Pulsating Quotes

The night sky is filled brimful as a night sky can be, lit brightly as it is with clusters of planets and pulsating stars and marriages of galaxies, all of it within a wobble of dust and gas and debris unseen. There are the Dippers Little and Big tonight, a lovely Pleiades, and a throbbing red star out like a tiny heart. This is the stuff of which we are made, I say to Son, all that is of us above us. We stand together looking upward, our mouths hung open as if to swallow what's above down and into us. Looking out at the past in its far distance, where from there, he we are not. ~ Susan Froderberg

I call upon the deamhan and the sidhe ," Ruadan prayed. "To heal their son, flesh of their flesh, magic of their magic. So do I will it, so mote it be." I watched in terrified amazement as the whirling lights weaved into a heart. A real heart. The pulsating organ connected to the veins. Then the flesh sealed itself and within seconds, no wound existed at all. I stared at Patrick then looked at Ruadan, mouth gaping.
"Neat, huh?" he said. "I like the sparkling lights the best."
"That's it ?" I asked.
"Yep. ~ Michele Bardsley

God is not a static thing ... but a dynamic, pulsating activity, a life, almost a kind of drama. Almost, if you will not think me irreverent, a kind of dance. ~ C.S. Lewis

The soil is, as a matter of fact, full of live organisms. It is essential to conceive of it as something pulsating with life, not as a dead or inert mass. There could be no greater misconception than to regard the earth as dead: a handful of soil is teeming with life. The living fungi, bacteria, and protozoa, invisibly present in the soil complex, are known as the soil population. This population of millions and millions of minute existences, quite invisible to our eyes of course, pursue their own lives. They come into being, grow, work, and die: they sometimes fight each other, win victories, or perish; for they are divided into groups and families fitted to exist under all sorts of conditions. The state of a soil will change with the victories won or the losses sustained; and in one or other soil, or at one or other moment, different groups will predominate. ~ Albert Howard

Now now Ellindt, you know I love it when you beg." Chuckling silently, every jolt from my hold causes her hands pulsating pain, and I bend to speak intimately into her ear again, "But I love it more when you scream. ~ Poppet

The Hebrew word shalom is usually translated "peace," but our English word peace fails to capture its full meaning. Shalom refers not simply to an absence of fighting or conflict, or to a peace marked by rest and quiet. Shalom is not the peace one finds in a graveyard. Instead, it refers to a peace that grows out of harmony and right relationships. When men and women are in a right, God-intended relationship with him, each other, and the natural world, there will be order and harmony-even while there is a pulsating energy and dynamism. ~ Steve Monsma

No longer was light analogous to the discharge of a blunderbuss, but rather to the pulsating flight of birds. ~ Banesh Hoffmann

...his words - the gift of expression, the bewildering, the iluminating, the most exalted and the most contemptible, the pulsating stream of light or the deceitful flow from the heart of an impenetrable darkness. ~ Joseph Conrad

Growl, you live in a slime lair and maintain an identity as the mysterious overlord of an undersea city, you command a fleet of meat dreadnaughts with crews of humanoid whale people, and you're currently reclining in a pulsating mass of gelatinous goo that looks like it escaped from hell's own Jell-O mold
so excuse the fuck out of me if I question your motives. ~ Christopher Moore

The ocean drummed as loud as pulsating blood, eroding the sand, rushing the beach as if it had a point to prove. And like many things, it receded, was gone, and was replaced anew. ~ H.L. Sudler

I think God is a giant vibrator in the sky ... a pulsating force of incredible energy. ~ David Arquette

When you love a woman, what do you really love in her? It will be different with different people and it will be different at different times. If love really grows, this is the way: first you fall in love with the woman because her body is beautiful. That is the first available beauty - her face, her eyes, her proportion, her elegance, her dancing, pulsating energy. Her body is beautiful. That is the first approach. You fall in love.

Then after a few days you start going deeper into the woman. You start loving her heart. Now a far more beautiful revelation is coming to you. The body becomes secondary; the heart becomes primary. A new vision has arisen, a new peak. If you go on loving the woman, sooner or later you will find there are peaks beyond peaks, depths beyond depths. Then you start loving the soul of the woman. Then it is not only her heart - now that has become secondary. Now it is the very person, the very presence, the very radiance, the aliveness, that unknown phenomenon of her being - that she is. The body is very far away, the heart has also gone away - now the being is.

