Violet Trace Quotes

We women, me and you. Tell me something real. Don't just say I'm grown and ought to know. I don't. I'm fifty and I don't know nothing. What about it? Do I stay with him? I want to, I think. I want ... well, I didn't always ... now I want. I want some fat in this life."
"Wake up. Fat or lean, you got just one. This is it."
"You don't know either, do you?"
"I know enough to know how to behave."
"Is that it? Is that all it is?"
"Is that all what is?"
"Oh shoot! Where the grown people? Is it us?"
"Oh, Mama." Alice Manfred blurted it out and then covered her mouth.
Violet had the same thought: Mama. Mama? Is this where you got to and couldn't do it no more? The place of shade without trees where you know you are not and never again will be loved by anybody who can choose to do it? Where everything is over but the talking?
- Violet Trace and Alice Manfred ~ Toni Morrison

You know perfectly well that if ever you really want to, you can come back to me, he said without the slightest trace of irony and cynicism, and left. ~ Ama Ata Aidoo

Nothing matters but the quality of the affection - in the end - that has carved the trace in the mind dove ~ Mary Karr

I'm scared," she told him softly, her voice wobbling. "Every time I love, I get hurt."
"Sometimes love is about hurting, Violet." He brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheeks, dashing away her tears. "But the pleasure in love is greater than the pain. So much greater. You just have to be willing to take that leap. ~ Jessica Clare

Sophie Scholl faced her own death with supreme fearlessness and a deep faith in her moral, political and religious convictions. She showed that brutal dictatorships can only be averted through the courage and resistance of all citizens. She walked towards the guillotine calmly and with no trace of fear, believing that what she had done was the right thing to do. There have been many brave indiviuals in history. Sophie Scholl walks alongside the very bravest of them all. A white rose that will never die - with a profound message: FREEDOM
Please pass Sophie's message on. ~ Frank McDonough

Nihil Relinquere et Nihil Vestigi.
It says 'to leave nothing behind and no trace. ~ Roxanne St. Claire

When Barrons looks at me like that, it rattles me. Lust, in those ancient, obsidian eyes, offers no trace of humanity. Doesn't even bother trying. Savage Mac wants to invite it to come out and play. I think she's nuts. Nuts, I tell you. ~ Karen Marie Moning

XXVII"

Naked, you are simple as a hand,
smooth, earthy, small...transparent, round.
You have moon lines and apple paths;
Naked, you are slender as the wheat.

Naked, Cuban blue midnight is your color,
Naked, I trace the stars and vines in your hair;
Naked, you are spacious and yellow
As a summer's wholeness in a golden church.

Naked, you are tiny as your fingernail;
Subtle and curved in the rose-colored dawn
And you withdraw to the underground world

As if down a long tunnel of clothing and of chores:
your clear light dims, gets dressed, drops its leaves,
And becomes a naked hand again. ~ Pablo Neruda

Only yonder magnificent pine-tree ... holds her unchanging beauty throughout the year, like her half-brother, the ocean, whose voice she shares; and only marks the flowing of her annual tide of life by the new verdure that yearly submerges all trace of last year's ebb. ~ Thomas Wentworth Higginson

The river of his youth had been diverted and poured out broadly across the land to seep through dirt to the roots of crops instead of running in its bed. The river was no longer a river, and the desert was no longer a desert. Nothing was as it had been.
He knew what had happened to the sagelands. He himself had helped burn them. Then men like his father had seized the river without a trace of evil in their hearts, sure of themselves but ignorant, and children of their time entirely, with no other bearings to rely on. Irrigators and fruit-tree growers, they believed the river to be theirs. His own life spanned that time and this, and so he believed in the old fast river as much as he believed in apple orchards, and yet he saw that the two were at odds, the river defeated that apples might grow as far as Royal Slope. It made no more sense to love the river and at the same time kill it growing apples than it made sense to love small birds on the wing and shoot them over pointing dogs. But he'd come into the world in another time, a time immune to these contradictions and in the end he couldn't shake old ways any more than he could shake his name. ~ David Guterson

