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Archangel Quotes

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Archangel Quotes

“In The Archangel Raphael Leaving Tobias' Family, Rembrandt leaves dirt on the shadowed soles of Raphael's feet as he flies off, illuminated in glory. Passing by the painting, one sees the dramatic action, the melodramatic emotions, and the re-created narrative events of the Bible. Slowed down a bit, the viewer sees light across a large muscular calf, a strong and sharply shaped ankle, and then dirty feet. The angel who tells us he only pretended to eat - this to explain away all traces of his apparent earthliness as a fallen creaturely being - is here on the canvas with dirty feet, carrying soil, the created, to the creator. Van Gogh had rightly said there are mysteries in these paintings. They are mysteries of device and design, not of messianic significance. They require a docent and not a priest, a creative critic to guide the view of specific images, not a guardian of mysteries and master of their enigmatic authority. Dirty feet on the soles of an archangel famous for his annunciations give the viewer a point of view on the inescapably human nature of the narrated God. Raphael may no eat. He may believe he creates an illusion to satisfy the religious desire for mythological consistency, but even archangels deceive themselves as well as others. Humans sometimes do the same in inventing the transcendence they need or think they want - creating a regime from which the priestly classes rule, even theorizing the alienation of the divine. Deceit is an essential device of cultural adaptation. It constructs needed beliefs that at high and low levels of thought or action complement their existence with modes of self-defense, which protect them from not only needed analysis but also the importance of failure.”

LaughterArchangelRaphaelRembrandtCatastrophists
Book:Love's Shadow
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“It was a gorgeous evening, with a breeze shimmering through the trees, people strolling hand in hand through the quaint streets and the plaza. The shops, bistros and restaurants were abuzz with patrons. She showed him where the farmer's market took place every Saturday, and pointed out her favorite spots- the town library, a tasting room co-op run by the area vintners, the Brew Ha-Ha and the Rose, a vintage community theater. On a night like this, she took a special pride in Archangel, with its cheerful spirit and colorful sights. She refused to let the Calvin sighting drag her down. He had ruined many things for her, but he was not going to ruin the way she felt about her hometown. After some deliberation, she chose Andaluz, her favorite spot for Spanish-style wines and tapas. The bar spilled out onto the sidewalk, brightened by twinkling lights strung under the big canvas umbrellas. The tables were small, encouraging quiet intimacy and insuring that their knees would bump as they scooted their chairs close. She ordered a carafe of local Mataro, a deep, strong red from some of the oldest vines in the county, and a plancha of tapas- deviled dates, warm, marinated olives, a spicy seared tuna with smoked paprika. Across the way in the plaza garden, the musician strummed a few chords on his guitar. The food was delicious, the wine even better, as elemental and earthy as the wild hills where the grapes grew. They finished with sips of chocolate-infused port and cinnamon churros. The guitar player was singing "The Keeper," his gentle voice seeming to float with the breeze.”

RestaurantsCafesArchangelFood And WineIsabel And CormacChurrosStreet Music
Book:The Beekeeper's Ball
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“Where are we heading?” “The closest wooded area to here is Kenwood Academy’s estate. Good place to hide, especially at night.” “If we’re going into the woods, I definitely need to change.” I glanced back at her as we returned to the curb where the cab had dropped us off. “Or you could just go home.” She crossed her arms and avoided my gaze, scowling. “You’re sick of me already? That must be a record.” I lifted my eyes to the heavens. Women. “This creature tore out a woman’s throat and busted her chest cavity open like a piñata. I don’t like the thought of it being anywhere near you.” “Did it ever occur to you that I feel the same way?” Surprise flooded over me. “No, it…actually didn’t.” “I know I’m not as strong or as smart as you are, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help. We’re partners, aren’t we?” “Yeah,” I said, and couldn’t stop the smile creeping across my lips. “I guess we are.” She tossed a quick look at me and frowned. “Quit it.” “What?” “I hate it when you do that.” “You hate it when I smile?” “No, when you make that, ‘aw, she does have a heart’ face. You look like a Disney prince.” I laughed. “My bad. I’ll work on that.”

