Sg Lit Quotes

Pak Karman hugged his wife's gravestone tightly. "You left without saying farewell!" The whole of the graveyard was ablaze with light. ~ Mohamed Latiff Mohamed

Mongkol, poor Mongkol, shedding tears.

Thinking of his smiling, comical face, and his dreams of sending his son to university, I could only lower my head in silence.

And the night continued, cold and dark, the wind frozen beyond the mountains. ~ You Jin

I remember clearly the afternoon that she stood at the corner beside the door of the tourist centre in Gdansk. ~ You Jin

I'd thought there'd be no winter in the desert, but winter arrived anyway - silently, suddenly. ~ You Jin

Some cleric putting a match to her. /Neither of them looks happy about it. /Once lit, she'll burn like a book, /like a book that was ever finished, /like a locked-up library. ~ Margaret Atwood

Getting your first review is like getting your teeth whitened. You hope it doesn't hurt as much as they say on the internet and you also hope it will leave you with a blinding smile. ~ Kathy Parks

Bleeping faeries," I muttered darkly. Why couldn't they leave me alone?
Uber-vamp's eyes lit up. "Faeries? Do you know where I can find one?"
I rolled my eyes. "Trust me,if I could, I'd set you loose on the whole race. ~ Kiersten White

The Romans move east from New York. They advance in your camp, and nothing can slow them down.
"Nothing can slow them down," Leo mused. "I wonder..."
"What?" Jason asked.
Leo looked at the dwarfs. "I'll make you a deal."
Akmon's eyes lit up. "Thirty percent?"
"We'll leave you all the treasure," Leo said, "except the stuff that belongs to us, and the astrolabe, and this book, which we'll take back to the dude in Venice."
"But he'll destroy us!" Passolos wailed.
"We won't say where we got it," Leo promised. "And we won't kill you. We'll let you go free."
"Uh, Leo...?" Jason asked nervously.
Akmon squealed in delight. "I knew you were as smart at Hercules! I will call you Black Bottom, the Sequel!"
"You, no thanks," Leo said. "But in return for us sparing your lives, you have to do something for us. I'm going to send you somewhere to steal from some people, harass them, make life hard for them any way you can. You have to follow my directions exactly. You have to swear on the River Styx."
"We swear!" Passalos said. "Stealing from people is our specialty!"
"I love harassment!" Akmon agreed. "Where are we going?"
Leo grinned. "Ever heard of New York? ~ Rick Riordan

When you took me from the witch trial at Cranesmuir--you said then that you would have died with me, you would have gone to the stake with me, had it come to that!"

He grasped my hands, fixing me with a steady blue gaze.

"Aye, I would," he said. "But I wasna carrying your child."

The wind had frozen me; it was the cold that made me shake, I told myself. The cold that took my breath away.

"You can't tell," I said, at last. "It's much too soon to be sure."

He snorted briefly, and a tiny flicker of amusement lit his eyes.

"And me a farmer, too! Sassenach, ye havena been a day late in your courses, in all the time since ye first took me to your bed. Ye havena bled now in forty-six days."

"You bastard!" I said, outraged. "You counted! In the middle of a bloody war, you counted!"

"Didn't you?"

"No!" I hadn't; I had been much too afraid to acknowledge the possibility of the thing I had hoped and prayed for so long, come now so horribly too late.

"Besides," I went on, trying still to deny the possibility, "that doesn't mean anything. Starvation could cause that; it often does."

He lifted one brow, and cupped a broad hand gently beneath my breast.

