Coppery Quotes & Sayings

In a heartbeat, he scarcely could take a breath.
Wearing not a stitch of clothing, Eva stood in thigh-deep water with her back to him.
Before he blinked, his gaze slid from coppery tresses brushing feminine shoulders to a tiny waist which fanned into glorious heart-shaped buttocks. Heaven's stars, her flawless skin had to be as pure white as fresh cream.
God on the cross, save me.
Christ, he was only a flesh and blood man. Who on earth could resist such a temptation? He clenched his teeth and growled. Frigid water or nay, he lengthened like a stallion catching scent of a filly in heat. God's teeth, even his ballocks turned to balls of tight molten steel. — Amy Jarecki

She could taste the terror she'd felt when she'd first seen the Ravener. The taste was sharp and coppery on her tongue like old pennies. — Cassandra Clare

It was through this odor that he saw the museums and discovered the mystery and the profusion of baroque genius which filled Prague with its gold magnificence. The altars, which glowed softly in the darkness, seemed borrowed from the coppery sky, the misty sunlight so frequent over the city. The glistening scrolls and spirals, the elaborate setting that looked as if it were cut out of gold paper, so touching in its resemblance to the creches made for children at Christmas, the grandiose and grotesque baroque perspectives affected Mersault as a kind of infantile, feverish, and overblown romanticism by which men protect themselves against their own demons. The god worshipped here was the god man fears and honors, not the god who laughs with man before the warm frolic sea and sun. — Albert Camus

I think the very word stalking implies that you're not supposed to like it. Otherwise, it would be called 'fluffy harmless observation time'. — Molly Harper

It's fine, Mencheres. Though if you'd told me I was about to meet such a legendary vampire, I would have grabbed the nicer silk drapery to wear instead, she replied, meeting Vlad's coppery green gaze with an arched brow. — Jeaniene Frost

Do you remember infinity?"
Slowly, I turned around. "What about it?"
Tossing something toward me, he said, "Catch."
I reached out and caught it in the air. A silver necklace. I held it up and examined it. The infinity necklace.
It didn't shine the way it used to; it looked a bit coppery now. But I recognized it. Of course I recognized it.
"What is this?" I asked.
"You know what it is," he said.
I shrugged. "Nope, sorry."
I could see that he was both hurt and angry. "Okay, then. You don't remember it. I'll remind you. I bought
you that necklace for your birthday."
My birthday.
It had to have been for my sixteenth birthday. It was the only year he ever forgot to buy me a birthday
present - the last summer we'd all been together at the beach house, when Susannah was still alive. — Jenny Han

The coppery smell of blood filled his senses. It was so damn strong. He'd been surrounded by blood before, covered in it a few times when he'd been with the SAS, but this was different. — Lexi Blake

Your Majesty," he greeted. His respectful expression turned sour as he addressed Iko, "Madame Counselor." Iko's eyes went coppery with pride at her new title, even though she met the guard with a sour glare of her own. — Marissa Meyer

The coppery stink of blood combined with the sickly sweet smell of rotting leaves, and the result was not pleasant. — Graeme Reynolds

He wasn't a pretty boy, his nose was crooked and his grin lopsided, but he had that square-jawed, salt-of-the-earth handsome look that made a girl think of loose-hipped cowboys and demanding Scottish Lairds. And speaking of Scottish Lairds, old mate was a redhead. Usually gingers weren't her scene but this guy's hair was the rich coppery-auburn of a fox's pelt. It gleamed like rose gold under the floodlights, his short beard the exact colour as the stuff on his head. Big Red was doing it for her. Big time. And apparently, the feeling was mutual. — Eve Dangerfield

It's not the glitter, but the love, that makes things beautiful. — Debasish Mridha

He had been diagnosed as suffering from atypical schizophrenia. Lord, how he hated that awful-sounding label. It conjured up visions of some deranged maniac escaped from a secure mental hospital. — Etienne De L'Amour

