Knells Ridge Quotes

Cold air rises from the ground as the sun goes down. The eye-burning clarity of the light intensifies. The southern rim of the sky glows to a deeper blue, to pale violet, to purple, then thins to grey. Slowly the wind falls, and the still air begins to freeze. The solid eastern ridge is black; it has a bloom on it like the dust on the skin of a grape. The west flares briefly. The long, cold amber of the afterglow casts clear black lunar shadows. There is an animal mystery in the light that sets upon the fields like a frozen muscle that will flex and wake at sunrise. ~ J.A. Baker

Homeland Security Chief Tom Ridge made that critical leap from 'be afraid' to 'be very afraid,' raising the terrorist threat level to orange for financial sectors in New York, Washington, D.C., and northern New Jersey ... Ridge's announcement comes amidst reports he will step down as head of homeland security after the election. Ridge himself has refused to comment on the story, though colleagues say he has often expressed a desire to spend more time at home, scaring his family. ~ Jon Stewart

Ken Wharfe

Before Diana disappeared from sight, I called her on the radio. Her voice was bright and lively, and I knew instinctively that she was happy, and safe. I walked back to the car and drove slowly along the only road that runs adjacent to the bay, with heath land and then the sea to my left and the waters of Poole Harbour running up toward Wareham, a small market town, to my right. Within a matter of minutes, I was turning into the car park of the Bankes Arms, a fine old pub that overlooks the bay. I left the car and strolled down to the beach, where I sat on an old wall in the bright sunshine. The beach huts were locked, and there was no sign of life. To my right I could see the Old Harry Rocks--three tall pinnacles of chalk standing in the sea, all that remains, at the landward end, of a ridge that once ran due east to the Isle of Wight. Like the Princess, I, too, just wanted to carry on walking.
Suddenly, my radio crackled into life: "Ken, it's me--can you hear me?" I fumbled in the large pockets of my old jacket, grabbed the radio, and said, "Yes. How is it going?"
"Ken, this is amazing, I can't believe it," she said, sounding truly happy. Genuinely pleased for her, I hesitated before replying, but before I could speak she called again, this time with that characteristic mischievous giggle in her voice. "You never told me about the nudist colony!" she yelled, and laughed raucously over the radio. I laughed, too--although what I actually though ~ Larry King

When I was in high school, my uncle, who went to the races quite a bit, got me interested. Then when I went to college at Southern Illinois University, just a few hours from Louisville, we used to go to the Kentucky Derby, and I got to see Secretariat and Riva Ridge win. ~ Kenny Troutt

I don't think there's a city that has done more and sustained a higher level of security and protection than New York City, ~ Tom Ridge

The vivid memory of the woods had blossomed into a visceral longing for the Ridge, so immediate that I felt the ghost of my vanished house rise around me, a cold mountain wind thrumming past its walls, and thought that, if I reached down, I could feel Adso's soft gray fur under my fingers. I swallowed, hard. ~ Diana Gabaldon

Homeland Security Chief Tom Ridge raised security alert to a code red. Apparently Howard Dean has escaped. Did you see Dean's crazed speech the other night, yelling? I see why his wife won't campaign with him. In fact, Dean has a new slogan: 'Aaghhhh.' ~ Jay Leno

But life had shifted its weight from one point to another, from one leg to the other, like a silent giant in the vast shadows against the ridge, and I did not feel like the person I had been when this day began, and I did not even know if that was something to be sorry for. ~ Per Petterson

At first, I kept my eyes tightly shut, but then I dared. I dared to look.

Merciful God in heaven, grant that I am mistaken, that what I thought I saw was but the product of my shattered nerves. I would like to think it was a threatening cloud, a wisp of smoke or fog, or a vestige of darkness.

In the distance, close to a horizon which it obliterated in its entirety, a formidable mask leered. Its eyes were skimming the countryside, just as a nightmarish prowler would peer over the ridge of a wall. No, no, they must have been two aquamarine holes cut through the disappearing gloom in the east, and nothing more. What else could it have been? You know how clouds assume the most fantastic shapes... I shall always repeat that it cannot have been anything else. Indeed, I am certain a being of such magnitude would not allow itself to be glimpsed by terrestrial creature... Else it would continue to spy on us in the small hours, continue to peer at the insignificant insects we are, and its heavy tread would make the bottom of the ocean tremble. ~ Jean Ray

While I think it's very important that Marco Rubio and Senator [Ted] Cruz have contributed as senators ... there's no doubt in my mind that being a governor is far, far better preparation for the ultimate responsibility as president of the United States. ~ Tom Ridge

