Quotes & Sayings About Obsidian

Then this is for you," Galahad said, and drew a knife from the pouch at his belt. It was an odd little thing, T-hilted and small enough to fit into a woman's hand. Its translucent blade, only an inch and a half long, was bound with scrolling bronze wire to the bone hilt. "Have a care. Obsidian is sharper than anything else in the world, sharp enough to make sunlight bleed. — Suzannah Rowntree

Over the obsidian hills and the sunken yellow dale, through the vast oceans of fog and the fires of nevermore, sits the fickle doors of the land of twilight. I will traverse it all, and execute righteous judgment on all that oppose me. — H.S. Crow

The diversity of sounds rule my ever presence with their highs and blows, encompassing the totality of sensual experience. I'm a child of the sirens of knowledge, a warrior for the truth in a world of washed perspectives and harsh realities. My voice cries the initial cry of the unborn into the perplexing illusion. I long for the realization of the human drama, the defeat of the dogs war, and the unity of existence. The beloved Gods of virtue have been undersold for the bleeding bread of empathy. I now awaist the triumphant roar of destiny, dressed in the inviting hand of a mother, perplexed by discovering, aroused by spirit. The door is open, the road transformed. The exit code to civilization is hacked beyond dispair, chased but the moon toward the freeing sun, on our journey to light. This is an open plea to the beautiful insanity of your hearts. It is time to consummate the kiss of oblivion into the obsidian of love! — Serj Tankian

There are so many people who've come before us,
arrows and wagon wheels, obsidian tools, buffalo.
Look out at the meadow, you can almost see them,
generations dissolved in the bluegrass and hay.
I want to try and be terrific. Even for an hour. — Ada Limon

In mine, in space, in city and sky, we have lived our lives in fear. Fear of death. Fear of pain. Today, fear only that we fail. We cannot. We stand upon the edge of darkness holding the lone torch left to man. That torch will not go out. Not while I draw breath. Not while your hearts beat in your chests. Not while our ships yet have menace in them. Let others dream. Let others sing. We chosen few are the fire of our people." I beat my chest. "We are not Red, not Blue or Gold or Gray or Obsidian. We are humanity. We are the tide. And today we reclaim the lives that have been stolen from us. We build the future we were promised. — Pierce Brown

Obsidian the gods forbade And stone they greatly feared. — Sarah J. Maas

The caterpillar turns to liquid before turning into a butterfly. Liquid. Thus washing away any speck of his caterpillar self as he lies completely vulnerable to his environment in his chrysalis shell. One good solid gust of wind and the caterpillars boned. — The Hippie

To Daemon, my arrival was the beginning of the end. The apocalypse. Kat-mageddon. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

You probably even dream about me." His gaze lowered to my mouth. I felt my lips part. "I bet you even write my name in your notebooks, over and over again, with a little heart drawn around it. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Their black eyes were like shards of obsidian. — Brandon Sanderson

He was
a jerk. Moody. But there had been brief moments that I'd spent with him - like a nanosecond - when I thought I might have seen the real Daemon. At
least a better Daemon. And that part made me curious. And the other side, the jerky one, yeah, that part didn't make me curious.
It sort of excited me. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

The ears were large, flaring forward, the eyes limpid amber, in which the pupil floated like a glittering jewel, changing color with shifts of the light: obsidian, emerald, ruby, opal, amethyst, diamond. — William S. Burroughs

While I'm confident in Obsidian being able to deliver a quality title, it only takes one other Kickstarter developer to ruin things for everyone else and cast doubt on the donation process going forward. — Chris Avellone

His eyes, usually as black and hard as obsidian were softer now, with the sheen of a crow's wing in sunlight. "You love me anyway," she teased.
"That's true," he said softly.
"Your weakness," she replied in equally quiet tones.
"No. My strength." They made love, this time without the power of their combined Gifts flowing hot between them, yet Martise would argue with anyone that its absence made no difference. There was sorcery aplenty in loving the one you held most dear. — Grace Draven

