Top 87 Dead And Cold Quotes
#1. Man with his new powers became rich like Midas but all that he touched had gone dead and cold.
C.S. Lewis
#2. The wheat had survived the hail and lightning of the summer storms, but luck could not deliver it from the cold. By the time the refugees took shelter in the old house, the wheat was dead, killed by the hard fist of a deep frost.
Rick Yancey
#3. I have overspread the world like a syrup and the emptiness of it it's terrifying, but there is no dislodging the seed; the seed has become a little knot of cold fire which roars like a sun in the vast hollow of the dead carcass.
Henry Miller
#4. This crowd did not diminish through the whole of that cold, wet day; they seemed not to know what was to by their fate since their great benefactor was dead, and though strong and brave men wept when I met them.
Gideon Welles
#5. There is nothing like the dead cold hand of the past to take down our tumid egotism and lead us into the solemn flow of the life of our race.
Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr.
#6. She had died, I just never told her. So still, we walk, eat and sleep together, in fear one day she'll come to realize it.
Anthony Liccione
#7. Cold rage had him leaning closer, the pistol now a mere inch from his throat. "I served with them for a decade in Special Forces. You can't _begin_ to know what that means. Now they're dead and I want answers."
Pamela Clare
#8. Our American professors like their literature clear and cold and pure and very dead.
Sinclair Lewis
#9. I have lost stories and many starts of novels before. Not always as punishment for 'telling,' but more often as a result of something having gone cold and dead because of a hiatus. Telling, you see, is the same as a hiatus. It means you're not doing it.
Cynthia Ozick
#10. Nowhere is where there is no love, where there is no hope, where it is cold, where it is meaningless, where it is dark and frightening, painful and hurting! When love shines, nowhere disappears; where love is alive, nowhere is dead!
Mehmet Murat Ildan
#11. You're a terrible man for the blankets, said Kerrigan.
I'm not ashamed to admit that I love my bed, said Byrne. She was my first friend ... She will house me in my last hour and faithfully hold my cold body when I am dead. She will look bereaved when I am gone.
Flann O'Brien
#12. Deathstorm sees Power Ring as a fascinating experiment. Deathstorm is a scientist who's been merged with the dead body of his lab assistant. It's given him a cold demeanor and a clammy touch.
Geoff Johns
#13. The cold was bothering me. You'd think I'd welcome it. But it's something to do with being dead, I guess. You don't feel it as cold. You feel it as a sort of nothing, and when you're dead I guess the only thing that you're scared of is nothing.
Neil Gaiman
#14. We are suffering today from a species of Christianity as dry as dust, as cold as ice, as pale as a corpse, and as dead as King Tut. We are suffering not from a lack of correct heads but of consumed hearts.
Vance Havner
#15. Almost everyone I've ever loved is dead. And the only way to live with the constant cull of what you love is to take a little of that cold grave into yourself, every time.
Gregory David Roberts
#16. They had found two of his uncle's men in the wood, slain, but the corpses had risen in the chill of night. Jon's burnt fingers twitched as he remembered. He still saw the wight in his dreams, dead Othor with the burning blue eyes and the cold black hands,
George R R Martin
#17. The fact that he gave her the creeps just proved she was normal. He had the flat, dead face of an item turned out by machines. His eyes were cold as marbles pressed into dough. His insides went with the surface. He could beat a man insane or take it himself, and it didn't mean a thing to him.
Walter Kaylin
#18. I believe if I should die,
And you should kiss my eyelids where I lie
Cold, dead, and dumb to all the world contains,
The folded orbs would open at thy breath,
And from its exile in the Isles of Death
Life would come gladly back along my veins.
Mary Ashley Townsend
#19. Too unconcerned to love and too passionless to hate, too detached to be selfish and too lifeless to be unselfish, too indifferent to experience joy and too cold to express sorrow, they are neither dead nor alive; they merely exist.
Martin Luther King Jr.
#20. So many birds sitting around, on a dead wire, a bare branch, a cold ground, a drifting seashore; never realizing the glory in their wings and where it can take them, nor the envy as we look on them.