Interlaken

Get a running start. Catch
a good wind, he said: Be a good

bird. I thought him German
as his hand did the wave––tumult

of syllables, the ocean. A gust carried us
from the top of a ridge to where land

helixes hug vague bodies
of water, pebbled pastures

skimming treelines across the range
littered with wildflowers. Winds lilted:

It's not your day to go, as I watched
clouds blush vermillion, flying

in tandem as a crow does over
reservoirs and glacial gorges. That high

up, I thought maybe we could fall
in love, full of pomp and spectacle,

but he was a stranger, and to him, I was
strange; possibly ugly. Everyone

peddles timing––the random alchemy
of abutting molecules––though

I've grown weary of waiting. Stillness
is the danger. So I spread out

my arms, carved ciphers into ether
while a choir could be heard along

the nave where winding trails scissor
the basin. Spiraling downward,

I mouthed a new prayer, knelt in air
for deliverance, morphing into needle

of a compass, unbeholden to a place
inhospitable: the mind. The mind bent

on forgetting: I was blown wide open. ~ Su Hwang

But out under the Moon, Chestnut Ridge and Cheat behind them, and Monongahela to cross, into an Overture of meadow to the Horizon, low-lands become to them a dream whilst under a Spell, the way it gives back the Light, the way it withholds its Shadows, - who might not come to believe in an Eternal West? In a Momentum that bears all away? "Men are remov'd by it, and women, from where they were, - as if surrender'd to a great current of Westering. You will hear of gold cities, marble cities, men that fly, women that fight, fantastickal creatures never dream'd in Europe, - something always to take and draw you that way, ~ Thomas Pynchon

Noah's fingers lightly touched the long thick ridge below my left shoulder blade. His voice pitched low. "I'm sorry, baby."
"No one else knows, Noah. Not even Lila."
He kissed my back as he slid his hand over the scars on my arm. "You 're beautiful", he whispered against my skin. Noah lifted my arm and kept eye contact as his mouth trailed kisses along the scars. Pure hunger darkened those chocolate-brown eyes. "Kiss me. ~ Katie McGarry

Between the villages of Aubiere and Romagnat in the ancient Province of Auvergne there is an old road that comes suddenly over the top of a high hill. To stand south of this ridge looking up at the highway flowing over the skyline is to receive one of those irrefutable impressions from landscape which requires more than a philosopher to explain. In this case it is undoubtedly, for some reason, one of exalted expectation. ~ Hervey Allen

Yeats knew nothing about life: it was all symbols
& Wordsworthian egotism: Yeats on Cemetery Ridge
would not have been scared, like you & me,
he would have been, before the bullet that was his,
studying the movements of the birds,
said disappointed & amazed Henry. ~ John Berryman

The oaks along the ridge were writhing like tortured epileptics in the winds, and she could make out through the thick rain a cascade of water like a cataract come roiling down the inside slope toward her; a vast arching spray exploded bright against the dark sky as the Gulf slammed over the chenier. ~ Samuel Snoek-Brown

The sun had reached the horizon, and the crickets slowed their chirping as the air began to cool. Sunset and sunrise, he thought, the edges of the day, were the only times you could see the sun move. It touched the top of the ridge and began to disappear. He reminded himself that it was the earth's rotation, that the sun itself only seemed to move, but what difference did that make? He felt he was watching time itself pass. The last bright quarter shrank to an eighth, a sixteenth, a point, and then nothing, the sun's dark negative lingering in his retina. ~ James A. McLaughlin

On the map of you, my fingers could always find the green hills, Wales. Cool waters and a shore of white chalk. The ancient part of you carved out of stone in a prayerful circle, sacrosanct. Your spine's a ridge I'd die climbing.

If I could spread it out on my desk, I'd find the corner of your mouth where it pinches with my fingers, and I'd smooth it away and you'd be marked with the names of saints like all the old maps. I get the nomenclature now- saints' names belong to miracles ~ Casey McQuiston

A dozen families had declared themselves before Jamie finished his conversation with Gerald Forbes, and rose himself. He handed me the baby, who was sleeping soundly in spite of all the racket around him, and bent to light a brand from our fire. The shouts came from far below, thin but audible on the clear autumn air. "The MacNeills of Barra are here!" "The Lachlans of Glen Linnhe are here!" And after a little, Jamie's voice, loud and strong on the dark air. "The Frasers of the Ridge are here!" There was a brief spatter of applause from those around me - whoops and yelps from the tenants who had come with us, just as there had been from the followers of the other heads of families. ~ Diana Gabaldon

Ridge: Better. I can't hear my own farts, so sometimes I'll forget that other people can hear them. ~ Colleen Hoover

Riding that ridge between reason and recklessness, stillness and speed, is the first, maybe the most important, thing I learned about motorcycles. ~ Lily Brooks-Dalton

I like rainbows.

