J A Wood Quotes & Sayings

Perfume is magic. It's mystery. We recreate the smell of a flower. Of wood. Of grass. We capture the essence of life. Liquefy it. We store memories. We make dreams," he told her once. "What we do is a wonder, an art, and we have a responsibility to do it well. — M.J. Rose

For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green. — J.R.R. Tolkien

Mind the faeries," Brian said with a grin. "Christ, it's been years since I stepped into a country wood. Roarke, do you remember when we skinned those Germans in the hotel, then hid out for two days with travelers in the wood down in Wexford till the heat was off?"
"Jesus, I'm standing right here," Eve pointed out. "Cop."
"There was that girl," Brian continued, unabashed. "Ah, the sultry beauty. And no matter how I tried to charm her, she only had eyes for you."
"Again, right here. Married."
"It was long ago and far away. — J.D. Robb

The beast plopped into the chair, the wood groaning, and, in a flash of white light, turned into a golden-haired man. I — Sarah J. Maas

And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle - Flint alongside her - poke him in the eye, Angelina! - it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke - oh no - Flint in possession, Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goal posts, come on now, Wood, save - ! — J.K. Rowling

For the anarch, little has changed; flags have meaning for him, but not sense. I have seen them in the air and on the ground like leaves in May and November; and I have done so as a contemporary and not just as a historian. The May Day celebration will survive, but with a different meaning. New portraits will head up the processions. A date devoted to the Great Mother is re-profaned. A pair of lovers in the wood pays more homage to it. I mean the forest as something undivided, where every tree is still a liberty tree.
For the anarch, little is changed when he strips off a uniform that he wore partly as fool's motley, partly as camouflage. It covers his spiritual freedom, which he will objectivate during such transitions. This distinguishes him from the anarchist, who, objectively unfree, starts raging until he is thrust into a more rigorous straitjacket. — Ernst Junger

I never heard a wood thrush until I was a grown man, though I must have been surrounded by them every spring.
Each year I discover new sights and sounds to teach me how blind and deaf I must still be. — Louis J. Halle

Headphones opened up a world of sonic colors, a palette of nuances and details that went far beyond the chords and melody, the lyrics, or a particular singer's voice. The swampy Deep South ambience of "Green River" by Creedence, or the pastoral, open-space beauty of the Beatles' "Mother Nature's Son"; the oboes in Beethoven's Sixth (conducted by Karajan), faint and drenched in the atmosphere of a large wood-and-stone church; the sound was an enveloping experience. — Daniel J. Levitin

I am bent over the desk, my breasts rubbing against the wood with every impact, and now my nipples are as tight and hard and sensitive as my clit. I'm awash in sensation, my entire body sparking like a live wire, and with the right touch, I know that I will shatter. I expect another smack, but this time his hands grab my hips instead. With his knee, he roughly shoves my legs apart. One hand comes down on my back, holding me in place over the desk. The other strokes my sex, opening me, readying me, though that is hardly necessary - as I am so ready for him to be inside me, I can hardly stand it. — J. Kenner

HARRY, THIS IS NO TIME TO BE A GENTLEMAN!" Wood roared as Harry swerved to avoid collision. "KNOCK HER OFF HER BROOM IF YOU HAVE TO! — J.K. Rowling

So," said Wood, at long last, jerking Harry from a wistful fantasy about what he could be eating for breakfast at this very moment up at the castle, "is that clear? Any questions?"
"I've got a question, Oliver," said George, who had woken with a start. "Why couldn't you have told us yesterday when we were awake? — J.K. Rowling

It had the old double keyboard, an entirely different set of keys for capitals and figures, so that the paper seemed a long way off, and the machine was as big and solid as a battle cruiser. Typing was then a muscular activity. You could ache after it. If you were not familiar with those vast keyboards, your hand wandered over them like a child lost in a wood. The noise might have been that of a shipyard on the Clyde. You would no more have thought of carrying one of those grim structures as you would have thought of travelling with a piano. — J.B. Priestley