She had been an untamed mestiza of the so-called shopkeeper aristocracy: seductive, rapacious, brazen, with a hunger in her womb that could have satisfied an entire barracks. In a few short years, however, she had been erased from the world by her abuse of fermented honey and cacao tablets. Her Gypsy eyes were extinguished and her wits dulled, she shat blood and vomited bile, her sirens body became as bloated and coppery as a three-day-old corpse, and she broke wind in pestilential explosions that startled the mastiffs. She almost never left her bedroom, and when she did she was nude or wearing a silk tunic with nothing underneath, which made her seem more naked than if she wore nothing at all. — Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Jamie, who had insisted on walking most of the way to spare the horse, was a disreputable sight indeed, hose stained to the knees with reddish dust, spare shirt torn by brambles and a week's growth of beard bristling fiercely from cheek and jaw. His hair had grown long enough in the last months to reach his shoulders. Usually clubbed into a queue or laced back, it was free now, thick and unruly, with small bits of leaf and stick caught in the disordered coppery locks. Face burned a deep ruddy bronze, boots cracked from walking, dirk and sword thrust through his belt, he looked a wild Highlander indeed. — Diana Gabaldon

Avery," Kane began, but Avery wasn't interested in listening to anything else his husband had to say on the matter. He grabbed Kane's face between his palms and silenced him with a demanding kiss. Kane responded immediately, melting against him and returning the kiss with such ferocity that he swore he tasted the coppery tang of blood on his tongue. Kane had always been responsive to his advances and that always turned him on, but just knowing Kane still craved his touch after all these years made his dick twitch and swell painfully against the binding material of his trousers. Avery broke from the sweet taste of Kane's mouth long enough to draw the shirt up over Kane's head and toss it to the floor. — Kindle Alexander

The designer ... has a passion for doing something that fits somebody's needs, but that is not just a simple fix. The designer has a dream that goes beyond what exists, rather than fixing what exists ... the designer wants to create a solution that fits in a deeper situational or social sense. — David E. Kelley

I enjoy every minute, because there are going to be a lot of moments in your future that you're going to wish you held onto longer. — Joe Nichols

People say keeping it real is a hard thing to do. Keeping it real is easy. Being fake and being soft is hard to do. — Trick Daddy

Seated atop the creature was a mermaid. She carried a crossbow. A sword hung from her hip. Her coppery hair, cut short, was angled over her forehead and cheekbones. Her green eyes blazed with fury.
'Go, Sera!' Becca shouted. 'Take back your throne! — Jennifer Donnelly

see, when I'm not paying attention to my barriers, I can glimpse other people's thoughts. I catch them like lingering aftertastes or smells they leave in their wake: bitter envy, coppery anger, sour regret, the foul miasma of malice and cruelty. — Jason Heller

If you were to destroy the belief in immortality in mankind, not only love but every living force on which the continuation of all life in the world depended, would dry up at once. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Fear has a lot of flavors and textures. There's a sharp, silver fear that runs like lightning through your arms and legs, galvanizes you into action, power, motion. There's heavy, leaden fear that comes in ingots, piling up in your belly during the empty hours between midnight and morning, when everything is dark, every problem grows larger, and every wound and illness grows worse. And there is coppery fear, drawn tight as the strings of a violin, quavering on one single note that cannot possibly be sustained for a single second longer - but goes on and on and on, the tension before the crash of cymbals, the brassy challenge of the horns, the threatening rumble of the kettle drums. That's the kind of fear I felt. Horrible, clutching tension that left the coppery flavor of blood on my tongue. Fear of the creatures in the darkness around me, of my own weakness, the stolen power the Nightmare had torn from me. And fear for those around me, for the folk who didn't have the power I had. — Jim Butcher

When she made her way to the big picture window that framed the dining room table she froze. She stopped breathing. The anger was growing again.
It grew up into her throat, where she could taste it, coppery like blood, in the back of her mouth. It grew down into her stomach, where it knotted her intestines. It made her arms stiffen and her shoulders lock. It pushed against her ribs until she felt they would snap like sticks. — Ann Brashares

