The River The Unsung Love Story Quotes

You had to be willing to fight in order for a love story to last a life time. ~ Cristina Marrero

Love is a wild fire that cannot be contained by any mere element known to man. ~ Cristina Marrero

He who asserts belief with absolute certainty knows nothing of faith and makes himself into a fool. He who is wise, upon realizing they have done this, recants and searches themselves for further enlightenment. ~ Cristina Marrero

There are so many unsung heroines and heroes at this broken moment in our collective story, so many courageous persons who, unbeknownst to themselves, are holding together the world by their resolute love or contagious joy. Although I do not know your names, I can feel you out there. ~ David Abram

The river runs every shade of blue that has ever been known to humankind: ink and turquoise and lapis, indigo, teal, cerulean, and ultramarine. ~ Alice Hoffman

Tatiana was order. She was finite matter in infinite space. Tatiana was the standard-bearer for the flag of grace and valor that she carried forward with Bounty and perfection in herself, the flag Alexander had followed sixteen hundred kilometers east to the Kama River, to the Ural Mountains, to Lazarevo. ~ Paullina Simons

Maybe he, like Mum, believed God had delivered three extra children, one-two-three, as a sign of His plan for this couple's long, long friendship. But God had also delivered to him the Oxford Paper Company, and the foamy river it sat upon. And the long working hours it required. And the poison it put in the air. Three more girls from God might portend a long married life, but a multi-acre paper mill, with much heat but no heart, could make for still competition if it decided to bestow the opposite.
Maybe it was the work. ~ Monica Wood

The explosion was deafening; a huge cloud of fire rolled out the window after us, its immense heat brushing my face as we tumbled into the snow.

We hit the ground and rolled. Flaming debris from the house came down around us; Griffin shoved me flat on my back, covering us both with his heavy coat.

The echoes of the explosion reflected back across the river, then slowly dwindled away, like dying thunder. The leaping flames threw warm light onto the falling snow, turning it into a storm of sparks pouring down from the heavens.

Griffin started to push himself off of me, then stoped. His hands were braced on either side of my shoulders, his legs twined with mine. Mt heart pounded, my palms sweated, and I was suddenly, acutely aware of how close his face was to mine.

"You're a madman," he whispered. "An utter madman."

"Perhaps," I allowed. "But it worked."

The leaping light from the burning house painted his features in gold, highlighting his patrician nose and finding threads of brown and blue in his green eyes. His pupils widened, the irises contracting to silver. "Whatever am I going to do with you?" he murmured.

The warmth of his breath feathered over my skin. Heat collected in my groin, my lips. My mouth was dry, my voice hoarse, and perhaps he was right and it was madness when I whispered, "Whatever you want."

A shiver went through his body, perhaps because we were lying on the col ~ Jordan L. Hawk

That night marks my life's dark center, the moment when growing up ended and the long downward slope toward death began. The wonder to me now is that I thought myself worth saving ... I reached out and clung for life with my good left hand like a claw, grasping at moving legs to raise myself from the dirt. Desperate to save myself in a river of people saving themselves. And if they chanced to look down and see me struggling underneath them, they saw that even the crooked girl believed her own life was precious. That is what it means to be a beast in the kingdom. ~ Barbara Kingsolver

There's no way that can be the river," Rhiow said.
"Rhi, the ceiling of Grand Central
" Saash said.
"It's backward," Rhiow snapped, "thank you very much, I know all about it."
"Is it?" Saash said. "Which direction are you coming at it from?"
Rhiow closed her mouth and thought about that. ~ Diane Duane

Like an ice in a spring river.
I melt and stay.
Sun will vaporise us.
It will take us up into clouds.
And then we both will fall.
Drop by drop.
We'll fall out of the sky.
We'll raise from dew to fog.
Every sunny warm morning.
We'll let the wind pull us with him.
Cooling our selves in forest shadows.
There in silence we'll cool off
One from another.
But in stormy days and nights.
We'll billow and crash.
One to another.
Like crazy and wild.
We'll churn into white foam.
Ashore in sands we'll wait
For the yellow october leaves
Into them we'll fall asleep.
We'll fall into and freeze.

