She Was The Light Quotes

#1. She was the light of our lives, our anchor, compass and vision.

Ralph Nader

#2. She was gravity. She was the light in the darkest of my days, and her smile ignited a flame inside of me that had gone out a long time ago.

Teresa Mummert

#3. Now he was singed by pain. When he finally opened his eyes he saw, at the end of the narrow green path, dazzlingly bright light. There she is, he thought breathlessly, there she is. With a shout of joy and deliverance he plunged forward to meet the light.

Hella S. Haasse

#4. She was shining a light on us, she was coming into being, endlessly being formed and reformed as the muscles in her face worked at smiling and speaking, as the electronic dots swarmed.

Don DeLillo

#5. The harsh light above them caught her face, and Sean could see what she'd look like when she was much older - a handsome woman, scarred by wisdom she never asked for.

Dennis Lehane

#6. She stood by the tea-table in a light-coloured muslin gown, which had a good deal of pink about it. She looked as if she was not attending to the conversation, but solely busy with the tea-cups, among which her round ivory hands moved with pretty, noiseless, daintiness.

Elizabeth Gaskell

#7. For the first time, she was feeling him; finally seeing him in the light like he wanted her to.

Mesha Mesh

#8. There was a much smaller room on the other side. It was merely the size of, say, a cathedral. And it was lined floor to ceiling with more hourglasses that Susan could just see dimly in the light from the big room. She stepped inside and snapped her fingers.

Terry Pratchett

#9. She looked out the window; in her eyes was the light that you see only in children arriving at a new place, or in young people still open to new influences, still curious about the world because they have not yet been scarred by life.

Orhan Pamuk

#10. There was no light in their rooms save that of the silver moon through the bars, and the occasional passage of a lamp by the attendant walking the halls. She could not see the color of his eyes, only the wet gleam of them.

Christina Henry

#11. Can I help you? She was middle height and very pretty. He had an overall impression of fine bones and white linen, topped with a wealth of curly brown hair in a sort of half-tamed chignon. And in the middle of it all, the most extraordinary pair of light eyes, just the color of well-aged sherry.

Diana Gabaldon

#12. She was like a star, always so distant. Even the light she shone on me was always cold.

Liu Cixin

#13. It seemed to travel with her, to sweep her aloft in the power of song, so that she was moving in glory among the stars, and for a moment she, too, felt that the words Darkness and Light had no meaning, and only this melody was real.

Madeleine L'Engle

#14. Sometimes heaven was feeling nothing. Maybe being drunk was a little like dying and going to heaven. Like living in the light. He kept thinking of Ileana. She was eight now.

Benjamin Alire Saenz

#15. I did a song, "Court and Spark," for a Joni Mitchell tribute album that's yet to see the light of day. So she's someone I'd like to do something with, sure. I worked with the great guitar player Bill Frisell on Phantom Moon - that was fun. I'm such a fan; he's amazing.

Duncan Sheik

#16. She walked to the door and looked at him with an affection that was at once hopeful and melancholic. Like light was both particle and wave.

Manu Joseph

#17. In one swift motion she's out of his arms twirling about. Startled and then ecstatic, she feels lighter than air, laughing in spite of herself. Light hearted, she keeps spinning feeling the stress and pain strip away from her. She was surprised by how confident she felt. How alive.

Solange Nicole

#18. You never learn the first time. You always have to get hit twice before you see it coming. He was seeing now what he'd seen that first night at Pure. A bright shiny light he wanted to catch in his hands and hold forever. If she let him.

Rachel Gibson

#19. And the light by which she had read the book filled with troubles, falsehoods, sorrow, and evil, flared up more brightly than ever before, lighted up for her all that had been in darkness, flickered, began to grow dim, and was quenched forever.

Leo Tolstoy

#20. He paid scant attention to the conversation. He could smell his own sent on Anna's body, and it satisfied him in a primal way ... She gasped as he buried his nose in her maiden hair and inhaled. His scent was strongest here, in her gilded curls so soft and pretty in the morning light.

Elizabeth Hoyt

#21. I don't blame her for walking away; I shoved her out the door and told her to go. I should have realized that she was my light. She was everything bright and beautiful about my life and it went to shit after she left. I'm going to fix this. I have to fix this.