And then one day this particular woman's being becomes far away. Now you start loving womanhood in her, the femininity, the feminineness, that receptivity. Now she is not a particular woman at all, she simply reflects womanhood, a particular form of womanhood. Now it is no longer individual, it is becoming more and more universal. And one day that womanhood has also disappe ~ Osho

Gradually and mistily it became apparent that the Most Ancient One was holding something - some object clutched in the outflung folds of his robe as if for the sight, or what answered for sight, of the cloaked Companions. It was a large sphere or apparent sphere of some obscurely iridescent metal, and as the Guide put it forward a low, pervasive half-impression of sound began to rise and fall in intervals which seemed to be rhythmic even though they followed no rhythm of earth. There was a suggestion of chanting - or what human imagination might interpret as chanting. Presently the quasi-sphere began to grow luminous, and as it gleamed up into a cold, pulsating light of unassignable colour Carter saw that its flickerings conformed to the alien rhythm of the chant. Then all the mitred, sceptre-bearing Shapes on the pedestals commenced a slight, curious swaying in the same inexplicable rhythm, while nimbuses of unclassifiable light - resembling that of the quasi-sphere - played round their shrouded heads ~ H.P. Lovecraft

The revolution is like a vessel filled with the pulsating heartbeat of millions of working people. ~ Ernst Toller

She had been lying there, facedown in the water long before the tide had turned at 3.04 that morning. Her eyes were staring into the river, her blonde hair first fanning out, then drawing back under her head with the wash of the water, like a pulsating jellyfish. The belt of her raincoat was caught on the branches of an overhanging tree and she'd been hooked, destined to forever flap against the corner of the broken pier with outstretched arms. She wasn't going anywhere now; she was simply bobbing up and down with the rhythm of the water - and she hadn't blinked in a long while. ~ A.J. Waines

I walked into my bedroom, eyeing the mound of boxes and suitcases that sat by the door, and plopped down on my bed. Sleep eluded me that night. What if I just postponed my move to Chicago by, say, a month or so? Postponed, not canceled. A month surely wouldn't hurt, would it? By then, I reasoned, I'd surely have him out of my system; I'd surely have gotten my fill. A month would give me all the time I needed to wrap up this whole silly business.
I laughed out loud. Getting my fill of Marlboro Man? I couldn't go five minutes after he dropped me off at night before smelling my shirt, searching for more of his scent. How much worse would my affliction be a month from now? Shaking my head in frustration, I stood up, walked to my closet, and began removing more clothes from their hangers. I folded sweaters and jackets and pajamas with one thing pulsating through my mind: no man--least of all some country bumpkin--was going to derail my move to the big city. And as I folded and placed each item in the open cardboard boxes by my door, I tried with all my might to beat back destiny with both hands.
I had no idea how futile my efforts would be. ~ Ree Drummond

My breaths came fast as the mist trailed through my body, strengthening and healing, pulsating and throbbing. I held my hands out with my head to the sky, almost in benediction, as I let it fill me, save me. ~ Ketley Allison

It was humanoid in form but it was certainly not a person. Its big upside-down teardrop shaped head was covered in blood yet I could still see it pulsating as if there was a big heart stuck inside its forehead, next to the brain, aching to pop out. ~ Caspar Vega

Here am I, a little animal called a man--a bit of vitalized matter, one hundred and sixty-five pounds of meat and blood, nerve, sinew, bones, and brain,--all of it soft and tender, susceptible to hurt, fallible, and frail. I strike a light back-handed blow on the nose of an obstreperous horse, and a bone in my hand is broken. I put my head under the water for five minutes, and I am drowned. I fall twenty feet through the air, and I am smashed. I am a creature of temperature. A few degrees one way, and my fingers and ears and toes blacken and drop off. A few degrees the other way, and my skin blisters and shrivels away from the raw, quivering flesh. A few additional degrees either way, and the life and the light in me go out. A drop of poison injected into my body from a snake, and I cease to move--for ever I cease to move. A splinter of lead from a rifle enters my head, and I am wrapped around in the eternal blackness.

