Tar And Feather Quotes

The actions of my government are not bearable. They devastate our natural resources and deprive our people. The politicians speak piously while practicing greed and divisiveness. They care nothing for the nation. I want to do more than withdraw my support. I want to tar and feather them. ~ Donella Meadows

Eyebrows and hair singed off, Hector is barely recognizable under a lathering of day-glow orange. He appears to have been tarred-and-feathered with orange tar and oatmeal feathers. ~ Ray Palla

Whatever happens, we've got your back, girlfriend! Unless, of course, the crowd gets mad and decides to tar and feather us. Then, I'll be leaving you in the dust! ~ Rachel Renee Russell

One by one, the snowflakes floated down on to his warm snout, and melted. He reached out to grab them so he could admire them for a fleeting moment. He looked towards the sky and watched them drift down towards him, more and more, soft and light as a feather. 'So that's how it works,' thought Moomintroll. 'And I thought somehow that the snow grew from the ground up! ~ Tove Jansson, Moominland Midwinter

A wound gives strange dignity to him who bears it. Well men shy from his new and terrible majesty. It is as if the wounded man's hand is upon the curtain which hangs before the revelations of all existence - the meaning of ants, potentates, wars, cities, sunshine, snow, a feather dropped from a bird's wing; and the power of it sheds radiance upon a bloody form, and makes the other men understand sometimes that they are little. His comrades look at him with large eyes thoughtfully. Moreover, they fear vaguely that the weight of a finger upon him might send him headlong, precipitate the tragedy, hurl him at once into the dim, gray unknown.
("An Episode Of War") ~ Stephen Crane

In Tar Baby, the classic concept of the individual with a solid, coherent identity is eschewed for a model of identity which sees the individual as a kaleidoscope of heterogeneous impulses and desires, constructed from multiple forms of interaction with the world as a play of difference that cannot be completely comprehended. ~ Toni Morrison

The perfect pouf of a dandelion going to seed: a firm center surrounded by a sphere of feather-winged seeds, delicately congregating, a wispy aura where just yesterday there was a thick yellow bloom. Touched by the slightest wind, the emanation disperses and sends tiny slivers of dandelion being out into the world to propogate their own kind. ~ Susan Tyler Hitchcock

She was smart like that, and lucky like that, and people loved the hell out of her. They didn't love the hell out of me; they ran the hell away from me. It wasn't like I was a bad person or anything, I just … had a lot of accidents. I didn't mean accidents like I ate glue and then peed myself on a regular basis. I just tripped more than usual, and accidently set things on fire more than what would be considered 'normal'. I got kicked out of the village school only one moon-cycle before graduation for accidently making one of the teachers bald. How do you accidently make someone bald? That's a good question. All you really need is a bucket of warm tar to accidently toss onto the back of their head. How do you get a bucket of warm tar? You don't go looking for it or anything - or at least I didn't. It was just sitting on the road outside the school and I thought I should carry it inside to ask what it was. ~ Jaymin Eve

Laughter greeted Clint's ears at the open doorway - rich, soft laughter, like the creamy center of a melted caramel. The kind of laughter that made you want to wrap yourself up in it and stay a while.

Clint stopped in the doorway, spellbound.

The boys sat on different sides of an antique four-poster bed, sunk knee-deep in patchwork quilts, sheets and what he would swear was an old fashioned feather-tick mattress. But it was the vision between the little boys that held Clint's attention.

Emma Lewis had the same rich, dark, burnt-copper hair as her sons, and the burns-if-she's-out-in-the-sun-longer-than-one-hour skin of most redheads. Beneath the wrinkled T-shirt and jeans she'd fallen asleep in, he could tell she was neither too thin nor too heavy, just the luscious type of figure Clint decided long ago he liked on women. She also possessed that wonderful laughter that had stirred more than his heart to life.

