Walking In The Shadows Quotes

They didn't understand, for we were Shakespeare, and they were mere actors in the play. ~ Cassandra Giovanni

I think he has a girlfriend? Not sure though, he just seems to be off limits to all women here - well you know the other single women teachers. Maybe he's gay?"
"I seriously doubt that one." I responded struggling not to laugh.
"That would be a serious punishment to women kind. I wonder what he looks like without that vest and tie teacher getup ... I bet he looks amazing naked."
"Holy crap Jaz!" I yelped, but I knew I was blushing. I knew what he looked like with his shirt off and it was damned good. ~ Cassandra Giovanni

Seconds seem like a life time when the life you lived is slowly drained out of you by those who care not what you felt, hoped, or dreamed. When the darkness comes it is all consuming, there is no light and there is no pain. It is the never ending loss of hope that now consumes me as I die in his arms. ~ Cassandra Giovanni

It had been a little over a year since the last murder; moreover it had been a year since I had run as quickly as legally possible from whom I had been. It had taken almost that long to become a legal adult, get the money straightened out and get my name changed. Who was Abigail? Who was Vera? I felt as though I was neither person. I felt like I wasn't a person at all anymore. ~ Cassandra Giovanni

Tad they were too young to die ... My Mom was a spitfire - a total accident waiting to happen. I'm like her - I can trip over nothing." Tad chuckled acknowledging the thought. "My father ... he was more serious. He used to give me lectures like no tomorrow, he had a strong sense of who I should be - who I wanted to be and how to guide me, and he was my best friend. It seems like everything I love is just out of my reach now. ~ Cassandra Giovanni

Where does your soul walk? Does it walk in the sunlit woods or hide in the shadowy forest? ~ Seth Adam Smith

The hole where my heart had finally grown back after the loss of my parents was returning because of the very person who had filled the void ~ Cassandra Giovanni

Another thing I like to do is sit back and take in nature. To look at the birds, listen to their singing, go hiking, camping and jogging and running, walking along the beach, playing games and sometimes being alone with the great outdoors. It's very special to me. ~ Larry Wilcox

The sad truth is that what I could recall in five seconds all too soon needed ten, then thirty, then a full minute - like shadows lengthening at dusk. Someday, I suppose, the shadows will be swallowed up in darkness. There is no way around it: my memory is growing ever more distant from the spot where Naoko used to stand - ever more distant from the spot where my old self used to stand. And nothing but scenery, that view of the meadow in October, returns again and again to me like a symbolic scene in a movie. Each time it appears, it delivers a kick to some part of my mind. "Wake up," it says. "I'm still here. Wake up and think about it. Think about why I'm still here." The kicking never hurts me. There's no pain at all. Just a hollow sound that echoes with each kick. And even that is bound to fade one day. ~ Haruki Murakami

The fear receded. It didn't disappear. It lurked in the shadows, its claws hooking into passing thoughts and twisting them, turning them from their purpose to its own. He held it back. It was the hardest fight of his life. ~ G.R. Matthews

She likes Hollywood best at night, in the quiet, when it's all dark leaves and shadows and night-blooming flowers, the edges softened, gently lit streets curving up into the hills. ~ Emily St. John Mandel

I've had problems with my eyes, and my legs hurt if I walk a great deal. That's due to very bad circulation. It's called claudication, and it's painful. So I have to stop if I'm walking, and pretending I'm looking in the window, so that I can rest them a little bit and then start off again. ~ Mary Tyler Moore

On one side hung a very large oil-painting so thoroughly besmoked, and every way defaced, that in the unequal cross-lights by which you viewed it, it was only by diligent study and a series of systematic visits to it, and careful inquiry of the neighbors, that you could any way arrive at an understanding of its purpose. such unaccountable masses of shades and shadows, that at first you almost thought some ambitious young artist, in the time of the New England hags, had endeavored to delineate chaos bewitched. But by dint of much and earnest contemplation, and oft repeated ponderings, and especially by throwing open the little window towards the back of the entry, you at last come to the conclusion that such an idea, however wild, might not be altogether unwarranted.

