Emerald Quotes

#1. And it seemed that my flesh crawled with the gentleness of those glaucous things evoked by the verse. It was as if fingertips, like cut emeralds or fresh olives, were stroking the palm of my hand. #Quote by Jean Lorrain

#2. What's it like, for you to sense me?" she asked. Her eyes were wide now, emerald green in the lamplight and peering into Héyowan.
He blushed, taken off guard. 'Like I'm not alone,' he almost said. #Quote by B.T. Lowry

#3. Some make their worlds without knowing it. Their universes are just sesame seeds and three-day weekends and dial tones and skinned knees and physics and driftwood and emerald earrings and books dropped in bathtubs and holes in guitars and plastic and empathy and hardwood and heavy water and high black stockings and the history of the Vikings and brass and obsolescence and burnt hair and collapsed souffles and the impossibility of not falling in love in an art museum with the person standing next to you looking at the same painting and all the other things that just happen and are. #Quote by Jonathan Safran Foer

#4. A walk you made by disappearing amongst the green grasses is always richer than a walk you make amongst the green emeralds! #Quote by Mehmet Murat Ildan

#5. This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green,
Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes,
Thorn-blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between
Where the wood fumes up and the watery, flickering rushes.
I am amazed at this spring, this conflagration
Of green fires lit on the soil of the earth, this blaze
Of growing, and sparks that puff in wild gyration,
Faces of people streaming across my gaze. #Quote by D.H. Lawrence

#6. Look at that mallard as he floats on the lake; see his elevated head glittering with emerald green, his amber eyes glancing in the light! Even at this distance, he has marked you, and suspects that you bear no goodwill towards him, for he sees that you have a gun, and he has many a time been frightened by its report, or that of some other. The wary bird draws his feet under his body, springs upon then, opens his wings, and with loud quacks bids you farewell. #Quote by John James Audubon

#7. I tell the truth,' she said. 'But I tell it slant. #Quote by Jane Yolen

#8. Somewhere in the gluey Nyquil haze, the memory came of standing in the lake with Lise the week before, stomping their feet in the emerald thick of the water. On the shoreline were Skye's hard-jeaned boys with their disappearing tattoos. They whistled at Lise, fingers hooked in their mouths. Let's do it, Lise whispered in her ear, her tongue showing between her teeth. Let's go in. When she woke up, in the purple of four a.m., she could still hear Lise's voice in her ear, high as a little girl's. We went behind those tall bushes. He took my tights off first. It was so cold, but his hands - #Quote by Megan Abbott

#9. His character is like an emerald - multifaceted and enhanced by inclusions. #Quote by Melika Dannese Lux

#10. The light touched something green in the window corner and made it a lump of emerald, a cave of pure green like stoneless fruit. It sharpened the edges of chairs and tables and stitched white table-cloths with fine gold wires. #Quote by Virginia Woolf

#11. Check," she announced, not even bothering to hide her triumph. Rafe smiled at her enthusiasm. He'd had centuries to perfect the game. Thus far no mortal had beaten him, and very few vampires for that matter. The Lord of Cornwall, however, trounced him regularly. "It is only because I am distracted, Querida," he argued gently. She blinked and that lovely mouth of hers gave the most delightful moue. "Distracted by what?" "You," he said, blatantly staring at the curves of her breasts above her emerald brocade gown. #Quote by Brooklyn Ann

#12. I had an emerald ring that my mother gave me four or five years before she died. She wore it always, I wore it always, and I have given it to my daughter, and she wears it always. This ring belonged originally to my great, great grandfather. It's well over 150 years old. #Quote by Jennifer Johnston

#13. When a creature begins to emerge from it's chrysails there is a point at which it is neither one thing nor the other, not quite grown into a new identity nor rid of the old one.
It's wings are folded and sticky, it's colours hidden. Whether it will emerge in shades of emerald and lapis lazuli or the colour of mud is yet to be revealed.
It is that long, still, moment of waiting that fascinates me utterly. The suspence of waiting for beauty to unfurl. #Quote by Meg Rosoff

#14. *You are not yet in the Emerald Dream. First, you must remove your earthly shell ... * the voice in his head instructed. *As you reach the state of sleep, you will slip your body off as you would a coat. Start from your heart and mind, for they are the links that most bind you to the mortal plane. See? This is how it is done ... * - Chapter 4 #Quote by Richard A. Knaak

#15. I open the door and fall into the arms of the person in front of me.
"Emerald, I am putting you into the bath right now." His voice is commanding, and I feel him dragging me along. My body is now engulfed in warm water; I open my eyes to stare at the white wall in front of me.
‪
The Passion To Live Sep 29 :-) #Quote by Dana L. Elgrod

#16. Living from the Creator Orientation is actually more challenging. In the Victim Orientation, I didn't have to exercise conscious choice; I just reacted to my circumstances. #Quote by David Emerald Womeldorff

#17. I even yelled at you last night." Phin eased up. "For which I apologize."
"It was kind of nice," Sophie said. "At least you know I was there."
"Oh hell, Spohie, I always know you're there." Phin rolled twords her on one hip, and Sophie felt felt a flare of hope, but he was just digging something out of his back pocket. "Here." He weld out an emerald-cut diamond ring the size of her head. "Marry me, Julie Ann. Ruin the rest of my life."
"Hello." Sophie gasped at the ring. "Jeez, that thing is huge. Where did you get it?"
"My mother gave it to me," Phin said sounding bemused.
Then the other shoe dropped. "Marry you?" Sophie said, and the sun came out and the birds to sing and the river sent up a cheer. Marriage was probably out- Liz as a mother-in-law was too terrifying to complete , and Phin would never get elected agian if he was married to a pornographer- but suddenly everything else was looking pretty good. #Quote by Jennifer Crusie

