Cold Bright Quotes

#1. To me, he was in reality become no longer flesh, but marble; his eye was a cold, bright, blue gem; his tongue a speaking instrument - nothing more.

Charlotte Bronte

#2. [Dawn] is always such a forgiving time. When that first cold, bright streak comes over the water, it's as if all our sins were pardoned; as if the sky leaned over the earth and kissed it and gave it absolution.

Willa Cather

#3. It is commonly observed, that when two Englishmen meet, their first talk is of the weather; they are in haste to tell each other, what each must already know, that it is hot or cold, bright or cloudy, windy or calm.

Samuel Johnson

#4. How can something so bright be so cold?

Kim Savage

#5. Death is the opposite of lonely, and lonely is the only thing the janitor owns. It is the only thing that's hers. And that makes loneliness beautiful, out here among the cold and bright beginnings.

Amber Sparks

#6. Cold Mountain cold Ice freezes rock Mountains are green Snow is white Sun shines bright Every thing melt Every thing warm Warms old man

Hanshan

#7. Day - the moon was so bright - and cold and kind of windy; a lot of tumbleweed blowing about. But that's all I saw. Only now when I think back, I think somebody must have been hiding there. Maybe down among the trees. Somebody just waiting for me to leave.

Truman Capote

#8. It was a clear cold night and the stars shone down upon the mountains as bright and merciless as truth.

George R R Martin

#9. Real-World Example = Don't constantly complain about the work conditions. (It's too bright, it's too dark, it's too cold, I wish it smelled more like cinnamon.) A simple rule of thumb to remember is, "Unless there's a live cobra in the office, I'll be all right.

Jon Acuff

#10. Let me be the only one to keep you from the cold
Now the floor of hell is laid, the stars are bright as gold
They light for you, they shine for you
They burn for all to see
Come into these arms again and set your spirit free

Annie Lennox

#11. It's true. I've seen it when the crescent moon shone bright on a cold, dark night. The darker the night, the brighter God's smile.

Anusha Atukorala

#12. Tiers of mountains
Cold wind feet
Not need fan
Ice cold through
Moon shines bright
Mist covers everything
Sit all alone
One old man

Hanshan

#13. My soul is calm and bright as the morning mountains. But they believe I am cold, that I jeer, that I deal in terrible jests. And now they look at me and laugh, and in laughing they hate me too. There is ice in their laughter.

Friedrich Nietzsche

#14. People often think of New York as a city, a concrete jungle with soaring skyscrapers and yellow taxis and the bright lights of Times Square. And it is that, in part. But beyond that, it's rolling hills of fruit orchards and fields of grain and ice-cold waters brimming with oysters.

Daniel Humm

#15. Compassion speaks with a slight accent. She was a vulnerable child, miserable in school, cold, shy ... In ninth grade she was befriended by Courage. Courage lent Compassion bright sweaters, explained the slang, showed her how to play volleyball.

J. Ruth Gendler

#16. Never Forget Who You Are Beacause Its Like Forgetingg Water Is Wet,The Sun Is Bright,Snow Is Cold.Its Rudunent.

Andrew Fukuda

#17. It was a bright day, but cold, and the whores had emerged, working the Combat Zone, looking cold and bizarre in their miniskirts, boots, and blond wigs. Being seductive at twenty degrees was heavy going, I thought. Being horny at twenty degrees wasn't all that easy either.

Robert B. Parker

#18. Remember this. When people choose to withdraw far from a fire, the fire continues to give warmth, but they grow cold. When people choose to withdraw far from light, the light continues to be bright in itself but they are in darkness. This is also the case when people withdraw from God.

Saint Augustine

#19. I can see myself watching him shave every morning. And at other time I see us in that house and see how one bright day (or a day like this, so cold your mind shifts every time the wind does) he will wake up and decide it's all wrong. I'm sorry, he'll say. I have to leave now.

Junot Diaz

#20. Gold! gold! gold! gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold!