Anthony Liccione
#21. Ugh! Why couldn't anyone ever trust her? She wasn't a two-year-old. If her kindness killed her, then she was better off dead than living a cold, unfeeling life where she misered up all her feelings and possessions.' (Sunshine)
Sherrilyn Kenyon
#22. Seize the day. Because, believe it or not, each and every one of us in this room is one day going to stop breathing, turn cold, and die.
Robin Williams
#23. I'm independent as a hog on ice and a hog on ice is dead, cold, well-preserved and don't need a mother'grabbin, thing.
Alice Childress
#24. Why go for something cold and dead, when you can have something hot and panting?
K.R. Smith
#25. When I'm dead worn out, in a reverie, I often think that when it comes time to die, I want to breathe my last in a kitchen. Whether it's cold and I'm all alone, or somebody's there and it's warm, I'll stare death fearlessly in the eye. If it's a kitchen, I'll think, 'How good.
Banana Yoshimoto
#26. Ma'am," Cline said, "I hid under dead bodies less cold than you." He glanced at Harper and
Joe Hill
#27. When the salute had finished, people applauded, and the cold group began to break up.
"That's enough noise to wake the dead," a voice said very near Stella's ear.
J.J. Cook
#28. If he's dead, I'll never forgive you." I suddenly felt cold and frail and horrible numb.
Jason's reply was so soft that I almost missed it." I wont forgive myself, either.
Kathleen Peacock
#29. Without the story - in which everyone living, unborn and dead, participates - men are no more than bits of paper blown on the cold wind.
George Mackay Brown
#30. They were in good spirits, scrubbed and combed, clean shirts all. Each foreseeing a night of drink, perhaps of love. How many youths have come home cold and dead from just such nights and just such plans.
Cormac McCarthy
#31. Soon we will plunge ourselves into cold shadows, and all of summer's stunning afternoons will be gone. I already hear the dead thuds of logs below falling on the cobblestones and the lawn.
Charles Baudelaire
#32. Elisa thought how empty the prayers sounded. The words rattled around in the ancient rafters and then returned to them like dead leaves falling from the trees. No life. No shade of hope. Only a cold wind that blew into their very souls.
Bodie Thoene
#33. Reasons never matter, once Death comes cold and bold and takes the living by the hand. You count up your dead, every one..
Janet Morris
#34. Dead drunk and cold-sober, he wandered out into the garden in the cool of the evening, awaiting the coming of the Lord.
Peter De Vries
#35. Adina sat up. "It's denigrating and objectifying."
"No. It's eye shadow and lipstick and sex and mystery and magic and transformation and fun. And nobody's taking that away from me. You will pry my Petal Power lip gloss out of my cold, dead hands," Shanti insisted.
Libba Bray
#36. I told him they built a statue of Schultz, and then he said that a monument is cold comfort to a dead man, and then I said that the statue was built not for Schultz, but for us
to remind us how to be human.
John Green
#37. Oh, my Margaret
my Margaret! no one can tell what you are to me! Dead
cold as you lie there you are the only woman I ever loved! Oh, Margaret
Margaret!
Elizabeth Gaskell
#38. I didn't have to look to know who it was; this was a voice I would know anywhere - know, and respond to, whether I was awake or asleep ... or even dead, I'd bet. The voice I'd walk through fire for - or, less dramatically, slosh every day through the cold and endless rain for.
Stephenie Meyer
#39. And now he was dead, his soul fled down to the Sunless Country and his body lying cold in the cold mud, somewhere in the city's wake.
Philip Reeve
#40. He pushed a finger through the surface of the water to trace the outline of her mouth. Ethereal bits of flesh floated loosely about his knuckle and nail. Then, calmly, he pulled her body up out of the tub and into his arms. He placed his lips on hers, now as cold and dead as his own.
P.J. Parker
#41. And when, on the still cold nights, he pointed his nose at a star and howled long and wolflike, it was his ancestors, dead and dust, pointing nose at star and howling down through the centuries and through him.
Jack London
#42. Some kill their love when they are young,
and some when they are old;
some strangle with the hands of lust,
some with the hands of gold:
THE KINDEST USE A KNIFE, because
THE DEAD SO SOON GROW COLD.
