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Flakes Quotes

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Flakes Quotes

“But when that smoking chowder came in, the mystery was delightfully explained. Oh! sweet friends, hearken to me. It was made of small juicy clams, scarcely bigger than hazel nuts, mixed with pounded ship biscuits and salted pork cut up into little flakes! the whole enriched with butter, and plentifully seasoned with pepper and salt... we dispatched it with great expedition.”

LittlesMadeWholeCuttingMysteryFoodSweetBiggerCookingShipsSmokingCulinaryNutsSaltPorkPeppersExpeditionsBiscuitsJuicyFlakesClamsSweet Friend
Book:MOBY-DICK (WITH NOTES)(BIOGRAPHY)(ILLUSTRATED): OR, THE WHALE
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“It must descend, as the dew, upon the tender herb, or like melting flakes of snow; the softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper it sinks into the mind.”

MindFallDeeperSnowMeltingDewHerbsFlakesAdmonition
Book:Discourses on several important subjects. To which are added, 8 sermons preached at the lady Moyer's lecture, in the cathedral church of st. Paul, London
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“A mighty wind of resolution sets in strong upon him and freshens the whole atmosphere of his soul, sweeping down before it the light flakes of difficulty, till they vanish like snow upon the sea. He is imprisoned no more in a small compartment of time, but belongs to an eternity which is now and here. The isolation of his separate spirit passes away; and with the countless multitude of souls akin to God, he is but a wave of his unbounded deep. He is at one with Heaven, and hath found the secret place of the Almighty.”

SoulWholeLightSpiritFoundStrongHeavenSecretSeaWindEternityDifficultyWaveSnowAtmosphereIsolationResolutionAlmightyMultitudesPassing AwaySweepingFlakesSecret PlacesMighty Wind
Book:Endeavours after the Christian life: discourses
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“We live a pleasant life shopping at the Food Shoppe . . . taking the kids to the Weinery-Beanery, . . . and eating bran flakes . .. and then, with no warning, we wake up one morning stricken with middle age, full of loneliness, dumb, in pain. Our work is useless, our vocation is lost, and nobody cares about us at all. This is not bearable. In despair, we go do something spectacularly dumb, like run away with Amber the cocktail waitress, and suddenly all the women in our life look at us with unmitigated disgust.”

LooksCareRunningKidsAgePainLostMorningOur LivesMiddleLonelinessDespairEatingWake UpDumbUselessPleasantWarningShoppingRunning AwayDisgustingVocationMiddle AgesCocktailsAmberWaitressBearableNobody CaresFlakes
Author:Garrison Keillor
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“Real isn't what they try to tell you. Time isn't. Grown-ups hammer down all these markers, bells, schedules, coffee-breaks, to stake down time so you'll start believing it's something small and mean, something that scrapes flake after flake off of everything you love till there's nothing left; to stake you down so you don't lift off and fly away, somersaulting through whirlpools of months, skimming through eddies of glittering seconds, pouring handfuls of hours over your upturned face.”

TryingBelieveMeanRealFacesLeftHoursBreakMonthsCoffeeLiftsOver YouSecondsStakesBellsSchedulesHammersHandfulPouringFly AwayMarkersFlakesWhirlpoolsDown TimeSkimmingCoffee Break
Book:The Secret Place: Dublin Murder Squad: 5
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“The darkness grew apace; a cold wind began to blow in freshening gusts from the east, and the showering white flakes in the air increased in number. From the edge of the sea came a ripple and whisper. Beyond these lifeless sounds the world was silent. Silent? It would be hard to convey the stillness of it. All the sounds of man, the bleating of sheep, the cries of birds, the hum of insects, the stir that makes the background of our lives - all that was over.”

MenWorldHardWould BeSoundWhiteNumbersDarknessOur LivesAirSeaCryWindGrewColdBirdSilentEdgesBlowEastBackgroundsStillnessSheepApocalypseInsectsRippleLifelessFlakesCold Wind
Book:H. G. WELLS Ultimate Collection: 120+ Science Fiction Classics, Novels & Stories; Including Scientific, Political and Historical Works: The Time Machine, The Island of Doctor Moreau, The Invisible Man, The War of the Worlds, Modern Utopia, A Short History of the World, What Is Coming, The Story of the Last Trump…
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“There is a hollow, holey cylinder running from hilt to point in my machete. When I blow across the mouthpiece in the handle, I make music with my blade. When all the holes are covered, the sound is sad, as rough as rough can be and be called smooth. When all the holes are open, the sound pipes about, bringing to the eye flakes of sun on water, crushed metal. There are twenty holes. And since I've been playing music, I've been called all different kinds of fool - more times than Lobey, which is my name.”

KindDifferentEyeRunningNamesSoundWaterSunFoolTwentiesBlowHandleHolesRoughMore TimeCoveredMetalsDifferent KindsSmoothBladesHollowCrushedPipePlaying MusicFlakesCylindersMouthpieceMachetes
Author:Samuel R. Delany
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“Oh yeah - you have to write every day. Or every weekday. Because writing is a job. It's not eureka moments over and over. It's grueling work, panning for gold. You just keep at it and eventually you get a few grains. Or flakes. Or whatever gold looks like in rivers. Or maybe it's like fishing. Who cares? You just have to do it every day because you never know which day is going to be your productive day.”