Fallible and frail, a bit of pulsating, jelly-like life--it is all I am. About me are the great natural forces--colossal menaces, Titans of destruction, unsentimental monsters that have less concern for me than I have for the grain of sand I crush under my foot. They have no concern at all for me. They do not know me. They are unconscious, unmerciful, and unmoral. They are the cyclones and tornadoes, lightning flashes and cloud-bursts, tide-rips and tidal waves, undertows and waterspouts, great whirls and sucks and eddies, earthquakes and volcanoes, ~ Jack London

And so Discovery drove on toward Saturn, as often as not pulsating with the cool music of the harpsichord, the frozen thoughts of a brain that had been dust for twice a hundred years. ~ Arthur C. Clarke

Anyway, it was big and I set up the trickiest structure. Accounts all over the world and money flying around like ... The right mix of drugs and Remy Martin. Like a big whirl of light and money, pulsating like it was alive, like one of those glowing jellyfish things deep in the ocean.
His voice softened and the distance that was always between Mickey and the world melted away as he spoke. I had the first glimpse into what passed for Mickey's soul: a love for illegal mathematics. ~ Dan Ahearn

In a world pulsating with so much information, the only information that you need is the stuff that will lead you straight to your own soul. Think of this: Most of the information that is fed to you, is motivated by the desire to earn money. Forget what the magazines say, what the forums say, what all the experts say. Your soul does not need to be spoon-fed with stuff it doesn't need. Your soul needs to be seen and found, and what leads you to that, is the only information that you need. ~ C. JoyBell C.

Life is everywhere. The earth is throbbing with it - it's like music. The plants, the creatures, the ones we see, the ones we don't see, it's like one, big, pulsating symphony. ~ Diane Frolov

The reality that we live in is pulsating with energy and governed by laws. Understanding the basic principles of these patterns enables us to attract the things into our lives which we need and want. ~ Michelle Carbotte

Looking around the tight confines of her first home on Mars, it suddenly seemed to her that the walls were moving
beating very lightly
a kind of standing wave of double vision, as if she were standing in the low morning light looking through a temporal stereopticon, which revealed all four dimensions at once with a pulsating, hallucinatory light. ~ Kim Stanley Robinson

I will say without reservations that from my point of view there can be no abstractions. Any shape or area that has not the pulsating concreteness of real flesh and bones, its vulnerability to pleasure or pain is nothing at all. Any picture that does not provide the environment in which the breath of life can be drawn does not interest me. ~ Mark Rothko

The evening was a string of miserable minutes strung together in tiny clusters. Three minutes for a man shot through the shoulder; Ellis put first a finger in the entry wound and then another in the exit and when his fingers touched, he decided the man was only lightly injured and didn't need a surgeon. Three minutes to set a broken wrist and splint it with a strip of cowhide and a piece of wood from a sycamore tree. Two minutes to tourniquet a leg, then extract a piece of wire deep in the meat of it. A minute to peek under a pink, saturated bandage several inches below a slender belly button; he saw thin, red water leaking from a hole and smelled urine, knew the ball had breached the bladder. It would either heal or it wouldn't, but nothing to do about it so he set the soul aside, a case not to be operated upon. He turned a man's head looking for the source of a trickle of blood and had ten terrible minutes trying to stop torrential bleeding from under his clavicle; frantic moments during which he could get neither a finger nor a clamp around the pulsating source. All bleeding stops eventually though, and the case did not violate the rule. He took two minutes to settle his own breathing, then four minutes sewing a torn scalp, and half a minute saying a prayer over a fat, cigar-shaped dead man. After awhile, he had the impression he wasn't seeing men, but parts - an exploded chest, a blood swolled thigh, a busted jaw with its teeth spat to the wind or swallowed.

I ~ Edison McDaniels

At our most elemental, we are not a chemical reaction, but an energetic charge. Human beings and all living things are a coalescence of energy in a field of energy connected to every other thing in the world. This pulsating energy field is the central engine of our being and our consciousness, the alpha and the omega of our existence. ~ Lynne McTaggart

The bar was pulsating with rock music and packed with partiers, all set to leave their inhibitions, and their sobriety, behind. ~ Kenneth Eade

This kiss will consummate a part of myself with him that is newly revealed - the living and breathing substance pulsating between both of us. ~ Renee Ericson