Tara Sivec

#22. Which was how Britteny ended up nestled next to Mickey, under the shelter of a painter's drop cloth.
She felt no pain.
She saw no light.
She heard, but barely.
Her heart was still and silent.
Yet she did not die.

Michael Grant

#23. Most had faded to a light jade by now ... all except Chandra, I noted, with more than a little satisfaction. She was still a dazzling Day-Glo emerald, and I gave a little finger wave from across the room. She merely returned the finger.

Vicki Pettersson

#24. The light was luminescence and gloom, like the sky at midnight speckled with stars. All she could smell was the ocean...

Samantha Lee Churcher

#25. I'm fine, she said. But her smile was bleak, without light or warmth. And for the first time I thought of what it must be like to know that you were going to die, that the trees would bud, flower, leaf, dry, die, and you would not be there to see any of it.

Anna Quindlen

#26. Nobody could have put her in the shade, blown out her light that evening; she was too evidently shining.

Elizabeth Von Arnim

#27. She was fire, and light, and ash, and embers. She was Aelin Fireheart, and she bowed for no one and nothing, save the crown that was hers by blood and survival and triumph.

Sarah J. Maas

#28. Betty had her crocheting out again. The morning light winked off her needles and Olivia recognized that she was making a baby blanket.

Ellery Adams

#29. The girl clung to the boy so she could chase away her dark. He was light, and she was fading. She was drowning, and she just couldn't stop.

Rachel E. Carter

#30. I once saw a small child go to an electric light switch as say, "Mamma, can I open the light?" She was using the age-old language of exploration, the language of art. It was a sort of metaphor, but she was not using it as ornamentation.

Ezra Pound

#31. Kiril sat up and raked a hand through his hair. In the light of dawn, Shara was still on his mind. She was a Dark, a spy sent to monitor a spy.

Donna Grant

#32. Hope replaced fear. Light subsumed darkness. Strength, born of the power of this presence, mingled with Kathryn's own determination and reordered the last of her mangled body and soul, realigning them into all that she had once been.
What she would now be was once again an open question.

Kirsten Beyer

#33. How very lovely she was, with the muted light of the afternoon falling over her shoulder like a veil! How gorgeously the shadow filled that notch beneath her lip!

Eleanor Catton

#34. She sat there, with her feet in the water, not doing a thing, and all I could think was that this woman had changed my life. She'd changed the very universe I lived in - not by her actions or words, but with the curl of her lips as she smiled and the light in her eyes when she gazed upon mine.

Helen Cooper

#35. In the light of the crappy little lamp, all I was looking at was a frizzy mop of blonde hair and a bare back with one big angry red patch on it, but Jesus fucking God she was beautiful, and if you don't understand that, I'm sorry for you.

John Barnes

#36. He remembers night, sleep, the bed, their shared comas,
A certain source of fondness in the night.
(She saw, no, expected, a dawn from every light.
Such was her fault)

Iain Banks

#37. I needed to hear her voice because everything was getting dark in me and she's the only light I've found since all this shit happened. I just thought, if she would answer, if she would answer, maybe I could, I don't know, just tell her in the right way why I was so messed up.

Heather Demetrios

#38. He felt the pressure of her love as she squeezed his fingers, and then there was nothing. Except the pain. But nothing else, no Heather, no hospital, no staff men, no light. And no sound. It was an eternal moment and it absorbed him completely.

Philip K. Dick

#39. Her black brows, her reddish-tawny hair and the pure red and white of her complexion defied the searching decomposing radiance: she might have been some fabled creature whose home was in a beam of light.

Edith Wharton

#40. It occurred to Rosie that she couldn't hide either, even though the truth had been hidden from her. Now she was out from the shadows, out in the open for the first time in her life, standing in the harsh light.

Denny Taylor

#41. Just like that - in one apocalyptic moment - simple and beautiful. A birth. But also a kind of death. Like lightning in a storm. In one flash of light, the whole desert was lit, and you could see the universe. That's what she had seen - the universe in the hands of a child feeling the face of a man.

