473 Quotes About Description

It was night, and the sky spreading into a rain that fell like darkness visible, a glistering where there was no light.

She watches her mother drink, then sits by her again before the picture window to watch the snow fall, watching closely until she can hear it. . . . Rachel listens to snow. And beyond snow.

It was so pure, the snow, the purest of all powders, I thought, so pure it must be from elsewhere, from another planet.

The sky is grey, with a thin TV-static drizzle that hangs in the air like it's been freeze-framed.

Outside the window there was snow falling, falling like movie snow, all the dreamy fluffy bits drifting around in the light of a single streetlamp . . . I watched the snow slow down, thin out. Then it was two or three pieces at a time, falling reversibly, wavering up and down and up again like they didn't know where to go.

Night was fading over the fields as if the rain had washed the darkness out of the hem of its garment.

There was a time when I quite liked what I saw in the looking-glass, but not anymore. Now I’m startled, and more than startled, by the visage that so abruptly appears there, never at all the one that I expect. I have been elbowed aside by a parody of myself, a sadly dishevelled figure in a Halloween mask made of sagging, pinkish- grey rubber that bears no more than a passing resemblance to the image of what I look like that I stubbornly retain in my head.

Blue was a fanciful, but sensible thing. Like a platypus, or one of those sandwiches that had been cut into circles for a fancy tea party.

She had short curls and her face had so many wrinkles it looked as if someone had been trying to draw her for a very long time and every line put in had made the face more like her.