Glides Quotes & Sayings

Not far from this village, perhaps about two miles, there is a little valley or rather lap of land among high hills, which is one of the quietest places in the whole world. A small brook glides through it, with just murmur enough to lull one to repose; and the occasional whistle of a quail or tapping of a woodpecker is almost the only sound that ever breaks in upon the uniform tranquillity. — Washington Irving

The sculptor represents the transition from one pose to another he indicates how insensibly the first glides into the second. In his work we still see a part of what was and we discover a part of what is to be. — Auguste Rodin

There, tam, la-bas, the gaze of men glows with inimitable understanding; there the freaks that are tortured here walk unmolested; there time takes shape according to one's pleasure, like a figured rug whose folds can be gathered in such a way that two designs will meet - and the rug is once again smoothed out, and you live on, or else superimpose the next image on the last, endlessly, endlessly, with the leisurely concentration of a woman selecting a belt to go with her dress - now she glides in my direction, rhythmically butting the velvet with her knees, comprehending everything and comprehensible to me ... There, there are the original of those gardens where we used to roam and hide in this world; there everything strikes one by its bewitching evidence, by the simplicity of perfect good; there everything pleases one's soul, everything is filled with the kind of fun that children know; there shines the mirror that now and then sends a chance reflection here ... — Vladimir Nabokov

This universe an old enchantment guards; Its objects are carved cups of World-Delight Whose charmed wine is some deep soul's rapture-drink: The All-Wonderful has packed heaven with his dreams, He has made blank ancient Space his marvel-house; He spilled his spirit into Matter's signs: His fires of grandeur burn in the great sun, He glides through heaven shimmering in the moon; He is beauty carolling in the fields of sound; He chants the stanzas of the odes of Wind; He is silence watching in the stars at night; He wakes at dawn and calls from every bough, Lies stunned in the stone and dreams in flower and tree. — Sri Aurobindo

The clear cold sunshine glances into the brittle woods, and approvingly beholds the sharp wind scattering the leaves and drying the moss. It glides over the park after the moving shadows of the clouds, and chases them, and never catches them, all day. It looks in the windows, and touches the ancestral portraits with bars and patches of brightness, never contemplated by the painters. — Charles Dickens

Only
but this is rare
When a beloved hand is laid in ours,
When, jaded with the rush and glare
Of the interminable hours,
Our eyes can in another's eyes read clear,
When our world-deafen'd ear
Is by the tones of a loved voice caress'd
A bolt is shot back somewhere in our breast,
And a lost pulse of feeling stirs again.
The eye sinks inward, and the heart lies plain,
And what we mean, we say, and what we would, we know.
A man becomes aware of his life's flow,
And hears its winding murmur; and he sees
The meadows where it glides, the sun, the breeze. — Matthew Arnold

Speech destroys the functions of love, I think - that's a hell of a thing for a writer to say, I guess, but I believe it to be true. If you speak to tell a deer you mean it no harm, it glides away with a single flip of its tail. The word is the harm. Love isn't what these asshole poets like McKuen want you to think it is. Love has teeth; they bite; the wounds never close. No word, no combination of words, can close those lovebites. It's the other way around, that's the joke. If those wounds dry up, the words die with them. Take it from me. I've made my life from the words, and I know that is so. — Stephen King

In her socks, Egg glides down the hallway, as if on ice. She's like the Flash, so fast you can see only a blur The Flash is almost invisible, but it's the almost that troubles her, the red streak of almost that catches the eye. Superheroes save the day. She knows they are fiction, but a part of her wants so much for them to be real, like Newton's equal and opposite forces. — Tamai Kobayashi

So down thy hill, romantic Ashbourn, glides The Derby dilly, carrying three INSIDES. — George Canning

His hand glides down my arm, folds over my hand. His fingers lace with mine, palms kissing. I can feel the fast thud of his heart through this single touch. — Sophie Jordan

You oughta see Kathy's brother. Now there's a hood. He's so greasy he glides when he walks. He goes to the barber for an oil change, not a haircut. — S.E. Hinton

Her head rests against my chest as my finger glides around her viscid pussy. — Aven Jayce

Oh swiftly glides the bonnie boat, Just parted from the shore, And to the fisher's chorus-note Soft moves the dipping oar. — Joanna Baillie