"Aye, you're thin enough; but scrawny as ye are, your breasts are full--and the nipples of them gone the color of Champagne grapes. You forget," he said, "I've seen ye so before. I have no doubt--and neither hav ~ Diana Gabaldon

And said to myself, as I lit my cigar, Supposing a man had the wealth of the Czar Of the Russias to boot, for the rest of his days, On the whole do you think he would have much to spare If he married a woman with nothing to wear? ~ William Allen Butler

We have to rethink the way we light our cities. We have to think again about light as a default solution. Why are all these motorways permanently lit? Is it really needed? Can we maybe be much more selective and create better environments that also benefit from darkness? Can we be more gentle with light? ~ Rogier Van Der Heide

When they got to thew bottom of the stairwell, they stopped dead. Blay's father was facing off with a lesser, a Civil War sword in one hand, a dagger in the other.
Behind his Joe Friday glasses, his eyes were lit like torches, and they flicked over for a split second. "Stay out of this. This one's mine."
The shit was done faster than you can say, Ninja Dad.
Blay's father went Ginsu on the slayer, carving the thing up like a turkey, then stabbing it back to the Omega. ~ J.R. Ward

What does literature do better than anything else? It provides a detailed representation of the inner experience of being alive in a given time and place. ~ Elif Batuman

First, he though, I need shoes with rubber on the bottom. I need gelato. ~ Michael Ondaatje

God Bless Your Fingers

Ten sugar-dipped strawberries. Ten humming sailors. Let the church say amen. Let the chapel doors open and open again. Ten gentle explorers who found my body buried inside itself. Who can see in the dark. Who can baptize me from across the continent. Let the church of my legs say bless. Let the church of my breasts say oh god. You have found the presents I hid from you. You have grown in me a basin I can never fill. Ten wise men. Ten pilgrimages across my stomach. Ten lit candles. Ten holy ghosts. I am a séance. I am a séance. ~ Sierra DeMulder

If beauty is pain - let me get lost in it. If you're my salvation - I want to earn it. If love is all I have to give - then let me give it. You. It's all for you."
Gabe's eyes opened and locked in on mine.
"How can I prove that what I feel is real? You ask for truth I give you lies. You ask for joy I make you cry. But I don't want to lose you. Not like this. Not when I've left your heart in such a mess. Give me one chance - I'm letting go of the past - but I need you here to know."
"If beauty is pain - let me get lost in it. If you're my salvation - I want to earn it. If love is all I have to give - then let me give it. You, it's all for you." He paused, hitting the last few notes, and the song ended.
Gabe's smile lit up the room.
But I was frozen in place.
Me. He'd sung that to me. ~ Rachel Van Dyken

We thought ourselves kings of the ages. Now we find that all our civilisation has been nothing but a brief, brightly lit nursery, where we have played with paper crowns and wooden sceptres. ~ Frances Hardinge

The heroic New York doctor who caught Ebola has been declared Ebola free. President Obama called the doctor to thank him for his selflessness and compassion. Then to be safe, Obama threw his phone in a trash can and lit it on fire. ~ Jimmy Fallon

I began to think I quite liked her really. It's always so nice to meet someone more badly behaved than oneself. ~ Helen Fielding

On one of the nights during my journey I wandered out under the sky which was lit with stars and I believed for a moment that soon these stars would cease to glitter, that the nights of the future would be dark beyond dark, that the world itself would undergo a great change, and then I quickly came to see that the change would happen only to me and to the few who knew me; it would be only we who would look at the sky at night in the future and see the darkness before we saw the glitter. We would see the glittering stars as false and mocking, or as bewildered themselves by the night as we were , as leftover things confined to their place, their shining nothing more than a sort of pleading. ~ Colm Toibin

For me, 'Bookends' marks the start of my foray into commercial fiction, away from what has always been thought of as more traditional chick lit - single girl in the city trips around in Manolos looking for Mr. Right. ~ Jane Green

Thorne said, "I saw the village. Just over that rise."
"It didn't look charming, did it?" Colin raised a brow as he reached for the tinderbox. "I should hate for it to be charming. Give me a dank, seedy, vice-ridden pustule of a village any day. Wholesome living makes my skin crawl."
The corporal gave him a stony look. "I wouldn't know about charming, my lord."
"Yes. I can see that," Colin muttered. He struck a flint and lit the fuse. "Fair enough."
-Thorne & Colin ~ Tessa Dare