There was a fire in the wide hearth before them, and it was burning with a sweet smell, as if it were built of apple-wood. — J.R.R. Tolkien

The impression of wood-grain ... must be considered, not only as regards texture and visibility, but for the occasional possibility of the expression of form. A soft wood, with hard annulations, such as fir, prints very dearly. — Walter J. Phillips

Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare . . . what did Professor Sprout say? - it likes the dark and the damp - " "So light a fire!" Harry choked. "Yes - of course - but there's no wood!" Hermione cried, wringing her hands. — J.K. Rowling

How shall a man judge what to do in such times?'
'As he ever has judged,' said Aragorn. 'Good and ill have not changed since yesteryear ... It is a man's part to discern them, as much in th Golden Wood as in his own house. — J.R.R. Tolkien

We smoked fat cigars by the campfire and they tasted like wood and ash. The inhale and exhale was exciting. Blowing smoke rings in the calm forest air was followed by a deep swallow of cheap beer, and this too was exciting. There was no judgment in the wild, and so indulgences were plentiful. There were no regulators here and we were free to indulge in the deep intoxications that made our minds free. — Daniel J. Rice

Fair lady!' said Frodo again after a while. 'Tell me, if my asking does not seem foolish, who is Tom Bombadil?'
'He is,' said Goldberry, staying her swift movements and smiling. Frodo looked at her questioningly. 'He is, as you have seen him,' she said in answer to his look. 'He is the Master of wood, water, and hill. — J.R.R. Tolkien

Kyler half-jumped half-threw himself toward my open window. I was wussy. Closing my eyes, I balled my hands up near my chest and let out a little shriek. There was a sound of flesh hitting wood and my eyes flew open. He came through the open window, landing on his feet like a damn cat. He stumbled though and banged into my desk, causing books and my computer to shake.
He held his hands out to his sides and looked around slowly before his gaze settled on me. "I am awesome." I could barely breathe. "Yeah." A knock sounded on my bedroom door a second before it opened. Dad popped his head in, eyes wide. "I'm just making sure he made it up here alive." I nodded and Kyler flashed a grin. "I'm in one piece." "That's good to see." Dad started to close the door, but stopped. "Next time, use the front door, Kyler." "Yes, sir," Kyler said. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?' Wood? thought Harry, bewildered; was Wood a cane she was going to use on him? — J.K. Rowling

The drink was like water, indeed very like the taste of the draughts they had drunk from the Entwash near the borders of the forest, and yet there was some scent or savour in it which they could not describe: it was faint, but it reminded them of the smell of a distant wood borne from afar by a cool breeze at night. — J.R.R. Tolkien

Edward Lacey, a one-time Pennsylvanian who at the age of 13 had served with Edward Braddock's army in the Indian campaigns. — W. J. Wood

The morning came, pale and clammy. Frodo woke up first, and found that a tree-root had made a hole in his back, and that his neck was stiff. "Walking for pleasure! Why didn't I drive?" he thought, as he usually did at the beginning of an expedition. "And all my beautiful feather beds are sold to the Sackville-Bagginses! These tree-roots would do them good." He stretched. "Wake up, hobbits!" he cried. "It's a beautiful morning."
"What's beautiful about it?" said Pippin, peering over the edge of his blanket with one eye. "Sam! Get breakfast ready for half-past nine! Have you got the bath-water hot?"
Sam jumped up, looking rather bleary. "No, sir, I haven't, sir!" he said.
Frodo stripped the blankets from Pippin and rolled him over, and then walked off to the edge of the wood. — J.R.R. Tolkien

This is all your fault," George said angrily to Wood. "'Get the Snitch or die trying,' what a stupid thing to tell him - — J.K. Rowling

I felt his voice. Fingers rubbing moss. Smoke curling. Wood worn and smoothed over time. His voice had darkness in it that hovered close to the ground, like a mist hanging over a lake deep in a forest at dusk. A bolt of sea-green velvet. A sensation as much as a series of sounds. It reverberated inside me. — M.J. Rose

