Liquid Gold Quotes & Sayings

Someday we might look back with a curious nostalgia at the days when profligate homeowners wastefully sprayed their lawns with liquid gold to make the grass grow, just so they could then burn black gold to cut it down on the weekends. — Alok Jha

Even as a raft, of course, it could have been made from gold, or any element with a molecular number lower than mercury. Lead would still sink in mercury, but gold shouldn't. It was one number down the Periodic Table and so ought to float. Veppers looked over the side of the vessel at where his ingot of gold had entered the liquid metal, but it showed no sign of surfacing yet. — Iain M. Banks

Her gaze lifted.
And collided with a full-sized predator.
His eyes were the dark whiskey gold her father liked to pour in heavily cut crystal glasses. Liquid fire, potent and seething with heat. — Jennifer Probst

Later she will learn
about edges. Or better, find
by luck or a longer journey
the shadow of that liquid
gold place, which can be
so single and clear for her
only now, when it means danger
only to me. — Margaret Atwood

You can't lose what you serve. That's the secret. What you serve, you can't lose. What you don't serve and what you try to hold onto, you can't hold onto. It's always slipping out of your fingers. — Adyashanti

An insult is either sustained or destroyed, not by the disposition of those who insult, but by the disposition of those who bear it. — Saint John Chrysostom

She dreamed of Venice. However, it wasn't a city alive with stars dripping like liquid gold into canals, or Bougainvillea spilling from flowerpots like overfilled glasses of wine. In this dream, Venice was without color. Where pastel palazzi once lined emerald lagoons, now, gray, shadowy mounds of rubble paralleled murky canals. Lovers could no longer share a kiss under the Bridge of Sighs; it had been the target of an obsessive Allied bomb in search of German troops. The only sign of life was in Piazza San Marco, where the infamous pigeons continued to feed. However, these pigeons fed not on seeds handed out by children, but on corpses rotting under the elongated shadow of the Campanile. — Pamela Allegretto

The kiss wove between gentle and frenzied, liquid and greedy, silken and primal, and he sucked every second of bliss he could from the forbidden pleasure. — Jami Gold

Music is as integral to me as my own DNA. My life has become a continual soundtrack, with music underscoring the most powerful and even the most banal moments of my life. — Danielle De Niese

You are tougher to kill than Steven Seagal... — Zoe Forward

I would like to ask one favor though, if that's not too much," he said.
I wonder what he saw on my face, because something flickered across his own face in response. But, before I could identify it, he'd composed his features into the same serene mask.
"Anything," I vowed, my voice faintly stronger.
As I watched, his frozen eyes melted. The gold became liquid again, molten, burning down into mine with an intensity that was overwhelming.
"Don't do anything reckless or stupid," he ordered, no longer detached. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"
I nodded helplessly.
His eyes cooled, the distance returned. — Stephenie Meyer

For all of my life, I am digging deep in my heart to find the liquid gold of love to share. — Debasish Mridha

He woke from a dream in which Edith raised her arms to him, the liquid gold of her hair tumbling almost to her waist. 'Ah, darling,' he had been telling her, 'I am looped in the loops of your hair.' Had he said that aloud? He would never do something so imbecilic. He really had lost his mind. — Eloisa James

He came back, sat on the ledge again, and handed her a glass. "You haven't slept; you haven't eaten."
"It goes with the territory." The wine tasted like liquid gold. "Nonetheless, you worry me, Lieutenant."
"You worry too easily."
"I love you." It flustered her to hear him say it in that lovely voice that hinted of Irish mists, to know that somehow, incredibly, it was true. Since she had no answer to give him, she frowned into her wine. — J.D. Robb

By the end, everybody had a label - pig, liberal, radical, revolutionary ... If you had everything but a gun, you were a radical but not a revolutionary. — Jerry Rubin

After I have several cups of liquid gold on the patio, — Karina Halle

God is the creator of love. He demonstrated His love to you through the sacrificial death of His Son. The closer you draw to God the more you will demonstrate your love for others by becoming a living sacrifice by putting others before yourself. — DeWayne Owens

It was a woman's voice, high and sweet, with a strange music in it like none that he had ever heard and a sadness that he thought might break his heart. Bran squinted, to see her better. It was a girl, but smaller than Arya, her skin dappled like a doe's beneath a cloak of leaves. Her eyes were queer
large and liquid, gold and green, slitted like a cat's eyes. No one has eyes like that. Her hair was a tangle of brown and red and gold, autumn colors, with vines and twigs and withered flowers woven through it.
"Who are you?" Meera Reed was asking.
Bran knew. "She's a child. A child of the forest. — George R R Martin

Water was liquid silver, water was gold. It was clarity - a sacred thing. — Aspen Matis

Often, after extinguishing the oil lamp in our house on stilts, we would lie on our beds and smoke in the dark. Book titles poured from our lips, the mysterious and exotic names evoking unknown worlds. It was like Tibetan incense, where you need only say the name, Zang Xiang, to smell the subtle, refined fragrance and to see the joss sticks sweating beads of scented moisture which, in the lamplight, resemble drops of liquid gold. — Dai Sijie

