There is nothing worse than silence, strung like heavy…

“Those who have witnessed executions say there is no sound worse than the weeping of mother watching her son being put to death. They're…

— carolee dean

A very special case. A few years more, and that pretty creature who you love too much, I think, will, without ever loving them,…

— Rachilde

closed my eyes and listened. It was like music I'd heard all my life, even more than "This Lullaby." All those keystrokes, all those…

— Sarah Dessen

Loyalty to God is alone fundamental. Feelings, words, deeds, must be beads strung on the string of duty. Let the world tell you in…

— Maltbie Davenport Babcock

Reading a text is more like tracing this process of constant flickering than it is like counting the beads on a necklace.

— Terry Eagleton

SHE is neither pink nor pale, And she never will be all mine; She learned her hands in a fairy-tale, And her mouth on…

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

You know, if I cleaned out my backpack, which I don't really use anymore, I'd find a bunch of beads. I have a bunch…

— Pat Connaughton

Every time some new huckster of angst-ridden metaphor is appointed by Art Forum, the congregation genuflects, stroking the catalog like a handful of Rosary…

— Abe Ajay

We must always remember that God is Love. "A fool indeed is he who, living on the banks of the Ganga, seeks to dig…

— Swami Vivekananda

Then, when people saw you strolling around at high noon holding your rosary beads, they’d think, ‘Well, that can’t be a vampire.

— Jeaniene Frost

Deciding to chant the mantra a certain number of times daily will help foster the japa habit. We should always keep a rosary with…

— Mata Amritanandamayi

I think all writers are always collecting characters as we go along. Not just characters of course, we're collecting EVERYTHING. Bits and pieces of…

— Alexandra Sokoloff

You think you know yourself, the world. You believe you've got a bead on everybody else's bullshit, but what about your own?

— Sam Lipsyte

slowly the pale dew-beads of light lapped up from flowers can thicken, darken to gold: honey of the human.

— Denise Levertov

The translucence that comes when life hardens into a bead of such cruel perfection you see it with the purest clarity. Everything suddenly there--life…

— Sue Monk Kidd