Striped Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
tigers-have-striped-skin-not-just-striped-fur
my-sisterinlaw-is-skinny-that-she-has-striped-dress-with-only-one-stripe-phyllis-diller
rock-roll-is-not-much-question-electric-guitars-as-it-is-striped-pants-david-lee-roth
secondly-i-thought-it-was-ridiculous-to-have-two-undercover-policemen-driving-around-in-striped-tomato
im-like-waldo-in-that-im-trying-to-find-myself-and-im-wearing-red-white-striped-sweater-jarod-kintz
i-have-dreamed-our-bed-as-if-it-were-shore-where-we-would-be-washed-up-not-this-striped-mattress-we-must-cover-with-sheets-from-after-absence-linda-pastan
choose-checked-striped-wall-paper-people-will-be-halfway-home-before-they-are-able-to-focus-phyllis-diller
in-countries-where-all-crooked-politicians-wear-pinstriped-suits-best-people-are-bareassed-paul-theroux
contrary-to-what-fans-may-think-you-dont-just-show-up-wear-striped-shirt-whistle-on-friday-night
someone-may-offer-you-freshly-caught-whole-large-fish-like-salmon-striped-bass-dont-panic-take-it
when-i-was-15-i-was-wearing-sandals-corduroys-guernsey-striped-pullover-beard-that-was-hardly-there-shades-beret-goal-was-hanging-out
greenmail-in-case-youre-wondering-is-when-company-pays-raider-premium-for-his-holdingsif-hell-go-away-what-i-think-it-really-is-is-blackmail-in-lee-iacocca
when-i-started-in-fashion-i-had-already-adopted-sailorstriped-sweater-as-my-uniform-that-way-i-wouldnt-have-to-drive-myself-crazy-trying-to-figure-jean-paul-gaultier
striped-shirts-printed-shorts-jeans-trousers-are-all-items-i-buy-wear-lot-in-my-private-life
i-have-lot-breton-striped-top-silk-shirts-that-always-feel-good-i-also-like-things-with-masculine-edge-dislike-anything-too-girly-jessica-raine
ah-come-now-i-look-like-angel-but-im-not-the-old-rules-nature-encompass-many-creatures-like-me-were-beautiful-like-diamondbacked-snake-striped-tiger-yet-were-merciless-killers-an
is-that-invitation-i-suppose-it-is-good-cades-voice-dropped-lower-adding-one-last-thing-before-hanging-up-and-tell-your-friend-in-striped-shirt-that-hes-in-my-seat-julie-james
being-blonde-for-me-means-never-having-to-say-ill-have-honey-striped-half-head-highlights-for-200-to-bored-colourist-in-mayfair-salon-which-is-much-more-satisfying-not-to-mention
being-blonde-for-me-means-never-having-to-say-ill-have-honeystriped-halfhead-highlights-for-200-to-bored-colourist-in-mayfair-salon-which-is-much-rachel-johnson
if-you-make-believe-that-ten-guys-in-pinstriped-suits-are-back-in-kindergarten-class-playing-with-building-blocks-youll-get-rough-picture-what-life-lee-iacocca
if-i-try-be-something-i-am-not-if-i-try-be-cool-i-am-not-i-am-boring-white-man-in-suit-usually-pin-striped-suit
first-all-i-thought-it-was-ugly-i-thought-it-was-ridiculous-that-undercover-police-guys-would-drive-striped-tomato-ive-never-been-big-champion-paul-michael-glaser
nothing-like-orange-olive-greenstriped-couch-sitting-on-orange-carpet-surrounded-by-dark-wood-paneling-to-get-inspiration-rolling-erynn-mangum
the-little-woman-wearing-pink-black-zigzagstriped-pantsuit-over-black-turtleneck-resembled-skinny-zebra-whod-odd-on-peptobismol-vonnie-davis
there-was-photo-me-with-weird-sunglasses-on-green-sweatshirt-some-striped-thing-with-tights-cowboy-bootsi-just-saw-that-photo-thought-god-i-look-marykate-olsen
you-can-blame-my-mom-for-some-my-worst-fashion-moments-she-used-to-dress-me-my-sister-in-lot-patterns-like-she-would-put-me-in-striped-stockings-with-floral-dress-like-why-are-yo
oh-for-love-god-there-is-no-agent-more-agent-than-you-i-swear-you-have-pinstriped-ties-encrypted-into-your-dna-when-you-die-coffin-is-going-to-read-property-fbi-lisa-gardner
one-name-always-stands-out-when-it-comes-to-actors-taking-on-monsters-our-nightmares-robert-englund-in-nightmare-on-elm-street-series-englund-kept-us-awake-as-night-with-striped-
what-exactly-was-difference-he-wondered-to-himself-and-who-decided-which-people-wore-striped-pajamas-which-people-wore-uniforms-john-boyne