We came back down to the meadow near the steaming terrace and sat in the river, just where one of the bigger hot streams poured into the cold water of the Ferris Fork. It is illegal – not to say suicidal – to bathe in any of the thermal features of the park. But when those features empty into the river, at what is called a hot pot, swimming and soaking are perfectly acceptable. So we were soaking off our long walk, talking about our favorite waterfalls, and discussing rainbows when it occurred to us that the moon was full. There wasn't a hint of foul weather. And if you had a clear sky and a waterfall facing in just the right direction…
Over the course of a couple of days we hked back down the canyon to the Boundary Creek Trail and followed it to Dunanda Falls, which is only about eight miles from the ranger station at the entrance to the park. Dunanda is a 150-foot-high plunge facing generally south, so that in the afternoons reliable rainbows dance over the rocks at its base. It is the archetype of all western waterfalls. Dunenda is an Indian name; in Shoshone it means "straight down," which is a pretty good description of the plunge.
...
…We had to walk three miles back toward the ranger station and our assigned campsite. We planned to set up our tents, eat, hang our food, and walk back to Dunanda Falls in the dark, using headlamps. We could be there by ten or eleven. At that time the full moon would clear the east ridge of the d ~ Tim Cahill

Let me cradle myself back Into the darkness Of the half shapes ... Of the cauled beginnings ... Let me stir the attar of unused air, Elusive ... ironically fragrant As a dead queen's kerchief ... Let me blow the dust from off you ... Resurrect your breath Lying limp as a fan In a dead queen's hand. ~ Lola Ridge

I want my life to be a celebration of slowness.

Walking through the sage from our front door, I am gradually drawn into the well-worn paths of deer. They lead me to Round Mountain and the bloodred side canyons below Castle Rock. Sometimes I see them, but often I don't. Deer are quiet creatures, who, when left to their own nature, move slowly. Their large black eyes absorb all shadows, especially the flash of predators. And their ears catch each word spoken. But today they walk ahead with their halting prance, one leg raised, then another, and allow me to follow them. I am learning how to not provoke fear and flight among deer. We move into a pink, sandy wash, their black-tipped tails like eagle feathers. I lose sight of them as they disappear around the bend.

On the top of the ridge I can see for miles.... Inside this erosional landscape where all colors eventually bleed into the river, it is hard to desire anything but time and space.

Time and space. In the desert there is space. Space is the twin sister of time. If we have open space then we have open time to breath, to dream, to dare, to play, to pray to move freely, so freely, in a world our minds have forgotten but our bodies remember. Time and space. This partnership is holy. In these redrock canyons, time creates space--an arch, an eye, this blue eye of sky. We remember why we love the desert; it is our tactile response to light, to silence, and to stillness.

Hand on stone -- ~ Terry Tempest Williams

there was a time when this home was her domain. Sometimes she felt proud of it, sometimes she felt tied to it, but whether it was a burden or a blessing, it was hers to keep. She'd known better than anyone what this house needed; lately it'd become one of the few aspects of her life she could control. there is no corner, no ridge along the steps or crack along the wall, that she doesn't know like her own body. the house may never have been the sanctuary she'd always dreamed of, but at least it carried no surprises. It was comfortable. ~ Natalia Sylvester

As for the common men apart, Who sweat to keep their common breath, And have no hour for books or art
What dreams have these to hide from death! ~ Lola Ridge

Furi's eyes roamed over Syn's muscular body, mapping each ridge and valley until his eyes landed on the thick, dripping cock jutting out proudly from a nest of dark pubic hair. Syn stroked himself a couple times, his head falling back as pleasure racked his body. Furi held out his arm, needing Syn's contact right now. Syn crawled up the bed like a panther stalking his prey. His dark eyes were full of hunger and just beneath that desire was a whole lot of love. "Syn. ~ A.E. Via

Sleep is light in nomad camps. The body, exhausted by space, grows warm, stretches out straight, recalls the length of the trip. The paths of the mountain ridges run like shivers along the spine. The velvet meadows burden and tickle the eyelids. Bedsores of the ravines hollow out the sides. Sleep immures you, bricks you up. Last thought: have to ride around some ridge... ~ Osip Mandelstam

I reassessed the map and my timing. I had to come up with a plan to get myself out of this mess, and fast.
I turned 90 degrees and started to climb back up onto the high ground that I had just come off. This was way off-route, I should be heading down, but I just knew that the high ground would be better than fighting a losing battle in the bog. I had done that before--and lost.
The wind was blowing hard now, down from the plateau, as if trying to deter me. I put my head down, ignored the shoulder straps that pulled and heaved against my lower neck muscles, and went for it. I had to take control.
I was refusing to fail Selection again in this godforsaken armpit of a place.
Once on the ridge, I started to run. And running anywhere in that moon grass, with the weight of a small person on your back, was a task. But I was on fire. I kept running. And I kept clawing back the time and miles.
I ran all the way into the last checkpoint and then collapsed. The DS looked at me strangely and chuckled to himself.
"Good effort," he commented, having watched me cover the last mile or so of rough ground. I had made it within time.
Demons dead. Adrenaline firing. ~ Bear Grylls