But what most puzzled and confounded you was a long, limber, portentous, black mass of something hovering in the centre of the picture over three blue, dim, perpendicular lines floating in a nameless yeast. A boggy, soggy, squitchy picture truly, enough to drive a nervous man distracted. Yet was there a sort of indefinite, half-attained, unimaginable sublimity about it that fairly froze you to it, till you involuntarily took an oath with yourself to find out what that marvellous painting meant. Ever and anon a bright, but, alas, deceptive idea would dart you through. - It's the Black Sea in a midnight gale. - It's the unnatural combat of the four primal elements. - It's a blasted heath. - It's a Hyperb ~ Herman Melville

Four p.m. is like a basement. Wholly innocent in theory. But if you really think about a basement, it is cement poured over restless earth. It has smelly, unfinished spaces, and wooden beams that cast too-sharp shadows. It is something that says almost, but not quite. Four p.m. feels that way, too. Almost, but not quite afternoon anymore. Almost, but not quite evening yet. And it is the way of magic and nightmares to choose those almost-but-not-quite moments and wait. ~ Roshani Chokshi

When we are constantly recreating our basic patterns of behavior and thought, we never have to leap into fresh air or onto fresh grass. Instead, we wrap ourselves in our own dark environment, where our only companion is the smell of our own sweat. In the cocoon, there is no dance, no walking or breathing. It is comfortable and sleepy, an intense and very familiar home. ~ Chogyam Trungpa

Remember the guy in the 80s walking around with a boombox on his shoulder? Why'd he do that? Because it told a story about who he was. Expressing yourself is big business. ~ Gary Vaynerchuk

The mantle of glamour has been taken from the women and given to the men. The women toil in their shadows, plain and ordinary-looking. So that transition has left a void. It is a void for drop-dead, impossible, over-the-top glamour. Supermodels fill that void. The only thing they have to do is work the runway, sweetie, and refuse to get out of bed for less than ten thousand dollars. ~ RuPaul

Do you think that guy's sweet on her?" I asked, pointing to the grey-spotted spider, momentarily forgetting my darker concerns.

"Most certainly." Seba grinned. "I do not think spiders know love as we do. But he remained by her side throughout the fighting and did not leave when she decided to stay. I think they wish to couple."

I smiled at the absurd notion of Madam Octa walking down an aisle in a tiny white dress, Mr. Crepsley waiting at the end to give her away. ~ Darren Shan

I wait in fear, as the shadows draw near, spreading over the sky, will I live or die? ~ H.G. Warrender

That is true. But nevertheless, you are like the prisoners in the cave, your legs and necks shackled by your maps and your walls so that all you can see is the shadows thrown by the fire on the wall of the cave. You think they are the truth, but they are only a shadow of the truth, which lies - " He gestured to the sky and the plain and the distant spiral curl that was the growing city of Sarai. " - out here, under the gaze of the sun and the moon and the stars. ~ Kate Elliott

Her whole body tenses, heaves, tries to scream, and her eyes burn with tears of frustration and terror.
In the moonlit shadows of her bedroom, she hears a cat begin to purr.
Kara runs, shaking, out into the short corridor.
The cats are black and white, ginger and gray, fat and starved. They sit on tables, on chairs, on tatami mats. One sits so still beside a lamp that it looks carved from wood. She wants her father, wants to go into his room and wake him, but three of them sit, barring his door.
As one, they follow her with their eyes as Kara weaves through the living room.
As one, they hiss.
As one, they begin to follow, stalking her. ~ Thomas Randall

The coming battle was waiting like a fox in the shadows. ~ Erin Hunter

Let us, just for a moment, look at the implications of that 'distress'. Severe depression affects more than 120 million people worldwide and more than 5 million in the UK. By 2020, according to the World Health Organisation, it will be one of the world's most debilitating conditions, second only to heart disease. Is that distress? Or is it a major illness? The danger in polite euphemisms is that they drive the condition underground. I constantly see people struggling with severe depression, clamping down on the pain so as not to bother anyone. I know how they minimise both themselves and the severity of their struggle. Mute, pale shadows, they are gagged by polite euphemisms and by misunderstanding. ~ Sally Brampton

