No Saints In Black: februarie 2012

Sometimes I imagined how everything looked above those clouds, knowing without question that the sun was blond, and the endless atmosphere was a giant blue eye.

Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

He Looked and smelt like Autumn’s very brother, his face being sunburnt to wheat-colour, his eyes blue as corn-flowers, his sleeves and leggings dyed with fruit-stains, his hands clammy with the sweet juice of apples, his hat sprinkled with pips, and everywhere about him the sweet atmosphere of cider which at its first return each season has such an indescribable fascination for those who have been born and bred among the orchards.

Thomas Hardy, The Woodlanders

He wanted to say that all this talk of feelings was irrelevant. That
emotions come and go and can’t be controlled, so there’s no reason to worry about them. That in the end, people should be judged by their actions, since in the end, it was actions that defined everyone.

Nicholas Sparks, The Last Song