Benjamin Alire Saenz

#42. She was the breeze on a summer's day, the first drops of rain when the earth was parched, light from the evening star.

Kate Morton

#43. She was the most beautiful, terrible thing he'd ever seen, like an acetylene flame, an incandescent filament, a fallen star right in front of him.

Lev Grossman

#44. Father lied.
The knowledge tasted bitter on her tongue. She folded the
orb into a scarf she'd brought. It didn't conceal its light, but it was
better than carrying the orb through the halls exposed.

Jennifer M. Zeiger

#45. She was afraid of these things that made her suddenly wonder who she was, and what she was going to be in the world, and why she was standing at that minute, seeing a light, or listening, or staring up into the sky: alone.

Carson McCullers

#46. I began to see how deep the well of her loving was, and how much her happiness and confidence depended on drawing that love into the light, and sharing it. And love was beautiful in her. It was a clear sky she gave us with those eyes, and a summer morning with her smile.

Gregory David Roberts

#47. And then, somehow she knew that God was not the light, and God was not the darkness, and not anybody at all. Maybe, God was not...

Miriam Katin

#48. Dallas sprawled behind, and Six had no doubt the man was aware of everything. Of Lex and Rachel, of the area beyond their circle of light, of every possible variable. Hell, he probably knew how many breaths Six had taken since she sat down.

Kit Rocha

#49. I am so saddened by the loss of our dear friend, Bonnie Franklin. She was just full of light and love. Bonnie will be very much missed by all the people she touched with her love.

Mackenzie Phillips

#50. It was time. One breath - another. She was the heir of fire. She was fire, and light, and ash, and embers. She was Aelin Fireheart, and she bowed for no one and nothing, save the crown that was hers by blood and survival and triumph. Aelin

Sarah J. Maas

#51. Sophie opened one sleepy eye. A chink of light had found its way through a gap in the bedroom curtains and was falling on her face. She felt her husband slide his cold body down under the duvet and raised her head. She spotted a steaming mug of tea on her beside cabinet.

Michael Hambling

#52. She wore blue velvet
Bluer than velvet was the night
Softer than satin was the light
From the stars
She wore blue velvet
Bluer than velvet were her eyes
Warmer than May her tender sighs

Bernie Wayne

#53. So much for the bimbo alert; if she read books like that, then there was a light on upstairs, above the splendid front porch.

C.I. Dennis

#54. My wife was afraid of the dark ... then she saw me naked and now she's afraid of the light.

Rodney Dangerfield

#55. She was craving anything real - bad smells and stupid men, missed trains and tedious jobs. But she remembered that mixed up in the ugly parts of reality were also those true moments of grace - peaches in September, honest laughter, perfect light.

Shannon Hale

#56. She could not tell him that she protested because she did not believe he loved her enough to become his wife. It was no ordinary man but the Prince of Light who was asking her to be his bride. And, she thought gloomily, what sacrifice might she have disregarded had his gaze been only for her?

Noriko Ogiwara

#57. Annabeth laced her fingers through his. In the light of his bronze sword, her face was beautiful.
'We're together,' she reminded him. 'We'll get through this.

Rick Riordan

#58. There was so much time lost and the Hell was over. Just when I was beginning to lose faith, Abby pulled me out of the dark.
She was my light. Pure and beautiful.

Ashlan Thomas

#59. She was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms.
"I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."
"Light?" said Ron.

J.K. Rowling

#60. She never allowed the external world to change her soul, that was her magic.

Nikki Rowe

#61. The new moon that Veronika loved best because there was still room for it to grow, to expand, to fill the whole of its surface with light before its inevitable decline. She

Paulo Coelho

#62. She tucked her lips in and eyed the pancakes Tristan pulled from the pan. "Making a midnight snack?"
She tried to sound light and casual. Normal. Friendly.
Not because Tristan deserved it, but because she wanted pancakes. And Tristan, apparently, was keeper of the pancakes.

Chelsea Fine

#63. So the two went: the boy who had escaped from darkness because he loved light more than he knew and the girl who had become ordinary because she did not realize how wonderful it was to be a princess.

