#description

The character of Jesus can only be ultimately known experientially through the indwelling of His Spirit in union with us." ~"The character of Jesus can only be ultimately known experientially through the indwelling of His Spirit in union with us." ~R. Alan Woods [2013] ↗

— R. Alan Woods

#character-defining #character-description #experientially #holy-spirit #incarnational

Remember...we don't see objects, we see light. [...] Light can do anything water can do--flow, wash, trickle. It can do anything an artist can do--paint, burnish, carve. Candlelight falls, licks a face. There is always light in a room. ↗

— Janet Fitch

#description #writing #writing-advice

There’s a writer for you,” he said. “Knows everything and at the same time he knows nothing.” [narrator]It was my first inkling that he was a writer. And while I like writers—because if you ask a writer anything you usually get an answer—still it belittled him in my eyes. Writers aren’t people exactly. Or, if they’re any good, they’re a whole lot of people trying so hard to be one person. It’s like actors, who try so pathetically not to look in mirrors. Who lean backward trying—only to see their faces in the reflecting chandeliers. ↗

— F. Scott Fitzgerald

#descriptions #insider #people #perceptions #writers

Some other memories of the funeral have stuck in my mind. The old boy’s face, for instance, when he caught up with us for the last time, just outside the village. His eyes were streaming with tears, of exhaustion or distress, or both together. But because of the wrinkles they couldn’t flow down. They spread out, crisscrossed, and formed a smooth gloss on the old, worn face. ↗

— Albert Camus

#vivid-description #humor

The latter. She had a good run," Sook said, doing a little shrug. It was his usual response to death at Mapleshade, and it was a safe bet that he felt that way about himself. Like most twice-widowed, Korea-vet, nature-loving, gun-enthusiast, bilingual, weed-connoisseur great grandfathers of five, he'd lived a full life. ↗

— Lisa Lutz

#humor #way-with-words #death

Newly Found Sugary Spill: Tastes Like Dried Spit or Old Soda ↗

— Chris Ware

#gross #similes #simile

Inside plum trees stood in a row, flowers lifted their pale throats to the moon and stars, a magnolia held its tight-closed buds like white candles in its green hands. ↗

— Marisa de los Santos

#personification #similes #simile

Tricky was a plain-faced man with a very handsome voice - a voice like the sound of a clarinet, at once liquid and penetrating, and lovely to listen to. ↗

— Sarah Waters

#description #voice #love

Phyllida's hair was where her power resided. It was expensively set into a smooth dome, like a band shell for the presentation of that long-running act, her face. ↗

— Jeffrey Eugenides

#face #faces #hair #personal-appearance #simile

The fact is, the Time Traveller was one of those men who are too clever to be believed: you never felt that you saw all round him; you always suspected some subtle reserve, some ingenuity in ambush, behind his lucid frankness. ↗

— H.G. Wells

#men