Julian bent closer as if to soothe her. "Please continue. This is extremely interesting. I searched centuries for lost Carpathians but had given up hope. How all of you accomplished what you did is extraordinary."
Desari swallowed as little flames licked at her skin, as her breasts reacted to the pad of his thumb sliding sensuously over the soft swell. She glanced up at him, determined to reprimand him, but he was looking intellectual and earnestly interested in whatever she had been telling him. Except for his eyes. His eyes were molten gold and burning with a liquid fire that seemed to consume her, to mesmerize her.
"I have no idea what I was saying," she finally admitted, her voice so husky it was an invitation. — Christine Feehan

Just as the setting sun turned the clouds to liquid gold. — Michael Ende

Hill tops like hot iron glitter bright in the sun,
And the rivers we're eying burn to gold as they run;
Burning hot is the ground, liquid gold is the air;
Whoever looks round sees Eternity there. — John Clare

I love to show off my ability in a nice way. — Yani Tseng

On many questions and specially in view of the marriage bed, the Puritans were the indulgent party, ... they were much more Chestertonian than their adversaries. The idea that a Puritan was a repressed and repressive person would have astonished Sir Thomas More and Luther about equally. — C.S. Lewis

this might be a beauty to send men mad. Her body was slight with a child's slenderness, but her breasts were full and pointed and her throat round as a lily stem. Her hair was rosy gold, streaming long and unbound over the golden-green robe. The large eyes that I remembered were gold-green too, liquid and clear as a stream running over mosses, and the small mouth lifted into a smile over kitten's teeth — Mary Stewart

In the dog days, when Altair and Deneb
set toward western waters, Vega
flaring in their starry wake, the choir
of peepers and crickets melds liquid
to languid; the first maple leaves ripen
and curl to red fists; pine needles spread
gold scripture across the water;
nuthatch feet circle tree trunks--
gentle scriveners
scribing the dawn of dying days. — Ken Craft

The sky is the soul of all scenery. It makes the earth lovely at sunrise and splendid at sunset. In the one it breathes over the earth a crystal-like ether, in the other a liquid gold. — Thomas Cole

You can't be spontaneous within reason. — Brittany DeLaBarrera

You're my gold, nahna xaxsah is my hahnee rah. Kay jahnan nahna lisa, na uvan tee luh kay. Ana kay jahnan nahna pahnsahna, Circe. Kay nayeesan tee. Fahzah.
You're my gold, your cunt is my liquid gold. I will have your mouth, you will give it to me. Then I will have your spirit, Circe. I will own it. Always. — Kristen Ashley

These too are of a burning color
not orange, not gold, but if pure gold were liquid and could raise a cream, that golden cream might be like the color of the poppies. — John Steinbeck

Are these people mistreating you? Do you need me to call somebody? Cough if you can't answer." Cora said, her imagination running wild. — Jenn Winter

I really believe that we have a responsibility, almost a sacred responsibility, to the animals that share this planet with us. — Emmylou Harris

It happened on a Valentine night.
Chris was an expert panther, a James Bond. Sarah was a lamb, a Virgin Mary.
It was a night of mixed feelings and inner conflict. In her flesh she felt walking on liquid gold; but in her mind, heart and soul she could not help but hate herself for partaking of this "forbidden fruit" of pleasure. Not long was the thrill gone that her soul went sinking in the quick sands of condemnation, "did you have to do it? — Moffat Machingura

He had a wild yellow beard and long, tangled hair that stood out from his head in a way that made it seem too large for his shoulders, though they were twice the width of mine. But these were not the things I noticed first. Nor, I think, the things that anyone would notice first. Before anything else, I saw his eyes: They were huge, and yellow as gold. And after that, I saw the way he moved. Cim Glowing is beautiful, and walks with liquid grace; but sometimes she looks clumsy beside him. I think I had guessed who he was before she called his name. "Ketin," she said, and raised the endieva wand as though to strike, backing away until her shoulders were against the wall. "Yes, Ketin," the bearded man said. His voice was like a storm five kilometers off. — Gene Wolfe

You know, of course, the specimens are not alive. We have to fix them in a fixing liquid formaldehyde and then we have to do a rinsing and then we have to coat them in a thin layer of gold. — Lennart Nilsson

His sudden and utterly overwhelming panic was over almost before it began; but not quickly enough. In the midst of his brief yet total terror, the King of Pontus shat himself. It went everywhere, solid faeces mixed with what seemed an incredible amount of more liquid bowel contents, a stinking brown mess all over the gold-encrusted purple cloth of his cushion, trickling down the legs of his throne, running down his own legs into the manes of the golden lions upon the flaps of his boots, pooling and plopping on the deck around his feet when he jumped up. And there was nowhere to go! He could not conceal it from the amazed eyes of his attendants and officers, he could not conceal it from the sailors below amidships who had looked up instinctively to make sure their King was safe. — Colleen McCullough

When a thing such as wax, or gold, or silver, turns liquid from heat, we say that it has fused," Eliza said to her son, "and when such liquids run together and mix, we say they are con-fused." "Papa says I am confused sometimes." "As are we all," said Eliza. "For confusion is a kind of bewitchment - — Neal Stephenson