We'll freeze and melt again
And flow and raise and fall again.
Over and over again

Even if we were in separete glasses of water.
We would moove together and whisper.
Even if in the oceans mixed.
We would moove together and sing.

I'm comming to You.
You are blazing.
I'm giving You a rose
It embalms sweet.

...

If I'll ever meet You.
I' ll take our time...
To dance dance dance dance with You... ~ Martins Paparde

To wake up on a gloriously bright morning, in a tent pitched beneath spruce trees, and to look out lazily and sleepily for a moment from the open side of the tent, across the dead camp-fire of the night before, to the river, where the light of morning rests and perhaps some early-rising[240] native is gliding in his birch canoe; to go to the river and freshen one's self with the cold water, and yell exultingly to the gulls and hell-divers, in the very joy of living; or to wake at night, when you have rolled in your blankets in the frost-stricken dying grass without a tent, and to look up through the leaves above to the dark sky and the flashing stars, and hear far off the call of a night bird or the howl of a wolf: this is the poetry, the joy of a wild and roving existence, which cannot come too often ~ Josiah Edward Spurr

The Colorado River was at a record low and the towers in Lake Mead stood high out of the water. But the Angelenos committed communal suicide by watering lawns as usual. ~ Robert A. Heinlein

He floated by them, and slowly his boat departed, waning to a dark spot against the golden light; and then suddenly it vanished. Rauros roared on unchanging. The River had taken Boromir son of Denethor, and he was not seen again in Minas Tirith, standing as he used to stand upon the White Tower in the morning. But in Gondor in after-days it long was said that the elven-boat rode the falls and the foaming pool, and bore him down through Osgiliath, and past the many mouths of Anduin, out into the Great Sea at night under the stars. ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

In Holland, Ron was the battalion S-2 Intelligence officer for Colonel Robert Strayer. While on reconnaissance, Ron paddled across the Neder Rhine alone at night. The enemy opened fire on him and he dove into the water with a German bullet in his butt. He finished recrossing the river by swimming and was found bleeding and exhausted on the south shore. In spite of his wound, he brought back critical information and later received the Silver Star for that adventure. ~ Marcus Brotherton

The landscape of Turin, the monumental squares, the promenades along the Po river, were bathed in a kind of 'Claude Lorraine' luminosity (Dostoyevsky's golden age), a diaphonousness that removed the weight of things and made them recede into a infinite distance. The stream of light here became a stream of laughter - the laughter from which truth emerges, the laughter in which identities explode, including Nietzsche's. What also exploded is the meaning that things can have or lose for other things, not in terms of limited linkage or narrow context, but in terms of variations of light ~ Pierre Klossowski

A net across the Little Trickle won't catch fish in the Watercress River. ~ Carol Kendall

It is forbidden to go east, but I have gone, forbidden to go on the great river, but I am there. Open your hearts, you spirits, and hear my song. ~ Stephen Vincent Benet

The thing I really like about Jase is that he's as obsessed with ducks as I am. I rarely took my boys hunting with me when they were very young. In fact, I never took them when I was still an outlaw. "Not this time, boys, we might be running from the game warden," I'd tell them. But after I repented and came to Jesus Christ, I started taking my sons hunting with me, beginning with Alan. Before we moved to where we live now, it was a pretty long haul from town to the Ouachita River bottoms. Alan got carsick nearly every time I took him hunting, but he didn't think I knew. We stopped at the same gas station every time, and he'd walk around back and lose his breakfast before he climbed back into the truck. I was proud of him for never complaining.
I took Jase hunting for the first time when he was five. He was shooting Pa's heavy Belgium-made Browning twelve-gauge shotgun, which he could barely even hold up. It kicked like a mule! The first time Jase shot the gun, it kicked him to the back of the blind and flipped him over a bench.
"Did I get him?" Jase asked.
I knew right then that I had another hunter in the family, and Jase is still the most skilled hunter of all my boys. I trained Jase to take over the company by teaching him the nuances of duck calls and fowl hunting, and he is still the person in charge of making sure every duck call sounds like a duck. Not only did Jase design the first gadwall drake call to hit the market, he also invented the first triple ~ Phil Robertson

