly knew where the arrow was aimed. 'They've spotted Shigeru!' He was about to turn and shove Shigeru to the ground, but as he did so, his eye caught a flicker of movement and he spun back.
When asked later about what he did next, he could never explain how he managed it. Nor could he ever repeat the feat. He acted totally from instinct, an unbelievable piece of coordination between hand and eye.
The Senshi arrow flashed downward, heading directly for Shigeru. Will flicked his bow at it, caught it and deflected it from its course. The arrowhead screeched on the hard, rocky ground and the arrow skittered away. Even Halt took a second to be impressed.
'My god!' he said. 'How did you do that? ~ John Flanagan

Every time we reach in to the cave of our loving heart and deliver an act of kindness, and touch another, we are truly sending a beautiful arrow of our love from our heart straight in to God's heart. When we purely serve another - whether it's someone hurting and confused, the cranky person at work, or the slightly strange elderly woman we help up the elevator - we are actually serving the beauty of God who lives within that person. In essence, we are magnificently surrendering to a higher and divine Love. My dear friends, lets be those beautiful instruments of that divine love. Lets open our wings and deliver small acts of everyday kindness, no matter how big or small. Remember, this divine love; is never wasted. It only flows out and becomes a great big ocean of oneness love for all ~ Angie Karan

Action exploded to his left, movement busting from the trees. The attack came from the north, charging from the slope and the tree line. Ahead of it was a solitary rider, a scout, racing flat out over the grass. The Regent's men were on them, and Laurent wasn't within a hundred miles of the battle. Laurent had never planned to come.
That was what the scout was screaming, right before an arrow took him in the back. ~ C.S. Pacat

Love is the most complex of all emotions. Hate is clean and uncomplicated, but love will turn you inside out and when it goes awry you're left wondering what you did wrong. You always blame yourself even though the only wrong you've done is to give your heart to someone who was not part of your plan. ~ Cupid

[S]urely the Cupid serving him was lefthanded, with a weak chin and no imagination. ~ Vladimir Nabokov

At some very low level, we all share certain fictions about time, and they testify to the continuity of what is called human nature, however conscious some, as against others, may become of the fictive quality of these fictions.

It seems to follow that we shall learn more concerning the sense-making paradigms, relative to time, from experimental psychologists than from scientists or philosophers, and more from St. Augustine than from Kant or Einstein because St. Augustine studies time as the soul's necessary self-extension before and after the critical moment upon which he reflects. We shall learn more from Piaget, from studies of such disorders as déjà vu, eidetic imagery, the Korsakoff syndrome, than from the learned investigators of time's arrow, or, on the other hand, from the mythic archetypes.

Let us take a very simple example, the ticking of a clock. We ask what it says: and we agree that it says tick-tock. By this fiction we humanize it, make it talk our language. Of course, it is we who provide the fictional difference between the two sounds; tick is our word for a physical beginning, tock our word for an end. We say they differ. What enables them to be different is a special kind of middle. We can perceive a duration only when it is organized. It can be shown by experiment that subjects who listen to rhythmic structures such as tick-tock, repeated identically, 'can reproduce the intervals within the structure accurately, but they cannot grasp s ~ Frank Kermode

Picture the arrow; nothing but the arrow. ~ S.R. Ford

I am dropping my keys on the table inside the door before I fully remember. There is no one to hear this news, nowhere to go with the unmade plan, the uncompleted thought. There is no one to agree, disagree, talk back. "I think I am beginning to understand why grief feels like suspense," C. S. Lewis wrote after the death of his wife. "It comes from the frustration of so many impulses that had become habitual. Thought after thought, feeling after feeling, action after action, had H. for their object. Now their target is gone. I keep on through habit fitting an arrow to the string, then I remember and have to lay the bow down. So many roads lead thought to H. I set out on one of them. But now there's an impassable frontierpost across it. So many roads once; now so many cul de sacs." We ~ Joan Didion

think I am beginning to understand why grief feels like suspense," C. S. Lewis wrote after the death of his wife. "It comes from the frustration of so many impulses that had become habitual. Thought after thought, feeling after feeling, action after action, had H. for their object. Now their target is gone. I keep on through habit fitting an arrow to the string, then I remember and have to lay the bow down. So many roads lead thought to H. I set out on one of them. But now there's an impassable fron-tierpost across it. So many roads once; now so many cul de sacs. ~ Joan Didion

Hatha Yoga teaches us to use the body as the bow, asana as the arrow, and the soul the target. ~ B.K.S. Iyengar

The teachers of the East say that every arrow that hits the bull's eye is the result of one hundred misses. ~ Robin S. Sharma

If the thing bites down much harder I might wig out and demand beer ... stay away from the phone, watch the red arrow ... this typewriter is keeping me on my rails, without it I'd be completely adrift and weird. ~ Hunter S. Thompson

