Dark Cherry Quotes

How do you fancy making some dark cherry ganache with me, and we can fill these little yuzu shells with that instead? They can be a temporary special: a macaron de saison." I scrape the offending basil mixture into the bin.
"Whatever you want." Her brightening eyes betray her.
"That's the enthusiasm I was looking for," I reply, smiling. "What shall we call them then? It has to be French."
We surrender to a thoughtful silence. Outside the cicadas are playing their noisy summer symphony. I imagine them boldly serenading one another from old tires, forgotten woodpiles, discarded plastic noodle bowls.
"Something about summer..." she mumbles.
After conferring with my worn, flour-dusted French-English dictionary, we agree on 'Brise d'Ete. ~ Hannah Tunnicliffe

I pulled the blanket around my shoulders. The sky was dark and vast and empty and not even a plane disturbed that sullen stillness, not even a star. The emptiness above was now mine within. It was a part of me, like a freckle, like a bruise. Like a middle name now one acknowledged. ~ Sarah Winman

Whose sleeve do I have to grip, to tell my story to? It used to be Bet. Now, sleeveless. And I am sure I gripped her sleeve many a time too many. In my own parlance, 'feasting' on her energy, and giving nothing back. Well, maybe. We had most excellent days. We were the king and queen of coffee in the morning, in the dark of winter, in the early morning sun of summer that came right in our windows, right in, to wake us. Ah, yes, small matters. Small matters, that we call sanity, or the cloth that makes sanity. Talking to her in those times made - no, God preserve me from sentimentality. Those days are over. Now we are two foreign countries and we simply have our embassies in the same house. Relations are friendly but strictly diplomatic. There is an underlying sense of rumour, of judgement, of memory, like two peoples that have once committed grave crimes against each other, but in another generation. We are a statelet of the Baltics. Except, blast her, she has never done anything to me. It is atrocity all one way. ~ Sebastian Barry

We must not close with Christ because we feel Him, but because God lias said it, and we must take God's word even in the dark. ~ Robert Murray M'Cheyne

The only sensible way to live in this world is without rules! ~ Heath Ledger

Is power like the vis viva and the quantite d'avancement? That is, is it conserved by the universe, or is it like shares of a stock, which may have great value one day, and be worthless the next? If power is like stock shares, then it follows that the immense sum thereof lately lost by B[olingbroke] has vanished like shadows in sunlight. For no matter how much wealth is lost in stock crashes, it never seems to turn up, but if power is conserved, then B's must have gone somewhere. Where is it? Some say 'twas scooped up by my Lord R, who hid it under a rock, lest my Lord M come from across the sea and snatch it away. My friends among the Whigs say that any power lost by a Tory is infallibly and insensibly distributed among all the people, but no matter how assiduously I search the lower rooms of the clink for B's lost power, I cannot seem to find any there, which explodes that argument, for there are assuredly very many people in those dark salons. I propose a novel theory of power, which is inspired by . . . the engine for raising water by fire. As a mill makes flour, a loom makes cloth and a forge makes steel, so we are assured this engine shall make power. If the backers of this device speak truly, and I have no reason to deprecate their honesty, it proves that power is not a conserved quantity, for of such quantities, it is never possible to make more. The amount of power in the world, it follows, is ever increasing, and the rate of increase grows ever faster as more of the ~ Neal Stephenson

I slept all day, face down in the pillow, a comfortable dead-man's float only remotely disturbed by a chill undertow of reality - talk, footsteps, slamming doors - which threaded fitfully through the dark, blood-warm waters of dream. ~ Donna Tartt

THE OPENING OF EYES After R. S. Thomas That day I saw beneath dark clouds, the passing light over the water and I heard the voice of the world speak out, I knew then, as I had before, life is no passing memory of what has been nor the remaining pages in a great book waiting to be read. It is the opening of eyes long closed. It is the vision of far off things seen for the silence they hold. It is the heart after years of secret conversing, speaking out loud in the clear air. It is Moses in the desert fallen to his knees before the lit bush. It is the man throwing away his shoes as if to enter heaven and finding himself astonished, opened at last, fallen in love with solid ground. ~ David Whyte