Careful as they may be, developers of Eiffel libraries will always run into cases in which, after releasing a library class, they suddenly experience what in French is called esprit de l'escalier or wit of the staircase: a great thought which unfortunately is an afterthought, like a clever reply that would have stunned all the other dinner guests - if only you had thought of it before walking down the stairs after the party is over. ~ Bertrand Meyer

And if we can change things that have already happened if those planes can fly in uneasy formation if that splinter moon can blow away the shadows then anything, anything at all. ~ Jaclyn Moriarty

The sun is origin of both the dawn's light and birds' morning songs. The glow on the horizon is light filtered through our atmosphere; the music in the air is the sun's energy filtered through the plants and animals that powered the singing birds. The enchantment of an April sunrise is a web of flowing energy. The web is anchored at one end by matter turned to energy in the sun and at the other end by energy turned to beauty in our consciousness. April 22nd - Walking Seeds The springtime flush of flowers is over. ~ David George Haskell

He and I were walking hand in hand, just after we'd had sex for the first and only time - and right before we'd gone into battle against the cannibals.

'Bout to face shittier odds than I ever have, stone-cold sober, and I never felt so good. Is this what being at peace means? No damn wonder everyone wants to feel this way.

Evie glances up at me with those blue eyes, and she's so fucking beautiful I nearly trip over my feet. Her scent is honeysuckle, which means she's all but purring. Her lips curve, and that smile hits me harder than any punch. She's got no regrets.

Good. 'Cause I'm never letting her go. I might reach too high to have her, but she doan think so. I want to say something, to tell her how I feel about what we just did. Everything I think to say could be taken the wrong way.

So I squeeze her hand and keep it simple. "À moi, Evangeline." Mine.

She promises me: "Always."

And I believe her. ~ Kresley Cole

Unprotected by the army, the Mexican peasants were helpless to resist the Apache raiders, with scores carried off into captivity and hundreds more slaughtered. The desert now reclaimed the untilled fields. Cattle, sheep, mules, and goats wandered free only to fall prey to the great packs of wolves and coyotes that trailed the Apache raiding parties just as the raven shadows the predator on his rounds. Skeletons lined the roads, littered the burned haciendas, and were picked clean by scavengers in deserted villages. It was a perfect reign of terror. ~ Paul Andrew Hutton

At last everything was satisfactorily arranged, and I could not help admiring the setting: these mingled touches betrayed on a small scale the inspiration of a poet, the research of a scientist, the good taste of an artist, the gourmet's fondness for good food, and the love of flowers, which concealed in their delicate shadows a hint of the love of women ~ August Strindberg

I keep fit, I work out, I eat pretty damn well, I don't drink like a fish, and all of those things are tempered with a holistic mind-set that you need to damn well respect the vehicle that you're walking around in. ~ Mick Fleetwood

She took his verbal punches and she felt silenced under the mental prison that he had held her in. She looked perfect on the outside, but her body expressed her pain. Her soul was crystallized, permanently on survival-mode. He thought he was smart, but he had no idea that he was married to a lotus. She rose every time because she knew he could not take away her worth. She knew she was meant to have more. She loved herself through the horror, and regained her ability to keep walking, to keep breathing, to keep living. She rose peacefully like the lotus, elegant and full of class, untouched by his filthy, meaningless existence... and that had always left him powerless. ~ Karen A. Baquiran

I yearned for love, I prayed that love
Would soften a way to my heart.
To turn the sun where the shadows run
And banish the cold and the dark.
Yet all I am is a faint mirage
Fashioned in light of your dream;
Longing to love, and longing to leave,
Held forever by the walls unseen. ~ Juke Blue

All of us take offense to anyone who reaps the rewards of living in America without taking on the responsibilities of living in America. And undocumented immigrants who desperately want to embrace those responsibilities see little option but to remain in the shadows, or risk their families being torn apart. ~ Barack Obama

You watch her walking around, smiling, moving different than she moved before she went to him, and you know something happened up there that made her feel more alive than she ever felt before, that she got to be the way you hope you'll get to be with a man, even if it's just once in your life. A man has to see women a certain way for it to be that way. ~ Karen Marie Moning