How did you know I was different?"
"You mean besides the obvious obsidian, the alien entourage, and the branch?" He laughed. "You're full of electricity. See?" He reached between the seats and placed his hand over mine. Static crackled, jolting us both.
Daemon grabbed Blake's hand and threw it back at him. "I do not like you. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

The reason for the peculiar name could be found in the whimsical sense of humor of the early colonists who arrived on Deanna several decades in the past and found very little at all there to laugh at. Obsidian Crows might seem funny at first, unless you just happened to ride over one with your Jeepo five miles out of town and didn't have a spare tire. Although there was a reasonable expectation of hitting one of these diminutive brutes on the roads, this did not happen nearly as often as you might think. — Christina Engela

We chosen few are the fire of our people." I beat my chest. "We are not Red, not Blue or Gold or Gray or Obsidian. We are humanity. We are the tide. And — Pierce Brown

The shadow pulled away, moving forward quickly. My first instinct screamed Arum and to push away from it. I reached blindly for the obsidian necklace, realizing too late I didn't have it anymore.
"You're still having nightmares," the shadow said.
At the sound of the familiar voice, fear gave way to rage so potent that it tasted like a battery acid. I was on my feet before I knew it.
"Blake," I spat. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Son-- "We don't need ladders, we have obsidian, bro."

Mommy's thoughts-- "...............................
.......fucking minecraft — Mel Brown

He returned my smile with a half grin. So what do you blog about? Knitting? Puzzles? Being lonely? — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Dee:I can't believe you ate all the ice cream, Daemon!
Daemon:I didn't eat all of it.
Dee:Oh, so it ate itself? Did the spoon eat it? Oh wait, I know. The carton ate it.
Daemon:Actually, I think the freezer ate it. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Love is precious, and shouldn't be wasted on every passing whim, or it will mean nothing by the time you truly wish to share it with someone who matters." I said softly.

Silvers, Shayne (2012-10-08). Obsidian Son: A Novel In The Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series (The Temple Chronicles Book 1) (p. 194). Argento Publishing. Kindle Edition. — Shayne Silvers

Ceramic trade goods involved interconnected markets from Mexico City to Mesa Verde, Colorado. Shells from the Gulf of California, tropical bird feathers from the Gulf Coast area of Mexico, obsidian from Durango, Mexico, and flint from Texas were all found in the ruins of Casa Grande (Arizona), the commercial center of the northern frontier. — Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz

I can't believe you ate all the ice cream, Daemon!"I cringed and stopped inside the dining room. There was no way I was going into that kitchen."I didn't eat all of it.""Oh, so it ate itself?" Dee shrieked so loudly I thought I heard the rafters in the ceiling shake."Did the spoon eat it? Oh wait, I know. The carton ate it.""Actually, I think the freezer ate it," Daemon responded dryly. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

The shadows parted and a large head took shape, looming above her.
Her mouth fell open when she spied the silver scales covering the wide head of the dragon. She took in the slitted obsidian eyes that were trained on her and tried to scream, but no sound came out.
The head moved farther out of the darkness to reveal a row of dark silver tendrils at the base of his skull and disappearing into the shadows. More of those same dark silver tendrils surrounded his mouth, which parted to show her rows of very sharp white teeth.
She could swear he smiled, a growl rumbling through his chest.
Death was staring her right in the face.
And there was no escaping it. — Donna Grant Reilly

If she had been born in another place, during another time, he supposed she might have been the sort of girl who concerned herself with boyfriends and parties and fashionable clothes. If she had lived in a Boston arcology or a Beijing super tower, perhaps. Instead, she carried scars, and her hand was a stump, and her eyes were hard like obsidian, and her smile was hesitant, as if anticipating the suffering that she knew awaited her, just around the corner. — Paolo Bacigalupi

It was strange that in some sort of Jeffrey Dahmer meets Ghandi way I was
able to love myself for hating myself. It seemed like a warped sense of
love. But it was love without conditions. — The Hippie

By the Valg, three were made,
Of the gate-Stone of the Wyrd:
Obsidian the gods forbade
And stone they greatly feared.

In grief, he hid one in the crown
Of her he loved so well,
To keep with her where she lay down
Inside the starry cell.

