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Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year

Book by Richelle E. Goodrich · 18 quotes · Richelle, Richelle Goodrich, Richelle E Goodrich

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Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year Quotes

“If I could have one friend, just one in all the world, I know that I would not seek out a boy or pretty girl. The friend I’d dare to choose to stand by me each day would be a dragon fierce enough to scare the world away.”

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Book:Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year
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“My favorite words in the world are these: “what” and “if” in conjunction. They question curiosities in simple form and function. “What” is a query of broadest scope. “If" is wonder that fuels all hope. Together they lasso the mind like rope, and spur the wildest deductions!”

PoetryHopeImaginationPoemCuriosityRichelle GoodrichWhat IfRichelle E GoodrichRichelleDeductionsImagining
Book:Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year
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“Death lurks in the shadows, just out of view. Now and then I see his reaching hand, uncertain of the blurry image that passes before my eyes, but conscious of the crippling influence of his touch. Some say Death rears an ugly head, so hideous a view the beholder can scarcely gasp their last breath. Others call him beautiful, a sweet relief to look upon. But these are rumors babbled by the unknowing. For Death is like the gorgon, Medusa, who when perceived, turns the body to stone. Those who know Death take the knowledge of his shadowed face with them to wherever it is he leads our dearly departed by the hand. All who are left behind must wait their turn to glance into the eyes of the one who will close our mouths forever.”

LifeDeathPoetryDyingPoemRichelle GoodrichRichelle E GoodrichRichellePassing OnEnd Of Mortality
Book:Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year
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“Such a nasty bruise,” he says, staring straight into my eyes. I am stunned he can see it. Delicate to the touch and tender on every side, the bruise is deeper than days. My hand automatically moves to my chest. Science taught me with valid assurance that my heart was fixed in my rib cage, but life has since shown me otherwise. My heart in fact dangles from a tangle of strings. The ends are grasped tight by numerous people who yank and release, having caused many painful bruises over time. I cry because they are invisible to most. “Such a nasty bruise,” he repeats, tugging on my poor heart. His kind eyes fall away from mine as I feel a squeeze on my arm. He twists it enough to show me a small, round patch of purple surrounded by a sickly yellowish corona. “Oh. My elbow.” I let the air exhale from my lungs. Another bruise forms where my heart has hit the floor. It is jerked up again. “Can I do anything for you?” I see in his eyes the mirror image of a finger—his finger—wrapped in one of the dangling strings. He tugs and I feel it. “No,” I reply to his question. But it is a lie. There is something he could do, along with all who grasp a portion of the web entangling my heart. I wish they would mercifully let go.”

HeartPoetryPoemEmotionsSensitiveHeartacheRichelle GoodrichRichelle E GoodrichRichelleSensitivityHeart QuotesBruise
Book:Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year
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“If I were to sit on the ocean floor and look toward the sky, I might see a whale or electric eel or octopus pass by. And if I decided to jump straight up and reach with open arms, I might feel the pleasure of ocean flight propel me ’mid their swarms. But if I were seated upon the shore and looking toward the stars, I might see a comet or falling star near Mercury or Mars. Then if I decided to jump straight up and reach with open hands, I might feel despair when my feet refused to leave the shoreline sand. And so I return to the ocean depths where swimming creatures fly, For there I can soar with the whales and fish that daily touch the sky.”

PoetryStarsSkyOceanFlyingRichelle GoodrichPoemsRichelle E GoodrichRichelleFlySoaringOcean Waters
Book:Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year
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“Life is the season for loving and caring, for laughing and caroling, giving and sharing. Christmas is meant for the same, people say, which makes life like Christmastime every day.”