There," he said, admiring his own handiwork. "Good as new."
Violet glanced at the ridiculously huge Band-Aids on her knees and looked at him doubtfully. "You really think so? 'Good as new'?"
He smiled. "I think I did pretty good. It's not my fault you can't walk."
She narrowed her eyes at him. She wanted to tell him that it was his fault, that she would never have tripped if he'd just stayed the same old Jay he'd always been, gangly and childlike. But she knew that she was being irrational. He was bound to grow up eventually; she'd just never imagined that he'd grow up so well. Instead she accused him: "Well, maybe if you hadn't pushed me I wouldn't have fallen." She made the outlandish accusation with a completely straight face.
He shook his head. "You'll never be able to prove it. There were no witnesses-it's just your word against mine."
She giggled and hopped down. "Yeah, well, who's gonna believe you over me? Weren't you the one who shoplifted a candy bar from the Safeway?" She limped over to the sink while she taunted him with her words, and she washed the dirt from the minor scrapes on her palms.
"Whatever! I was seven. And I believe you were the one who handed it to me and told me to hide it in my sleeve. Technically that makes you the mastermind of that little operation, doesn't it?" He came up behind her, and reaching around her, he poured some of the antibacterial wash onto her hands.
She was taken completely off guard by the inti ~ Kimberly Derting

A thought, no matter how small and forgotten, always has an eternal impact on the Cosmos. Most times, we can only see the material and just about beyond the immediate, but if we could trace this thought through all Creation... well, it would be a whole universe in itself. ~ Adriano Bulla

Are you sure you're okay, Taylor? Say something . . . normal." He gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, being careful to avoid the bump on her head.
Taylor stared up into Jason's amazing blue eyes. He really was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen.
With great effort, she pulled herself out of the dreamy depths of the Sexiest Eyes Alive and somehow managed a casual smile. She knew she should at least thank him for coming for her.
But then she noticed something she had somehow missed earlier. She peered more closely at Jason. "Wait a second - are you wearing makeup?"
Oh yes, there it was - a little trace of powder dusted across his face. And was that a smudge of eyeliner along his bottom lid . . . ?
This was too precious.
Taylor raised an eyebrow teasingly. "Gee, Jason, it's just a hospital - you really didn't need to get all gussied up."
And with that, Jason smiled. He turned to the doctor, finally satisfied.
"Okay. She's fine. ~ Julie James

Listen," I commanded, tightening my grip around her body. "I wouldn't take away one moment with you. I wouldn't take away my decision to leave you, because in the end, it was the right thing to do. I will always save you. You need to know that ... I will always choose you over me. Even if that means walking away, even if that means letting you and Chase be together. Trace, if it means that for the rest of my life all I have to live off of are the memories of your kiss? I would do it. Because it's never been about me, but you and what I can do for you." - Nixon ~ Rachel Van Dyken

I've always been a slow learner in some areas of my life.mostly the areas known as myself. Or maybe I should say 'selves.'because the fact is, I've never, even as a child, felt I'm only one self, only one person. I've always felt I'm quite a few more than one. For example, there's my jokey self, there's my morose and fed-up self,there's my lewd and disgusting self. There's my clever-clogs self, and my fading-violet-who-cant-make-up-her-mind-about-anything self. There's my untidy-clothes-everywhere-all-over-my-room self, and my manically tidy self when I want my room to be minimalist and Zen to the nth degree. There's my confidant, arrogant self and my polite and reasonable and good listener self. There's my self-righteous self and my wickedly bad self, my flaky self and my bsentimental self. There are selfs I like and selfs I don't like.there's my little-girl selfnwhonlikes to play silly games and there's my old-woman self when I'm quite sure I'm eighty and edging towards geriatric.
The self I show in action at any moment depends on where I am, who I'm with, the circumstances of the situation and the mood I'm in. ~ Aidan Chambers

They're meat with a trace amount of instinct reverberation, which makes them suited to event planning. ~ Matt Wallace