The second one was hidden
In a mountain made of fire,
Where all men are forbidden
Despite their great desires.

Where the third lies
Will never be told
By voice or tongue
Or sum of gold. — Sarah J. Maas

Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab. Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end. — George R R Martin

His hands slid around my head, pulling me back to his mouth. There was a cracking sound in the house. A fissure of electricity shot through the room. Something smoked. I didn't care. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Angel of the Forsaken Hope
Wielder of the Sword of Wind and Obsidian
Slice the Algorithms from our Foe.

Mermaid Beneath the Seven Dancing Moons,
Cantress of the Siren Song,
Drown our Enemies in the Data-stream.

Nymph of the Logic Tree,
Child of the First Word,
Give our Antagonist to Grief. — Roger Zelazny

Fear is like a really hard, worthless rock that can hide rich obsidian or beautiful crystals. — Robin Reardon

Victra stands to the side listening to enemy chatter. "Response teams inbound. More than two thousand mixed units." She's also patched to the strategic command on Orion's ship, so she can gather battle data from the huge sensor arrays on the flagship. Looks like Roque launched more than fifteen thousand men at us in his leechCraft. Most will be in the Pax by now. Burrowed through to find me. Silly bastards. Roque gambled big, bet wrong. And I've just brought three thousand crazed Obsidian berserkers to a mostly empty warship. The Poet is going to be pissed. — Pierce Brown

When Barrons looks at me like that, it rattles me. Lust, in those ancient, obsidian eyes, offers no trace of humanity. Doesn't even bother trying. Savage Mac wants to invite it to come out and play. I think she's nuts. Nuts, I tell you. — Karen Marie Moning

His dark hair looked like it had been teased by the spinning blades of a turbo prop, his black on black ensemble looked like it had walked out of the local "Depressed Teens Shop Here" store, and his flanking goons were dressed to match."
(on Obsidian Chylde) — J.R. O'Bryant

Religion is a barbarous obsidian knife poised over our chests put it in a cabinet and admire it as a work of art, but don't ever wield the damned thing ever again. — PZ Myers

The last thing he felt was Bethany being pulled from his limp arms. A finality of black crashed over him in waves he couldn't surface from, welcoming him into the nothingness that dug in deep, refusing to ever let him go. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Mimicque - zombies - can only be killed with an iron or obsidian blade, so don't think you can just act like the wrestler El Santo in the 1970s film El Santo Versus the Mummies of Guanajuato. If a walking undead is after you, run. Let the experts take care of the zombies. — David Bowles

But no matter where I went, what I was running from would still be with me - Kat. She wasn't just back in the house, in that bed. She was with me now, inside me. And there was no outrunning that. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

The boy looks into Mugwump eyes blank as obsidian mirrors, pools of black blood, glory holes in a toilet wall closing on the Last Erection. — William S. Burroughs

This guy was flipping my bitch switch like nothing else. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

You remind me of a little fuzzy kitten, all claws and no bite. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I don't know . . . jaguars and obsidian. That's not their style. Why didn't she use a silver dagger on you?" "Maybe — Richelle Mead

This bird looks at me with obsidian eyes. They glimmer, small black lights in the gloom. I do not blink. — Ned Hayes

I'm having a permanent out-of-body experience. When it's finally done, I lie flat on my back. Glare up at the greenish, star-pricked night sky. I try not to think about what I must look like, black and bony out here on the bank of this pond. My body is all sharp angles - nothing to hold it together but armored joints and a knobby curved spine. I'm a holy fucking terror, I imagine. A walking weapon. After a while, I dig my elbow joints into the mud and sit up. My body can really move now, no longer hauling rotted bone and flesh but streamlined with these thin limbs made of light titanium. I feel like an obsidian skeleton out here. A devil dancing in the dark. I feel free. — Daniel H. Wilson

If there is a true measure of a person's soul, if there is a single gauge of real divinity, of how beautifully a fellow human honors this life, has genuine spiritual fire and is full of honest love and compassion, it has to be right there, in the eyes.
The Dalai Lama's eyes sparkle and dance with laughter and unbridled love. The Pope's eyes are dark and glazed, bleak as obsidian marbles. Pat Robertson's eyes are rheumy and hollow, like tiny potholes of old wax. Goldman Sachs cretins, well, they don't use their own eyes at all; they just steal someone else's. — Mark Morford

