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Stones Quotes

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Stones Quotes

“A line will take us hours maybe; / Yet if it does not seem a moment's thought, / Our stitching and unstitching has been naught... Better go down upon your marrow-bones / And scrub a kitchen pavement, or break stones... For to articulate sweet sounds together / Is to work harder than all these, and yet / Be thought an idler by the noisy set.”

IfsDoeHas BeensMomentsSeemsTogetherSoundHoursLinesBreakSweetHard WorkStonesHarderBonesKitchenWork HarderNoisyPavementMarrowIdlers
Book:Later Poems
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“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me." The adage is true as long as you don't really believe the words. But if your whole upbringing, and everything you have ever been told by parents, teachers and priests, has led you to believe, really believe, utterly and completely, that sinners burn in hell (or some other obnoxious article of doctrine such as that a woman is the property of her husband), it is entirely plausible that words could have a more long-lasting and damaging effect than deeds.”

IfsBelieveMayLongWholeParentHurtBreakHellTeacherEffectsHusbandStonesPropertySticksDeedsBonesDoctrineSinnerPriestsLastingArticlesAdagesUpbringingHurt MePlausibleObnoxiousLong LastingSticks And Stones
Author:Richard Dawkins
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“London is a city that sleeps too much. This is the mould of its quality. A magnetic contract: to reinvent itself on the other side of dream, each day. And such dreams, smouldering against the tidal spine of the river, telling and retelling the tales that must be told to manifest a city's bones. Whispering the night architecture back into stone.”

DreamNightSidesSleepCitiesQualityToo MuchRiversStonesBonesLondonArchitectureTalesEach DayContractsManifestSpineWhisperingMagneticMouldRetelling
Book:London: City of Disappearances
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“I felt bad about myself because certain people were relentlessly attacking me and my reputation. My mom kept saying 'Let it go, Lauren, It doesn't matter' ... [I] realized I had to stop worrying about what other people think. The next day I got a tattoo on my lower back that says 'sticks and stones', because they may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”

PeopleThinkingMayMatterCertainNextFeltHurtBreakWorryMomStonesSticksMy MomBonesI RealizedReputationTattooNext DayAttackingLet It GoHurt MeStop WorryingLaurenSticks And Stones
Author:Lauren Conrad
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“In Koln, a town of monks and bones, And pavement fang'd with murderous stones, And rags and hags, and hideous wenches, I counted two-and-seventy stenches, All well defined, and several stinks! Ye nymphs that reign o'er sewers and sinks, The River Rhine, it is well known, Doth wash your city of Cologne; But tell me, nymphs! what power divine Shall henceforth whash the river Rhine.”

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Author:Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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“Berlin is a skeleton which aches in the cold: it is my own skeleton aching. I feel in my bones the sharp ache of the frost in the girders of the overhead railway, in the iron-work of balconies, in bridges, tramlines, lamp-standards, latrines. The iron throbs and shrinks, the stone and the bricks ache dully, the plaster is numb.”

FeelsMy OwnColdStandardsStonesBonesBridgesIronAcheBricksLampsShrinksBerlinNumbFrostSkeletonsOverheadRailwayBalconiesPlasters
Book:The Berlin Stories: The Last of Mr. Norris [and] Goodbye to Berlin
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“He that buys land buys many stones, He that buys flesh buys many bones, He that buys eggs buys many shells, But he that buys good ale buys nothing else.”

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Book:A Hand-book of Proverbs: Comprising an Entire Republication of Ray's Collection of English Proverbs, with His Additions from Foreign Languages : and an Alphabetical Index, in which are Introduced Large Additions, as Well of Proverbs as of Sayings, Sentences, Maxims, and Phrases
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“We measure our presence in generations; we cannot dig down ten thousand years and find our bones. Our arrival is scribed upon the line of history; it does not drift upon the winds of story, or float upon the shrouds of myth. We are still explorers and discoverers, seeking meaning through movement and examination. But we are coming to a time of listening. Our sweat and breath are now upon this land. Voices rise up, and we begin to hear the echoes in the stones.”

YearsDoeStillsStoriesVoiceLinesGenerationsLandMovementWindListeningThousandTenStonesBreathsSeekingBonesMythSweatEchoesThousand YearsFloatsExaminationArrivalsExplorersShrouds
Book:A Haunting Reverence: Meditations on a Northern Land
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“I don't think I'm wrong when I say that the most beautiful objects of the "stone age" were made of skin, fabric, and especially wood. The "stone age" ought to be called the "wood age." How many African statues are made of stone, bone, or ivory? Maybe one in a thousand! And prehistoric man had no more ivory at his disposal than African tribes. Maybe even less. He must have had thousands of wooden fetishes, all gone now.”

ThinkingMenMadeAgeBeautifulGoneObjectsOughtThousandStonesSkinsWoodsBonesFabricTribesStatuesIvoryFetishPrehistoricStone AgeBeautiful ObjectsPrehistoric ManAfrican Tribes
Author:Pablo Picasso
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“Revenge... is like a rolling stone, which, when a man hath forced up a hill, will return upon him with a greater violence, and break those bones whose sinews gave it motion.”

MenBreakGreaterViolenceReturnMoralityStonesBonesRevengeHillsRollingBreak UpRolling StonesBest RevengeExacting Revenge
Book:The Beauties of J. Taylor: Selected from His Works with an Essay on His Life and Writings
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“The days aren't discarded or collected, they are bees that burned with sweetness or maddened the sting: the struggle continues, the journeys go and come between honey and pain. No, the net of years doesn't unweave: there is no net. They don't fall drop by drop from a river: there is no river. Sleep doesn't divide life into halves, or action, or silence, or honor: life is like a stone, a single motion, a lonesome bonfire reflected on the leaves, an arrow, only one, slow or swift, a metal that climbs or descends burning in your bones.”