history-is-funny-little-creature-do-you-remember-visiting-your-old-aunt-that-autumn-when-trees-shone-yellow-how-she-owned-striped-unsocial-cat-quite-old-fat-wounded-about-ears-wh
But the heavy stroke which most of all distresses me is my dear Mother. I cannot overcome my too selfish sorrow, all her tenderness towards me, her care and anxiety for my welfare at all times, her watchfulness over my infant years, her advice and instruction in maturer age; all, all indear her memory to me, and highten my sorrow for her loss. At the same time I know a patient submission is my Duty. I will strive to obtain it! But the lenient hand of time alone can blunt the keen Edg of Sorrow. He who deignd to weep over a departed Friend, will surely forgive a sorrow which at all times desires to be bounded and restrained, by a firm Belief that a Being of infinite wisdom and unbounded Goodness, will carve out my portion in tender mercy towards me! Yea tho he slay me I will trust in him said holy Job. What tho his corrective Hand hath been streached against me; I will not murmer. Tho earthly comforts are taken away I will not repine, he who gave them has surely a right to limit their Duration, and has continued them to me much longer than deserved. I might have been striped of my children as many others have been. I might o! forbid it Heaven, I might have been left a solitary widow. Still I have many blessing left, many comforts to be thankfull for, and rejoice in. I am not left to mourn as one without hope. My dear parent knew in whom she had Believed... The violence of her disease soon weakned her so that she was unable to converse, but whenever she could speak, she testified her willingness to leave the world and an intire resignation to the Divine Will. She retaind her Senses to the last moment of her Existance, and departed the world with an easy tranquility, trusting in the merrits of a Redeamer, " (p. 81 and 82).

Abigail Adams
but-heavy-stroke-which-most-all-distresses-me-is-my-dear-mother-i-cannot-overcome-my-too-selfish-sorrow-all-her-tenderness-towards-me-her-care-anxiety-for-my-welfare-at-all-times
It was almost a mystical experience. I do not know how else to put it. My mind outran time as he neared, and it was as though I had an eternity to ponder the approach of this man who was my brother. His garments were filthy, his face blackened, the stump of his right arm raised, gesturing anywhere. The great beast that he rode was striped, black and red, with a wild red mane and tail. But it really was a horse, and its eyes rolled and there was foam at its mouth and its breathing was painful to hear. I saw then that he wore his blade slung across his back, for its haft protruded high above his right shoulder. Still slowing, eyes fixed upon me, he departed the road, bearing slightly toward my left, jerked the reins once and released them, keeping control of the horse with his knees. His left hand went up in a salute-like movement that passed above his head and seized the hilt of his weapon. It came free without a sound, describing a beautiful arc above him and coming to rest in a lethal position out from his left shoulder and slanting back, like a single wing of dull steel with a minuscule line of edge that gleamed like a filament of mirror. The picture he presented was burned into my mind with a kind of magnificence, a certain splendor that was strangely moving. The blade was a long, scythe like affair that I had seen him use before. Only then we had stood as allies against a mutual foe I had begun to believe unbeatable. Benedict had proved otherwise that night. Now that I saw it raised against me I was overwhelmed with a sense of my own mortality, which I had never experienced before in this fashion. It was as though a layer had been stripped from the world and I had a sudden, full understanding of death itself.