David R. Mains

#64. She ate her breakfast in silence, then drove downtown in weather so lowering the streetlights seemed decapitated. This was when you could discover if your preparations for winter were adequate, and if you were ready for the restrictions of movement and light that were about to be upon you.

Thomas McGuane

#65. Mary awoke from her nightmare with a pounding heart, convinced that she had only imagined Elizabeth's cruel plot. A full moon was shining into her chamber, illuminating everything around her in silvery light. That was when she noticed for the first time that there were bars on her window.

Margaret George

#66. She never knew where he was, in what city or on what continent, the day after she had seen him. He always came to her unexpectedly - and she liked it, because it made him a continuous presence in her life, like the ray of a hidden light that could hit her at any moment.

Ayn Rand

#67. It had been impossible to get away from her own darkness. Or so she thought.
Here she was basking in the light of a beautiful bad man.

V. Theia

#68. In the flickering lantern light, she looked like an avenging angel standing there. Her hair was a tangled mess and her face was swollen to hell, but her hand was rock steady on that weapon, even with the pain she had to be in. The deadly intent was clear on her face.

Kaylea Cross

#69. Whatever happened behind now was simply that: behind. Lyra had left it. She felt she was leaving the world altogether, so remote and intent she was, so high they were climbing, so strange and uncanny was the light that bathed them.

Philip Pullman

#70. She smoked because she craved something to do with her hands, that delicate interplay of light and cup and first inhale. Craved the repetition of it. It was so difficult sometimes to be still in a room, alone with oneself. To bare oneself to the lonely.

Kate Zambreno

#71. She also realized that there must be something to this tapping since today was the first day in a long time that she felt hopeful and flooded with new ideas. "With love, light, laughter, and with ease.

Tessa Cason

#72. Nothing she did
or said
was quite
what she meant
but still her life
could be called a monument
shaped in a slant
of available light
and set to the movement
of possible music

Carol Shields

#73. The sheath that held her soul had assumed significance - that was all. She was a sun, radiant, growing, gathering light and storing it - then after an eternity pouring it forth in a glance, the fragment of a sentence, to that part of him that cherished all beauty and all illusion.

F Scott Fitzgerald

#74. She was magic, a direct light - the kind that seeps through in places that didn't exist inside him anymore. The light he thought he lost forever, but Nick realized we don't lose the light, we absorb it, and with Olivia he wanted to absorb every small speck of it.

Maria La Serra

#75. Night fell, the first I had spent not embracing a rock, and perhaps for this reason it seemed cruelly shorter to me. The light tended at every moment to erase Ayl, to cast a doubt on her presence, but the darkness restored my certainty she was there.

Italo Calvino

#76. What she had, and what Miles would because of her, why that was the point of it all. Wasn't that a brilliant thing? She'd had her shine. And now, somewhere, somehow, for a heart she'd never know, to light a sky she'd never see, someone else was preparing for theirs.

Stephanie Kuehn

#77. She'd ended up passing out, and sometime later, John must have gotten up to use the loo and left the light on. Probably to make sure she didn't feel lost if she woke up.
Because that's the kind of male he was.

J.R. Ward

#78. This child is not mine as the first was; I cannot sing it to rest; I cannot lift it up fatherly, And bless it upon my breast. Yet it lies in my little one's cradle, And sits in my little one's chair, And the light of the heaven she 's gone to Transfigures its golden hair.

James Russell Lowell

#79. Miss N. had taught her nurses to watch carefully in order to understand what the ill required and provide it. Not medicine - that was the doctors' domain - but the things she argued were equally crucial to recovery: light, air, warmth, cleanliness, rest, comfort, nourishment, and conversation.

Emma Donoghue

#80. When Frey asked students to draw the creation, the other kids drew animals and Adam and Eve. Caroline covered her paper in black crayon, then held it up to reveal she had punched out holes for the stars and the moon. 'And then there was light', she said ...

Christopher Andersen

#81. SHE FELT a hard pinch on her neck. "Hey!" she protested. Her eyelids flew open. The light was unbearably bright, just as painful, but everything was gauzy and indistinct, like there was a white scrim over everything. She wondered whether she'd fallen back asleep for several hours.