But when she raised the deepest cornflower-blue eyes to him, Clint nearly moaned. If he let himself, he could get lost in that open, clear gaze forever.

"Can I help you?" The remnants of sleep in her voice brought on visions of hearing her voice after a night of endless passion. ~ Suzanne Ferrell

There's something very peaceful about being in love. It can make you light as a feather; so blissfully unaware of anything else of importance. It can make you feel anger, rage, jealousy and lust all in one sentence. But the most important thing that love can give a person is certainty. Certainty that love, real love, will always pull you through your darkest days. ~ Shelly Pratt

Like Guitar in Son of Solomon, and Son in Tar Baby, he believed that harmony could never exist between the races. ~ Toni Morrison

Now we see it, lying in the middle of the road. A swan, a mute swan. It looks like an offcut of organza, crumpled around the edges, twitching. As we pass we see its long neck has buckled into its body like a folding chair. We see its wings are tucked back as if the tar is liquid and the swan is swimming.
There are two men and a woman in the road. One man is standing on the tar, the other is directing the traffic. The woman is kneeling down beside the swan. I think she is crying, she seems to be crying, and this makes me suddenly angry. I think of all the other creatures we've seen since we set out. I think of the rat, the fox, the kitten, the badger. I think of the jackdaw, did you see the jackdaw? We passed it in the queue to pass the swan. Its beak was cracked open, its brains squeeged out. Why didn't anybody stop for the jackdaw? Because the swan looks like a wedding dress, that's why. Whereas the jackdaw looks like a bin bag. Because this is how people measure life. ~ Sara Baume

I felt a little lost between the blue and white of the sky and the monotony of the colors around me- the sticky black of the tar, the dull black of all the clothes, and the shiny black of the hearse. ~ Albert Camus

You will see the effects of dark secrets making themselves known
via their minds and bodies and via the stories your friends ... will begin telling you ... The only payback for all of this
for the conversion of their once-young hearts into tar
will be that you will love your friends more, even though they have made you see the universe as an emptier and scarier place ... ~ Douglas Coupland

Thank you, baby," he breathes, covering my upturned face in soft feather-light kisses. I open my eyes and gaze up at him, and he wraps his arms tighter around me.
"Your cheek is pink from the baize," he murmurs, rubbing my face tenderly. "How was that?" His eyes are wide and cautious.
"Teeth-clenchingly good," I mutter. "I like it rough, Christian, and I like it gentle, too. I like that it's with you."
He closes his eyes and hugs me even tighter. ~ E.L. James

While he writes, I feel as if he is drawing me; or not drawing me, drawing on me - drawing on my skin - not with the pencil he is using, but with an old-fashioned goose pen, and not with the quill end but with the feather end. As if hundreds of butterflies have settled all over my face, and are softly opening and closing their wings. ~ Margaret Atwood

I talk to people who are musicians, and they go, Oh this is hell. And I go, Are you kidding me? You never put tar paper on a roof, did ya? ~ Chris Isaak

When faced with demanding situations, can you keep your heart as light as a feather? Can you laugh your way through challenges and maintain an attitude freer than fear? When confronted with upsets and the poisonous projections of others, can you remember that all is well? Do you know that you are a spiritual being, not subject to the whims and caprices of earthly tides? ~ Alan Cohen

But in that moment, I didn't want to be trusted. I wanted something far more primal. I stretched up on my tiptoes and leaned in. I closed my eyes as his scent overcame me. When his lips touched mine it felt as if he'd caressed them with a feather. It was all I could do not to wrap myself around him and do things I'd never really thought about doing before. ~ Sara Hubbard

Vilis still doesn't pass to me but I don't care. Where he comes from (Latvia) they burn black people into tar and make roads out of them. ~ Stephen Kelman

Weightless in water, swift as the wind, Subtle of purpose - a feather blown - I go with my oarsmen where they will, My beautiful body and theirs all one. ~ Mark Van Doren