Thomas Hood

#21. There is a Precious Mountain
Even the Seven Treasures cannot compare
A cold moon rises through the pines
Layer upon layer of bright clouds
How many towering peaks?
How many wandering miles?
The valley streams run clear
Happiness forever!

Hanshan

#22. To see the Earth as it truly is, small and blue and beautiful in that eternal silence where it floats, is to see ourselves as riders on the Earth together, brothers on that bright loveliness in the eternal cold - brothers who know now they are truly brothers.

Archibald MacLeish

#23. A second later the door opened and Murphy glared up at me, blue eyes bright and cold. "Get more away. I've been fighting this computer all day long. I swear, if you blow out my hard drive again, I'm taking it out of your ass."
"Why would your hard drive be in my ass?" I said.

Jim Butcher

#24. Looking at the sky last night and the moon in the first fresh dark, just a few stars, bright with their cold flares, I had a little crumpled thought, 'Oh well, the moon. It's just another place like California.' One's imagination drags its feet as we are inexorably hauled into the future.

James Schuyler

#25. The moon, the moon, so silver and cold, Her fickle temper has oft been told, Now shade
now bright and sunny
But of all the lunar things that change, The one that shows most fickle and strange, And takes the most eccentric range, Is the moon
so called
of honey!

Thomas Hood

#26. We go outside, on a clear, cold night. We see millions of stars all over the place, bright and beautiful, each one shining forever. Each moment is forever, it's shining in each moment forever.

Frederick Lenz

#27. Love, our love, had been a shooting star, burning in the darkness, unseen until it got too close, too bright and too quick to capture. It burned out, lost to the deep cold and darkness, to the brutality of space, the infinity above us and in the new emptiness inside of me.

Karina Halle

#28. The air was cold and wet, and if you stood still for a moment the chilling damp would creep into your bones. I could tell the temperature was taking a deep dive, and the bright sky of the morning was a fond memory. It was an appropriate day to dump a body.

Charlaine Harris

#29. She was the sky full of surprises. Her dreams were blue and breathtaking as a bright day and her secrets were dark and poetic as a cold night. Either way, she was the most beautiful mess that one had ever come across.

Akshay Vasu

#30. Londoners, with their noses pressed to cold windows, smiled, for a mid-summer storm was raging across England. Zues had blessed their land, taking away the bright happy sun and replacing it with gusty winds, lashing rain and utter misery.

Anya Wylde

#31. There were no chambers now along the passageway and consequently no lights. There was a glow up ahead, however - fitful and cold, but bright enough to illuminate both the ground she stumbled over, which was bare earth, and the silvery frost on the walls.

Clive Barker

#32. Wish not for treasure you can hold,
No gleaming jewels, bright and cold,
For finer still than pearl or gold,
The treasure of a tale well told ...

Brian Holguin

#33. We must endure our thoughts all night, until the bright obvious stands motionless in the cold.

Wallace Stevens

#34. We feel cold, but we don't mind it, because we will not come to harm. And if we wrapped up against the cold, we wouldn't feel other things, like the bright tingle of the stars, or the music of the aurora, or best of all the silky feeling of moonlight on our skin. It's worth being cold for that.

Philip Pullman

#35. No longer mere earthbeings and planetbeings are we, but bright children of the stars! And together we shall dance in and out of ten billion years, celebrating the gift of consciousness until the stars themselves grow cold and weary, and our thoughts turn again to the beginning.

Sid Meier

#36. Anyone who's ever gone from warm and bright to cold and dark knows how I felt.

Lauren Wolk

#37. And sometimes men fail, I answered silently. Sometimes they don't forgive. Sometimes what you see is only the bright surface of something cold and deep.

Elizabeth Cunningham

#38. Christmas in Bethlehem. The earliest dream: a cold, clear night made bright by a magnificent star, the smell of anger, marshals and clever men falling to their knees in love of the lovely baby, the avatar of faultless love ... !!!