Joseph Finder

#82. The mere thought that she was alone and surrounded by books gave her a near-sensuous thrill. As she looked around her room, dark escaper for the slash of light near her lamp, and saw the vague outlines of her books, she asked herself 'Have I not the whole world?

Andrew Wilson

#83. The Wanderer
What is she like?
I was told
she is a
melancholy soul.
She is like
the sun to the night;
a momentary gold.
A star when dimmed
by dawning light;
the flicker of
a candle blown.
A lonely kite
lost in flight
someone once
had flown.

Lang Leav

#84. Clammy, stomach clenched, the way she felt when she was about to vomit. Not again. She searched for another light source. A

Brandon Sanderson

#85. A certain something, he felt, had managed to work its way in through a tiny opening and was trying to fill a blank space inside him. The void was not one that she had made. It had always been there inside him. She had merely managed to shine a special light on it.

Haruki Murakami

#86. In the morning, her head swimming with chiaroscuro dreams of shadows and light, she awoke in the pink room of the MacLeod House. Jason was already dressed, and stared at her from the foot of

Robert Levy

#87. California: the valley of the sun. It would be just his luck that she was here, where the daylight hours seemed to last longer than anywhere else. Where, even if he found her, he'd be bound to staying in the shadows as she walked in the light.

Rose Blackman

#88. Pea was aware suddenly of how fragile her heart was, how much darkness was inside it, fighting, always, with the light. She did not like the rat. She would neverlike the rat, but she knew what she must do to save her own heart.

Kate DiCamillo

#89. It's all part of the dance, she thought; the dust, her hands, the light that was spiraling around her: it's all part of the same wonderful dance. And I'm in it.

Clive Barker

#90. There was a young lady of Wight Who travelled much faster than light. She departed one day, In a relative way, And arrived on the previous night. The point is that the theory of relativity says that there is no unique measure of time that all observers will agree on.

Stephen Hawking

#91. She sat beside him on the bench, and her presence troubled him. He was inside the atmosphere, or light, or scent she spread, as a boat is inside the drag of a whirlpool, as a bee is caught in the lasso of perfume from the throat of a flower.

A.S. Byatt

#92. Honor was the light that flooded my darkness. She was the glasses to my partially blind eyes. Her kisses were like balm to my wounded soul. Her determination to survive even when odds were against her was my wakeup call.

Cambria Hebert

#93. Such a sky. The widest she'd ever seen. Even more than the long bow of the shoreline and the eternal spread of the sea, it was the sky Betsy could not fold into her understanding, the cliffs and hillocks of the land overturned, sculpted into the stony clouds and softened with the promise of light.

Alison Atlee

#94. My mother was the bringer of storms. The dark and the light. Death and rebirth. She was as dangerous as she was beautiful as she rode the lightning. Once a potent force of nature she had the nerve to look down on us from those lofty heights.

Scarlett Amaris

#95. The dirty red light was flashing. Over and over through the window. SEX! LIVE! SEX! LIVE! She was only eight, but her mind was quick. She wondered if people would pay to see dead sex.

J.D. Robb

#96. Her heart swelled with the high holiness of it all. Imminence was all around. She was both warrior and shining spear. She was a sword glinting in the depths of night, a lance of light piercing the darkness. There would be no mistakes this time.

Kate Atkinson

#97. She said she knew she was able to fly because when she came down she always had dust on her fingers from touching the light bulbs.

J.D. Salinger

#98. I was a product of a divorced family and I used humor as a weapon to combat sadness. I used comedy to make my mother laugh in light of the darkness that she faced, and to me it became a very powerful tool at a very young age, at six. I saw how therapeutic it could be.

Josh Gad

#99. And now, she was walking down the hall with her books clutched to her chest, looking down at the floor while guys called, Don't hide that light under a bushel!

E. Lockhart

#100. She was wearing blue jeans and a dark blue peasant blouse, the ties of the neck open. She looked so beautiful and soft, with her big brown eyes and her light brown hair shining in the afternoon light. He couldn't see the pink streak, and he had an incredible urge to find it.

Sarah Addison Allen