The value of the myth is that it takes all the things we know and restores to them the rich significance which has been hidden by 'the veil of familiarity.' The child enjoys his cold meat, otherwise dull to him, by pretending it is buffalo, just killed with his own bow and arrow. And the child is wise. The real meat comes back to him more savory for having been dipped in a story…by putting bread, gold, horse, apple, or the very roads into a myth, we do not retreat from reality: we rediscover it. ~ C.S. Lewis

He knocked absurdly on the skull like a man impatient for a door to open. His eyes glazed over. He appeared to be in the grasp of something beyond the reach of ordinary mortals.
'Time is slowing,' he said in a leaden voice. 'Each moment grows and fattens like a drop of rain on a window sash, waiting to fall. ~ Norman Lock

When I thought I felt better, grief shot its silver tip arrow at my heart to remind me that it was still there."
Excerpt From: Holster, S.G. "Thirty Seconds to Die." iBooks.
This material may be protected by copyright.
Check out this book on the iBooks Store ~ S.G. Holster

There was no good name for this spot. Evie, who had shot like an arrow from school into life, who had never wavered, who had seen clear right from the start where she wanted to get to, had lately found herself more and more in the brambles. Somehow, here she was, no longer certain where she was going. Or even if she wanted to get there.

The jobs had been won, the beds made, the dishes washed, the children sprouted. The wheel had stopped, and now what? Where, for instance, was the story of a middle-aged orphan with the gray streak in her hair, the historian who had rustled thirteenth-century women's lives out of fugitive pages, who believed more than most that there was no such thing as the certainty of a plot in the story of a life, in fact who taught this to students year in and year our, and yet who found herself lately longing, above all else for just that? Longing, against reason, for some kind of clear direction, for the promise of a pattern. For this relief--she pulled against the shoulder strap of her satchel--the unbearable relief of an omniscient narrator.

Adolescence, she reflected, pushing open the classroom door with a kind of savage glee, had nothing on this. ~ Sarah Blake

They waited. Reiko let the silence and the sounds fill her. Having thought, I have acted, she thought. Let the arrow fly. In ~ S.M. Stirling

Some travelers are drawn forward by a goal lying before them in the way iron is drawn to the magnet. Others are driven on by a force lying behind them. In such a way the bowstring makes the arrow fly. ~ Isak Dinesen

Arrow! Black arrow! I have saved you to the last. You have never failed me and I have always recovered you. I had you from my father and he from of old. If ever you came from the forges of the true king under the Mountain, go now and speed well! ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

Suffice it to say I was compelled to create this group in order to find everyone who is, let's say, borrowing liberally from my INESTIMABLE FOLIO OF CANONICAL MASTERPIECES (sorry, I just do that sometimes), and get you all together. It's the least I could do.

I mean, seriously. Those soliloquies in Moby-Dick? Sooo Hamlet and/or Othello, with maybe a little Shylock thrown in. Everyone from Pip in Great Expectations to freakin' Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre mentions my plays, sometimes completely mangling my words in nineteenth-century middle-American dialect for humorous effect (thank you, Sir Clemens). Many people (cough Virginia Woolf cough) just quote me over and over again without attribution. I hear James Joyce even devoted a chapter of his giant novel to something called the "Hamlet theory," though do you have some sort of newfangled English? It looks like gobbledygook to me. The only people who don't seek me out are like Chaucer and Dante and those ancient Greeks. For whatever reason.

And then there are the titles. The Sound and the Fury? Mine. Infinite Jest? Mine. Proust, Nabokov, Steinbeck, and Agatha Christie all have titles that are me-inspired. Brave New World? Not just the title, but half the plot has to do with my work. Even Edgar Allan Poe named a character after my Tempest's Prospero (though, not surprisingly, things didn't turn out well for him!). I'm like the star to every wandering bark, the arrow of every compass, the buzzard to every haw ~ Sarah Schmelling

One fine moonlit night, Mortain and his Wild Hunt were riding through the countryside when they spied two maids more beautiful than any they had ever seen before. They were picking evening primrose, which only blooms in the moonlight.
"The two maids turned out to be Amourna and Arduinna, twin daughters of Dea Matrona. When Mortain saw the fair Amourna, he fell instantly in love, for she was not only beautiful but light of heart as well, and surely the god of death needs lightness in his world.
"But the two sisters could not be more different. Amourna was happy and giving, but her sister, Arduinna, was fierce, jealous, and suspicious, for such is the dual nature of love. Arduinna had a ferocious and protective nature and did not care for the way Mortain was looking at her beloved sister. To warn him, she drew her bow and let fly with one of her silver arrows. She never misses, and she didn't miss then. The arrow pierced Mortain's heart, but no one, not even a goddess, can kill the god of death.
"Mortain plucked the arrow from his chest and bowed to Arduinna. 'Thank you,' he said. 'For reminding me that love never comes without cost ~ R.L. LaFevers

This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy, this Senior Junior, giant dwarf ... Cupid. ~ William Shakespeare