Slowly the golden memory of the dead sun fades from the hearts of the cold, sad clouds. Silent, like sorrowing children, the birds have ceased their song, and only the moorhen's plaintive cry and the harsh croak of the corncrake stirs the awed hush around the couch of waters, where the dying day breathes out her last.
From the dim woods on either bank, Night's ghostly army, the grey shadows, creep out with noiseless tread to chase away the lingering rear- guard of the light, and pass, with noiseless, unseen feet, above the waving river-grass, and through the sighing rushes; and Night, upon her sombre throne, folds her black wings above the darkening world, and, from her phantom palace, lit by the pale stars, reigns in stillness. ~ Jerome K. Jerome

We are good not in virtue of what we are but in virtue of what we are not, like darkness lit up by a light that enters into it from without. We are not light in ourselves but in virtue of having within us what is light in itself. ~ Kathryn Tanner

Fiercely intelligent, yet bearing a sensibility far more porous than most, Van Gogh was unable, or unwilling, to abstract his intellect from his body's reality, unwilling to abandon the myriad things, to tame his senses and so stifle the steady eros between his flesh and the flesh of the earth.

"Again and again he slides out of himself, through his eyes, to feel the hunkard silence of the olive groves, and to taste the spreading ecstasy of the leaves as they're slowly lit by the climbing sun. And again and again he is invaded, in turn, by the visible -- penetrated by the midday langor of the rolling wheat fields, or by the sullen mood of a neighbor's face. Although he writes often to his brother and a few friends (letters of luminous candor and kindness), it is only in the act of drawing and painting that he is able to give expression to this ongoing intercourse, by offering back to the visible a trace of what the visible steadily pours into his chest.

"His paintings, then, are windows through which we look onto an earth no less alive and intelligent than ourselves ~ David Abram

The earthquakes in people's heads, half the city's population was cracked, a rabble of doom-merchants, psychos, ghouls. They could smell a funeral a mile off, and out they crawled, out of the woodwork. A funeral lit them up, it was like fuel, it kept them burning for days. ~ Rupert Thomson

This compulsion to an activity without respite, without variety, without result was so cruel that one day, noticing a swelling over his stomach, he felt an actual joy in the idea that he had, perhaps, a tumor that would prove fatal, that he need not concern himself with anything further, since it was this malady that was going to govern his life, to make a plaything of him, until the not-distant end. If indeed, at his period, it often happened that, though without admitting it even to himself, he longed for death, it was in order to escape not so much from the keenness of his sufferings as from the monotony of his struggle. ~ Marcel Proust

How do you give someone the best pain of their life without touching them?"
Kingsley raised the cigarette to his lips again. He heard a snapping sound, and the cigarette no longer held a flame. For a long time he looked at his cigarette before slowly turning his head toward Søren who held a bullwhip in his hand. Casually Søren coiled it.
Cigarette lit.
Bullwhip snap.
Cigarette not lit anymore.
He held the stub in his hand split in two.
"Any other questions?" Søren asked with an arrogant lift of his eyebrow. ~ Tiffany Reisz

Under the microscope you clearly perceive that these insects have organs, orifices, excrement; they do, most emphatically, copulate. Escorted on the one side by the Bot or Warble, on the other by the Hessian Fly, Miss Ormond advanced statelily, if slowly, into the open. Never did her features show more sublime than when lit up by the candour of her avowal. This is excrement; these, though Ritzema Bos is positive to the contrary, are the generative organs of the male. I've proved it. ~ Virginia Woolf

Right.' The girl nodded. '. . . make love to their sweethearts, fuck their whores, or any other combination thereof - they must endure the constant light of so-called nevernight, lit by one or more of Aa's eyes in the heavens. ~ Jay Kristoff

I'm very determined and stubborn. There's a desire in me that makes me want to do more and more, and to do it right. Each one of us has a fire in our heart for something. It's our goal in life to find it and to keep it lit. ~ Mary Lou Retton

Ukraine is a tinderbox, and the fuse is lit. There is no solution through violence in Ukraine. ~ Frank-Walter Steinmeier