My life's long radiant Summer halts at last, And lo! beside my path way I behold Pursuing Autumn glide: nor frost nor cold Has heralded her presence; but a vast Sweet calm that comes not till the year has passed Its fevered solstice, and a tinge of gold Subdues the vivid colouring of bold And passion-hued emotions. I will cast My August days behind me with my May, Nor strive to drag them into Autumn's place, Nor swear I hope when I do but remember. Now violet and rose have had their day, I'll pluck the soberer asters with good grace And call September nothing but September. ~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Whoever compels you to go one mile, go with him two." Matthew 5:41 Our Lord's teaching can be summed up in this: the relationship that He demands for us is an impossible one unless He has done a supernatural work in us. Jesus Christ demands that His disciple does not allow even the slightest trace of resentment in his heart when faced with tyranny and injustice. ~ Oswald Chambers

Bellis gasped.
Everywhere lights where suspended. Globes of cold illumination like frost moons, with no trace of the sepia of the New Crobuzon's gaslamps. The city glowed in the darkening water like a net full of ghostly lights.
The outer edges of the city were low buildings in porous stone and coral. ~ China Mieville

In the first place, he is a gentleman," continued Violet. "Then he is a man of spirit. And then he has not too much spirit; - not that kind of spirit which makes some men think that they are the finest things going. His manners are perfect; - not Chesterfieldian, and yet never offensive. He never browbeats any one, and never toadies any one. He knows how to live easily with men of all ranks, without any appearance of claiming a special status for himself. If he were made Archbishop of Canterbury to-morrow, I believe he would settle down into the place of the first subject in the land without arrogance, and without false shame. ~ Anthony Trollope

I've been trying to redefine fragrance since I was a child - before I was ten. Throughout my life, certain fragrance notes have captured my imagination - especially liquorice, violet and anise, flooding back into my consciousness. ~ Lolita Lempicka

For the earliest period of the history of Israel, all that precedes the building of the temple, not a trace can be found of any sanctuary of exclusive legitimacy. ~ Julius Wellhausen

I avoid the looming visitor,
Flee him adroitly around corners,
Hating him, wishing him well;

Lest if he confront me I be forced to say what is in no wise true:
That he is welcome; that I am unoccupied;
And forced to sit while the potted roses wilt in the crate or the sonnet cools

Bending a respectful nose above such dried philosophies
As have hung in wreaths from the rafters of my house since I was a child.

Some trace of kindliness in this, no doubt,
There may be.
But not enough to keep a bird alive.

There is a flaw amounting to a fissure
In such behaviour. ~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

Forget about that and kiss me," I say.
I weave my hands in her hair. She wraps her arms around my neck as I trace the valley between her lips with my tongue. Parting her lips, I deepen the kiss. It's like a tango, first moving slow and rhythmic and then, when we're both panting and our tongues collide, the kiss turns into a hot, fast dance I never want to end. Carmen's kisses may have been hot, but Brittany's are more sensual, sexy, and extremely addictive.
We're still in the car, but it's cramped and the front seats don't give us enough room. Before I know it, we've moved to the backseat. Still not ideal, but I hardly notice.
I'm so getting into her moans and kisses and hands in my hair. And the smell of vanilla cookies. I'm not going to push her too far tonight. But without thinking, my hand slowly moves up her bare thigh.
"It feels so good," she says breathlessly.
I lean her back while my hands explore on their own. My lips caress the hollow of her neck as I ease down the strap to her dress and bra. In response, she unbuttons my shirt. When it's open, her fingers roam over my chest and shoulders, searing my skin.
"You're . . . perfect," she pants.
Right now I'm not gonna argue with her. Moving lower, my tongue follows a path down to her silky skin exposed to the night air. She grabs the back of my hair, urging me on. She tastes so damn good. Too good. !Caramelo!
I pull away a few inches and capture her gaze with mine, those shining ~ Simone Elkeles

She stalked down the short hallway, reached the door, pushed aside the bolt that secured it, twisted the lock, and then wrenched it open, her temper steadily rising when she looked at Oliver and found him smiling back at her, although his eyes held a distinct trace of temper.
"What?"
"Is that anyway to greet your fiance? ~ Jen Turano

To write: to try meticulously to retain something, to cause something to survive; to wrest a few precise scraps from the void as it grows, to leave somewhere a furrow, a trace, a mark or a few signs. ~ Georges Perec

Buck ambles out of the locker room with a towel draped across his bare shoulders and his hockey pants on, thank the Lord. The amount of fur he sports makes him resemble a matted yeti. ~ Helena Hunting

Violet
232 books | 49 friends
see comment history Black for hunting through the night

For death and mourning the color's white

Gold for a bride in her wedding gown

And red to call enchantment down.