Maybelline's Precise Ink Pen Liner is by far the easiest liquid eyeliner I've ever used. I'm really bad at applying liquid liner, and it glides on so nicely and actually stays on all day. — Bethany Mota

The music glides between the pores of your skin to bubble through your veins in place of blood, and you can't help but clutch the mic with both trembling hands and let the song flow out of you like blood from a wound. In those moments, when the music has replaced everything and even awareness of your own body has faded, you can't breathe, can't do anything but let the song own you, let the performance rocket through you. There's no people, no problems in your life, no buzz of alcohol in your blood or pain in your heart. — Jasinda Wilder

She glides through the night. He punches into it, a boxing glove with razor blades for knuckles. When she passes, the world is a better place. He leaves bloody footprints in a graveyard of bones. — Karen Marie Moning

There is a commonplace book argument,
Which glibly glides from every vulgar tongue
When any dare a new light to present:
'If you are right, then everybody's wrong.'
Suppose the converse of this precedent
So often urged, so loudly and so long:
'If you are wrong, then everybody's right.'
Was ever everybody yet so quite? — George Gordon Byron

The girl's face looks greedy, haughty and very lazy. The cream-at-the-top-of-the-milkpail face of someone who will never work for anything; someone who picks up things lying on other people's dressers and is not embarrassed when found out. It is the face of a sneak who glides over to your sink to rinse the fork you have laid by her plate. An inward face
whatever it sees is its own self. You are there, it says, because I am looking at you. — Toni Morrison

she glides away as if she were the princess and I a dumpy maid in a sooty dress. While — Rae Carson

Winged time glides on insensibly, and deceive us; and there is nothing more fleeting than years. — Ovid

But grant, the virtues of a temp'rate prime
Bless with an age exempt from scorn or crime;
An age that melts with unperceived decay,
And glides in modest Innocence away — Samuel Johnson

Time is a stream which glides smoothly on and is past before we know. — Ovid

A running machine, that glides over mud, crud and goop. — Ed Eyestone

"Look ... " I find my voice again. "I'm sorry for scaring you by driving so crazy. I shouldn't have played on your fears like that."
He opens his door. As it glides upward on its hinges, he sets his feet on the ground and looks over his shoulder.
"You wish to apologize?" He grins. "Whyever for? Everyone has something that can be used against them. You set aside your innate compassionate nature and used my weakness to get what you wanted from me. That was well played. You followed your instincts and let down your inhibitions without my even having to coach you. — A.G. Howard

When summer gathers up her robes of glory, and like a dream of beauty glides away. — Sarah Helen Whitman

It often happens that in situations of unrestraint, where there is no thought of the eye of criticism, real feeling glides into a mode of manifestation not easily distinguishable from rodomontade. A veneer of affectation overlies a bulk of truth, with the evil consequence, if perceived, that the substance is estimated by the superficies, and the whole rejected. — Thomas Hardy

They cross the Channel at midnight. There are twelve and they are named for songs: Stardust and Stormy Weather and In the Mood and Pistol-Packin' Mama. The sea glides along far below, spattered with the countless chevrons of whitecaps. Soon enough, the navigators can discern the low moonlit lumps of islands ranged along the horizon. — Anthony Doerr

This kind of thinking, he found, is not the way to make one's self popular with other birds. Even his parents were dismayed as Jonathan spent whole days alone, making hundreds of low-level glides, experimenting. — Richard Bach

He who postpones the hour of living as he ought, is like the rustic who waits for the river to pass along (before he crosses); but it glides on and will glide forever.
[Lat., Vivendi recte qui prorogat horam
Rusticus expectat dum defluat amnis; at ille
Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis aevum.] — Horace

I dream of silent verses where the rhyme glides noiseless as an oar. — Richard Aldington

Holding back a cough and splutter I cover my mouth with my hand, so as not to lose any of the precious nectar I'm holding. Oh my! I intently watch the next guest to arrive in the reception, mesmerised, for all I know he could be walking on water for how his streamlined and buff body glides to the desk. — A.J. Walters

I know I talk a lot of shit ... but I'm serious." His warm thumb glides over my cheek and then across my bottom lip. "And since we can't be loud for your dad's sake, let me be gentle. Let me show you how much I care. — Skyla Madi