If, therefore, those called to office and leadership roles in the church remain content merely to organize and manage the internal affairs of the church, they are leaving a vacuum exactly where there ought to be vibrant, pulsating life. Of course Christian leaders need to be trained and equipped for management, for running of the organization. The church will not thrive by performing in a bumbling, amateur fashion and hoping that piety and goodwill will make up for incompetence. But how much more should a Christian minister be a serious professional when it comes to grappling with scripture and discovering how it enables him or her, in preaching, teaching, prayer, and pastoral work, to engage with the huge issues that confront us as a society and as individuals. If we are professional about other things, we ought to be ashamed not to be properly equipped both to study the Bible ouselves and to bring its ever-fresh word to others. ~ N. T. Wright

Imagine a ceaselessly renewed stream of loving light pulsating from the Source--that's you. ~ Mark LeClair DeGange

This was my attempt to deter cold callers: "There's no past, there's no future, just one pulsating present ... Please leave your message after the tone." ~ Bill Bailey

There's no way I'll be able to peacefully sleep with my cock throbbing so painfully. I carefully undo my belt and pants before sliding them to my ankles. With my foot, I kick them under the bed. I peel away my sweater and have it join my pants as well. Once I'm standing beside her in nothing but my boxers and socks, I stroke myself through my underwear. God, I fucking want her. I push my boxers down my thighs so that my heavy erection bobs out. When I take it in my grip, it's hot and pulsating. I'm dying to push into every single one of her holes. To draw out pleasure and pain from her. I want to own every part of her. Fisting my cock feverishly, I attempt to keep my grunts stifled. With each tug, I get closer and closer to release. ~ K. Webster

I have so many creative ideas pulsating in my brain that I don't know which one to start with. I have old projects that I began ten years ago haunting me. I have new ones whispering between the current projects. My brain is on overdrive and I don't know how to stop it. OHM!...OHM!...OHM! Yes, I need to look up to the higher power and listen for His guidance. He is the only one that can put me in the right direction. In the meantime, like Teena Maria says, "I've got to keep my irons in the fire. ~ Sandra Proto

Also, I've spent an entire week without reading any books or talking about them too loudly. I'm learning to work my apparat's screen, the colourful pulsating mosaic of it, the fact that it knows every last stinking detail about the world, whereas my books only know the minds of their authors. ~ Gary Shteyngart

Much though we like these panties," he says, tugging at the small material covering my pulsating sex, "they're only going to be in the way ... ~ Felicity Brandon

…she made a poem on it at once, the lines singing themselves through her consciousness without effort. With one side of her nature she liked writing prose best– with the other she liked writing poetry. This side was uppermost tonight and her very thoughts ran into rhyme. A great, pulsating star hung low in the sky over Indian Head. Emily gazed on it and recalled Teddy's old fancy of his previous existence on a star. The idea seized on her imagination and she spun a dream life, lived on some happy planet circling around that mighty, far-off sun. Then came the northern lights–drifts of pale fire over the sky– spears of light, as of empyrean armies– pale, elusive hosts retreating and advancing. Emily lay and watched them in rapture. Her soul was washed pure in that great bath of splendour…Such moments come rarely into any life, but when they do come they are inexpressibly wonderful– as if the finite were for a second infinity– as if humanity were for a space uplifted into divinity– as if all ugliness had vanished, leaving only flawless beauty. Oh–beauty–Emily shivered with the pure ecstasy of it. She loved it– it filled her being tonight as never before. She was afraid to move or breathe lest she break the current of beauty that was flowing through her…"Oh, God, make me worthy of it– oh, make me worthy of it," she prayed. Could she ever be worthy of such a message– could she dare try to carry some of the loveliness of that "dialogue divine" back to the everyday world of sordid m ~ L.M. Montgomery

You must make a choice," the Goddess said.

"Is that my only choice – to choose between men?" I asked. "I want what Mother had!"

"Your mother chose two men," she said with light laughter.

"No! She chose independence for her country. She chose power and freedom," I yelled.

Almost as if in response, a pulsating energy moved up from the ground into my bare feet. It thrummed up my body and radiated out in a bright light, first from my toes, then from my fingertips, then the top of my head.