The arrogant half smile I disliked so much tipped up one corner of his swollen lips. You're barely glowing now. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I captured her cheeks, pulling her back to my hungry mouth. Man, I couldn't get enough of her taste, of how she gave it right back to me on all fronts. Her hands went to the button on my jeans.
There was a cracking sound in the house. Most likely something had just went up in flames. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

The Obsidian Order?" I asked.
"What do you know about us?"
"Nothing."
"That's a good start. — Andrew J. Robinson

Listen for somebody trying to talk to you ...
(Silence)
This from that very pit of night, naked in the wasteland, the ice-wind moaning his only covering, alone in the freezing darkness under a sky of chill obsidian
Whoever tried to talk to me? When did I ever listen? When was I ever other than just myself, caring only for myself? — Iain M. Banks

You will stay with me. You will sleep here at my side and you will touch me. I am depressed but not when you stroke my chest. — Laurann Dohner

The Tezuman Empire in the jungle valleys of central Klatch is known for it organic market gardens, its exquisite craftsmanship in obsidian, feathers and jade, and its mass human sacrifices in honor of Quezovercoatl, the Feathered Boa, god of mass human sacrifices. — Terry Pratchett

He was having a bad day. He's worse than a girl, trust me. He doesn't hate you. We're twins. Even I want to kill him on days that end with a Y( ... ) — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I will burn this world down to save her — Jennifer L. Armentrout

In a tree-shaded pasture, seventeen adult tortoises randomly stood around. As I fed them spinach leaves sold by an opportune vendor, they tolerated my gentle strokes to their boney skullcaps and the warm black skin on their necks. It was as thin and delicate as the skin on a grandmother's hand. Their obsidian black eyes gleamed with deep wisdom and patience - Dalai Lamas on the half shell. Back — Kristine K. Stevens

He paused, his smug grin turning wicked as his eyes met mine. We could always have sex. I hear that uses up a lot of energy. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

That's why I like the blackest nights-the darkest, obsidian skies of winter. When the world is coldest and darkest, the stars shine brightest. — Julie Eshbaugh

Your file was empty. Nothing. Not even an immunization record." He didn't even pretend to look surprised. He eased back in his seat, eyes gleaming obsidian.
"And you're telling me this because you're afraid I might cause an outbreak? Measles or mumps?"
"I'm telling you this because I want you to know that I know something about you isn't right. You haven't fooled everybody. I'm going to find out what you're up to. I'm going to expose you."
"Looking forward to it."
I flushed, catching the innuendo too late. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I'd always avoided confrontation in the past, but tihs guy was flipping my bitch switch like nothing else. ~Obsidian — Jennifer L. Armentrout

You always knew where you stood with Quezovercoatl. It was generally with a lot of people on top of a great stepped pyramid with someone in an elegant feathered headdress chipping an exquisite obsidian knife for your very own personal use. — Terry Pratchett

Giving advice to a child is like flinging sand at an obsidian wall. Nothing sticks. The brutal truth is that we each suffer our own lessons - they can't be danced round. They can't be slipped past. You cannot gift a child with your scars - they arrive like webs, constricting, suffocating, and that child will struggle and strain until they break. No matter how noble your intent, the only scars that teach them anything are the ones they earn themselves. — Steven Erikson

The newcomer stood well over six feet, as tall as any Warden. His hair was dark, the color of obsidian, and it reflected blue in the dim light. Lazy locks slipped over his forehead and curled just below his ears. Brows arched over golden eyes and his cheekbones were broad and high. He was attractive. Very attractive. Mind-bendingly beautiful, actually, but the sardonic twist to his full lips chilled his beauty. The black T-shirt stretched across his chest and flat stomach. A huge tattoo of a snake curled around his forearm, the tail disappearing under his sleeve and the diamond-shaped head rested on the top of his hand. He looked my age. Total crush material - if it wasn't for the fact that he had no soul. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

