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Fluttering Quotes

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Fluttering Quotes

“Deception, flattering, lying, deluding, talking behind the back, putting up a false front, living in borrowed splendor, wearing a mask, hiding behind convention, playing a role for others and for oneself -- in short, a continuous fluttering around the solitary flame of vanity -- is so much the rule and the law among men that there is almost nothing which is less comprehensible than how an honest and pure drive for truth could have arisen among them.”

MenLawLyingBehindsTalkingRolesHonestFrontsPureOneselfVanityDeceptionFlamesMaskHidingConventionsSolitaryBorrowedSplendorFlatteringFlutteringWearing A Mask
Book:Delphi Complete Works of Friedrich Nietzsche (Illustrated): Friedrich Nietzsche
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“Vain-glorious man, when fluttering wind does blow In his light wing's, is lifted up to sky; The scorn of-knighthood and true chivalry. To think, without desert of gentle deed And noble worth, to be advanced high, Such praise is shame, but honour, virtue's meed, Doth bear the fairest flower in honourable seed.”

ThinkingMenDoeLightVirtueSkyWindFlowerBearsPraiseShameWingsBlowDeedsSeedsNobleDesertVainGentleGloriousHonourNobilityScornChivalryFlutteringKnighthood
Book:Books I and II of the Faerie queene: the mutability cantos, and selections from the minor poetry
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“From numberless books the fluttering reader, idle and inconstant, bears away the bloom that only clings to the outer leaf; but genius has its nectaries, delicate glands, and secrecies of sweetness, and upon these the thoughtful mind must settle in its labor, before the choice perfume of fancy and wisdom is drawn forth.”

MindBookChoicesReadingBearsReaderGeniusLaborSettlingFancyThoughtfulDelicateIdleLeafsSweetnessPerfumeSecrecyFlutteringGlandsThoughtful Mind
Book:Pleasures of Literature
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“To live as I incline, or not to live at all: so do I wish; so wisheth also the holiest. But alas! how have I still - inclination? Have I-still a goal? A haven towards which MY sail is set?A good wind? Ah, he only who knoweth WHITHER he saileth, knoweth what wind is good, and a fair wind for him.What still remaineth to me? A heart weary and flippant; and unstable will; fluttering wings; a broken backbone.This seeking for MY home: O Zarathustra, dost thou know that this seeking hath been MY home-sickening; it eateth me up.”

KnowsHeartStillsHomeWishGoalHavensWindBrokenFairsWingsSeekingSailWearyAlasInclinationUnstableBackboneInclineFlutteringZarathustraFlippant
Book:Thus spake Zarathustra - A Book for All and None
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“Why all this insistence on the senses? Because in order to convince your reader that he is THERE, you must assault each of his senses, in turn, with color, sound, taste, and texture. If your reader feels the sun on his flesh, the wind fluttering his shirt sleeves, half your fight is won. The most improbable tales can be made believable, if your reader, through his senses, feels certain that he stands at the middle of events. He cannot refuse, then, to participate. The logic of events always gives way to the logic of the senses.”

IfsWayGivingFeelsMadeCertainOrderTurnsFightingSoundHalfSunMiddleEventsColorWindReaderTasteLogicRefuseFleshSensesTalesShirtsConvinceAssaultTextureSleevesImprobableBelievableInsistenceFluttering
Author:Ray Bradbury
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“The World Trade Organization, The World Bank, The International Monetary Fund and other financial institutions virtually write economic policy and parliamentary legislation. With a deadly combination of arrogance and ruthlessness, they take their sledgehammers to fragile, interdependent, historically complex societies and devastate them, all under the fluttering banner of 'reform'.”

WorldWritingEconomicPolicyOrganizationInstitutionsTradeComplexesFinancialInternationalReformCombinationArroganceFundFragileLegislationMonetaryBannerEconomic PolicyWorld TradeParliamentaryFlutteringRuthlessnessFinancial InstitutionsWorld BankWorld Trade Organization
Author:Arundhati Roy
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“You could be attached to merely a description of a plant or a flower. Or a narrative of an event. Or rage at injustice. Isaiah and the other Hebrew prophets, in their rage, were being altogether attached - not at all detached, although as I think of the word "detachment," I also think of a sheet of paper, loose from its notebook, fluttering around somewhere in the wind trying to find its home again.”

ThinkingTryingHomeEventsWindFlowerPaperPlantInjusticeRageNarrativeProphetDescriptionSheetsDetachmentNotebookDetachedHebrewFluttering
Author:Gerald Stern
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“What is more cheerful, now, in the fall of the year, than an open-wood-fire? Do you hear those little chirps and twitters coming out of that piece of apple-wood? Those are the ghosts of the robins and blue-birds that sang upon the bough when it was in blossom last Spring. In Summer whole flocks of them come fluttering about the fruit-trees under the window: so I have singing birds all the year round.”

YearsLittlesWholeLastsFallFirePiecesTreeSummerSpringSingingBirdWindowBlueFruitRoundsWoodsGhostApplesComing OutCheerfulFlocksRobinsFlutteringFruit TreesSinging BirdsBirds Chirping
Book:Marjorie Daw and Other People
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“His whole body was completely still, except the wings, which were still fluttering a little, like when someone dies. That's when he finally understood that of all the things the angel had told him, nothing was true. That he wasn't even an angel, just a liar with wings.”

