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Water Quotes

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Water Quotes

“But this is what I know about people getting ready to walk of the edge of their own lives: they want someone to know how they got there. Maybe they want to know that when they dissolve into earth and water, that last fragment will be saved, held in some corner of someone's mind; or maybe all they want is a chance to dump it pulsing and bloody into someone else's hands, so it won't weigh them down on the journey. They want to leave their stories behind. No one in all the world knows that better than I do.”

PeopleKnowsWorldWantMindStoriesHandsEarthLastsWaterChanceWalksBehindsKnow HowJourneyReadyEdgesCornersSavedBloodyFragmentsDump
Author:Tana French
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“Beyond the terrace, a light breeze stirred the reeds at the edge of the pond. Looking out at this intimate vista, one could see the reeds and a stone lantern and the brightest of the evening's stars floating on the gloaming mirror of the pond. Then the breeze came again to crack the water's surface, and the picture was flooded.”

LightStarsWaterStonesMirrorsEdgesSurfaceEveningIntimateCracksFloatingBreezePondsReedsVistasLanternsTerraceGloaming
Book:The Commoner
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“Doth not this Æthereal Medium in passing out of Water, Glass, Crystal, and other compact and dense Bodies into empty Spaces, grow denser and denser by degrees, and by that means refract the Rays of Light not in a point, but by bending them gradually in curve Lines? And doth not the gradual condensation of this Medium extend to some distance from the Bodies, and thereby cause the Inflexions of the Rays of Light, which pass by the edges of dense Bodies, at some distance from the Bodies?”

MeanBodyLightGrowsCausesWaterLinesSpaceDegreesEmptyDistanceGlassesEdgesPassingPassingsMediumsRaysCurvesCrystalsDenseEmpty SpaceBendingCompactRays Of LightCondensationPassing Out
Book:Opticks:: Or, A Treatise of the Reflections, Refractions, Inflections and Colours of Light
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“Venice is ever the fragile labyrinth at the edge of the sea and it reminds us how brief and perilous the journeys of our lives are; perhaps that is why we love it so. City of plagues and brief liaisons, city of lingering deaths and incendiary loves, city of chimeras, nightmares, pigeons, bells. You are the only city in the world whose dialect has a word for the shimmer of canal water reflected on the ceiling of a room.”

WorldWaterRoomsCitiesOur LivesJourneySeaEdgesNightmareFragileBellsPlagueCeilingsVeniceLabyrinthPigeonsLingeringDialectCanalsCities In The WorldShimmerChimeraLiaison
Author:Erica Jong
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“The old men of the village of Mahotière say that the Mistress of the Water is a mulatto woman. At midnight she comes out of the spring and sings while combing her dripping long hair, which makes a sound sweeter than a violin. It is a song of perdition for whomever hears it. There is no sign of the Cross, no "Our Father" to save him. Her curse takes him like a fish in a net and the Mistress of the Water awaits him on the edge of the spring and smiles upon him and tells him to follow her to the depths, from which he will never return.”

MenLongSongFatherSoundWaterMusicHairReturnMusicianSpringCrossesDepthEdgesFishesCurseOld ManVillageMidnightMistressOur FatherViolinDrippingLong HairPerditionMulattoes
Author:Jacques Roumain
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“It's nice, when fishing, to catch a fish. But it doesn't really matter if you don't. What you always catch is a quiet time sitting at the water's edge, or in a gently rocking boat, a silent time of water and sky and the movement of natural things.”

IfsMatterWaterNaturalNiceSkyMovementQuietSittingSilentEdgesFishesBoatFishingNatural ThingsQuiet Time
Book:Forgotten pleasures: a guide for the seasonal adventurer
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“To love a swamp, however, is to love what is muted and marginal, what exists in the shadows, what shoulders its way out of mud and scurries along the damp edges of what is most commonly praised. And sometimes its invisibility is a blessing. Swamps and bogs are places of transition and wild growth, breeding grounds, experimental labs where organisms and ideas have the luxury of being out of the spotlight, where the imagination can mutate and mate, send tendrils into and out of the water.”

WayIdeasSometimesGrowthWaterImaginationBlessingShadowEdgesShouldersLuxuryTransitionMatesOrganismsMudBreedingLabsSpotlightSwampsDampInvisibilityBogs
Book:Stirring the Mud: On Swamps, Bogs, and Human Imagination
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“On the way I stood a moment looking out across the marshes with tall cattails, a patch of water, more marsh, then the woods with a few birch trees shining white at the edge on beyond. In the darkness it all looked just like I felt. Wet and swampy and gloomy, very gloomy. In the morning I painted it. My memory of it is that it was probably my best painting that summer.”

WayMomentsFeltWaterMemoriesWhiteMorningDarknessTreePaintingSummerShiningEdgesWoodsTallWetPatchesGloomyMarshesBirch Trees
Author:Georgia O'Keeffe
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