She stared at the bullwhip coiled Indiana Jones-style at his narrow waist, then at the black-handled dagger sheathed on his right hip. An obsidian rapier
Fae-forged and unbreakable
almost merged with one of the taped seams that ran down the sides of his pants. He even wore a dagger gunslinger-style at his hip. Dear Goddess, the man was a walking arsenal, but he was sexy as hell. — Kryssie Fortune

Christian turned around and penetrated Slater with his obsidian eyes. "Better talk or I'll introduce you to my two best friends," he said harshly, holding up his fists. "Meet thunder and lightning. If you don't start talking, it's going to storm all over your face. — Dannika Dark

Eyes as black and as shiny as chips of obsidian stared back into his. They were eyes like black holes, letting nothing out, not even information. — Neil Gaiman

I don't know if you've ever had a crush on somebody that bad, but Hades became obsessed. He kept sketches of Persephone in his pocket. He carved her name on his obsidian table with a knife-which took a lot of work. He dreamed about her and had imaginary conversations with her where he admitted his love and she confessed that she had always had a thing for creepy older guys who lived in caves full of dead people. — Rick Riordan

I've always found out that the most beautiful people, truly beautiful inside and out, are the ones who are quietly unaware of their effect. The one's who throw their beauty around, waste what they have? Their beauty is only passing. It's just a shell hiding nothing but shadows and emptiness.

Jennifer Armentrout, Obsidian — Jennifer L. Armentrout

You read too much." Daemon exhaled slowly. [ ... ]
"There's no such thing as that. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

-and nobody's getting laid!" I practically shouted.
"You think I don't know that?" He shifted his body beneath me, making me painfully aware of something. Two somethings, in fact, one of which was how far up my short skirt was. The other wasn't my problem. I wriggled, to shimmy my hem down, but his expression perished the thought. When Barrons looks at me like that, it rattles me. Lust, in those ancient, obsidian eyes, offers no trace of humanity. Doesn't even bother trying. — Karen Marie Moning

But since the Obsidian Order - perennial of cheap dramas and bogeymen of children's stories - had — Django Wexler

Listening to her spooling out impractical and transcendental picture-concepts like a hyperventilating tickertape he felt the weight lift from him, floating in a sweet and putrid lager fart to dissipate beneath the starry, vast obsidian pudding bowl of closing time, inverted and set down upon the Burroughs as though keeping flies away. — Alan Moore

He was a beautiful pagan god with the voice of a serial killer, but that didn't make him any less god like. It just meant rather than dying in some dank basement or isolated cabin, I'd die bound on an altar as part of some gruesome sacrificial rite. Exsanguinating while he stood over my naked body with my blood dripping from an obsidian blade...Angelina Martin — Candace Vianna

I was clenching the steering wheel like a granny, but driving like I was trying out for NASCAR. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Tlaloci's head exploded in a shower of brains and bone. The pieces rained down on me, and the body fell to one side, obsidian blade scraping along the stone floor as the hand convulsed around the hilt. I stared across the cave and saw Olaf standing at the foot of the stone steps. He was still standing in his shooting stance, one-handed, gun still pointed at where the priest had been standing. He blinked, and I watched the concentration leave his face, watched something close to human spill across his face. He started walking towards me, gun at his side. The other hand held a knife, bloody to the hilt. I was wiping Tlaloci's brains off my face when Olaf came to stand in front of me. "I never thought I'd say this, but damn I'm glad to see you." He actually smiled. "I saved your life." That made me smile. "I know." Ramirez — Laurell K. Hamilton

A gleam of humor flickered in those obsidian eyes. I should warn you, Hannah: when we meet at Stony Cross Park, take care to avoid the mistletoe. For both our sakes. — Lisa Kleypas

Part of me craved his sinful obsidian desires. — Pepper Winters

Obsidian eyes met hers, unreadable and assessing. Men didn't generally pay her much attention except to make an even number in a dance. And now she had a secret nearly-betrothed and a supposed teacher, one who looked like an angel and one a devil, and both with awful reputations. Best to remember that neither of them likely had anything good in mind for her. — Suzanne Enoch