HumorGreedAngelsFlirtingArchangelSeerFriendship QuoteHellhoundArchangel MichaelParanormal InvestigationAngel Human Romance
Book:The Deadly Seven
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“The hit-woman opened the door. No dead body on the floor. Thank God. I heard an unearthly roar and then Jordan charged Liz from where she’d been hiding beside the door. She tackled her to the floor and stabbed her through the wrist with a small switchblade. The hit-woman shrieked and let go of the gun, allowing Jordan precious seconds to bat it across the room. She landed a couple hard punches to the assassin’s nose, bloodying it, before the other woman got the upper hand. She grabbed a handful of Jordan’s ponytail and slammed her head into the edge of the coffee table. Jordan cried out, but didn’t let go of the knife. She withdrew it and held it against the assassin’s throat, shouting, “Move again and I’ll kill you, puta!” Liz panted madly, but stayed put. Jordan glanced up at me. “You okay?” “Alive,” I said through a grimace. “Not okay.” “Good enough.” She returned her gaze to the woman pinned beneath her and glared. “The police are on their way. And not the nice, human police. Angels. Get any ideas about trying to kill me again and you won’t even get to deal with them.” “I’ve been in jail before,” Liz said, attempting to recapture her former arrogance. “I’ll get over it.” Jordan leaned down a few inches, lowering her voice. “Really? How’d you like to return without your tongue?” Liz’s eyes went wide, as did mine. “You wouldn’t dare.” “You shot my best friend. Multiple times. Lex talionis.” “You can’t kill me. You’re not a policewoman. You’re just a girl.” “No. I’m a Seer. You and the rest of your friends had better learn the difference between a sheep and a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Until then…” She lifted her fist and punched Liz hard in the temple. The assassin went out like a light. “Vaya con dios, bitch.”

ActionArchangelAssassinSeerArchangel MichaelAssassination AttemptCat FightBad Ass BoastGirl Fight
Book:The Deadly Seven
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“Time. Now here is a peculiar commodity, boy. The measurement of time. Best accomplished, obviously, with a watch. But, lacking a watch, a man may use instead the ebb and flow of light and dark. Lacking, however, a window through which to see such movement, the reliance must be devolved upon some inner mechanism of the mind. But if the mind has received a shock, the mechanism is disturbed, and time becomes as the ground is to a drunkard, variable.”

ArchangelRobert Harris
Book:Archangel
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“He wondered what O'Brian would have been like in a real war, one in which he actually had to fight rather than just take pictures. Then he wondered what he would have been like. Most of the men he knew asked themselves that question, as if never having fought somehow made them incomplete - left a hole in their lives where a war should have been. Was it possible that this absence of war - marvellous though it was and so forth: that went without saying - was it possible that it had actually trivialised people? Because everything was so bloody trivial now, wasn't it? This was The Trivial Age. Politics was trivial. What people worried about was trivial - mortgages and pensions and the dangers of passive smoking. Jesus! - is this what we've been reduced to, worrying about passive smoking, when our parents and our grandparents had to worry about being shot or bombed? And then he began to feel guilty, because what was he implying here? That he wanted a war? ... He was glad it was over, of course, in a way - but at least while it was on people like him had known where they stood, could point to something and say: well, we may not know what we do believe in, but we don't believe in that.”

ArchangelRobert Harris
Book:Archangel
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“Have you ever seen fishermen when a storm is brewing on a great river? I have seen them many a time. In the face of a storm one group of fishermen will muster all their forces, encourage their fellows and boldly put out to meet the storm: 'Cheer up, lads, hold tight to the tiller, cut the waves, we'll pull her through!' But there is another type of fishermen - those who, on sensing a storm, lose heart, begin to snivel and demoralise their own ranks: 'What a misfortune, a storm is brewing; lie down, boys, in the bottom of the boat, shut your eyes; let's hope she'll make the shore somehow.”

ArchangelRobert Harris
Book:Archangel
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“What she needed was someone who would take her for the whole night. Someone decent and respectable, with an apartment of his own. But how could you ever judge what men were really like? It was the young ones with the swaggering walks and the loud mouths who ended up bursting into tears and showing you pictures of their girlfriends. It was the bespectacled bankers and lawyers who liked to knock you around.”