LittlesStillsWholeBodyDiesUnderstoodAngelWingsLiarsFlutteringWhen Someone Dies
Book:The Bus Driver Who Wanted to Be God & Other Stories
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“The space that I can call mine.. is so small that my ideas have become small. I am like a caterpillar in a cocoon of paper; all around me are sketches for sculptures, small drawings that seem like moths fluttering against the windows, beating their wings to escape from this tiny space.. Every day the ideas come more reluctantly, as though they know I will starve them and stunt their growth.”

KnowsI CanIdeasSeemsGrowthSpaceMinesPaperWindowWingsDrawingTinySculptureMothsCaterpillarsCocoonsFluttering
Author:Audrey Niffenegger
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“Synchronize watches at oh six hundred' says the infantry captain, and each of his huddled lieutenants finds respite from fear in the act of bringing two tiny pointers into jeweled alignment while tons of heavy artillery go fluttering overhead: the prosaic, civilian-looking dial of the watch has restored, however briefly, an illusion of personal control. Good, it counsels, looking tidily up from the hairs and veins of each terribly vulnerable wrist; fine: so far, everything's happening right on time.”

TwoWatchesHairFineSixHappeningsIllusionHundredHeavyTinyVulnerableCaptainsVeinsCiviliansAlignmentWristsOverheadArtilleryFlutteringLieutenantsInfantryRespitePointers
Book:Revolutionary Road
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“Kevin stopped where he was and stood there simply gazing at her. Molly sat cross-legged in the meadow with the sun shining on her bare shoulders and a pair of yellow butterflies fluttering like hair bows around her head. She was all the dreams he'd lost at dawn-dreams of everything he hadn't understood he needed until now. She was his playmate, his confidante, the lover who made his blood rush. She was the mother of his children and the companion of his old age. She was the joy of his heart.”

HeartChildrenMadeDreamAgeJoyMotherLostSunBloodHairNeededLoversUnderstoodCrossesShiningShouldersOld AgeDawnSatPairsCompanionYellowButterflyBowsMeadowsKevinGazingFluttering
Author:Susan Elizabeth Phillips
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“That night, like every other night since I’d met her, I curled Grace into my arms, listening to her parents’ muffled movements in the living room. They were like busy little brainless birds, fluttering in and out of their nest at all hours of the day or night, so involved in the pleasure of nest building that they hadn’t noticed that it had been empty for years.”

YearsLittlesNightParentHoursPleasureRoomsGraceMovementBuildingArmsListeningInvolvedMetsBirdEmptyBusyNestsLiving RoomFlutteringBrainless
Book:Shiver
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“I watched the edges of the leaves slowly unfold, fluttering in the breeze. "How long did you wait?" It would've been unbearably romantic if he'd had he courage to look into my face and say it, but instead, he dropped his eyes to the ground and scuffed his boot in the leaves- countless possibilities for happy days- on the ground. "I haven't stopped.”

IfsLooksLongEyeFacesWaitingHavensPossibilityEdgesHis EyesBootsBreezeFlutteringHappy Day
Book:Shiver Trilogy (Shiver, Linger, Forever)
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“There's a very generous donation in the parish's future if you make this fast. Ten minutes, at the most." Frowning, the man fumbled open his liturgy. "There's an established rite, Your Grace. Marriage must be entered into with solemnity and consideration. I don't know that I can rush--" "Ten minutes. One thousand guineas." The liturgy snapped closed. "Then again, what do a few extra minutes signify to an eternal God?" He beckoned Amelia with a fluttering, papery hand. "Make haste, child. You're about to be married.”

IfsKnowsMenChildrenI CanHandsGraceMinutesThousandTenEternalMarriedGenerousExtrasConsiderationBeing MarriedHasteRiteDonationAmeliaGuineaFrowningParishFlutteringLiturgySolemnity
Book:One Dance with a Duke
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“Well, possibly," I said, feeling my lips twitch again. "But maybe first you would tell us why you chose to manifest yourself in the form of Shirley Temple as last seen on the 'Good Ship Lollipop'?" The demon twirled around, its big pink sash fluttering as it smoothed down its dress and frilly little petticoat. "My grotesque form isn't making you sick with fright?" We both shook our heads, Noelle with a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. "Shirley Temple at her pinnacle was frightening," I finally told it, "but not in the sense I think you mean.”

ThinkingFirstsWellsMeanLittlesSaidFeelingsHandsBigsLastsFormLaughingMouthsSickDressesLipsShipsLoudDemonTemplesManifestFrighteningFrightGrotesquePinnacleFlutteringLollipop
Author:Katie MacAlister
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“At times I believed that the last page of my book and the last page of my life were one and the same, that when my book ended I'd end, a great wind would sweep through my rooms carrying the pages away, and when the air cleared of all those fluttering white sheets the room would be silent, the chair where I sat empty.”

WritingBookEndsWould BeLastsWhiteRoomsAirWindPagesEmptySilentSatChairsSheetsFluttering
Book:The History of Love: A Novel
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