Lots of shows are written completely in the writer's room. And I wouldn't say 'The Walking Dead' is that way. There are three levels to it. There's us in the room. The writers going off by themselves. And me working with the writers on a finished script. ~ Scott M. Gimple

In the mansion called literature I would have the eaves deep and the walls dark, I would push back into the shadows the things that come forward too clearly, I would strip away the useless decoration. I do not ask that this be done everywhere, but perhaps we may be allowed at least one mansion where we can turn off the electric lights and see what it is like without them. ~ Junichiro Tanizaki

I'm looking for you
in the bare corridor
where my shadow is the only passerby
harmonizing an unsettling whisper:
echoed through my chiming thoughts
From the poem 'Looking For You ~ Munia Khan

To Roam

Well, I like this world
Well, I like this world
Well, I like this world
I like it how it was
I pray how it was
I like it how it was

Ghosts in the rain
Cold walk of freedom
Well, I'm walking a hallway
I'm walking a hallway
I'm walking a hallway
Said, I'm walking a hallway
I'm walking a hallway
Well, I'm walking a hallway

I am proud and I'm gloried
Thinking 'bout the day what'll surely come
When on the scene, I'm smile evaded
When outta nowhere, I'm gonna run
But I know where I go, I will be gone

Somewhere to run to - if you see
You could see it through my mind
You wouldn't know it - no way
You'd know when my eyes roam
Through the fog and hail and sleet
I missed the snow and nowhere
Nowhere, nowhere, nowhere
You should've known where
Should've known where
You should've known where
Should've known better, baby

'Cause I like this world
And I like this world

Some people want to roam
Some people, they roam this world alone
Some people were born to roam
Some people they roam this world alone

Alone ~ Robert Pattinson

Bring awareness to each act. Walking on the road, walk fully alert; eating, eat with awareness. Whatsoever you are doing, don't let the past and the future interfere. Be in the present. That's what awareness is all about. ~ Rajneesh

Lines for Winter

Tell yourself
as it gets cold and gray falls from the air
that you will go on
walking, hearing
the same tune no matter where
you find yourself -
inside the dome of dark
or under the cracking white
of the moon's gaze in a valley of snow.
Tonight as it gets cold
tell yourself
what you know which is nothing
but the tune your bones play
as you keep going. And you will be able
for once to lie down under the small fire
of winter stars.
And if it happens that you cannot
go on or turn back
and you find yourself
where you will be at the end,
tell yourself
in that final flowing of cold through your limbs
that you love what you are. ~ Mark Strand

It's easy to pinpoint when it all started, that moment of walking into his sun-soaked classroom and feeling his eyes drink me in for the first time, but it's harder to know when it ended, if it really ended at all. I think it stopped when I was twenty-two, when he said he needed to get himself together and couldn't live a decent life while I was within reach, but for the past decade there have been late-night calls, him and me reliving the past, worrying the wound we both refuse to let heal. ~ Kate Elizabeth Russell

But finally I realized that to me, Godel and Escher and Bach were only shadows cast in different directions by some central solid essence. I tried to construct the central object, and came up with this book. ~ Douglas R. Hofstadter

Cities have always offered anonymity, variety, and conjunction, qualities best basked in by walking: one does not have to go into the bakery or the fortune-teller's, only to know that one might. A city always contains more than any inhabitant can know, and a great city always makes the unknown and the possible spurs to the imagination. ~ Rebecca Solnit

The great minds, which from time to time have existed in this world, were like doors thrown wide to understanding. I don't mean just their brilliance or philosophy or even psychology. I mean that the spoken words that have endured are those uttered by men who understood with their hearts.

No one on earth understands everything; that all-comprehensive function belongs to God alone. But we all try to understand a little. Most of us realize that too late. We look back and think: If only I'd tried to understand. Many failures in human relationships derive from this common failure.

Watching the birds flock to discuss their travels among the brilliant leaves, listening to the slow turning of the earth upon her axis, meditating on Nature herself, never uncertain no matter how uncertain her manifestations may be, I think of the instinct that sends the birds from one locality to another, of the lengthening shadows as we face toward autumn, and of the marvelous system that encourages the leaf to fall and nurture the soil. In the single flame of October it begins the lullaby that will put the roots of grass and flowers to sleep. This system, in the four seasons of my little world, will cover the ground with silent snow, and at a later date will shout that spring is coming and awaken sleepers to new life.