When 'Hung' got canceled, I was available for pilot season, and 'Arrow' was the first thing I auditioned for. It wasn't the first script that came to me, but it was my first audition. ~ Stephen Amell

Next release Shooting the Arrow (3rd series of Getting To Know Anonymous) ~ Crissten Shadow

Your arrows may strike all things else, Apollo, but mine shall strike you. ~ Thomas Bulfinch

Her heart - it had been meant for her heart.
And he had taken that arrow for her.
The killing calm spread through her like hoarfrost. She'd kill them all. Slowly.
They reached the second bridge just as Aedion's barrage of arrows halted, his quiver no doubt emptied. She shoved Rowan onto the planks. "Run," she said.
"No - ".
"Run."
It was a voice that she'd never heard herself use - a queen's voice - that came out, along with the blind yank she made on the blood oath that bound them together.
His eyes flashed with fury, but his body moved as though she'd compelled him. He staggered across the bridge, just as
Aelin whirled, drawing Goldryn and ducking just as the Wing Leader's sword swiped for her head. ~ Sarah J. Maas

If a man paints a target on his chest, he should expect that sooner or later someone will loose an arrow on him. ~ George R R Martin

Time goes forward because energy itself is always moving from an available to an unavailable state. Our consciousness is continually recording the entropy change in the world around us. We watch our friends get old and die. We sit next to a fire and watch it's red-hot embers turn slowly into cold white ashes. We experience the world always changing around us, and that experience is the unfolding of the second law. It is the irreversible process of dissipation of energy in the world. What does it mean to say, 'The world is running out of time'? Simply this: we experience the passage of time by the succession of one event after another. And every time an event occurs anywhere in this world energy is expended and the overall entropy is increased. To say the world is running out of time then, to say the world is running out of usable energy. In the words of Sir Arthur Eddington, 'Entropy is time's arrow'. ~ Jeremy Rifkin

Do you want to sit down?" she asked Olianna, who lurked directly behind Luce with her arrow at the ready.
"I prefer to stand guard-"
"Yeah, I don't guess you can really sit guard," Luce mumbled. "Ha-ha. ~ Lauren Kate

Love can take what shape he pleases; and when once begun his fiery inroad in the soul, how vain the after knowledge which his presence gives! We weep or rave; but still he lives, and lives master and lord, amidst pride and tears and pain. ~ Bryan Procter

Great and terrible was the year of Our Lord 1918, of the Revolution the second. Its summer abundant with warmth and sun, its winter and snow, highest in its heaven stood two stars: the shepherds' star, eventide Venus; and Mars- quivering, red. But in days of blood and of peace the years fly like an arrow and the thick frost of a hoary white December, season of Christmas trees, Santa Claus, joy and glittering snow, overtook the young Turbins unawares. For the reigning head of the family, their adored mother, was no longer with them. ~ Mikhail Bulgakov

When I jerked it out the head remained in my leg, where it remains still. There were a couple of inches of blood on the shaft of the arrow when I pulled it out. ~ George Crook

I want to play Nightwing real bad. I worked with [Arrow creator] Greg Berlanti a while ago on a show called Everwood and jokingly I tweeted him saying, 'Hey, let me come play Nightwing for a couple episodes.' And somebody wrote an article about it, so I was like, let's make it happen, but I haven't heard anything about it yet. ~ Steven R. McQueen

She knew those horrid words were addressed to her. They felt like the icy tip of an arrow meant to conjure up destruction, coming from the most venomous abyss imaginable, rammed right into her chest with the utmost authority, entitlement, and pleasure. ~ Laura Gentile

Mon ami,' said Poirot with dignity, 'when I commit a murder it will not be with the arrow poison of the South American Indians. ~ Agatha Christie

My leg hurts," the soldier whined.
"Of course it does," Halt told him. "I put an arrow through it. Did you expect it not to hurt? ~ John Flanagan

He [Cupid] was Love [Eros] reborn. And as he was born after his parents coupled as Love-Birds, he was born with little fluttering wings. ~ Nicholas Chong

I was driving with Arrow the other day, and from the back seat she said, 'I wish we moved into that house we were going to move into.' A house we didn't move into because it was my boyfriend's house and we broke up. I said, 'I'm sorry honey. Why do you wish we'd moved in there?' And she said, 'Because if we moved in there, we'd find all the things we thought that we had lost. ~ Autumn De Wilde

Now I find that what life was making of me, what God was making of me, was not an arrow to trace a path through the sky, but the hub of a wheel. I am the intersection, I am the connection between them all, and the purpose I've been given isn't mine alone. It's for all of us to share. What I needed wasn't something I could take. What I needed was something I could give. ~ Lisa Samson

Love's heralds should be thoughts,
Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams,
Driving back shadows over louring hills:
Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love,
And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. ~ William Shakespeare

The aim of talk should be like the aim of a flying arrow
to hit the mark; but to this end there must be a mark to hit, that is, there must be a listener. ~ Charles Dickens