You don't know me, but I know about you ... I can't make you live longer. I can't stop you from hurting. But I can give you one wish, as someone did for me. — Lurlene McDaniel

When I was 13, I was in my tent at Girl Scout camp, trying to change out of my bathing suit and talking at the same time. I fell out of the tent in front of everyone with my bathing suit around my ankles. I was humiliated - but no amount of humiliation has ever seemed to stop me. — Casey Wilson

A painter should begin every canvas with a wash of black, because all things in nature are dark except where exposed by the light. — Leonardo Da Vinci

One last mystery: on one of the little ponds, this morning, I saw wind riffling the first of the waterlily leaves. They haven't all emerged yet, but new circles tattoo the water, here and there, a coppery red. When the wind lifted their edges, each would reveal a little shadowy spot, a dot of black which seemed to flash on the water, and so across the whole surface of the pond there was what could only be described as the inverse of sparkling; a scintillant blackness. Shining blackly, black but rippling, lyrical: the sheen and radiance of death-in-life.
Is that my work, to point to the world and say, See how darkly it sparkles? — Mark Doty

Her hair, just long enough now to tie back in a knot, had a coppery sheen, a hint of fire in the darkness. — Philip Sington

The images start to darken and she feels another hunger well up in her, this one having to do with another kind of desire. The desire to feed, to possess, and the aggressive thrill of a predator capturing and killing its prey as it tears into unspoiled flesh. Its teeth ripping and rending and the satisfying coppery taste of blood. There is the ultimate moment of surrender of drinking away the life essence. The pinnacle of lust which mounts in the very last breath, when the light drains from the victim's eyes and when the soul fades ... Then there is only a triumphant cry to the moonlight and the beckoning depths of the ever waiting water. — Melissa St. Hilaire

The actual and potential harm of use of the drug is not great enough to justify intrusion by the criminal law into private behavior, a step which our society takes only 'with the greatest reluctance'. — Raymond P. Shafer

Harry looked down and saw deep green mountains and lakes, coppery in the sunset. — J.K. Rowling

From folk to tribal to Cab Calloway, Cole Porter, Gershwin to the Rolling Stones, whose first record was all covers, to country-western, bebop, blues, and even the referencing in classic hip hop to cliched love ballads of the '80s or whatever - that is kinda gone, and that's just terrifying to me. — Cat Power

Spaceflight is nothing less than the exterior metaphor for the shamanic voyage. In other words, in our terms, the hallucinogenic experience. This is the way engineers get high. They go to the moon! — Terence McKenna

The storm was borne on greenish winds. It began as a coppery taste in the back of one's mouth, a metallic ache that amplified as the clouds darkened and advanced, and when it struck, it was with the flat hand of a senseless fury. — Eleanor Catton

As Rhys closed his eyes, he saw those stunning hazel eyes, those full lips, that long tumble of dark, coppery curls, and, last but not least, that tight little body that made his fingers itch to touch her. — Sibylla Matilde

Being alone is better than being your whore. — Lori Jenessa Nelson

Sin spied a straw-covered head peeping over the side of the wagon. Once the man disappeared from sight, the woman scrambled from the cart, with the boy one step behind. No one seemed to notice her peculiar activity, or if they did, they ignored it. She took a moment to dust the straw off them, but somehow she missed a piece that hung in the midst of one coppery curl. It bobbed as she moved.
Simon laughed as she took the boy's hand and led him through the crowd. "Why was she hiding?"
"She seeks to escape royal custody."
The mirth faded from Simon's eyes. "Should we notify the guards?"
"Nay, I think we can manage to retake her."
"Then what are we waiting for?"
"I have no idea. I simply like watching her maneuver."
-Simon, Sin, Callie & Jamie — Kinley MacGregor

When Ben turned, his dark eyes danced with yellow light. Already handsome, flaring took his attractiveness to a whole new level. Ben's coppery skin practically glowed in the evening light. I turned quickly, surprised by the color rising to my cheeks. — Kathy Reichs