A gentleman doesn't pounce he glides. If a woman sits on a piece of furniture which permits your sitting beside her, you are free to regard this as an invitation, though not an unequivocal one. — Quentin Crisp

Turn to my left and see a young couple walking along the sidewalk. Seattle's Alki Beach is pretty much deserted, aside from a few die-hards, or early morning insomniacs, like me. The young couple are walking away from me, hand in hand, smiling at each other, and I point my lens at them and click. I zoom in on their sneaker-clad feet and locked hands and shoot some more, my photographer's eye appreciating their intimate moment on the beach. I inhale the salty air and stare out at the sound once again as a red-sailed boat gently glides out on the water. The early morning sunshine is — Kristen Proby

I lie down on many a station platform; I stand before many a soup kitchen; I squat on many a bench;
then at last the landscape becomes disturbing, mysterious, and familiar. It glides past the western windows with its villages, their thatched roofs like caps, pulled over the white-washed, half-timbered houses, its corn-fields, gleaming like mother-of-pearl in the slanting light, its orchards, its barns and old lime trees.
The names of the stations begin to take on meaning and my heart trembles. The train stamps and stamps onward. I stand at the window and hold on to the frame. These names mark the boundaries of my youth. — Erich Maria Remarque

The trout in yonder wimpling burn - That glides, a silver dart, - And, safe beneath the shady thorn, - Defies the anglers art ... — Robert Burns

When the locked door opens, and there comes in a young woman, deadly pale, and with long fair hair, who glides to the fire, and sits down in the chair we have left there, wringing her hands. — Charles Dickens

He spins us both, wrapping us in his wings until I'm dazed and giggling.
"I wanted to lift you above me and swing you in circles until we were both dizzy and laughing," he murmurs against my neck as we tumble to the ground, trapped beneath his tented wings.
My body aches on impact - but it's a delicious ache. I can hardly breathe with the weight of his ribs covering mine, with the scent of his tobacco surrounding me, smothering and intoxicating. The curve of his smiling mouth glides along my collarbone and I gasp at the velvety sensation. I force his head up so I can look at him ... break the spell.
He slips the bejeweled headband from my hair, sweeping stray strands from my face. The slickness of his gloves grazes my eye markings.
"I wanted to kiss your lips and share your breath," he says softly as he leans close. — A.G. Howard

One-hundred-and-fifty miles per hour. No brakes."
His eyes redden. Our gazes are locked, all of our experiences together rushing through us, every moment where we kissed death but never tasted it. Every time we lived life so terribly - so fully.
And then he snatches my hairband, my brown locks tumbling out of a bun. His jaw glides across my cheek, his hand protectively on the back of my head, his breath warming my ear. And he says, "I'm right beside you, Calloway. — Krista Ritchie

So his life has flowed
From its mysterious urn a sacred stream,
In whose calm depth the beautiful and pure
Alone are mirrored; which, though shapes of ill
May hover round its surface, glides in light,
And takes no shadow from them. — Thomas Noon Talfourd

When you sit in silence long enough, you learn that silence has a motion. It glides over you without shape or form, exactly like water. Its color is silver. And silence has a sound you hear only after hours of wading inside it. The sound is soft, like flute notes rising up, like the words of glass speaking. Then there comes a point when you must shatter the blindness of its words, the blindness of its light. — Anne Spollen

Yanagihara's most impressive trick is the way she glides from scenes filled with those terrifying hyenas to moments of epiphany. 'Wasn't it a miracle to have survived the unsurvivable? Wasn't friendship its own miracle, the finding of another person who made the entire lonely world seem somehow less lonely? Wasn't this house, this beauty, this comfort, this life a miracle?' A Little Life devotes itself to answering those questions, and is, in its own dark way, a miracle. — Marion Winik

The point is ... to live one's life in the full complexity of what one is, which is something much darker, more contradictory, more of a maelstrom of impulses and passions, of cruelty, ecstacy, and madness, than is apparent to the civilized being who glides on the surface and fits smoothly into the world. — Thomas Nagel