The rain began the next morning and showed no signs of letting up. Mud sucked at Arin's boots as he helped Kestrel ready her horse. The rain intensified, dropping down like little stones.
Arin squinted up at it. "Terrible day to ride." He hated to see her go.
She wiped water from her face, glancing over at Risha, whose head was tipped back under the rain, eyes closed. "Not for everyone," Kestrel said, "and the rain will make it less likely a Valorian scout will notice that a small band is riding from camp."
True. The middle distance was a gray fog. Arin raked dripping hair off his brow. He tried to be all right. His nerves sparked the way a blade does against the grinder.
Kestrel touched his cheek. "The rain is good for us."
"Come here."
She tasted like the rain: cool and fresh and sweet. Her mouth warmed as he kissed her. He felt the way her clothes stuck to her skin. He forgot himself.
She murmured, "I have something for you."
"You needn't give me anything."
"It's not a gift. It's for you to keep safe until I return." She placed a speckled yellow feather on his palm.
The rain fell in a veil behind her. ~ Marie Rutkoski

Erastus made himself look at his men. There was fear in their eyes but no panic. They had faced too much for panic. The psychology of courage buckled them together like a visible bond. He did not try to reassure them falsely. There was danger, plenty of it; they faced starvation. But there were worse things than starvation. There were mobs and rapings and the tar bucket. They had their freedom and their strong right arms--what more did any man need? ~ Maurine Whipple

Can you speak to the dead…like your sister?"
Ms. Dupré's body seems to loosen, and her voice gets soft as a feather against your skin. "No, child. But you can say goodbye to someone even after he's gone. You just have to find a way that's right for you. ~ Thomas Fahy

After the injury he began to dress more like an artist. He wore nice scarves and saved his money for a good hat, a full-round brim with a small feather under the band. He wore bright socks and loved long conversations over supper - rich, funny conversations that could easily replace dessert. If there was a lull in the dialogue, he'd point to you and say it was your turn to talk. Now you say something interesting. ~ Donald Miller

Books open your mind, broaden your mind, and strengthen you as nothing else can. ~ William Feather

I have not the particular shining bauble or feather in my cap for crowds to gaze at or kneel to, but I have power and resolution for foes to tremble at. ~ Oliver Cromwell

How'd you get the burn?"
Ignoring him only got me a barrage of chatter.
"Yeah, how?"
'Did something, or someone, do it?"
"You're bleeding."
"It's her knee again."
"She opened it up."
"Did you fall?"
"You've got grass in your hair."
"Were you in a fight?"
"How'd you get grass in your hair?"
"I think she was in a fight."
"Leaves and some dirt, too. And...is that a feather?"
"You were in a fight with a bird?"
"Hey, how did you manage to knock Blake down?"
"She didn't knock me down! I caught her."
"Hah! A little girl took you out."
"Shut up or I'll take you out."
"Her extreme velocity overcame Blake's superior mass."
"I am superior."
"How'd you get moving so fast?"

I stopped abruptly and turned on them, arms gesturing wildly. "Shut up! ~ A. Kirk

Then there is the excitement as a fish takes this daintiest of offerings, this sleight-of-hand made of fur and feather. Each sparkling fish you release is a bond to wildness. ~ Kevin C. Kelleher

till, silently
without one peep, the angels come, their watch to keep.
They'll hold you safe while dreaming deep. The pillow cool beneath your head,
all star lit is your feather bed which glides the moonbeams like a sled,
above towns which glitter blue and red. ~ Dixie Dawn Miller Goode

Your scars are beautiful. It means you survived. It means you're here with me." He kissed my wrist, light as a feather - and changed everything about us. "It's my favorite part of you, ~ Ilsa Madden-Mills

It seems sad, that on the one hand such exquisite creatures should live out their lives and exhibit their charms only in these wild inhospitable regions...while on the other hand, should civilized man ever reach these distant lands... we may be sure that he will so disturb the nicely-balance relations of organic and inorganic nature as to cause the disappearance, and finally the extinction, of these very beings whose wonderful structure and beauty he alone is fitted to appreciate and enjoy.