"I choose power," I said. "I choose freedom. ~ Vicky Alvear Shecter

I thought about the cast of The Wizard of Oz on the yellow brick road and wondered which character I was. Perhaps the Tin Man, in search of a red, pulsating heart. Or at least someone to give it to. ~ Kate Rockland

The abandoned stars were hers for the many rich hours os sparkling winter nights, and, unattended, she took them in like lovers. She felt that she looked out, not up, into the spacious universe, she knew the names of every bright star and all the constellations, and (although she could not see them) she was familiar with the vast billowing nebulae in which one filament of a wild and shaken mane carried in its trail a hundred million worlds. In a delirium of comets, suns, and pulsating stars, she let her eyes fill with the humming, crackling, hissing light of the galaxy's edge, a perpetual twilight, a gray dawn in one of heaven's many galleries. ~ Mark Helprin

The multitude was a frothing octopus, pulsating anthropomorphically over the church steps. ~ Ondjaki

We fail to take responsibility, to act productively in the interest of ourselves and others. And in our attempts at a better life, we are often severely limited or thwarted by the immature and socially inept behavior of ourselves and others. There is a great fabric of relations, behaviors and emotions, reverberating with human and animal bliss and suffering, a web of intimate and formal relations, both direct and indirect. Nasty whirlwinds of feedback cycles blow through this great multidimensional web, pulsating with hurt and degradation. My lacking human development blocks your possible human development. My lack of understanding of you, your needs perspectives, hurts you in a million subtle ways. I become a bad lover, a bad colleague, a bad fellow citizen and human being. We are interconnected: You cannot get away from my hurt and wounds. They will follow you all of your life - I will be your daughter's abusive boyfriend, your belligerent neighbor from hell. And you will never grow wings because there will always be mean bosses, misunderstanding families and envious friends. And you will tell yourself that is how life must be. But it is not how life has to be. Once you begin to be able to see the social-psychological fabric of everyday life, it becomes increasingly apparent that the fabric is relatively easy to change, to develop. Metamodern politics aims to make everyone secure at the deepest psychological level, so that we can live authentically; a byproduct of which is ~ Hanzi Freinacht

My mind, a Venn diagram.
You, the overlap and the intersect;
a pulsating glimmer - omnipresent,
a lighthouse with its glowing breath.

You are the stone that skirts the river,
that skips along its crystal plane;
a surface skimmed by concentric shimmer,
and trembles with the touch of rain.

You are worlds that spin in orbit,
a star who rose and fell;
infinity summoned for audit -
a penny toss in the wishing well. ~ Lang Leav

I feel emotions well
Inside my heart
Pulsating in rhythm
Straining for expression
I reach for pen & paper
And I am set free
On a blank page ~ Collette O'Mahony

History provides many examples of democracy crushed by people who said to be the champion of "genuine democracy" and "the people's real meaning". The realization about this may lead us to a defence position that conceals that democracy is an extraordinarily demanding way of rule. It must constantly find new ways to revitalize, to reach out to people and make them active. Dictatorships offers a machinery of obedience, closed and externally well-oiled. Democracy is based on fairness, openness and pulsating life. Therefore it must constantly be won again. ~ Olof Palme

She could see lines choices made and choices left untouched intertwine his soul in a rich mesh of pulsating orbits. She could see the value of past intentions, the trials he had chosen to bear and the wisdom that lay concealed within the mortal body. She knew that if she spoke of this, he would not believe her. No one believes in the perfections of the soul. There always is a certain relativity to events that throws a shadow against the perfection within each one. Seeing perfection consistently becomes a forbidden luxury, or maybe a practical flaw. ~ Shradhdha. S

Then I lean back and take in the side of her, every speck of flesh, every freckle, every line of ink she has. So fucking gorgeous I can't stand it. I feel like I'm about to combust. I want her so badly that my body is throbbing, my veins pulsating with desire and need.
The need to be with her.
Forever.
And ever.
And ever.
And when I open my mouth to say it, this time it's different - this time it means more than the first time I said it, because I know I can say it and it'll be welcomed not feared.
"I love you too, Violet Hayes," I whisper then let my lips crash against her showing her with my mouth just how much I mean it.
God, do I fucking mean it. More than anything else in my life. ~ Jessica Sorensen

Each of the divine persons centers upon the others. None demands that the others revolve around him. Each voluntarily circles the other two, pouring love, delight, and adoration into them. Each person of the Trinity loves, adores, defers to, and rejoices in the others. That creates a dynamic, pulsating dance of joy and love. The early leaders of the Greek church had a word for this – perichoresis. Notice our word "choreography" within it. It means literally to "dance or flow around". ~ Timothy J. Keller