With so much sky and so much river, you couldn't help seeing the big picture. It was what you already knew, but crowding into the subway or rushing to a movie, you only saw it for a second, and close up. Now I took a good long look. I'd always heard you couldn't see stars in Manhattan because of all the lights. But here they all were. Here was my night in shining armor. ~ Melissa Bank

Seeing her look at me this way causes my soul to leap from its rest and give of what I too have been feeling. Her eyes compare to that still river raising light from the moon that passes through the sky. I am now as indestructible and as fragile as I've ever been as she reaches out for me to grab her and hold her tightly. The burning inside of me initiates a pure joy and peace that I haven't felt in so long. To love and be loved has become the most incredible experience ever granted unto me. She is now my every breath and the very beating of my heart. I hold her close as the tense weave of my muscles break free and give warmth to every part of her. ~ Luccini Shurod

A river seems a magic thing. A magic, moving, living part of the very earth itself. ~ Laura Gilpin

Despite the chaos, our family had a solid routine. Weekends were spent at the cabin where we enjoyed the quiet. A few times a week, Raven and Lark trained at Big Bob's. My kids and I cawed for mommy during games. Once a week, we dropped by Cooper's new house to add to his chaos.
At least twice a week, we lived at the bowling alley. All the kids loved the game and River was quite talented like his pop. Our youngest Nevaeh even enjoyed bowling before she was born. Every time we were at the alley, the baby would kick the hell out of Raven. My woman responded by eating nachos. While I never understood the plan behind dosing our unborn kid with cheese, who was I to question her tactics? ~ Bijou Hunter

If I could dam up the flow of Duck River channel its waters into my inkstone pool I'd use it up expressing my congratulations and I could celebrate your birthday forever. ~ Daichō Rōryō

We're just like you,' the other tiger said. 'We speak the same language you do. We think the same thought. But we're tigers.'
'You could help me with arithmetic,' I said.
'What's that?' one of the tigers said.
'My arithmetic.'
'Oh, your arithmetic.'
'Yeah.'
'What do you want to know?' one of the tigers said.
'What's nine times nine?'
'Eighty-one,' a tiger said.
'What's eight times eight?'
'Fifty-six,' a tiger said.
I asked them half of dozen other questions: six times six, seven times four, etc. I was having a lot of trouble with arithmetic. Finally the tigers got bored with my questions and told me to go away.
'OK,' I said. 'I'll go outside.'
'Don't go too far,' one of the tigers said. 'We don't want anyone to come up here and kill us.'
'OK.'
They both went back to eating my parents. I went outside and sat down by the river. 'I'm an orphan,' I said. ~ Richard Brautigan

He left as silently as he'd come. Pierre LaManche favored crepe-soled shoes, kept his pockets empty so nothing jangled or swished. Like a croc in a river he arrived and departed unannounced by auditory cues. Some of the staff found it unnerving. ~ Kathy Reichs

I never heard communism seriously propounded or argued; perhaps I was too deeply preoccupied with my own dissipations; and, as it turned out in the end it was a way of thought that I was denied or spared by a geographical fluke. From the end of these travels till the War, I lived, with a year's interruption, in Eastern Europe, among friends whom I must call old-fashioned liberals. They hated Nazi Germany; but it was impossible to look eastwards for inspiration and hope, as their western equivalents
peering from afar, and with the nightmare of only one kind of totalitarianism to vex them
felt able to do. For Russia began only a few fields away, the other side of a river; and there, as all her neighbours knew, great wrong was being done and terrible danger lay. All their fears came true. Living among them made me share those fears and they made stony ground for certain kinds of grain. ~ Patrick Leigh Fermor

