Quotes on Shadow

It's a Little Leaguers game that major leaguers play extraordinarily well, a game that excites us throughout adulthood. The crack of the bat and the scent of the horsehide on leather bring back our own memories that have been washed away with the sweat and tears of summers long gone...even as the setting sun pushes the shadows past home plate.

Poets are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present; the words which express what they understand not; the trumpets which sing to battle, and feel not what they inspire; the influence which is moved not, but moves. Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.

What is the body? That shadow of a shadow_x000D_ _x000D_ of your love, that somehow contains_x000D_ _x000D_ the entire universe.

Your dreamers may dream it_x000D_ _x000D_ The shadow of a dream,_x000D_ _x000D_ Your sages may deem it_x000D_ _x000D_ A bubble on the stream;_x000D_ _x000D_ Yet our kingdom draweth nigher_x000D_ _x000D_ With each dawn and every day,_x000D_ _x000D_ Through the earthquake and the fire_x000D_ _x000D_ Love will find out the way.

Love is sunshine, hate is shadow,_x000D_ _x000D_ Life is checkered shade and sunshine.

And what word is knowledge but a shadow of wordless knowledge?

Look, the world's comforter, with weary gait,_x000D_ _x000D_ His day's hot task hath ended in the west:_x000D_ _x000D_ The owl, night's herald, shrieks-'tis very late;_x000D_ _x000D_ The sheep are gone to fold, birds to their nest;_x000D_ _x000D_ And coal-black clouds, that shadow heaven's light,_x000D_ _x000D_ Do summon us to part, and bid good night.

A fox looked at his shadow at sunrise and said, “I will have a camel for lunch today.” And all morning he went about looking for camels. But at noon he saw his shadow again-and he said, “A mouse will do.

The snow drifted down and down, all in ghostly silence, and lay thick and unbroken on the ground. It was a place of whites and blacks and greys. White towers and white snow and white statues, black shadows and black trees, the dark grey sky above. A pure world, Sansa thought. I do not belong here. Yet she stepped out all the same.

Do you know what a pearl is and what an opal is? My soul when you came sauntering to me first through those sweet summer evenings was beautiful but with the pale passionless beauty of a pearl. Your love has passed through me and now I feel my mind something like an opal, that is, full of strange uncertain hues and colours, of warm lights and quick shadows and of broken music.

It was in their friendship they just wanted to run forever, shadow and shadow.

You came to my life with what you were bringing, made of light and bread and shadow I expected you, and Like this I need you, Like this I love you, and to those who want to hear tomorrow that which I will not tell them, let them read it here, and let them back off today because it is early for these arguments.

Suddenly it wasn't only a personal thing to me. I could picture hundreds and hundreds of boys living on the wrong sides of cities, boys with black eyes who jumped at their own shadows. Hundreds of boys who maybe watched sunsets and looked at stars and ached for something better. I could see boys going down under street lights because they were mean and tough and hated the world, and it was too late to tell them that there was still good in it, and they wouldn't believe you if you did.

Dragons old and young, true and false, bright and dark. And you. A small man with a big shadow, snarling in the midst of all.

Thus, in a middle course between these heights and depths, they drifted through life rather than lived, the prey of aimless days and sterile memories, like wandering shadows that could have acquired substance only by consenting to root themselves in the solid earth of their distress.

Both light and shadow are the dance of Love.

I don’t love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

A person's looking for a simple truth to live by, there it is. CHOICE. To refuse to passively accept what we've been handed by nature or society, but to choose for ourselves. CHOICE. That's the difference between emptiness and substance, between a life actually lived and a wimpy shadow cast on an office wall.

When small men begin to cast big shadows, it means that the sun is about to set.

The most dangerous creature here would have to be me. So maybe I'm just scared of my own shadow.

It is a sad and very melancholy scene, which must strike everyone who knows and feels that we also have to pass one day through the valley of the shadow of death, and “que la fin de la vie humaine, ce sont des larmes ou des cheveux blancs.” What lies beyond this is a great mystery that only God knows, but He has revealed absolutely through His word that there is a resurrection of the dead.