This consideration must surely tell us that all living things were not made for man. ~ Alfred Russel Wallace

You've tugged on your bonnet strings five times in this conversation already. Why wear one, if it's so uncomfortable? Have you any reason for it, other than that it is what everyone else does?"
"I brown terribly in the sunlight. I'll develop freckles."
"Oh no,. That sounds awful." He spoke with exaggerated solicitude, but he leaned down from his horse until his nose was a bare foot from hers. "Freckles. And what do those dastardly spots portend? Are freckled people thrown in prison? Pilloried? Covered in tar and sprinkled with tiny little down feathers? ~ Courtney Milan

[Tar water] is of a nature so mild and benign and proportioned to the human constitution, as to warm without heating, to cheer but not inebriate. ~ George Berkeley

Probably no single event highlights the strength of Campbell's argument (on peak oil) better than the rapid development of the Alberta tar sands. Bitumen, the world's ugliest and most expensive hydrocarbon, can never be a reasonable substitute for light oil due to its extreme capital, energy, and carbon intensity. Bitumen looks, smells, and behaves like asphalt; running an economy on it is akin to digging up our existing road infrastructure, melting it down, and enriching the goop with hydrogen until it becomes a sulfur-rich but marketable oil. ~ Andrew Nikiforuk

The psychotic clown I sent for his birthday will feel like a feather falling on a pillow atop a cloud. The laxative in my lunch? Child's play. If you think it was bad when I sent that fake resume for his open assistant position and the stripper came for the interview? No. We're talking Defcon Five, Vietcong-level mind fucking, do you hear me, Chloe? ~ Christina Lauren

Geralt knew that bonnet and that feather, which were famed from the Buina to the Yaruga, known in manor houses, fortresses, inns, taverns and whorehouses. Particularly whorehouses. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Prose is like this big block - you write big paragraphs. I feel that when I'm reading and writing, that a prose book is kind of monolithic. But a song is more like a feather or something. ~ Bill Callahan

I simply do not understand the appeal of the turban. Lady Barrington looks as if a feather pillow has attached itself to her head." Unable to miss the headwear in question, Alex adopted the same method of conversation and replied, "Indeed. Although considering the enormous peacock feather protruding from the thing, it appears as though there may be some kind of exotic bird trapped under there." "Should we attempt a rescue?" Ella asked casually, sending all three girls into bright laughter. As ~ Sarah MacLean

Next time what I'd do is look at
the earth before saying anything. I'd stop
just before going into a house
and be an emperor for a minute
and listen better to the wind
or to the air being still.

When anyone talked to me, whether
blame or praise or just passing time,
I'd watch the face, how the mouth
has to work, and see any strain, any
sign of what lifted the voice.

And for all, I'd know more -- the earth
bracing itself and soaring, the air
finding every leaf and feather over
forest and water, and for every person
the body glowing inside the clothes
like a light. ~ William Stafford

7. Dress appropriately for your work environment.

We get it; you want everyone to know how creative and interesting you are. Well, let your personality do that for you rather than your crop top and feather shoes. ~ Grace Helbig

Their nasty whispering made me angry. They had a neat way of tucking their point inside something softseeming and neighborly. The cutting edge was hidden in a joke or a piece of advice. It was like being sliced by a tiny blade hidden in a goose feather; it took a moment to realize the wound. ~ Ananda Braxton-Smith

The real Alvarr sidled up next to her and breathed in her ear. "May I have this..."
"No." She stepped away. Could this get any more embarrassing?
"Alvarr..." Thoren began.
"I'm a wonderful dancer," Alvarr said with a grin, taking Jillian's hand. "Light as a feather."
"I'm more like cement," she muttered... ~ Cate Rowan