KnowsWritingLooksMomentsCareJobsRiversGoldYeahProductiveFishingOver ItGrainWho CaresFlakesWeekdays
Author:Tim Schafer
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“I drew laughing, high-breasted girls aquaplaning without a care in the world, as a result of being amply protected against such national evils as bleeding gums, facial blemishes, unsightly hairs, and faulty or inadequate life insurance. I drew housewives who, until they reached for the right soap flakes, laid themselves wide open to straggly hair, poor posture, unruly children, disaffected husbands, rough (but slender) hands, untidy (but enormous) kitchens.”

WorldChildrenHandsCareGirlEvilPoorResultsLaughingHairHusbandWideEnormousKitchenRoughProtectedSoapInadequateBleedingPostureHousewifeGumFacialSlenderFlakesUnruly
Author:J. D. Salinger
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“I leave Sisyphus at the foot of the mountain. One always finds one's burden again. But Sisyphus teaches the higher fidelity that negates the gods and raises rocks. He too concludes that all is well. This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile. Each atom of that stone, each mineral flake of that night-filled mountain, in itself, forms a world. The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.”

MenWorldWellsHeartEnoughSeemsFormNightUniverseTeachStruggleImagineFeetRocksMastersHigherMountainStonesRaisesFilledBurdenHeightAtomsFidelityMineralsFlakesSisyphusMyth Of Sisyphus
Author:Albert Camus
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“It was only a smile, nothing more. It didn't make everything all right. It didn't make ANYTHING all right. Only a smile. A tiny thing. A leaf in the woods, shaking in the wake of a startled bird's flight. But I'll take it. With open arms. Because when spring comes, it melts the snow one flake at a time, and maybe I just witnessed the first flake melting. - Amir”

FirstsArmsSpringBirdWoodsTinySnowFlightAfghanistanLeafsShakingMeltingFlakesOpen ArmsTiny ThingsAmir
Book:The Complete Khaled Hosseini: Digital box set
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“If she possessed any memory whatsoever of the days when she'd been whole, her shattered recollections were scattered across the darkscape of her mind in fragments so minuscule that she could no more easily piece them together than she could gather from the beach all the tiny chips of broken seashells, worn to polished flakes by ages of relentless tides, and reassemble them into their original architectures.”

IfsMindWholeAgeTogetherMemoriesPiecesBrokenOriginalsArchitectureTinyBeachPossessedTidesWornChipsFragmentsRelentlessShatteredRecollectionPolishedFlakes
Book:One Door Away from Heaven: A Novel
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“Once I spoke the language of the flowers, Once I understood each word the caterpillar said, Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings, And shared a conversation with the housefly in my bed. Once I heard and answered all the questions of the crickets, And joined the crying of each falling dying flake of snow, Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . . How did it go? How did it go?”

SaidFallLanguageSecretHeardDyingCryFlowerBedConversationUnderstoodSnowSpokesGossipCricketCaterpillarsFlakesStarlings
Author:Shel Silverstein
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“So all night long the storm roared on: The morning broke without a sun; In tiny spherule traced with lines Of Nature’s geometric signs, In starry flake, and pellicle, All day the hoary meteor fell; And, when the second morning shone, We looked upon a world unknown, On nothing we could call our own. Around the glistening wonder bent The blue walls of the firmament, No cloud above, no earth below,— A universe of sky and snow!”

WorldLongEarthNightUniverseLinesWonderMorningSunSkyWallBlueCloudsStormTinySnowBrokeBentAll NightFirmamentFlakesMeteorsGeometric
Book:Poems of Nature, Poems Subjective and Reminiscent and Religious Poems, Complete Volume II., the Works of Whittier
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“I saw myself. . . in the time I watched, I saw strength and frailty, pride and vanity, courage and fear. Of wisdom, a little. Of folly much. Of intentions many good ones; but many more left undone. On this alas, I saw myself a man like any other. But this too I saw . . . Alike as men may seem, each is different as flakes of snow, no two the same.You told me you had no need to seek the Mirror, knowing you were Annlaw Clay-Shaper. Now I know who I am: myself and none other. I am Taran.”

KnowsMenNeedsMayLittlesTwoDifferentSeemsLeftKnowingSawsPrideMirrorsIntentionWho I AmSnowVanityFollyAlasClayUndoneFrailtyFlakes
Book:Taran Wanderer: The Chronicles of Prydain
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“Is it snowing where you are? All the world that I see from my tower is draped in white and the flakes are coming down as big as pop-corns. It's late afternoon - the sun is just setting (a cold yellow colour) behind some colder violet hills, and I am up in my window seat using the last light to write to you.”

WorldWritingBigsLightLastsWhiteBehindsSunColdLateWindowPopsSettingSnowSettingsHillsColourSeatsWhere You AreYellowAfternoonTowersVioletCornFlakesLate Afternoon
Author:Jean Webster
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“We tilt our heads back and open wide. The snow drifts into our zombie mouths crawling with grease and curses and tobacco flakes and cavities and boyfriend/girlfriend juice, the stain of lies. For one moment we are not failed tests and broken condoms and cheating on essays; we are crayons and lunch boxes and swinging so high our sneakers punch holes in the clouds. For one breath everything feels better. Then it melts. The bus drivers rev their engines and the ice cloud shatters. Everyone shuffles forward. They don't know what just happened. They can't remember.”

KnowsFeelsMomentsRememberLyingHappenedBrokenMouthsTestsBreathsCloudsBoxesWideHolesSnowIceCurseGirlfriendCheatingDriversBusLunchEnginesFeel BetterEssaysZombieJuiceTobaccoStainsCrawlingCondomSneakersGreaseCrayonFlakesTiltShuffleBus Driver
Author:Laurie Halse Anderson
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