Society is a wave. The wave moves onward, but the water of which it is composed does not. The same particle does not rise from the valley to the ridge. Its unity is only phenomenal. The persons who make up a nation to-day, next year die, and their experience with them. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

I tilt my head and look at him. He's watching me, but I can't tell what his face is trying to convey. If I had to guess, I'd say he's thinking, Oh, hey, Sydney. Our mouths sure are close together. Let's do them a favor and close this gap.
His eyes drop to my mouth, and I'm incredibly impressed with my telepathic abilities. ~ Colleen Hoover

The World's New Age hath dawned. The sun is bright in heaven, for Balder hath returned. Earth rises a second time, from the deep sea; it rises clad with green verdure. The sound of falling waters fills the morning air. High soars the eagle; from the mountain ridge he espies the fish. . . . ~ Donald A. Mackenzie

Late at night, when she and Ferro had waited on the ridge or had ridden on horseback into the steep canyons to wait for a drop, she had watched the meteor showers. They would begin shortly after midnight and continue until two A. M. On those nights it seemed as if the sky had overtaken the earth and was closing over it, so that the volcanic rocks and soil themselves reflected light like the surface of the moon. At those moments she could not think of any other place on the earth that she would rather be. She thought about the old ones and Yoeme and how they watched the sky relentlessly, translating sudden bursts of light into lengthy messages concerning the future and the past. ~ Leslie Marmon Silko

Good and evil both increase at compound interest. That is why the little decisions you and I make every day are of such infinite importance. The smallest good act today is the capture of a strategic point from which, a few months later, you may be able to go on to victories you never dreamed of. An apparently trivial indulgence in lust or anger today is the loss of a ridge or railway line or bridgehead from which the enemy may launch an attack otherwise impossible. ~ C.S. Lewis

As we all know, the spine ridges of adult cats are highly poisonous. If you are coming to see a kitten that you have adopted, it is important that you check for the location and severity of the spine ridge before attempting any petting. Also, keep your hands away from their mouths. A few of them have developed their venom sacks. We lost two cat adopters already this month, so...let's just be careful people. ~ Joseph Fink

Once, when I was describing to a friend from Syracuse, New York, a place on the plains that I love, a ridge above a glacial moraine with a view of almost fifty miles, she asked, "But what is there to see?" The answer, of course, is nothing. Land, sky, and the ever-changing light. ~ Kathleen Norris

That's not who you are," Blythe said.
"Who am I?"
"My little wolf." She traced my jaw, the ridge of my knuckles. "All teeth and claws. Cunning, and fierce, and insatiable. ~ Leah Raeder

Don't be very frightened, Marilla. I was walking the ridge-pole and I fell off. I suspect I have sprained my ankle. But, Marilla, I might have broken my neck. Let us look on the bright side of things. ~ L.M. Montgomery

Evenings were peaceful, smoke settling in the quiet air to soften the dusk, lights twinkling on the ridge we would camp on tomorrow, clouds dimming the outline of our pass for the day after. Growing excitement lured my thoughts again and again to the West Ridge….
There was loneliness, too, as the sun set, but only rarely now did doubts return. Then I felt sinkingly as if my whole life lay behind me. Once on the mountain I knew (or trusted) that this would give way to total absorption with the task at hand. But at times I wondered if I had not come a long way only to find what I really sought was something I had left behind. ~ Thomas F. Hornbein

In the tradition of Black Hawk Down, Malcolm MacPherson vividly brings to life this harrowing story of courage, pathos, and war at its grittiest. For military history buffs, or those interested in the front lines of the war on terror, Roberts Ridge is a must read. ~ Jay Winik

There was a place in the Hills, on the first ridge in the Game Reserve, that I myself at the time when I thought that I was to live and die in Africa, had pointed out to Denys as my future burial-place. In the evening, while we sat and looked at the hills from my house, he remarked that then he would like to be buried there himself as well. Since then, sometimes when we drove out in the hills, Denys had said: Let us drive as far as our graves. ~ Isak Dinesen

Ridge: Our other roommate has an issue with alcohol, so we have to hide it from him.

Me: Is his issue that he hates it?

Ridge: His issue is that he doesn't like to pay for it himself and he drinks everyone else's. ~ Colleen Hoover

When you take the bull by the horns ... what happens is a toss-up. ~ William Pett Ridge