There is no suggestion box in the Psych Ward. ~ Emilie Autumn

Christopher Nolan's astounding third Batman feature, 'The Dark Knight Rises,' represents the true maturation of the superhero movie - and provides the key to understanding the bottomless craving moviegoers have for these films, 34 years after the Christopher Reeve Superman gave birth to the genre. ~ John Podhoretz

Good news arrives with TV cameras and big, brightly painted vans. Bad news arrives quietly, in dark sedans with black windows. ~ Delilah S. Dawson

I stared into his eyes and waited his response. Neither one of us moved. Dear God, Lila and Natalie were right. He was hot. How could i have missed a body built like this? His unzipped jacket exposed hit t-shirt, so tight i could see the curve of his muscles. And those dark brown eyes ... ~ Katie McGarry

Apologies; our cultural obsession with them isn't about actually being offended, or simply needing to hear, "I'm sorry." It's not really about right or wrong. It's about wanting to throw a rock in the dark and hear something break. ~ Jim Norton

Black as an 8 year old kid all the way til we were 18 was beaten in the place that was supposed to be "home". He never complained or fought to stop it because it somehow... made things better for the rest of his family. I can never understand his tolerance to all that he's been through. He keeps trying and fighting without realising it himself when he opened up to me when I put myself in his shoes... and actually felt what he was feeling, I almost became scarred forever because of it. And even then he was the one who pulled me back from that dark place. I can say the best thing there is to say I am able to make him see things from a different point of voice but he's always been the one... that makes us smile in the end. He's been this strong at heart for both of us for so long. ~ Dee Juusan

Far clouds of feathery gold, Shaded with deepest purple, gleam Like islands on a dark blue sea. ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley

Religion is perhaps most helpfully conceived of as the question of what tales and traditions our lives embody. ~ David Dark

She closed her heart
As tight as Noah's ark
So nothing could get in or out
I forgot where we begin
So she let it all end
And left our love alone in the dark ~ Eric Overby

Old age doth in sharp pains abound; We are belabored by the gout, Our blindness is a dark profound, Our deafness each one laughs about. Then reason's light with falling ray Doth but a trembling flicker cast. Honor to age, ye children pay! Alas! my fifty years are past! ~ Pierre-Jean De Beranger

Dude. Whoa."
I looked up to find Miles staring at me openmouthed in astonishment. Around him was a crowd of Vanaheim warriors. A few shifted and murmured uneasily.
The dark-haired girl in the bikini top moved forward. "They're . . . dead." A tear traced down her cheek.
It occurred to me then that while she, Miles, and the rest of Freya's chosen were technically warriors, they might never have seen an actual battle, let alone been in one.
"Well, yes, they're dead," I said carefully. "But if they'd succeeded in charbroiling and eating me, then I'd be dead. For good."
The girl looked at me blankly.
"Because I'm an einherji."
The girl still looked puzzled.
"If I die outside Valhalla, I stay dead. Unlike the dragons who, being mythical creatures, will vanish into Ginnungagap and eventually be reborn."
The girl's face cleared. "The dragons will be reborn?" She grabbed her friend's hands and started jumping up and down and squealing. "We'll have baby dragons here soon. Soooo cute!" She beamed at me. "Thank you so much for killing them! ~ Rick Riordan

Some monsters disguise themselves so well you don't realize that they're monsters until it's too late. You check all of the usual places: under the bed, in the closet, behind the shower curtain, around that suspicious, dark corner of your room. No, some monsters don't look like monsters at all. But they are, have been, and always will be there. ~ Nikki Rae

No one can save a person from his or her thoughts and deeds except oneself. We can reach for particles of light to escape our dark chambers or continue to live with an inky soul. We make the choices that become our destiny. ~ Kilroy J. Oldster

I still love Emma more than I ever thought was possible. I love her more every day, and more every time I try to stop. I love her like I'm being ripped in half. ~ Cassandra Clare

My sorrow, when she's here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be. ~ Robert Frost

Socrates: Yes mercy and grace are all linked with Love. Let your tears of gratitude wash away the dark dirt of ignorance obscuring your own dear Self which is Love.
Charmides: So Love has nothing to do with lust then?
Socrates: No! Lust is from the selfish false sense of a 'me' desperate for some pleasurable, momentary relief from its anguish and boredom. Love is refined, and her amorous advances are from the spirit, not the body. ~ Alan Jacobs