Lucinda Franks

#39. It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. It was the future, and everything sucked.

Greg Nagan

#40. Aaron Burr was like a new refrigerator. He was bright, cold and empty.

Richard Brookhiser

#41. He was cold and tired, but he ignored the cold. Around him stars shone. Some bright, some dim, the most constant things in life. Segundo smiled up at them, happy at least to be dying among friends.

Orson Scott Card

#42. Its aura distorts hard edges. Shimmering vortices of discoloration boil off, swirling, licking the
cold night air with bright spectral fire. Violence and death, this one's still hot.

Michael Allan Scott

#43. It's a big formless, arctic night, the stars so bright they seem to hiss. I walk with my hands in pockets, arms pressed to my sides. Even in my down parka, the cold is still there. I feel as though my blood is crackling in it, my bones conducting cold like wires. My toes are curled in their boots.

Diana Abu-Jaber

#44. When the measured dance of the hours brings back the happy smile of spring, the buried dead is born again in the life-glance of the sun. The germs which perished to the eye within the cold breast of the earth spring up with joy in the bright realm of day.

Friedrich Schiller

#45. That light is bright enough to light up a little speck of the night sky so a man can see it a ways away. That's what God expects us to do. We're to be lights in the dark, cold days that are this world. Like fireflies in December.

Jennifer Erin Valent

#46. I shall lie folded like a saint,
Lapped in a scented linen sheet,
On a bedstead striped with bright-blue paint,
Narrow and cold and neat.

Elinor Wylie

#47. You select the colors of your thoughts; drab or bright, weak or strong, good or bad. You select the colors of your emotions; discordant or harmonious, harsh or quiet, weak or strong. You select the colors of your acts; cold or warm, fearful or daring, small or big.

Wilferd Peterson

#48. Upon the trees. Though the earth was cold and wet, the sky was clear, and the sun rose bright, placid, and beautiful. Eighteen years!

Charles Dickens

#49. Love is heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake- its everything except what it is! (Act 1, scene 1)

William Shakespeare

#50. In fact, sometimes she looks at me in this way I can't really describe but it does things to my heart. It warms me up, from head to toe and my chest is the epicenter. I just want to bottle that look and hold onto forever, open it on a cold, foggy day and feel bright and alive all over again.

Karina Halle

#51. I look up at the moon. It's bright, and
cold, and still looks full to me. But the
calendar says that it's waning, and people
get paid to make calendars, so I guess that
we're ready.

Kendare Blake

#52. It was nearly dawn, and the hill was white with snow. She was covered with a thick blanket of bees, and the snow lay upon them in bright broken spangles. She sat up in distress - bees cannot survive hard cold outside their hives - but they seemed to shake themselves ...

Robin McKinley

#53. I'd rather be not the light in your life
The bright day might make me obscure
I'd rather be the cold darkness
For it remains, unseen, uncertain and unsure

Sanhita Baruah

#54. As best I could make out, having never heard the term until I arrived in California, being a WASP meant being mossbacked, lockjawed, rigid, humorless, cold, charmless, insipid, less than penetratingly bright, but otherwise
and inexplicably
to be envied.

Kay Redfield Jamison

#55. Hail Ostara, white-clad maiden. Snow and ice melt at your gaze, flowers bloom with each soft step. We who late have longed for spring-time, we welcome you at winter's end. I praise you now, O bright Ostara: Earth's cold cover send from here!

Hester Butler-Ehle

#56. I miss your face. That big bright smile. You always had it, in any weather. It's hard for me to find one these days. These cold November days. Except when I think of you.

Kellie Elmore

#57. I sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright
Who art cold as Hel, as dark as night

William Shakespeare

#58. Words are pretty, useless things - butterflies behind glass. You may feel warm and bright as you stare at their beauty but you'll walk away empty and cold, clutching nothing but the painful realization that you never really had anything at all.

Julie Johnson