I watch the beautiful performance with an ache in my chest.
Then, just when I can't stand the sadness anymore, a dancer floats out from the side of the stage. A dancer in ragged clothes, filthy and half starved. He's not even in ballet shoes. He's just barefoot as he glides out to take his place in the dance.
The other dancers turn to him, and it's clear that he is one of them. One of the lost ones. By the look on their faces, they weren't expecting him. This is not part of the practiced show. He must have seen them onstage and joined in.
Amazingly, the dance continues without a missed beat. The newcomer simply glides into place, and the final dancer who should have danced solo with her missing partner dances with the newcomer.
It is full of joy, and the ballerina actually laughs. Her voice is clear and high, and it lifts us all. — Susan Ee

We all experience it. Those moments when we gasp and say, Oh, look at that. Maybe it's nothing more than the way a shadow glides across a face, but in that split second, when you realize something truly remarkable is happening and disappearing right in front of you, if you can pass a camera before your eye, you'll tear a piece of time out of the whole, and in a breath, rescue it and give it new meaning. — Joel Meyerowitz

I'm urging NASA to foster the development of what I call 'runway landers.' No, that's not the name of a high stakes gambler from Vegas. It's a type of spacecraft that flies to orbit like the retiring Shuttles but then glides to a landing like an airplane on a runway. Just like the Shuttles do. — Buzz Aldrin

While the river of life glides along smoothly, it remains the same river; only the landscape on either bank seems to change. — Max Muller

Affection, homage, devotion, does not easily express itself. Its voice is low. It is modest and retiring, it lies in ambush, waits and waits. Sometimes a life glides away, and finds it still ripening in the shade0 — Charles Dickens

What art thou, life, that we, must court thy stay?
A breath one single gasp must puff away!
A short-lived flower, that with the day must fade!
A fleeting vapor, and an empty shade!
A stream that silently but swiftly glides
To meet eternity's immeasured tides!
A being, lost alike by pain or joy?
A fly can kill it, or a worm destroy!
Impair'd by labor, and by ease undone,
Commenced in tears, and ended in a groan. — Alexander Brome

My pen glides effortlessly; while my imaginary character speaks.

Each taking turn to tell their story.

Inspiration took me on a journey; along a path i knew nothing about, then i experienced writers block.

Stock in my thought, unable to fuel the burning desire of my pen i stare at the wall in search of inspiration. — Tim Templer

As to the effect of the wave on the air, we will suppose the water to be quite flat and the air motionless, a heavy undulation comes on the scene, it has to pass, so it pushes the air up with its face, letting it fall again as its back glides onwards. — Lawrence Hargrave

Still glides the stream
and shall forever glide
its form remains its function never dies
while we the brave and the mighty and the wise
we men who in our youth defied the elements
must vanish-
be it so — William Wordsworth

Mature affection, homage, devotion, does not easily express itself. Its voice is low. It is modest and retiring, it lies in ambush, waits and waits. Such is the mature fruit. Sometimes a life glides away, and finds it still ripening in the shade. — Charles Dickens

Some people say hockey is like religion, but that's wrong. Hockey is like faith. Religion is something between you and other people; it's full of interpretations and theories and opinions. But faith...that's just between you and God. It's what you feel in your chest when the referee glides out to the center circle between two players, when you hear the sticks strike each other and see the black disk fall between them. Then it's just between you and hockey. Because cherry trees always smell of cherry trees, whereas money smells of nothing — Fredrik Backman

She was the kind of fatally pretty and nubile wraithlike figure who glides through the sweaty junior-high corridors of every nocturnal emitter's dreamscape. — David Foster Wallace

O gentle vision in the dawn:
My spirit over faint cool water glides,
Child of the day,
To thee;
And thou art drawn
By kindred impulse over silver tides
The dreamy way
To me. — Harold Monro

Highness, I've heard your lovely sister plans to join us soon," Jagen says from behind them. "What a happy reunion."
Galen rolls his eyes before turning to face him. "You are correct, Jagen. Rayna has missed you. She loves that face you make
when you're upset. She says it's the best impression of a rockfish she's ever seen."
Jagen doesn't like this. His lips curl into a snarl. "Go ahead, young prince. Have a laugh at my expense. I assure you it will be the last time."
Toraf glides in front of Galen. "That sounds a lot like a threat. To my knowledge,threatening a Royal is still illegal."
Galen grabs his shoulder. "It's fine, Toraf. Let this squid release his ink. Ink will only last so long before it fades away in the current. When his protective cloud is gone, everyone will see what's really going on here. — Anna Banks