The essence of our profession is to give. What is it that we in the theater give? We give our body, voice, feelings, will, imagination - we give a form of pulsating art to life itself; we give it to our characters and we give it to our audiences. Nothing, absolutely nothing remains for us save the pleasure of having given pleasure. And yet it is only by this miraculous process that our love grows and our talent is fulfilled and replenished. ~ Michael Chekhov

He was responsible for my peaks and valleys, the pulsating waves and earth-shattering releases. It didn't matter if I was bound or not, whether we fucked or made love, he was in control. The reality was he was always in control. ~ Arika Stone

I believe, if there is some sort of higher power, the universe is it. Whenever religious people ask me where the universe came from, I tell them that it has always been here, and was never created. The Big Bang theory is based on the fact that the universe is expanding right now. And if you rewind the tape, the universe appears to be shrinking. If you rewind the tape far enough, eventually the universe must be just one singular point. Or so the theory goes. But what if the universe has not always been expanding? What if it's pulsating, and one pulse takes trillions of years, and right now the universe is inhaling, and before that, trillions of years ago, it was exhaling? ~ Oliver Gaspirtz

A jellyfish is little more than a pulsating bell, a tassel of trailing tentacles and a single digestive opening through which it both eats and excretes - as regrettable an example of economy of design as ever was. ~ Jeffrey Kluger

The first time my heart broke, I thought back to
the day in my childhood when a piece of glass went
through my finger after an ill-fated cartwheel.
I was eleven years old.
My mother and I were in our bathroom cleaning
up the wound. She dribbled peroxide onto the cut.
It fizzed and burned; I winced at the pain.
It needs to burn so you know it's healing,
she explained.
That small exchange during my adolescence helped
me learn to appreciate the pain pulsating from my
broken heart. In spite of the severity of my wound,
I knew the healing process had already begun. ~ Alicia Cook

What was that?" he asked. He didn't stop thrusting. He went right on rocking over every tender, pulsating inch of me.
"An orgasm," I said into the blankets. "Surely you've encountered more than your own, commando."
"If that was an orgasm, it was a pathetic one," he said, his arm snaking around my waist and hiking me up.
I looked over my shoulder at Will, horrified. "Did you just insult my orgasm?"
"Yes," he said, nodding. "Now get your little ass over here. You can do better."
Of course this asshole wasn't finished. "And what are you getting out of this?"
He bent me over the edge of the bed, my feet not even touching the ground as he moved in me. "If you have to ask," he grunted, "you've been doing it wrong. ~ Kate Canterbary

Daring to approach the brothers' tension-filled embrace, Livia touched one of Beckett's coiled arms. "Beckett." She waited until his furious face turned toward her mouth. "I still need you. Here. I can't wait for him without you. You promised. I'm not man enough. Remember?"
Livia held her breath.
"You've got your sister," he said quietly.
"Let go of him, Cole. Please." Livia nodded at the puzzle of arms, each with its own agenda.
Cole looked reluctant as he stepped away, keeping his body between Beckett and Chris.
"It has to be all of us. Don't ask me how I know, but I do. We all have to sit here and hope for the best. Pray for the best. Even with that pile of shit right there." Livia didn't have to point; they could all feel pulsating of the evil that was lodged in Chris.
"We have to think about Blake - getting fixed, getting healed, getting back to us. Adding murder to tonight is wrong. It's all wrong. You have to make a different choice. I trust you, Beckett. You can do this."
Livia's earnest words seemed to make Beckett want to curse. His face boiled red for a moment. Only Beckett could hear Livia's gentle breath that pleaded, "Please."
Rather than leaping to action, he rubbed his forehead and took in great gasps of air. Finally, he grabbed her head in a giant hug. "For you, Whitebread. Only for fucking you. ~ Debra Anastasia

A universal vision and a joint interest are steppingstones for full-blown empathy, and explicitly through empathy, we seize the pulsating assets of 'sharing,' sharing precious values with the others. ("Resilience") ~ Erik Pevernagie

The Void is a living void ... pulsating in endless rhythms of creation and destruction. The great Void does not exist as Void, it embraces all Being/non-Being ~ Frederick Franck