ArchangelRobert Harris
Book:Archangel
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“Take this message to your people, you obsequious little worm,” I murmured. “Anyone who lays a hand on Jordan Amador will have to answer to me. Now do me a favor and go to hell.” I removed my sword from his hand and then decapitated him. His severed head tumbled across the floor like a wayward bowling ball. Good riddance. I set my sword aside, found a stool in the corner, and climbed up in front of Jordan. Her handcuffs were attached to a huge meat hook bolted into the ceiling. I lifted her off of it with great care, unsure if she had the strength to stand. As soon as her arms were free, she looped them around my shoulders and pressed her face against my neck. She was trembling, but not crying. I sank to the floor and cradled her in my lap, breathing out the last of my anger now that she was safe. “‘M sorry,” she mumbled in a small voice. “I’m so sorry, Michael.” I snorted. “What the hell do you have to apologize for? You got kidnapped. Pretty sure that’s not your fault.” She shook her head, her words partially muffled as she pressed her face against my shirt. “Should’ve been stronger. I could’ve gotten you killed.” “By Heckle and Jeckle here? Not likely.” A shaky laugh rattled through her. She slid her fingers into the hairs along the nape of my neck and hugged me tighter. I knew from experience she didn’t want me to see her face because she knew she was only seconds away from breaking down. No one would ever accuse Jordan Amador of being a crybaby, not if she could help it. It was a ridiculous notion at best, but I indulged her anyway. “Thank you.” “Just doing my job. But you’re welcome.” I smoothed the sweaty hairs away from her forehead enough to kiss it. She didn’t move away. We stayed there for a while without speaking, just clinging to each other until we felt strong enough to separate.”

AngelParanormal RomanceDemonRescueArchangelBeheadingAngel Paranormal RomanceAngel Human RomanceAngel Vs Demon
Book:The Deadly Seven
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“How can it be other than right to worship the Body of the Lord, all-holy and all-reverend as it is, announced as it was by the archangel Gabriel, formed by the Holy Spirit, and made the Vesture of the Word? It was at any rate a bodily hand that the Word stretched out to raise her that was sick of a fever (Mk. 1:31): a human voice that He uttered to raise Lazarus - the dead (Jn. 11:43); and, once again, stretching out His hands upon the Cross, He overthrew the prince of the power of the air, that now works (Eph. 2:2) in the sons of disobedience, and made the way clear for us into the heavens.”

WayHumansMadeBodyHandsChristianSpiritHeavenVoiceLordClearAirSonHolyWorshipCrossesSickRaisesRateHoly SpiritOrthodoxDisobedienceFeverOrthodox ChristianStretchingGabrielArchangelHuman VoiceReverendsLazarus
Author:John of Kronstadt
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“Now hear it, O inhabitants of the earth, Jew and Gentile, Saint and sinner! When our father Adam came into the garden of Eden, he came into it with a celestial body, and brought Eve, one of his wives, with him. He helped to make and organize this world. He is Michael, the Archangel, the Ancient of Days! about whom holy men have written and spoken -- He is our Father, and our God, and the only God with whom we have to do. Every man upon the earth, professing Christians or non professing, must hear it, and will know it sooner or later.”

KnowsMenWorldBodyEarthChristianFatherWifeWrittenThis WorldHolyGardenAncientSaintJewEvery ManSinnerAdamSooner Or LaterOrganizeOur FatherCelestialEdenGarden Of EdenArchangelGentilesHoly ManSaints And SinnersCelestial Bodies
Book:Journal of Discourses
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“When thou attended gloriously from heaven , Shalt in the sky appear, and from thee send Thy summoning archangels to proclaim Thy dread tribunal.”

HeavenSkyJudgmentTheeDreadArchangelTribunalsSummoning
Book:The First Six Books of Milton's Paradise Lost: Rendered Into Grammatical Construction ... with Notes Grammatical, Geographical, Historical, Critical, and Explanatory. To which are Prefixed Remarks on Ellipsis and Transposition ...
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“How shall we celebrate the day,When God appeared in mortal clay,The mark of worldly scorn;When the Archangel's heavenly Lays,Attempted the Redeemer's Praise,And hail'd Salvation's Morn!”

MarkPraiseSalvationLaysCelebrateMortalsHeavenlyWorldlyClayScornHailRedeemerArchangel
Book:The Works of Thomas Chatterton ...: Life of Chatterton, by G. Gregory. Miscellaneous poems
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