Skin Of A Lion Quotes & Sayings

Where the lion's skin will not reach, you must patch it out with the fox's. — Plutarch

She was resilient
A brave soldier when life tested her
It didn't matter that she did strange things
like stand tall under the rain
letting the drops kiss her skin
thinking the storm was romantic
It was hard to quiet her
not that you would want to
when she spoke, it was captivating
Her heart was like a candle
warm and delicate
just what you needed during darkness
Sometimes, she'd go off and explore the world
test her limits
laugh too much
cry when humans were cruel
It wasn't hard to see why people envied her
You'd come to realize she was a lion
and she could not be tamed. — M.J. Abraham

He was looking at Mr. Nancy, an old black man with a pencil moustache, in his check sports jacket and his lemon yellow gloves, riding a carousel lion as it rose and lowered, high in the air; and, at the same time, in the same place, he saw a jeweled spider as high as a horse, its eyes an emerald nebula, strutting, staring down at him; and simultaneously he was looking at an extraordinarily tall man with teak colored skin and three sets of arms, wearing a flowing ostrich-feather headdress, his face painted with red stripes, riding an irritated golden lion, two of his six hands holding on tightly to the beast's mane; and he was also seeing a young black boy, dressed in rags, his left foot all swollen and crawling with black flies; and last of all, and behind all these things, Shadow was looking at a tiny brown spider, hiding under a withered ochre leaf. Shadow saw all these things, and he knew they were the same thing. — Neil Gaiman

He wanted to roar like a lion on a cement floor. And bellow like a polar bear with yellow fur worn down to pink skin against the tiles of an enclosure in a zoo. The disgust must come. Let it drip down the walls. Scorch the ceiling black with hatred. Liberate rage. — Adam Nevill

The lion has to stay outside"
"He won't like it"
The lion shook his mane. I looked at Curran. The lion melted. Skin stretched, bones twisted, and human Curran straightened. He was completely nude. Gloriously nude.
"Well," Hrefna said. "I always wondered why you went all shapeshifter. Explain things. — Ilona Andrews

An Ass put on a Lion's skin and went
About the foreset with much merriment,
Scaring the foolish beasts by brooks and rocks,
Till at last he tried to scare the Fox. But Reynard, hearing from beneath the mane
That Raucous voice so petulant and vain,
Remarked. O' Ass, I too would run away,
But that I know your old familiar bray'.
That's just the way with asses, just the way. — Aesop

Dressed in the lion's skin, the ass spread terror far and wide. — Jean De La Fontaine

Let the quiet tuck you in.
Let the quiet massage your shoulder.
Let the quiet embrace you; feeling all the dimensions of your skin.
Feel the quiet between your toes.
Behind your earlobes.
Under your tongue.
Over the space above your heart.
In the cells regenerating from the wounds.
Let it permeate through your blood.
Indigo & Cyan.
Eyes watching Zion.
Be the quiet
Lion — Antonia Perdu

If i'm going to survive, it won't be because i have a lion-skin cloak. I'm not Hercules. — Rick Riordan

The joyful will stoop with sorrow, and when you have gone to the earth I will let my hair grow long for your sake, I will wander through the wilderness in the skin of a lion — Michael Ondaatje

Black vomit came gushing out Samantha's mouth, adding to the puddle already on the floor. Samantha was covered in a sheen of sweat, crouched on all fours on the wooden hallway floor, like an animal. Her thick yellow fingernails made deep scratches in the wood as her body convulsed with each new expulsion of the black vomit. Her hair was long and thick and full; thicker and fuller than he had ever seen it. It reminded him of a lion's mane. Her skin was a sickly pale grey with disturbing red boils the size of grapefruit and weeping puss-filled black blotches where others had burst. Spider webs of blue veins were visible under the skin all over her body. — Joseph M. Chiron

Commissioner Harris at the far end stared along the mad pathway. This was his first child and it had already become a murderer. — Michael Ondaatje