Roger Zelazny
it-was-almost-mystical-experience-i-do-not-know-how-else-to-put-it-my-mind-outran-time-as-he-neared-it-was-as-though-i-had-eternity-to-ponder-approach-this-man-who-was-my-brother
The bast, dispersing in shreds in the sunset whispered "Time has begun." The son, Adam, stripped naked, descended into the Old Testament of his native land and arrayed himself in bast; a wreath of roadside field grass he placed upon his brow, a staff, not a switch, he pulled from the ground, flourishing the birch branch like a sacred palm. On the road he stood like a guard. The dust-gray road ran into the sunset. And a crow perched there, perched and croaked, there where the celestial fire consumed the earth. There were blind men along the dust-gray road running into the twilight. Antique, crooken, they trailed along, lonely and sinister silhouettes, holding to one another and to their leader's cane. They were raising dust. One was beard-less, he kept squinting. Another, a little old man with a protruding lip, was whispering and praying. A third, covered with red hair, frowned. Their backs were bent, their heads bowed low, their arms extended to the staff. Strange it was to see this mute procession in the terrible twilight. They made their way immutable, primordial, blind. Oh, if only they could open their eyes, oh if only they were not blind! Russian Land, awake! And Adam, rude image of the returned king, lowered the birch branch to their white pupils. And on them he laid his hands, as, groaning and moaning they seated themselves in the dust and with trembling hands pushed chunks of black bread into their mouths. Their faces were ashen and menacing, lit with the pale light of deadly clouds. Lightning blazed, their blinded faces blazed. Oh, if only they opened their eyes, oh, if only they saw the light! Adam, Adam, you stand illumined by lightnings. Now you lay the gentle branch upon their faces. Adam, Adam, say, see, see! And he restores their sight. But the blind men turning their ashen faces and opening their white eyes did not see. And the wind whispered "Thou art behind the hill." From the clouds a fiery veil began to shimmer and died out. A little birch murmured, beseeching, and fell asleep. The dusk dispersed at the horizon and a bloody stump of the sunset stuck up. And spotted with brilliant coals glowing red, the bast streamed out from the sunset like a striped cloak. On the waxen image of Adam the field grass wreaths sighed fearfully giving a soft whistle and the green dewy clusters sprinkled forth fiery tears on the blind faces of the blind. He knew what he was doing, he was restoring their sight. ("Adam")

Andrei Bely
the-bast-dispersing-in-shreds-in-sunset-whispered-time-has-begun-the-son-adam-stripped-naked-descended-into-old-testament-his-native-land-arrayed-himself-in-bast-wreath-roadside-
Last year I had a very unusual experience. I was awake, with my eyes closed, when I had a dream. It was a small dream about time. I was dead, I guess, in deep black space high up among many white stars. My own consciousness had been disclosed to me, and I was happy. Then I saw far below me a long, curved band of color. As I came closer, I saw that it stretched endlessly in either direction, and I understood that I was seeing all the time of the planet where I had lived. It looked like a woman's tweed scarf; the longer I studied any one spot, the more dots of color I saw. There was no end to the deepness and variety of the dots. At length, I started to look for my time, but, although more and more specks of color and deeper and more intricate textures appeared in the fabric, I couldn't find my time, or any time at all that I recognized as being near my time. I couldn't make out so much as a pyramid. Yet as I looked at the band of time, all the individual people, I understood with special clarity, were living at the very moment with great emotion, in intricate detail, in their individual times and places, and they were dying and being replaced by ever more people, one by one, like stitches in which whole worlds of feeling and energy were wrapped, in a never-ending cloth. I remembered suddenly the color and texture of our life as we knew it- these things had been utterly forgotten- and I thought as I searched for it on the limitless band, 'that was a good time then, a good time to be living.' And I began to remember our time. I recalled green fields with carrots growing, one by one, in slender rows. Men and women in bright vests and scarves came and pulled the carrots out of the soil and carried them in baskets to shaded kitchens, where they scrubbed them with yellow brushes under running water... I saw may apples in forest, erupting through leaf-strewn paths. Cells on the root hairs of sycamores split and divided and apples grew striped and spotted in the fall. Mountains kept their cool caves, and squirrels raced home to their nests through sunlight and shade. I remembered the ocean, and I seemed to be in the ocean myself, swimming over orange crabs that looked like coral, or off the deep Atlantic banks where whitefish school. Or again I saw the tops of poplars, and the whole sky brushed with clouds in pallid streaks, under which wilds ducks flew, and called, one by one, and flew on. All these things I saw. Scenes grew in depth and sunlit detail before my eyes, and were replaced by ever more scenes, as I remembered the life of my time with increasing feeling. At last I saw the earth as a globe in space, and I recalled the ocean's shape and the form of continents, saying to myself with surprise as I looked at the planet, 'Yes, that's how it was then, that part there we called 'France''. I was filled with the deep affection of nostalgia- and then I opened my eyes.