But for Soraya, words on a page were seductive, free, inviting everyone, without distinction. She could not help it when she found words written down, taking them in, following them as if they were moving and she was in a trance, tagging along. A book was something to hide, the thick enchantment of it, the shame, almost. When everyone was asleep, she would creep indoors, into stifling, badly lit rooms, with cockroaches clicking, to open a book at a page she had marked and step into its pulsating pool of words. ~ Leila Aboulela

If we make an effort to engage in conscious evolution of our awareness, we will realize that we are One with the cosmos at the very moment we realize we are One with the Earth. Earth simply provides us with a more concrete target for the path of our conscious evolution. You could call it a secret path to enlightenment, paved with only the best intentions.
Just as the Earth is the tiniest of the tiniest part of the universe, humanity is only a small segment of the life that populates her, despite our delusions of grandeur. A human being can elevate his or her consciousness enough to feel the Earth's entirety in his or her heart and to realize the Oneness that connects all of life in a web of live, pulsating energy. ~ Ilchi Lee

Trust me."
"I don't even know you," I say softly, adrenaline pulsating through my veins. He has led me to the precipice of a cliff, pushed me off, and now he's clasping my wrist. He can let go at any moment, and I will fall.
"Every day," he says lowly, "I hold a person's life in my hands. The circus is based one-hundred percent off trust. I give it all to someone, and they give it all to me. I'm asking you, right now, to trust me. ~ Krista Ritchie

Under a pulsating full moon, the gussied-up Billie Jean King National Tennis Center seems much softer and prettier at night, with the fountains bubbling and fans without tickets to the big stadium sitting in the plaza and watching a big screen. ~ George Vecsey

Griff entered the cave, sword in hand. He had no desire to frighten Astelle, but he had to be prepared for anything.
She jumped up from her fireside position with a small stifled scream at his entry, then continued to back fearfully towards the shadowed wall.
She was quite alone. Griff could sense no other presence – only hers, and the wonder of it. He sheathed his sword, and gazed upon his long-lost love.
Her hair had lost all trace of colour while still retaining the texture of youth, giving the appearance of white silk. There was a pulsating light of a blue-lilac shade which clung to the crown of her head, reflecting in the hair – a soul – a lost spirit – someone who had loved her. She was almost as pale as death, for Torking took far too much blood from her, too frequently. She was also much thinner than she should have been, but for all of this, she was still the most beautiful sight of his life.
Her body was ravaged with Torking's bites and claw-marks. She was still wearing his old cloak which Griff instantly recognised, though it was little more than a rag, wrapped around her body and tied on one shoulder. Her beautiful dark eyes, those which had so haunted his dreams, seemed over-large in her pale face, as she stared at him with a mingling of shock, disbelief and joy.
Griff took a few hesitant steps towards her, unsure of his reception. 'Astelle?' His voice grated with emotion.
How often had she yearned to hear him speak her name exactly ~ Bernie Morris

Imagine a pantomime directed by Quentin Tarantino, where villains are booed, heroes are blood-stained, the body-count is high, the entertainment pulsating, the language filthy and the audience screamed behind you' as tackles hurtled in like boulders crashing down a mountain-side. Such was the epic drama that gripped the Emirates yesterday. A derby crammed with sound, fury and significance ended with everyone grasping for breath, with Arsenal regaining the high ground of the Premier League ... This was the Premier League at its raw, mistake-filled, mesmerising best. Utterly compelling. ~ Henry Winter

The Penny Dreadfuls emerge,pulsating with excitement and energy,from ... the staff room. Okay. So it's not as glamorous as emerging from a backstage, but they do look GREAT.Well,two of them do.
The bassist is the same as always. Reggie used to come into work, mooching free tickets off Toph for the latest comic book movies. He has these long bangs that droop over half his face and cover his eyes,and I could never tell what he thought about anything. I'd be like, "How was the new Iron Man?" And he'd say, "Fine," in this bored voice. And because his eyes were hidden,I didn't know if he meant a good fine, or a so-so fine,or a bad fine. It was irritating. ~ Stephanie Perkins

The candle's flame washed her in a sensual bath of pulsating light, and Hans became entranced by the soft glow upon her skin. ~ Nicki Elson