Oscar Wilde
#43. They glowed in the darkness, all of them: pale shining wisps with rings of light where their eyes belonged, as if they were the dead - ghosts risen from their graves - not Gilbert Cline. Harper felt their grief as a slow current of cold water, and herself as a leaf revolving upon it. As
Joe Hill
#44. Soon this would just be who I was. Soon old me would be dead too. I tipped my head against the cold glass of the window. When I felt myself begin to cry, I didn't fight against it. And when I caught my refection in the dark window, I wasn't able to tell what was tears and what was rain.
Morgan Matson
#45. Bruges was his dead wife. And his dead wife was Bruges. The two were untied in a like destiny. It was Bruges-la-Morte, the dead town entombed in its stone quais, with the arteries of its canals cold once the great pulse of the sea had ceased beating in them.
Georges Rodenbach
#46. Love didn't end all at once, no matter how much you needed it to or how inconvenient it was. You couldn't command love to stop any more than a marriage document could order it to appear. Maybe love had to bleed away a drop at a time until your heart was numb and cold and mostly dead.
Mary E. Pearson
#47. Cold calling is not dead. To grow your business, you have to call people you don't know and don't know you
Timi Nadela
#48. And all was black and still, and black and cold, and black and dead, and black.
George R R Martin
#49. ,you were the light of a warm, sunny day, Tess. Darla was the dead of a cold, dark fuckin' night" His face got close and his voice got low when he finished, "it felt good to feel the sun again.
Kristen Ashley
#50. And then there were books, and more books, and yet more books - until everything we had wanted Christmas to be seemed present in the dead of those cold winters.
Joseph Bottum
#51. Or winters when the sloughs were frozen over and dead and i could walk across the ice and snow between the dead cattails and see nothing but grey skies and dead things and cold
Robert M. Pirsig
#52. But fame is theirs - and future days
On pillar'd brass shall tell their praise;
Shall tell - when cold neglect is dead -
"These for their country fought and bled."
Philip Freneau
#53. Here you lie in the tremendous web. Others are about you, but they are whole - whole hearts and bodies. But all of you that lives is back there walking the desolate seas in evening winds. This thing here, this cold clay thing, is already dead.
Ray Bradbury
#54. There were two ways to get through something like this, she finally realized. Being utterly dead inside and completely cold-blooded. Or being 100 percent obsessed with living.
B.G. Harlen
#55. I'm a big believer in pairing classics with contemporary literature, so students have the opportunity to see that literature is not a cold, dead thing that happened once but instead a vibrant mode of storytelling that's been with us a long time - and will be with us, I hope, for a long time to come.
John Green
#56. Though I enjoy the occasional eBook from time to time, I will only stop reading books printed on paper when they pry them from my cold, dead, withered hands, and even then, they will be hard pressed to take them from me.
H.L. Stephens
#57. The hospital room was as cold as dead skin, the hallway crowded with lost souls and reeking of illness.
Raquel Cepeda
#58. If Puck was dead, my world would become as cold and lifeless as the darkest night in the Winter Court
Julie Kagawa
#59. And time would open up to us and we would be the teachers of one another. All the things that gave you happiness would give me happiness; and I would be the protector of your pain. My power would be your power. My strength the same. But you're dead inside to me, you're cold and beyond reach!
Anne Rice
#60. He's fucking stone cold deadpan. His pan is so dead he could lay it in a casket and bury it at Bellevue. They made a movie about him once: Dawn of Ivan's Pan.
Charlotte Stein
#61. Mrs. Stubbs, and she pointed dramatically to the life-size head and shoulders of a burly man with a dead white rose in the buttonhole of his coat that made you think of a curl of cold mutting fat. Just below, in silver
Katherine Mansfield
#62. I'll be writing as long as I can hold a pen in my curled, crimped arthritic hands and then I'll dictate it, if it comes to that. They'll have to pry my pen out of my cold, dead fingers - and even then, I'll fight 'em for it. Guaranteed.
Wanda Lea Brayton
#63. Once a man is truly dead and carried pale and cold across the Styx--once Old Bones has put an arm about his shoulders and walked him through the Gate into Darkness--might Science yet summon him back?
Ian Weir
#64. 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.
J.R.R. Tolkien
#65. I'm king of the dead and I make my throne On a monument slab of marble cold; And my scepter of rule is the spade I hold: Come they from cottage or come they from hall, Mankind are my subjects, all, all, all! Let them loiter in pleasure or toilfully spin I gather them in, I gather them in!