Brad Pitt is great fun. He jokes around all the time and has a real quality about him. On set the director called me over and said, 'Jase, just watch him. Watch him move.' Instead of walking, Brad literally glides. It's incredible. — Jason Flemyng

If some people say what is in their hearts and other people say what glides easily off the tongue, how can we talk to one another? — Madeleine Thien

Two big hands cup my ass and pull me down onto his face. When his tongue glides over me, I almost come on the spot. Taking a breath, I grasp his cock in one hand and lower my mouth to his engorged head. I give a tiny lick, then breathe out, "Better?" His response is a hungry growl punctuated by the brush of his tongue on my clit. I wrap my lips around him and suck gently, the salty flavor of him tickling my tongue and heating my blood. He tastes delicious. He's thick and hard and throbbing in my mouth, and it's the hottest thing in the whole damn world. I don't know how long we lie in this position, torturing each other with greedy licks and deep sucks, but just as the first tingles of orgasm warm the base of my spine, Blake abruptly yanks me off of him and flips me over. "Cheezus!" he spits out. "If I don't fuck you right now, I'm gonna die, Jessie. — Sarina Bowen

Nostalgia is a dangerous emotion, both because it is powerless to act in the real world, and because it glides so easily into hatred and resentment against those who have taken our Eden from us. — Carolyn Heilbrun

Looking backward through life, one can see the points of change like great locks through which one glides on a flood wave, so smoothly, on such irresistible power that one is hardly aware of any movement. But life is never the same again. One has gone through the lock and lives on a new level. — Mary O'Hara

till, silently
without one peep, the angels come, their watch to keep.
They'll hold you safe while dreaming deep. The pillow cool beneath your head,
all star lit is your feather bed which glides the moonbeams like a sled,
above towns which glitter blue and red. — Dixie Dawn Miller Goode

The rat scuttles, the big cat creeps, the monkey dashes,
The bat glides, the white crane soars, the lizard darts,
And the owl hoots
In the middle of the night. — Sandy Fussell

Time glides away and as we get older through the noiseless years; the days flee and are restrained by no reign. — Ovid

Life consists not of a series of illustrious actions or elegant enjoyments. The greater part of our time passes in compliance with necessities, in the performance of daily duties, in the removal of small inconveniences, in the procurement of petty pleasures; and we are well or ill at ease, as the main stream of life glides on smoothly, or is ruffled by small obstacles and frequent interruption. — Samuel Johnson

You're mine, Ellie. We belong together. I love you. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
My cheeks heat up and I meet his passionate stare. "Of course it means something! Why do you think I came here today? It's because I love you! I've only ever loved you!"
Adam yanks me to him, slanting his mouth down on mine roughly until we have to stop and catch our breath. He glides a hand down my cheek in a loving caress. "Don't leave me again, El. I can't take it. — Heather Leigh

His chair glides a few inches closer and he's in my face, all shoulders and cologne. — S.M. Parker

Speech destroys the function of love, I think-that's a hell of a thing for a writer to say, I guess, but I believe it to be true. If you speak to tell a deer you mean it no harm, it glides away with a single flip of its tail. Love has teeth; they bite; the wounds never close. No word, no combination of words can close those love bites. it's the other way around, that's the joke. If those wounds dry up, the words die with them. — Stephen King

I'm speechless. But my dick has plenty to say. I'm already hard at the idea of Wes being prepped and ready for me. I drop my mouth onto his and he moans again. My tongue glides across his piercing and we're off to the horny dog races. We kiss as if there's a meteor heading straight for the Toronto metropolitan area. Wes's eager hands roam my ass while I suck on his tongue. His eagerness is like a drug, and I want hit after hit. I can feel how hard he is, even through all of our clothes. He wants me to fuck him, and he's all primed and ready? "Mmm," I moan into his mouth. Sexiest fucking thing I ever heard. That's when the doorbell rings. "Hold that thought," I say, pushing up on one arm. "Nooooo!" Wes lifts both his legs to trap me in them. "No." Kiss. "No." Kiss. "Don't even think about it." Pinning his hands to the quilt is easy, because he's horny to the point of distraction. "Stop it, baby. It's the couch delivery. We're paying seventy-five bucks for them to show up on a Saturday. — Sarina Bowen

Erika glides down into the warmth, the body-warm brook of shame, a bath in which one submerges cautiously because the water is rather dirty. — Elfriede Jelinek