Annie Dillard
last-year-i-had-unusual-experience-i-was-awake-with-my-eyes-closed-when-i-had-dream-it-was-small-dream-about-time-i-was-dead-i-guess-in-deep-black-space-high-up-among-many-white-
Last year I had a very unusual experience. I was awake, with my eyes closed, when I had a dream. It was a small dream about time. I was dead, I guess, in deep blank space high up above many white stars. My own consciousness had been disclosed to me, and I was happy. Then I saw far below me a long, curved band of color. As I came closer, I saw that it stretched endlessly in either direction, and I understood that I was seeing all the time of the planet where I had lived. It looked like a woman's tweed scarf; the longer I studied any one spot, the more dots of color I saw. There was no end to the deepness and variety of dots. At length I started to look for my time, but, although more and more specks of color and deeper and more intricate textures appeared in the fabric, I couldn't find my time, or any time at all that I recognized as being near my time. I couldn't make out so much as a pyramid. Yet as I looked at the band of time, all the individual people, I understood with special clarity, were living at that very moment with great emotion, in intricate, detail, in their individual times and places, and they were dying and being replaced by ever more people, one by one, like stitches in which wholly worlds of feeling and energy were wrapped in a never-ending cloth. I remembered suddenly the color and texture of our life as we knew it- these things had been utterly forgotten- and I thought as I searched for it on the limitless band, 'that was a good time then, a good time to be living.' And I began to remember our time. I recalled green fields with carrots growing, one by one, in slender rows. Men and women in bright vests and scarves came and pulled the carrots out of the soil and carried them in baskets to shaded kitchens, where they scrubbed them with yellow brushes under running water. I saw white-faced cattle lowing and wading in creeks. I saw May apples in forests, erupting through leaf-strewn paths. Cells on the root hairs of sycamores split and divided, and apples grew spotted and striped in the fall. Mountains kept their cool caves and squirrels raced home to their nests through sunlight and shade. I remembered the ocean, and I seemed to be in the ocean myself, swimming over orange crabs that looked like coral, or off the deep Atlantic banks where whitefish school. Or again I saw the tops of poplars, and the whole sky brushed with clouds in pallid streaks, under which wild ducks flew with outstretched necks, and called, one by one, and flew on. All these things I saw. Scenes grew in depth and sunlit detail before my eyes, and were replaced by ever more scenes, as I remember the life of my time with increasing feeling. At last I saw the earth as a globe in space, and I recalled the ocean's shape and the form of continents, saying to myself with surprise as I looked at the planet, 'yes, that's how it was then, that part there was called France.' I was filled with the deep affection of nostalgia- and then I opened my eyes. We all ought to be able to conjure up sights like these at will, so that we can keep in mind the scope of texture's motion in time.

Annie Dillard
last-year-i-had-unusual-experience-i-was-awake-with-my-eyes-closed-when-i-had-dream-it-was-small-dream-about-time-i-was-dead-i-guess-in-deep-blank-space-high-up-above-many-white-
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