A full moon, although less splendid than that earlier on,lit everything around. Before I reached the point where I would have to leave the road and set off across country, the narrow path I was following seemed suddenly to end and disappear behind a large hedge, and there before me, as if blocking my way, stood a single, tall tree, very dark at first against the transparently clear night sky. Out of nowhere, a breeze got up. It set the tender stems of the grasses shivering, made the green blades of the reeds shudder and sent a ripple across the brown waters of a puddle. Like a wave, it lifted up the spreading branches of the tree and, murmuring, climbed the trunk, and then, suddenly, the leaves turned their undersides to the moon and the whole beech tree (because it was a beech) was covered in white as far as the topmost branch.It was only a moment, no more than that, but the memory of it will last as long as my life lasts. ~ Jose Saramago

So here is what I see when we reclaim the church ladies: a woman loved and free is beautiful. She is laughing with her sisters, and together they are telling their stories, revealing their scars and their wounds, the places where they don't have it figured out. They are nurturers, creating a haven where the young, the broken, the tenderhearted, and the at-risk can flourish. These women are dancing and worshiping, hands high, faces tipped toward heaven, tears streaming. They are celebrating all shapes and sizes, talking frankly and respectfully about sexuality and body image, promising to stop calling themselves fat. They are saving babies tossed in rubbish heaps, rescuing child soldiers, supporting mamas trying to make ends meet halfway around the world, thinking of justice when they buy their daily coffee. They are fighting sex trafficking. They are pastoring and counseling. They are choosing life consistently, building hope, doing the hard work of transformation in themselves. They are shaking off the silence of shame and throwing open the prison doors of physical and sexual abuse, addictions, eating disorders, and suicidal depression. Poverty and despair are being unlocked - these women know there are many hands helping turn that key. There isn't much complaining about husbands and chores, cattiness, or jealousy when a woman knows she is loved for her true self. She is lit up with something bigger than what the world offers, refusing to be intimidated into silence or despa ~ Sarah Bessey

Seeing that I would never manage to fall asleep, I arose, lit a candle, and after dressing went outside.

Beneath the dull glow of the winter moon the snow glowed like pale blue china. The sidewalks sparkled weakly beneath the rays of the flickering street lamps; the benumbed streets slumbered forlornly. I walked, passing one corner after the other, and suddenly found myself on the edge of town. Further, beyond the square, an endless expanse began to glisten with a somber silverness.

I stopped just before the gates. My intent gaze could distinguish nothing in the distant white expanse. Before me rose the imposing bank of the Volga like a gigantic snowdrift. So barren and uninviting was this deserted view resembling eternity that my heart contracted.

I turned to the right and approached quite close to the monastery enclosure. From behind the bronze gates, glimmered a dense net of crosses and gravestones. The ancient eyes of the church gazed forbiddingly down on me, and with an eerie feeling I thought of the monks sleeping at this moment in tomb-like cells together with corpses. Were any of them thinking of the hour of death on this night?

("Lamia") ~ Boris Sadovskoy

If there is a smoke, there is a fire, the saying goes, That is quite true, but one should find what the fire is, and who lit it. ~ Tariq Ramadan

Cimil's eyes lit. "The Niccolo DiConti? What an honor!" Niccolo stood a little taller then. "Yes, I seek your assistance." Cimil rolled her eyes. "Well, no duh. You didn't abandon your queen's side, risking her wrath, to see me in my fabulous birthday suit. ~ Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

was one of those large, under-lit places that seemed to recede into shadow at the periphery, and in the murky middle ~ Emily St. John Mandel

Zachary maneuvered the vehicle down the rutted lane, scanning the corners for signs of danger. Two minutes and they'd be safe. Free. Absurd, giddy joy lit Zachary up. He smiled at Brian. "Jesus, you're a pain in the ass."
Brian grinned. "But I give great head, Sir. ~ Kari Gregg

Is that you, Sergeant Angua?" said a voice in the gloom. A lantern was open, and lit the approaching face of Constable Visit. As he drew near, she could just make out the thick wad of pamphlets under his other arm.
"Hello, Washpot," she said. "What's up?"
" ... looks like a twist of lemon ... " said a damp voice from the shadows.
"Mister Vimes sent me to search the bars of iniquity and low places of sin for you," said Visit.
"And the literature?" said Angua. "By the way, the words "nothing personal" could have so easily been added to that last sentence. ~ Terry Pratchett