Surely, somewhere in the back of Bulfinch, in a part Lillian had not gotten to, there is an obscure (abstruse, arcane, shadowy, and even hidden) version of Proserpine in he Underworld in which a tired Jewish Ceres schleps through the outskirts of Tartarus, an ugly village of tired whores who must double as laundresses and barbers, a couple of saloons, a nearly empty five-and-dime, and people too poor to pull up stakes. In this version, Ceres looks all over town for her Proserpine, who crossed the River Cyane in a pretty sailboat with Pluto, having had the good sense to come to an understanding with the king early on. Pluto and Proserpine picnic in a charming park, twinkling lights overhead and handsome wide benches like the ones in Central Park. When Ceres comes, tripping a little on her hem as she walks through the soft grass, muttering and trying to yank Proserpine to her feet so they can start the long trip home to Enna and daylight (which has lost much of its luster, now that Proserpine is queen of all she surveys), the girl does not jump up at the sight of her mother, but takes her time handing out the sandwiches and pours cups of sweetened tea for the three of them. She lays a nicely ironed napkin in her lap and another in the lap of her new husband, the king. Proserpine does not eat the pomegranate seeds by mistake, or in a moment of desperate hunger, or fright, or misunderstanding. She takes the pomegranate slice out of her husband's dark and glittering hand and pulls ~ Amy Bloom

So Captain Jack's come a-courtin'." Her hands stilled on the basket. "Who?" "The tall Shawnee who come by your cabin." The tall one. Lael felt a small surge of triumph at learning his name. Captain Jack. Oddly, she felt no embarrassment. Lifting her shoulders in a slight shrug, she continued pulling the vines into a tight circle. "He come by, but I don't know why." "Best take a long look in the mirror, then." Lael's eyes roamed the dark walls. Ma Horn didn't own one. "Beads and a blanket, was it?" She nodded and looked back down. "I still can't figure out why some Shawnee would pay any mind to a white girl like me." Ma Horn chuckled, her face alight in the dimness. "Why, Captain Jack's as white as you are." "What?" she blurted, eyes wide as a child's. Ma Horn's smile turned sober. "He's no Indian, Shawnee or otherwise, so your pa says. He was took as a child from some-wheres in North Carolina. All he can remember of his past life is his white name - Jack. ~ Laura Frantz

You never heard me tell you that I want everything, not just the perfect pieces, not just the sparkling, charming snapshots of you. You never let me tell you that I want every piece of you, even the broken ones, even the dark places where scary things hide. ~ Amy Reed

A brave girl! And a unique one. The best that I have ever met in my life. ~ Olga Goa

She nodded, wondering why couldn't she have been named Mary. Or Sue.
But no, she had to be nine-letter Elizabeth. ~ J.R. Ward

You're the reason people believe in tomorrow. You're the voice that scares the shadows away. You're the love that makes me breathe. So for the next few seconds, I'm going to be selfish. I'm going to say things that I don't want you to listen to. Don't go. Stay with me forever. Please, Ashlyn. Let me be your everything. Make me your golden. Don't. Go. ~ Brittainy C. Cherry

I don't think that TV on the Radio is some dark mysterious band that no one can know about. We write music because it's an immediate form of communication. We're able to put on record what's happening in our times, and we want that message to be heard by the most amount of people. ~ Dave Sitek

We know even less about dark energy. It seems to spread out perfectly evenly, with the same density everywhere and everywhen, as if it were an intrinsic property of space-time. Unlike any conventional kind of matter (even supersymmetric particles or axions), the dark energy exerts negative pressure. It tries to pull you apart! Fortunately, although dark energy supplies about 70% of the mass of the universe as a whole, its density is only about 7 X 10 ^-30 times the density of water, and its negative pressure cancels only about 7 X 10 ^-14 of normal atmospheric pressure-less than a part in a trillion. I don't know when we'll have clearer ideas about what the dark energy is. I'd guess not very soon. I hope I'm wrong. ~ Frank Wilczek

Some people just make me feel mentally endangered. Whatever dark stuff is going on in their head, it's coming at me and I need to escape. ~ Heidi Julavits

You were the light in my dark world that gave me a path different from the one set by my father. I'll never forget that, and I'll always love you. ~ Elizabeth Isaacs