#gabriel

Tal vez fui demasiado cuidadoso, demasiado protector, pero no podía soportar la idea de causarte dolor. ↗

— Sylvain Reynard

#spanish #spanish

Hmph," she said. "I'd like to see you learn how to manage sitting and standing up straight in stays and petticoats and a dress with a foot's worth of train!" "So would I," said Gideon from across the room. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#gideon-lightwood #tessa-gray #tessa-gray

He feeds upon her face by day and night, And she with true kind eyes looks back on him, Fair as the moon and joyful as the light: Not wan with waiting, not with sorrow dim; Not as she is, but was when hope shone bright; Not as she is, but as she fills his dream. ↗

— Christina Rossetti

#gabriel-rossetti #lizzie-siddal #poetry #pre-raphaelite #dreams

I'm a huge stadium rock fan, but I'm also a fan of everything from Massive Attack to Peter Gabriel, U2, the Police, Radiohead, and Coldplay. ↗

— Tom DeLonge

#attack #coldplay #everything #fan #gabriel

A simple idea. And the man that worked on it, Mike Gabriel, doubled the value. Beautiful job. I should say triple. We have others like that, but, unfortunately, shorts, which are my favorite approach, are economically of no value. ↗

— Joe Grant

#beautiful #doubled #economically #favorite #gabriel

My friends are Peter Gabriel, Bruce Springsteen, and we're singing about mortality, getting older. It's an interesting time. ↗

— Sting

#bruce #bruce springsteen #friends #gabriel #getting

Always. At every moment, asleep and awake, during the most sublime and most abject moments, Amaranta thought of Rebeca, because solitude had made a selection in her memory and had burned the dimming piles of nostalgic waste that life had accumulated in her heart, and had purified, magnified, and eternalized the others, the most bitter ones. ↗

— Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez

#solitude #life

My existence is colorless when I’m not imagining you. You haunt me, Annabelle.  ↗

— April Brookshire

#imagination

Let me feed you,” he whispered, his tone suddenly husky. He sounded like sex. Or at least, what Julia imagined sex would sound like if it was sitting on a white banquette with shining blue eyes and an arrogant jaw, trying to press a cold glass up to her mouth. Oh my, Gabriel. Oh my, Gabriel. Oh my, Gabriel. Oh…my…Gabriel. ↗

— Sylvain Reynard

#sylvain-reynard #imagination

The more sensitive the lunatic, the less able is he to resist this prying interest of the normal human being. I felt that Renée's change of key - to myself, I compared Renée to a sweet melody, a little flat despite its laborious harmonies - was approaching. ↗

— Colette

#insanity #sensitivity #sidonie-gabrielle-colette #change