White silk when our bodies burn,

Blue banners when the lost return.

Flame for the birth of a Nephilim,

And to wash away our sins.

Gray for knowledge best untold,

Bone for those who don't grow old.

Saffron lights the victory march,

Green will mend our broken hearts.

Silver for the demon towers,

And bronze to summon wicked powers. ~ Cassandra Clare

There's nothing simpler than avoiding people you don't like. Avoiding one's friends, that's the real test. ~ Lady Violet

What a joy is there in a good book, writ by some great master of thought, who breaks into beauty as in summer the meadow into grass and dandelions and violets, with geraniums and manifold sweetness. ~ Theodore Parker

Out of this city marched armies that seemed to be great, and afterwards were when glory had magnified them.
As the years went by, an occasional soldier returned, and with a foreign trace to his speech, told tales of what had happened to him in places called Ituzaingo or Ayacucho.
These things, now, are as if they had never been.
Martin Fierro ~ Jorge Luis Borges

Who else can walk around in a suit like that and then disappear without a trace?"
"That's easy," Granuaile replied. "Keyser Söze." She blew on the tips of her fingers. "Poof. He's gone. ~ Kevin Hearne

My place is the Placeless, my trace is the Traceless ;
'Tis neither body nor soul, for I belong to the soul of the Beloved.
I have put duality away, I have seen that the two worlds are one;
One I seek, One I know, One I see, One I call. ~ Rumi

I need you, need you
Since you left me if you see me with another girl
Seeming like I'm having fun
Although she may be cute
She's just a substitute
Because you're the permanent one
So take a good look at my face
You'll see my smile looks out of place
If you look closer, it's easy to trace
The tracks of my tears
I need you, need you
Outside I'm masquerading
Inside my hope is fading
Just a clown oh yeah
Since you put me down
My smile is my make up
i wear my since my 1st breakup.

sahi ~ Lovelace

If God created our will, then he's responsible for every choice we make ... So
as I recall, the official philosophical answer is that free will doesn't exist. Only the illusion of free will, because the causes of hour behavior are so complex that we can't trace them back. If you've got one line of dominoes knocking each other down, one by one, then you can always say, look, this domino fell because that one pushed it. But when you have an infinite number of dominoes that can be traced back in an infinite number of directions, you can never find where the causal chain begins. So you think, That domino fell because it wanted to ... Even if there is no such thing as free will, we have to treat each other as if there were free will in order to live together in society. ~ Orson Scott Card

You dare glamour me? he growled, his violet eyes burning as they bore into my own. Lucien just pressed me harder into the wall. ~ Sarah J. Maas

Say whatever is in your heart," Violet said. Her lips
twisted wryly. "And if that doesn't work, I suggest that
you take a book and knock him over the head with it."
Hyacinth blinked, then blinked again. "I beg your pardon."
"I didn't say that," Violet said quickly.
Hyacinth felt herself smile. "I'm rather certain you
did."
"Do you think?" Violet murmured, concealing her own
smile with her teacup.
"A large book," Hyacinth queried, "or small?"
"Large, I think, don't you?"
Hyacinth nodded. "Have we The Complete Works of
Shakespeare in the library?"
Violet's lips twitched. "I believe that we do."
Something began to bubble in Hyacinth's chest. Something
very close to laughter. And it felt so good to feel it
again.
"I love you, Mother," she said, suddenly consumed by
the need to say it aloud. "I just wanted you to know that."
"I know, darling," Violet said, and her eyes were shining
brightly. "I love you, too. ~ Julia Quinn

I looked into his sandy brown eyes, at one with the hair. At the business- like outward presentation of the man who daily printed sneers, innuendo, distrust and spite and spoke without showing a trace of them. 'Off the record,' I said,'bash his face in'. ~ Dick Francis