#silver

Mustardseed grinned at Bertie. "I was never any good at geometry, but you’re stuck in a love triangle, aren’t you?" "Shut up," she ordered even as Moth asked, "But what if there were four of them?" "That’s a love rectangle, and five people would be a love pentagon." "And what are six people in love?" Cobweb demanded. Mustardseed thought it over a moment. "Manslaughter, I suppose. ↗

— Lisa Mantchev

#cobweb #faires #funny #humor #love-triangles

You all have a gift. It's free. It's the gift of song. ↗

— Christine E. Schulze

#gift #inspirational-life #last #magic #music

One day we took the children to see a goldsmith refine gold after the ancient manner of the East. He was sitting beside his little charcoal fire. ("He shall sit as a refiner"; the gold- or silversmith never leaves his crucible once it is on the fire.) In the red glow lay a common curved roof tile; another tile covered it like a lid. This was the crucible. In it was the medicine made of salt, tamarind fruit and burnt brick dust, and imbedded in it was the gold. The medicine does its appointed work on the gold, "then the fire eats it," and the goldsmith lifts the gold out with a pair of tongs, lets it cool, rubs it between his fingers, and if not satisfied puts it back again in fresh medicine. This time he blows the fire hotter than it was before, and each time he puts the gold into the crucible, the heat of the fire is increased; "it could not bear it so hot at first, but it can bear it now; what would have destroyed it then helps it now." "How do you know when the gold is purified?" we asked him, and he answered, "When I can see my face in it [the liquid gold in the crucible] then it is pure. ↗

— Amy Carmichael

#fire #gold #heat #pain #pure

Make new friends, but keep the old; Those are silver, these are gold. ↗

— Joseph Parry

#gold #keep #make #new #new friends

Whatever it takes to get the image to reach that level is what that photographer needs to do. And for me, I just have such a love of the tactile and sensuous quality of a black and white silver gelatin print. ↗

— John Sexton

#black and white #get #i #image #in print

Silver, gold - I don't discriminate! I like sparkly things. ↗

— Charlaine Harris

#gold #i #like #silver #things

I don't believe in nirvana. If nirvana was handed to us on a silver platter, this would be the first day of our struggle to keep it. ↗

— Holly Near

#believe #day #first #handed #i

The only thing that's changed is the way Blake looks at me. And it takes my breath away. Blake's eyes glow in the firelight. But it's the flames behind his eyes that make my whole body run hot. I can feel myself blush as he brings his hands to my cheek, branding me with his touch. "Brianna Paxton." He lets his fingers rest against my skin, stroking just beneath my chin. "You are even more beautiful than I remembered. ↗

— Talia Vance

#beauty

The most pitiful among men is he who turns his dreams into silver and gold. ↗

— Khalil Gibran

#among #gold #his #into #men

Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things - trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. ↗

— C.S. Lewis

#puddleglum #dreams