Tjaden comes back. He is still worked up and joins in the debate again straight away by asking how a war starts in the first place. 'Usually when one country insults another one badly,' answers Kropp, a little patronizingly. But Tjaden isn't going to be put off. 'A country? I don't get it. A German mountain can't insult a French mountain, or a river, or a forest, or a cornfield. ~ Erich Maria Remarque

Why sip from a tea cup, when you can drink from the river. ~ Steve Martin

Four are the tributaries of the great river. Four are the harvests from floodseason to dust. Four are the great treasures: timbalin, myrrh, lapis, and jungissa. Four bands of color mark the face of the Dreaming Moon. Red for blood. White for seed. Yellow for ichor. Black for bile. ~ N.K. Jemisin

Up the river, toward the city, buttery sunlight bounced off the Temple of the Dawn, scattering color into the air like a jewel. ~ Sharon Guskin

One might think that those who feast most often on communion with God are least hungry. They turn often from the innocent pleasures of the world to linger more directly in the presence of God through the revelation of his Word. And there they eat the Bread of Heaven and drink the Living Water by meditation and faith. But, paradoxically, it is not so that they are the least hungry saints. The opposite is the case. The strongest, most mature Christians I have ever met are the hungriest for God. It might seem that those who eat most would be least hungry. But that's not the way it works with an inexhaustible fountain, and an infinite feast, and a glorious Lord. When you take your stand on the finished work of God in Christ, and begin to drink at the River of Life and eat the Bread of Heaven, and know that you have found the end of all your longings, ~ John Piper

He had no breath, no being, but in hers, she was his voice; he did not speak to her. But trembled on her words; She was his sight, For his eye followed hers, and saw hers, Which colored all his objects-he had crease to live within himself; She was his life, The ocean to the river of his thoughts ... ~ Suzanne Enoch

Sula was distinctly different. Eva's arrogance and Hannah's self-indulgence merged in her and, with a twist that was all her own imagination, she lived out her days exploring her own thoughts and emotions, giving them full reign, feeling no obligation to please anybody unless their pleasure pleased her. As willing to feel pain as to give pain, to feel pleasure as to give pleasure, hers was an experimental life – ever since her mother's remarks sent her flying up those stairs, ever since her one major feeling of responsibility had been exorcised on the bank of a river with a closed place in the middle. The first experience taught her there was no other that you could count on; the second that there was no self to count on either. She had no center, no speck around which to grow. […] She was completely free of ambition, with no affection for money, property or things, no greed, no desire to command attention or compliments – no ego. For that reason she felt no compulsion to verify herself – be consistent with herself ~ Toni Morrison

Tan Chau lies on the Thanh Hoa canal, which sings with freedom as it flows into the Mekong River on its way to the sea. Only the wind and the water, which you cannot imprison, are truly free. ~ James D. Redwood

One afternoon late in October of the year 1697, Euclide Auclair, the philosopher apothecary of Quebec, stood on the top of Cap Diamant gazing down the broad, empty river far beneath him. ~ Willa Cather

He believed that every individual was responsible for his conduct on earth, that there was a judge within. Could even a blazingly Christ inflict greater retribution? Could Dante's Charon in his rowboat on the river Acheron whip the miscreants into a deeper, more everlasting hell than man's unvarnished verdict of himself? ~ Irving Stone

I surf; that's how I stay healthy - not because of the gym. ~ River Viiperi

I'll fill those canyons in your soul, like a river lead you home. And I'll walk a step behind, in the shadows so you shine. Just ask, it will be done and I will prove my love, until you're sure that I'm the one. ~ Gary Allan

The audible signals people can produce are not a series of crisp beeps like on a touch-tone phone. Speech is a river of breath, bent into hisses and hums by the soft flesh of the mouth and throat. ~ Steven Pinker

morning, a merchant loaded his donkey with bags of salt to go to the market in order to sell them. The merchant and his donkey were walking along together. They had not walked far when they reached a river on the road. Unfortunately, the donkey slipped and fell into the river and noticed that the bags of salt loaded on his back became lighter. ~ Tanveer Ahmed