Cindery Quotes & Sayings

In their dreams they touch, they intertwine, it's more like a collision, and that is the end of flying. They fall to earth, fouled parachutists, botched and cindery angels, love streaming out behind them like torn silk. Enemy groundfire comes up to meet them. — Margaret Atwood

Nothing which we can imagine about Nature is incredible. — Pliny The Elder

Fear not; the things that you are afraid of are quite likely to happen to you, but they are nothing to be afraid of. — John Macmurray

Between my potential and the deep blue sea, There's a rock and a diamond either side of me. Between our potential and the break of day, There is nothing at all in our way ... — John Gorka

The final truth is not what we always expect it to be, nor even what we wish it to be. It is our courage, our will that brings us to this truth — Mark James

Sometimes I amaze even myself. — Erich Segal

All the freedom enjoyed in America, beyond what is enjoyed in England, is enjoyed solely by the disorderly at the expense of the orderly ... — Frances Trollope

So look carefully at the map of the microwave sky. It is the blueprint for all the structure in the universe. We are the product of quantum fluctuations in the very early universe. If one were religious, one could say that God really does play dice. — Stephen Hawking

Change yourself and you have done your part in changing the world — Paramahansa Yogananda

Flashing Lights In My Mind
Going Back to The Time
Playing Games in the Street
Kicking Balls with My Feet
Theres a Numb in my toes
Standing close to the edge
Theres a ball of my clothes at the end of your bed
As I feel myself fall
Make a joke of it all — One Direction

Once you start compromising your thoughts, you're a candidate for mediocrity. — Neil Simon

It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they executed the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York. I'm stupid about executions. The idea of being electrocuted makes me sick, and that's all there was to read about in the papers
goggle-eyed headlines staring up at me at every street corner and at the fusty, peanut-smelling mouth of every subway. It had nothing to do with me, but I couldn't help wondering what it would be like, being burned alive all along your nerves.
I thought it must be the worst thing in the world.
New York was bad enough. By nine in the morning the fake, country-wet freshness that somehow seeped in overnight evaporated like the tail end of a sweet dream. Mirage-gray at the bottom of their granite canyons, the hot streets wavered in the sun, the car tops sizzled and glittered, and the dry, cindery dust blew into my eyes and down my throat. — Sylvia Plath