Benjamin
#66. In the midst of fear Lyra knelt by Lanre's body and breathed his name. Her voice was a beckoning. Her voice was love and longing. Her voice called him to live again. But Lanre lay cold and dead.
Patrick Rothfuss
#67. I couldn't hear a thing in the world but you. And it was so cold then, and so silent, and I loved you so much. Now it's hot and dead quiet again, and I love you still.
John Green
#68. I am anger reborn and frustration unjustified. I am brutal hate and cold, dead winter. I am turning, tumbling in despair and there is no light, no warmth, no world, no heart.
Karina Halle
#69. Cross a man and you struggle, one of you wins, you adjust and go on
or you lie there dead. Cross a woman and the universe is changed, once again, for cold anger requires an eternal vigilance in all matters of slight and offence.
Gregory Maguire
#70. February is a suitable month for dying. Everything around is dead, the trees black and frozen so that the appearance of green shoots two months hence seems preposterous, the ground hard and cold, the snow dirty, the winter hateful, hanging on too long.
Anna Quindlen
#71. She is drawn to the river, and all its hideous, dead-eyed treasures: rot-bloated cats, and cold-meat corpses of unwanted infants, eels plucking at their tender fingers and toes.
Emmanuelle De Maupassant
#72. Yes, you are. your dead," i say. "you left me. i saw you. you left me. snd now i'm here in maine where everything is crazy and you can't run at night and it's cold.
Carrie Jones
#73. Instead of trying to hold on, to push myself into this force, I let go. And I fall into what I can't explain, into a sensation that is everything and nothing, light and dark, hot and cold, alive and dead. Soon the power is the only thing in my head, blotting out all my ghosts and memories.
Victoria Aveyard
#74. He stared dully at the desolate, cold road and the pale, dead night. Nothing was colder or more dead than his heart. He had loved an angel and now he despised a woman.
Gaston Leroux
#75. That little girl was dead and in her place stood a cold-blooded killer.
Reyna Pryde
#76. You have to be very deep to be dead, he thought, and I'm not. He began to have some concept of forever, and his mind shivered as his body had when he had wakened in the cold nights and thrust his hands between his thighs to keep warm. It will be a long night, he thought.
Peter S. Beagle
#77. Nobody should have to choose between a cold heart and a dead heart.
Nenia Campbell
#78. There is, you will concede, a limit to the niceties a man is obliged to fulfill when his wife is dead and not yet cold.
Allan Dare Pearce
#79. A cold coming we had of it, Just the worst time of the year For a journey, and such a long journey: The ways deep and the weather sharp, The very dead of winter.
T. S. Eliot
#80. For the past few weeks I have been laboring under the assumption that if people thought I was dead, they would stop annoying me and leave me alone.
I didn't respond right away. I examined his statement from every angle, and while I admired the logic, the cockeyed optimism left me cold.
Gary Reilly
#81. The marquis de Carabas looked up at him. His eyes were very white in the moonlight. And he whispered, What's it like being dead? It's very cold, my friend. Very dark, and very cold.
Neil Gaiman
#82. His hands were cold as ice, but he saved us from the dead men, him and his ravens, and he brought us here on his elk." "His elk?" said Bran, wonderstruck. "His elk?" said Meera, startled. "His ravens?" said Jojen. "Hodor?" said Hodor.
Anonymous
#83. Like the dead-seeming, cold rocks, I have memories within that came out of the material that went to make me. Time and place have had their say.
Zora Neale Hurston
#84. Inspiration was a temperamental guest. It dropped in unannounced, then left without so much as a goodbye, slipping out a window in the dead of night or sauntering out the front door, leaving the house empty, drafty, and cold.
Eric Wilson
#85. I have seen men march to the wars, and then I have watched their homeward tread, and they brought back bodies of living men, But their eyes were cold and dead.
Edmund Vance Cooke
#86. Because no windows were open and the air was so still and cold that the trees dared not move for fear of encountering more of it than they had to, Christiana thought that she had entered a city of the dead.
Mark Helprin
#87. I am He who howls in the night; I am He who moans in the snow; I am He who hath never seen light; I am He who mounts from below. My car is the car of Death; My wings are the wings of dread; My breath is the north wind's breath; My prey are the cold and the dead.
S.T. Joshi