Crispness In The Air Quotes & Sayings

The world may see you as an ugly duckling, but God sees you as a magnificent swan. — Matshona Dhliwayo

Don't you want to get well? Come on, Portia, this won't be forever, mate: Dad's confident, everyone's behind you. Remember,' I gave her an encouraging punch on the arm, 'you'll never walk alone, even if you are an Evertonian.'

She burst into floods of tears. 'You mean I'll never walk again! — Tracey Morait

War is the statesman's game, the priest's delight, the lawyer's jest, the hired assassin's trade. — Percy Bysshe Shelley

Whoever invented smooth jazz, man, I wanna kill 'em: You're turning an art form into a hooker. — Phil Woods

I had to came to tell you how beautiful you look. Really, Jay, you look amazing. Hard to believe the raggedy little girl who punched me in the face could grow up to look like this. — Jillian Dodd

I stood on the old ferry dock and watched the icy sludge slide by. Patches of white ice slipped through, but mostly it was grey slush, sluggish and heavy looking. The air was sharp and clear, one of the few benefits of the evacuation and reducing temperature, the centuries-old odour of industry and modern life frozen and discarded, leaving a crispness previously only found among the peaks of mountain ranges. On the far bank stood the ruins of Birkenhead, where the riots had been particularly bad and the fires that followed were allowed to rage out of control. It had taken weeks for the conflagration to finally die, leaving behind soot-blackened husks of buildings, grotesque sculptures of melted glass and metal and more dead than anyone ever cared to count. — Neil Davies

Winters are a desolate time where all senses are wiped away, and here in Canada, this is especially true. All smells are sucked clean from the air, leaving only a harsh, icy crispness. Colours are stripped away, leaving a stark white landscape, a sky which stays black at night and gray in the day, a world of only three shades. Stay outside too long, and your hands will get so cold that they'll go numb and turn red, like the claws of a lobster. During a whiteout, even sight itself is reduced to nothingness. — Rebecca McNutt

What was stolen must be returned — Neil Finn

Many of the habits of dysfunctional families use are not from the lack of love but are the result of fear. Knowing the love-limiting habits and behaviors of dysfunctional families is a wonderful beginning to lower the fear, allowing us to be real, allowing us all to learn how to love better. — David W. Earle

But what Dakota most enjoyed about the beginning of winter was the crispness of the air (that practically demanded the wearing of knits) and the way that tough New Yorkers - on the street, in elevators, in subways - were suddenly willing to risk a smile. To make a connection with a stranger. To finally see one another after strenuously avoiding eye contact all year. — Kate Jacobs

Don Quixote is not just Don Quixote;
La Mancha is not just geography;
It is our personal territory
Terra Nostra. — Dejan Stojanovic

I didn't care how much work it would take, and I didn't see the time invested as a waste or like I was missing out on anything. Ballet became my ultimate passion. — Misty Copeland

What I remember most is that the laws of physics no longer seemed to apply. Gravity was backwards and the world was, I'm quite certain, moving in slow motion. His pull wasn't a pull; I was just falling upward, and he caught me. There really was no beginning or end to the kiss; it wasn't even really there- and because of that, it was tremendous. Our lips were just four sweet, shy people meeting, saying, "Hello, it's nice to meet you." But what passed between them was massive. Nuclear. And in an instant, every cobweb inside me was obliterated. My inner struggles, my uncertainty, my fear of tiger attack ... gone. Just the feeling of being a newborn, a pure soul just waiting to be imprinted upon. — James Patterson

Oh I don't mind going to weddings, just as long as it's not my own ... — Tom Waits

Autumn was his favourite time of year, not simply for its changing colours but for the crispness in the air and the sharpness of the light. As the leaves fell the landscape revealed itself, like a painting being cleaned or a building being renewed. He could see the underlying shape of things. This was what he wanted, he decided: moments of clarity and silence. — James Runcie