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Blood Quotes

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Blood Quotes

“For the man sound of body and serene of mind there is no such thing as bad weather; every day has its beauty, and storms which whip the blood do but make it pulse more vigorously.”

Men Mind Body Sound Courage Blood Quiet Storm Weather Pulse Whips Vigorous Criminal Mind Serene Bad Weather Best Criminal Minds Cool Weather

Book:The Private Papers of Henry Ryecroft

Source: The Private Papers of Henry Ryecroft

“You must not sneeze. If you have a vehement cold you must take no notice of it; if your nose membranes feel a great irritation you must hold your breath; if a sneeze still insists upon making its way you must oppose it keeping your teeth grinding together; if the violence of the pulse breaks some blood-vessel you must break the blood-vessel -- but not sneeze.”

Ifs Way Feels Stills Together Break Violence Blood Cold Breaths Teeth Noses Vessel Pulse Irritation Vehement Membranes Blood Vessels

Book:Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay: Volume 2: Edited by Her Niece

Source: Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay: Volume 2: Edited by Her Niece

“The Hitler movement is a stampede. It is something beyond reason, like a pulse beating, like a rush of blood to the head, like the sap rising from the twisted roots of a family tree. ... in many ways it is the most remarkable upheaval of our time, perhaps the most momentous.”

World Way War Reason Tree Blood Movement Roots War Of The Worlds Our Time Rising Remarkable World War Ii World War I Twisted Pulse Sap Upheaval Stampede

Author:Anne O'Hare McCormick

“Time pulses from the afternoon like blood from a serious wound.”

Time Blood Serious Wounds Afternoon Pulse

Book:In the Palomar Arms: A Novel

Source: In the Palomar Arms: A Novel

“Man is the only animal that deals in that atorcity of atrocities, War. He is the only one that gathers his brethren about him and goes forth in cold blood and calm pulse to exterminate his kind.”

Men Kind War Animal Deals Blood Cold Calm Pulse Atrocities Brethren Going To War Brotherhood Of Man

Book:What Is Man? and Other Philosophical Writings

Source: What Is Man? and Other Philosophical Writings

“You couldn't pretend you had lost nothing... you had to begin there, not let your blood freeze over. If your heart turned away at this, it would turn away at something greater, then more and more until your heart stayed averted, immobile, your imagination redistributed away from the world and back only toward the bad maps of yourself, the sour pools of your own pulse, your own tiny, mean, and pointless wants.”

Ifs World Want Heart Mean Turns Lost Imagination Greater Blood Tiny Maps Pool Pulse Pointless Freeze Sour

Book:Birds of America: Stories

Source: Birds of America: Stories

“Man is the only animal that deals in that atrocity of atrocities War. He is the only one that gathers his brethren about him and goes forth in cold blood and calm pulse to exterminate his kind. He is the only animal that for sordid wages will march out... and help to slaughter strangers of his own species who have done him no harm and with whom he has no quarrel.... And in the intervals between campaigns he washes the blood off his hands and works for the universal brotherhood of man with his mouth.”

“His brow is seamed with line and scar; His cheek is red and dark as wine; The fires as of a Northern star Beneath his cap of sable shine. His right hand, bared of leathern glove, Hangs open like an iron gin, You stoop to see his pulses move, To hear the blood sweep out and in. He looks some king, so solitary In earnest thought he seems to stand, As if across a lonely sea He gazed impatient of the land. Out of the noisy centuries The foolish and the fearful fade; Yet burn unquenched these warrior eyes, Time hath not dimmed, nor death dismayed.”

Source: Collected Poems, 1901-1918

“I, being born a woman and distressed By all the needs and notions of my kind, Am urged by your propinquity to find Your person fair, and feel a certain zest To bear your body's weight upon my breast; So subtly is the fume of life designed, To clarify the pulse and cloud the mind, And leave me once again undone, possessed. Think not for this, however, the poor treason Of my stout blood against my staggering brain, I shall remember you with love, or season My scorn with pity, - let me make it plain: I find this frenzy insufficient reason For conversation when we meet again.”

Source: Edna St. Vincent Millay: Selected Poems