The flash of green light illuminated every corner of the room. Charity fell, with a resounding crash, onto the table below, which trembled and creaked. Several of the Death Eaters leapt back in their chairs. Draco fell out of his onto the floor. "Dinner, Nagini," said Voldemort softly, and the great snake swayed and slithered from his shoulders onto the polished wood. — J.K. Rowling

And the Slytherins don't need a spy, Oliver," said George. "What makes you say that?" said Wood testily. "Because they're here in person," said George, pointing. — J.K. Rowling

A beautiful feature in the colour wood-cut, and one unique in printing, is colour gradation ... Two brushes are sometimes used, one charged with more potent colour than the other. Line blocks are nearly always printed with some variation of tone, and often in colour too. — Walter J. Phillips

Listen to me, Jez. There's no reason for you to die-"
Wood ... poison."
No it isn't! Not to humans. And you're half human. You're vampire enough to survie something that would kill a human, but you're human enough not to be poisoned by wood. — L.J.Smith

A shrill cry rang out in the night; and he felt a pain like a dart of poisoned ice pierce his left shoulder. Even as he swooned he caught, as through a swirling mist, a glimpse of Strider leaping out of the darkness with a flaming brand of wood in either hand. With a last effort Frodo, dropping his sword, slipped the Ring from his finger and closed his right hand tight upon it. — J.R.R. Tolkien

She had seen hundreds of doors in the castle - doors of wood, of bronze, of glass - but never one of solid iron. This one was ancient, from a time when an iron door meant something. So was this supposed to keep someone out - or to keep something in? Celaena — Sarah J. Maas

I like making things. I have a wood shop at home. I am a terrible carpenter but I love doing it. — P. J. O'Rourke

Back then he'd hammered out rags as rough as the planks that made up that schoolhouse stage. Over the years he's taken a saw and rasp to those tunes and smoothed them at the edges, sanded them slowly over time with finer and finer grit paper, and applied a polish to them. The songs are comfortable now. People can take their shoes off to dance without fear of a spike in the foot; they can lie back on that smooth and waxed wood to take a nap in the afternoon or make love all night long. Oliver sees himself as a carpenter, a craftsman putting notes and melodies together, fitting them when they will, stepping back to rest and reconsider when they won't. — Richard J. Alley

He was going to be armed with his wand - which, just now, felt like nothing more than a narrow strip of wood - against a fifty-foot-high, scaly, spike-ridden, fire-breathing dragon. — J.K. Rowling

It came from a piece of old wood that he found in the yard somewhere. That's what we all are, Jefferson, all of us on this earth, a piece of drifting wood, until we--each one of us, individually--decide to become something else. I am still that piece of drifting wood, and those out there are no better. But you can be better. Because we need you to be and want you to be." --Grant — Ernest J. Gaines

Harry slipped down a few stairs in shock. It was packed, far more crowded than when he had last been in there. Kingsley and Lupin were looking up at him, as were Oliver Wood, Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet, Bill and Fleur, and Mr and Mrs Weasley. — J.K. Rowling

I put a hand on my chest, leaning against the wood panels of the stair wall. Rhy's hand covered my own a heartbeat later. "That's what I felt," he said, "when I saw you smile that night we dined along the Sidra. — Sarah J. Maas

Polymeric materials in the form of wood, bone, skin and fibers have been used by man since prehistoric time. Although organic chemistry as a science dates back to the eighteenth century, polymer science on a molecular basis is a development of the twentieth century. — Alan J. Heeger

Haldir had gone on and was now climbing to the high flet. As Frodo prepared to follow him, he laid his hand upon the tree beside the ladder: never before had he been so suddenly and so keenly aware of the feel and texture of a tree's skin and of the life within it. He felt a delight in wood and the touch of it, neither as forester nor as carpenter; it was the delight of the living tree itself. — J.R.R. Tolkien