LifeGivingPoetryChristmasRichelle GoodrichRichelle E GoodrichRichelleSharingChristmastimePoem In Your Pocket DayCarolingChristmas Every Day
Book:Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year
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“Not every day is awful. Not every day is good. Despite the way the hours pass, I’m living like I should. Not every day is all wrong. Not every day is right. At least I’m not a spider trying to scamper out of sight. Not every day is ideal. Not every day is bad. At any rate I have my senses, even if they’re mad. Not every day is happy. Not every day is glum. When melancholy drags me down, a simple tune I hum. Not every day I smile. Not every day I frown. With effort, I can take a scowl and turn it upside down. Not every day is crazy. Not every day is sane. If consequence nips at my heels I don’t pass on the blame. Not every day is giddy. Not every day is blah. Yet I can still appreciate a giggle and guffaw. Not every day is timid. Not every day is proud. I may not be a dragon, but I roar about as loud. Not every day has rainbows. Not every day has rain. Despite the fact I’m stiff and sore, I’m not in chronic pain. On every day the sun shines, so every night I pray that I might see the morning light and live another day.”

LifePoetryLife QuotesPoemRichelle GoodrichRichelle E GoodrichRichelleDaysGood DaysAwful Days
Book:Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year
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“I scared a little porcupine and caught a quill in my behind. It hurt so badly in my tail, but tugging on it made me yell. The porcupine was still around, so I complained. He simply frowned and said, "Stop whining! Look and see how many quills are stuck on me!”

PoetryAttitudePerspectivePoemRichelle GoodrichRichelle E GoodrichRichelleLooking On The Bright Side
Book:Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year
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“I slay dragons at night while you sleep. I see by the way your face contorts how they exist in your dreams. Willing a magic sword, I plunge into your deepest nightmares and swing at the beasts with all my might, dodging flames exhaled by monsters that would eat me alive to go on torturing the fair one I love. I see your face relax, eyes still drowsily closed, when the mighty dragon is slain. It may be that my fingers rub soft circles on your forehead as I imagine my brave fight as a knight reclaiming your dreams. You smile under the spell of my touch, and I am rewarded. And so, my love, as I await the dawn, I stand ready to slay dragons while you sleep.”

LovePoetryPoemRichelle GoodrichDragonsRichelle E GoodrichRichelleSlaying DragonsDragonslayer
Book:Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year
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“A dragon grows in leaps and bounds, Like troubles mounting by the pound. Its stature heightens day to day, Imposing dread and deep dismay. A paralyzing roar it gains While from its snout hot fire rains. It sees you shrink. Your fear it knows. And by the hour the nightmare grows. Unless you slay the dragon soon, Your troubles may become your doom.”

PoetryPoemRichelle GoodrichDragonsRichelle E GoodrichRichelleFearsTroublesSlaying Dragons
Book:Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year
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“Sound. Noise the air employs. Melodies sweet. Tweet, tweet, tweet. Soft. Loud. A roaring crowd. Cluck. Caw. Crow. Tet, tet. Tis, tis. Guttural growl. Harrowing howl. Drip, drip, drip. Tap, tap, tap. Moan and groan. Endless drone. Ding, dang, dong. A church bell song. Vibrations in my ear to hear. Sound.”

PoetrySoundPoemHearingNoiseRichelle GoodrichPoemsRichelle E GoodrichRichelleNoises
Book:Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year
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“Before the Dawn In the darkest night the sun may seem like an extinguished match or an ember drowned by rain. A light forever lost. The cold world grows steadily colder and shrinks like the abused, closing in on all sides. Laughter, smiles, the glimmer of dancing eyes, and all else indicative of human brightness is gone. Colors leeched from everything leave shadows and emotion dull-gray in their absence. Time is a void. A moment feels eternal. Hope does not blossom in the darkness but withers fast, starving for what only the sun can offer. As its petals turn to dust, fear blows in and sweeps the remnants away. The soul succumbs by degrees to nightmares emboldened by the dead of night. All is lost! All is lost! The wretched sun, repulsed by our nothingness, has abandoned the lives in its care! And then the eyes open wide, seeing mountains take shape on the horizon.”

PoetryNightFearDarknessSunPoemDawnRichelle GoodrichRichelle E GoodrichRichelleHopelessnessDiscouragementDead Of NightBefore The Dawn
Book:Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year
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