YearsActionPainLife IsFallSleepHalfSilenceStruggleJourneyHonorRiversStonesBonesBurningClimbsDividesHoneyMetalsBeesBurnedSweetnessArrowsLife Is LikeDiscardedLonesomeBonfire
Book:Still Another Day
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“I climbed a path and from the top looked up-stream towards Chile. I could see the river, glinting and sliding through the bone-white cliffs with strips of emerald cultivation either side. Away from the cliffs was the desert. There was no sound but the wind, whirring through thorns and whistling through dead grass, and no other sign of life but a hawk, and a black beetle easing over white stones.”

SoundSidesBlackWhitePathWindRiversStonesBonesDesertGrassStreamsCliffsThornsCultivationHawksChileWhistlingBeetlesEmeraldsSigns Of Life
Book:In Patagonia
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“And yet every so often, the heart of America, shuddering with indignation, sends a nervous spasm through the gentle back of the Andes, and tumultuous shock waves assault the surface of the land. Three times the cuppola of proud Santo Domingo has collapsed from on high to the rhythm of broken bones and its worn walls have opened and fallen too. But the foundations they rest on are unmoved, the great blocks of the Temple of the Sun exhibit their gray stone indifferently; however colossal the disaster befalling its oppressor, not one of its huge rocks shifts from its place.”

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Author:Che Guevara
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“Everything we knew condemned us, and our questioning condemned us most of all. Knowledge was the way of our people, and knowledge was dangerous. It was the first thing that freed you and the thing that put you in peril. It was the key to the ten gates. I saw them clearly now, each and every one, the gates that were there for me. Ashes, Bones, Grass, Heart, Stone, Love, Sorrow, Blood, Earth, Sky.”

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Author:Alice Hoffman
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“Books lie, he said. God dont lie. No, said the judge. He does not. And these are his words. He held up a chunk of rock. He speaks in stones and trees, the bones of things. The squatters in their rags nodded among themselves and were soon reckoning him correct, this man of learning, in all his speculations, and this the judge encouraged until they were right proselytes of the new order whereupon he laughed at them for fools.”

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Book:Blood Meridian: Or the Evening Redness in the West
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“All Creatures know that some must die That all the rest may take and eat; Sooner or later, all transform Their blood to wine, their flesh to meat. But Man alone seeks Vengefulness, And writes his abstract Laws on stone; For this false Justice he has made, He tortures limb and crushes bone. Is this the image of a god? My tooth for yours, your eye for mine? Oh, if Revenge did move the stars Instead of Love, they would not shine.”

IfsKnowsMenWritingMayMadeEyeMovingLawDiesStarsJusticeBloodMinesCreaturesStonesWineShiningBonesRevengeFleshTeethMeatTortureAbstractCrushSooner Or LaterLimbs
Book:The Year Of The Flood
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“Every pellet has a story all its own. Every pellet has a story all its own. With its fur and teeth and bones And one or two stones, Every pellet has a story all its own. We shall dissect every pellet with glee. Perhaps we'll find a rodents knee. And never shall we tire In the sacred task that we conspire, No do our work less perfectly And those bright flecks at the core, Which makes our hearts soar, Shall forever remain the deepest mystery. - The owlets in the Pelletorium at St. Aegolius”

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Book:Guardians of Ga'Hoole Collection: Legend of the Guardians
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“The harmony that holds the stars on their courses and the flesh on our bones resonates through all creation. Every sound contains its echo. Before there was humankind, or even forest, there was sound. Sound spread from the source in great circles like those formed when a stone is dropped in a pool. We follow waves of sound from life to life. A dying man’s ears will hear long after his eyes are blind. He hears the sound that leads him to his next life as the Source of All being plucks the harp of creation.”

MenLongEyeCoursesNextStarsSoundDyingCreationSourceStonesEarsHarmonyBlindWaveSpreadBonesFleshCirclesForestsHis EyesPoolHumankindEchoesPluckHarpsNext Life
Author:Morgan Llywelyn
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“At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters have settled after a night of rain. I dip my cupped hands. I drink a long time. It tastes like stone, leaves, fire. It falls cold into my body, waking the bones. I hear them deep inside me, whispering oh what is that beautiful thing that just happened?”

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Book:New and Selected Poems, Volume One
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“Cold be hand and heart and bone, and cold be sleep under stone: never more to wake on stony bed, never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead. In the black wind the stars shall die, and still on gold here let them lie, till the dark lord lifts his hand over dead sea and withered land.”

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Book:The Fellowship of the Ring: Being the First Part of The Lord of the Rings
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“... He went under the stars, and the tender light of the moon, when it hung like an eyelash and the tree trunks shone like bones. He walked through wind and weather, and beneath sun-bleached skies. It seemed to Harold that he had been waiting all his life to walk. He no longer knew how far he had come, but only that he was going forward. The pale Cotswold stone became the red brick of Warwickshire, and the land flattened into middle England. Harold reached his hand to his mouth to brush away a fly, and felt a beard growing in thick tufts. Queenie would live. He knew it.”

HandsLightStarsFeltWaitingWalksSunGrowingTreeSkyLandMiddleWindMoonMouthsRedStonesEnglandBonesWeatherThickPaleHungBrushesBricksBeardTrunksEyelashesTree Trunks
Author:Rachel Joyce
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“I thought you'd gotten over your whoring when you left him, Catherine, but it seems you only postponed it." Bones' face turned to stone, and he answered her even before I could snap out an indignant response. "Don't you ever speak to her that way again." There was pure warning in the whip of his words. "You can call me any name you like and more, but I will not stand by while you slander her out of your own ignorance.”

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Author:Jeaniene Frost
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