George: "I can't see anyone trying to bump off a quidditch team."
Fred: "Wood might've done the Slytherins if he could've got away with it. — J.K. Rowling

It is hard to be sure of anything among so many marvels. The world is all grown strange ... How shall a man judge what to do in such times?'
'As he ever has judged,' said Aragorn. 'Good and ill have not changed since yesteryear; nor are they one thing among Elves and Dwarves and another among Men. It is a man's part to discern them, as much in the Golden Wood as in his own house. — J.R.R. Tolkien

So light a fire!" Harry choked. "Yes ... of course ... but there's no wood!" ...
"HAVE YOU GONE MAD!" Ron bellowed. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT! — J.K. Rowling

Er - have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?" Harry asked, hoping he sounded offhand.
"Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. You don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers - "
" - unless they crack my head open."
"Don't worry, the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers - I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves. — J.K. Rowling

In the leaping light, as the fresh wood blazed up, Frodo saw many grey shapes spring over the ring of stones. More and more followed. Through the throat of one huge leader Aragorn passed his sword with a thrust; with a great sweep Boromir hewed the head off another. Beside them Gimli stood with his stout legs apart, wielding his dwarf-axe. The bow of Legolas was singing. — J.R.R. Tolkien

Peter became very clever at helping the birds to build their nests; soon he could build better than a wood-pigeon, and nearly as well as a blackbird, though never did he satisfy the finches, and he made nice little water-troughs near the nests and dug up worms for the young ones with his fingers. He also became very learned in bird-lore, and knew an east wind from a west wind by its smell, and he could see the grass growing and hear the insects walking about inside the tree-trunks. — J.M. Barrie

Iran and Iraq have been at war for five years now. The traditional present for a fifth anniversary is wood. Here's a gift suggestion: a big stick to beat some goddamned sense into their
heads. — P. J. O'Rourke

Children have the strangest adventures without being troubled by them. For instance, they may remember to mention, a week after the event happened, that when they were in the wood they had met their dead father and had a game with him. — J.M. Barrie

Yeah," said Ron, "and lucky Harry doesn't lose his head in a crisis - 'there's no wood,' honestly. — J.K. Rowling

To say that these men paid their shillings to watch twenty-two hirelings kick a ball is merely to say that a violin is wood and catgut, that Hamlet is so much paper and ink. — J.B. Priestley

If only there had been a dementor around. . . . As a sobbing Wood passed Harry the Cup, as he lifted it into the air, Harry felt he could have produced the world's best Patronus. — J.K. Rowling

Frodo: 'It's a pity Bilbo didn't kill Gollum when he had the chance.'
Gandalf: 'Pity? It's a pity that stayed Bilbo's hand. Many that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo? Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. Even the very wise cannot see all ends. My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play in it, for good or evil, before this is over. The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many.' Frodo: 'I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.'
Gandalf: 'So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. There are other forces at work in this world, Frodo, besides that of evil. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, in which case you were also meant to have it. And that is an encouraging thought. — J.R.R. Tolkien

Logan couldn't remember when a few drinks became a bottle and then two bottles every night. He couldn't point to one single moment or event as the cause. From his first drink at fourteen, alcohol began soaking into his skin, the moisture rotting him on the inside. Every few years he'd use a chisel to hack away all the wet, unsound wood without trying to find the source of the moisture. The rot always came back, stronger than before. — J.D. Ruskin

I sit beside the fire and think
Of all that I have seen
Of meadow flowers and butterflies
In summers that have been

Of yellow leaves and gossamer
In autumns that there were
With morning mist and silver sun
And wind upon my hair

I sit beside the fire and think
Of how the world will be
When winter comes without a spring
That I shall ever see

For still there are so many things
That I have never seen
In every wood in every spring
There is a different green

I sit beside the fire and think
Of people long ago
And people that will see a world
That I shall never know

But all the while I sit and think
Of times there were before
I listen for returning feet
And voices at the door — J.R.R. Tolkien