290 Quotes About Imagery

They're endless, stretching beyond the horizon and spreading around me like forever. They heave and moan, frothing over each other, cresting and falling. The pure depth and vastness of it all beyond comprehension, my eyes unable to focus on any individual. Instead I'm drowned in their need. They ripple and swell, the bodies of the Mudo, like the ocean. Like the dead-tossed waves.

But then I'm distracted by movement in the Forest, a glimpse of red at the edge of my vision. She's no longer running, no longer even walking or standing, but crawling now. Dragging her broken body across the ground toward me, her fingers clawing at the dirt. Her progress is slow, unbearably so. Such that it's almost sad to see her reduced to this. Her body has used up it's stores of energy and has begun collapsing in on itself.

In the middle of nowhere, along a quiet stretch of road, the diner dreamt of the hungry dead. And of two men.

Luna’s piercing gaze denudes Juniper, to the point where she feels like she is fused with Tina, naked and violated before the brightening gaze of the moon. Juniper takes two steps back and her breath is caught in her throat. This jovial creature has eclipsed into something entirely perceptive and terror-inducing. Luna’s black eyes are staid and hollow.

We must be clear that when it comes to atoms, language can be used only as in poetry. The poet, too, is not nearly so concerned with describing facts as with creating images and establishing mental connections.[About describing atomic models in the language of classical physics:]

These are the ice horses, horseswho entered through your head,and then your heart,your beaten heart.These are the ones who loved you. They are the horses who have held youso close that you have becomea part of them,an ice horsegalloping into fire.

He makes an effort to be more spontaneous on Facebook.

The autumn twilight turned into deep and early night as they walked. Tristran could smell the distant winter on the air--a mixture of night-mist and crisp darkness and the tang of fallen leaves.

It was winter, and a night of bitter cold. The snow lay thick upon the ground, and upon the branches of the trees: the frost kept snapping the little twigs on either side of them, as they passed: and when they came to the Mountain-Torrent she was hanging motionless in air, for the Ice-King had kissed her.