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B Quotes

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All B Quotes

“Brushing past me on his way out he smelled like musk. Like something Louise called an animalic, the scent from the gland of a male deer. He turned around in the middle of the hallway. "My name's Gabriel, I thought you should know since I've been inside of your grandmother's house." Like the archangel, I thought, the impact of Loretta's Catholicism making a rare appearance in my mind. I made a mental note to look up the angel Gabriel and see what deeds he had done to deserve his angel status. When Gabriel was gone his glandular scent, earthy and sweet, lingered in the room. I remembered Louise telling me that a good scent should not smell like a perfume, but like nature itself, including all aspects of the natural world, dark and animal as well as light and floral. "Love includes the bad as well as the good," she'd said, "the evil as well as the kind, and so should the scent that induces it.”

“Brusque erratic Vernal Equinox. Newly meaningful and reflective Passover. Upcoming still, Easter and the Rites of Eostre.b All stories of renewal, revelation, redemption, resurrection, rebirth. We may feel them all beyond our grasp right now as much denied our fingers' reach as feels the sun and those delicious spring breezes, but the natural world holds its own trajectory and we must learn from its cycles and its fortitude. Return to us, warmth and light, long days, migrating birds. Reveal yourselves, new buds, first leaves, animals rubbing your eyes from the long winter's sleep inside your burrows, evolving insects emerging from your cocoons. Return, reveal, renew, open, feel the bittersweet crisp winds ready to carry you through whatever is to come. Whatever is to come, take wing and fly ...”

“Brutalidad de profesaurios, pecadillos de puñeteros pedagogos, como cuando insisten en comparar trabajo y calidad, como si un soneto de Lorca, cuento de Marcial Suárez, aforismo de Bernardo Soares o relato de media página de Kafka no valiese infinitamente más que cualquier novela suya de cuatrocientas páginas.”

“Brutalist architecture was Modernism's angry underside, and was never, much as some would rather it were, a mere aesthetic style. It was a political aesthetic, an attitude, a weapon, dedicated to the precept that nothing was too good for ordinary people. Now, after decades of neglect, it's devided between 'eyesores' and 'icons'; fine for the Barbican's stockbrokers but unacceptable for the ordinary people who were always its intended clients.”

“Brutality is never temporary. It does not respect the boundaries set for it, and so it is natural that brutality will spread, first corrupting art, then life. Then, out of the misfortunes and bloodshed of humankind, we see born insignificant literature, frivolous newspapers, photographed portraits, and youth-club plays in which hatred replaces religion. Art then ends up in forced optimism, which is precisely the worst of indulgences, and the most pathetic of lies.”

“Brute force crushes many plants. Yet the plants rise again. The Pyramids will not last a moment compared with the daisy. And before Buddha or Jesus spoke the nightingale sang, and long after the words of Jesus and Buddha are gone into oblivion the nightingale still will sing. Because it is neither preaching nor commanding nor urging. It is just singing. And in the beginning it was not a Word, but a chirrup.”

“Brutes abstract not. -- If it may be doubted, whether beasts compound and enlarge their ideas, that way, to any degree; this, I think, I may be positive in, that the power of abstracting is not at all in them; and that the having of general ideas is that which puts a perfect distinction betwixt man and brutes, and is an excellency which the faculties of brutes do by no means attain to.”

“Brutes find out where their talents lie; A bear will not attempt to fly, A foundered horse will oft debate Before he tries a five barred gate. A dog by instinct turns aside Who sees the ditch too deep and wide, But man we find the only creature Who, led by folly, combats nature; Who, when she loudly cries-Forbear! With obstinacy fixes there; And where the genius least inclines, Absurdly bends his whole designs.”

“Brutes gaze on sights, they are arrested by sounds; and what they see and what they hear are sights and sounds only. The intellectof man, on the contrary, energises as well as his eye or ear, and perceives in sights or sounds something beyond them. It seizes and unites what the senses present to it; it grasps and forms what need not be seen or heard except in detail. It discerns in lines and colors, or in tones, what is beautiful and what is not. It gives them a meaning, and invests them with an idea.”

“Bryan pressed her closer against him and placed her arms to circle his neck from behind. He moved a little faster and Zahara fell into step, laying her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes to drown out the crowd. She focused on the hard muscles of Bryan’s chest, his heated breath against her hair, and his fingers gripping her waist. She absently wondered if it was wrong that an angel was dancing inside of a club full of youth, and if this was as weird and exhilarating for him as it was for her. Bryan spun her around to face him and kissed her. He wasn’t as gentle as he usually was, digging his hand into her hair and nibbling on her bottom lip. Zahara whimpered and moved her fingers underneath his shirt, digging her fingers into his back. ~Zahara and Bryan”