The sun in his glory, the moon in her phases, the stars in their courses, all these are part of the system; and Nature, turning the wheel of the seasons ~ Faith Baldwin

THE TWINS WERE eighteen months old now, walking (and standing and staring and screaming and sitting) just like other children more or less their age, and Andy found herself increasingly preoccupied with those baby scrapbooks her brother's wife had sent when they were born. Andy had gotten Janny's to the six-month mark - the last photo was of her sitting up in the baby bath with her fingers in her mouth. Richie's and Michael's - not even birth pictures. Birth pictures of the twins existed, but they reminded Andy more of mug shots than of baby photos, naked in incubators, little skinny limbs and odd heads, no hair except where it shouldn't be, on arms and back, like monkeys. She had stuffed the scrapbooks onto the upper shelf in the closet in Richie and Michael's room, and every time she slid open that door, she would see their spines, white, pink, and blue, the silliest objects in her very modern house, ready to get thrown out. ~ Jane Smiley

But I love it up here. There is a certain allure to this place, some dark, shameful part of me that thrills at the beauty of death and decay."
Walking arm in arm with the Countess, I understood what she meant. The notion of finding death and decay beautiful should have sounded ridiculous and morbid, yet it resonated with me with a sort of romance of its own. ~ S. Jae-Jones

Struggling transforms her captor into a Chinese finger trap. She's suffocating. Sucking in air without relief. Her lungs expand. Contract. Expand. They fill with lies and broken promises. With despair and lost hope. Each inhale is empty. Invisible hands reach into her body and constrict around her windpipe. She watches her friends collapse like supernovae, their cognizance disappearing into a black hole. A black hole she's quickly cascading into. The dark consumes, bleeds into her vision. She blinks. Catches icy blue eyes peeking out from the shadows. ~ Laura Kreitzer

You can't be living always in the promise of the clouds; it must rain now. Leave the talking and live by walking ... It will yield an indelible impact! ~ Israelmore Ayivor

I would never change having loved your mother. In fact, I should have never hidden it, because it's only when things remain in the shadows that they have the power to be used against one. The lesson I learned far too late is one I hope you'll embrace - live your life as if everyone will discover what you do and who you are. If no one holds your secrets, there's nothing to compel you to make choices that are not your own. - Will Shaw ~ April White

Different moves make different sounds - the steady tread of someone walking, the scrape of shifting feet, the patter of someone in a hurry - and with practice you can learn to filter them, picking out the ones that don't fit in. It's nothing to do with magic, just simple awareness, a primal skill that anyone can learn but which most people in the modern age have forgotten. But anyone who lives as a predator or a prey learns it fast. ~ Benedict Jacka

Miss Haxby, I thought, gazed at the plodding women with a kind of satisfaction. 'See how they know their places,' she said. 'There must be kept a certain distance, look, between each prisoner.' If that distance is breached, the offending woman is reported and loses privileges. If there are women who are old or sick or feeble, or if there are very young girls - 'We have had girls in the past - haven't we, Miss Ridley? - of twelve and thirteen' - then the matron sets them walking in a circle of their own. ~ Sarah Waters

How do I look in the dark?"
Startled, Arin glanced at him. The question had had no edges. It wasn't sleek, either. Its soft, uncertain shape suggested that Roshar truly wanted to know. In the fired red shadows, his limbs looked lax and his mutilated face met Arin's squarely. The heavy feeling that Arin carried - that specific sadness, nestled just below his collar bone, like a pendant - lessened. He said, "Like my friend."
Roshar didn't smile. When he spoke, his voice matched his expression, which was rare for him. Rarer still: his tone. Quiet and true. "You do, too. ~ Marie Rutkoski

Angels appear to transcend all cultures, races, and systems. They are a part of human history and civilization, sometimes at the forefront, other times in the shadows, but they are always there. They don't belong to any one particular religion, although many modern people try to associate them with Christianity, Judaism, and Islam. No one religion holds total responsibility for the belief in angels. In truth, these religions only support the existence of angels, they didn't create them. ~ Silver RavenWolf