#18. As the spring comes on, and the densening outlines of the elm give daily a new design for a Grecian urn, - its hue, first brown with blossoms, then emerald with leaves, - we appreciate the vanishing beauty of the bare boughs. In our favored temperate zone, the trees denude themselves each year, like the goddesses before Paris, that we may see which unadorned loveliness is the fairest. #Quote by Thomas Wentworth Higginson

#19. Never give up your originality, because when you're being original, that's when you're doing your best! #Quote by Emerald Wilson-Bey

#20. I touched Loki's chest, running my fingers over the bumps of his scar. I didn't know why exactly, but I felt compelled to, as if the scar connected us somehow.
"You just couldn't wait to get me naked, could you, Princess?" Loki asked tiredly. I started to pull my hand back, but he put his own hand over it, keeping it in pace.
"No,I-I was checking for wounds," I stumbled. I wouldn't meet his gaze.
"I'm sure." He moved his thumb, almost caressing my hand, until it hit my ring. "What's that?" He tried to sit up to see it, so I lifted my hand, showing him the emerald-encrusted oval on my finger. "Is that a wedding ring?"
"No, engagement." I lowered my hand, resting it on the bed next to him. "I'm not married yet."
"I'm not too late, then." He smiled and settled back in the bed.
"Too late for what?" I asked.
"To stop you, of course." Still smiling, he closed his eyes.
"Is that why you're here?" I asked, failing to point out how near we were to my nuptials.
"I told you why I'm here," Loki said.
"What happened to you, Loki?" I asked, my voice growing thick when I thought about what he had to have gone through to get all those marks and bruises.
"Are you crying?" Loki asked and opened his eyes.
"No, I'm not crying." I wasn't, but my eyes were moist.
"Don't cry." He tried to sit up, but he winced when he lifted his head, so I put my hand gently on his chest to keep him down.
"You need to rest," I said.
"I will #Quote by Amanda Hocking

#21. Nancy grabbed Plum's hand and together they ran around the last curve and then they were leaning against the old stone wall that marked Lookout Hill. Far, far down below them, a river was trying to wriggle its way out of a steep canyon. Over to the right, thick green hills crowded close to each other to share one filmy white cloud. To the left, as far as they could see the land flowed into valleys that shaded from a pale watery green, through lime, emerald, jade, leaf, forest to a dark, dark, bluish-green, almost black. The rivers were like inky lines, the ponds like ink blots. #Quote by Betty MacDonald

#22. For in all she said, however open she seemed and voluptuous, there was something hidden; in all she did, however daring, there was something concealed. So the green flame seems hidden in the emerald, or the sun prisoned in a hill. The clearness was only outward; within was a wandering flame. #Quote by Virginia Woolf

#23. The Ozmists around him went iridescent emerald, like light striking a thousand whirring beetles in flight, gold and emerald, emerald and gold, the colors of Lurlinemas, the colors of pine polen in champagne sunlight. #Quote by Gregory Maguire

#24. Her caramel skin and curly beach sand hair spreads in wavy chops like the choppy storm waves on the ocean. Her fluffy rose colored lips glisten with eyes emerald green and almond shaped set deep into her face and yet when she looks at you with those same deep set eyes, it feels like they jump out, speaking to you. #Quote by Ami Blackwelder

#25. Instead of the bright, blue sky of America, I am covered with the soft, grey fog of the Emerald Isle. I breathe, and lo! the chattel becomes a man. #Quote by Frederick Douglass

#26. The illustrations in the book are beautiful. The story is a great
page-turner and is very clear and easy to read. The children really enjoy answering the questions."-Kay Harling (Director Emerald Preschool & Community Kindergarten, B.Ed Early Childhood.) #Quote by Allison Jenkinson

#27. He was looking at Mr. Nancy, an old black man with a pencil moustache, in his check sports jacket and his lemon yellow gloves, riding a carousel lion as it rose and lowered, high in the air; and, at the same time, in the same place, he saw a jeweled spider as high as a horse, its eyes an emerald nebula, strutting, staring down at him; and simultaneously he was looking at an extraordinarily tall man with teak colored skin and three sets of arms, wearing a flowing ostrich-feather headdress, his face painted with red stripes, riding an irritated golden lion, two of his six hands holding on tightly to the beast's mane; and he was also seeing a young black boy, dressed in rags, his left foot all swollen and crawling with black flies; and last of all, and behind all these things, Shadow was looking at a tiny brown spider, hiding under a withered ochre leaf. Shadow saw all these things, and he knew they were the same thing. #Quote by Neil Gaiman

#28. I do not know what happened with your parents or why they did what they did. But in all the world, I could have wished for no daughter but you. #Quote by John Stephens

#29. While the 2013 color of the year, PANTONE 17-5641 Emerald, served as a symbol of growth, renewal and prosperity, Radiant Orchid reaches across the color wheel to intrigue the eye and spark the imagination, #Quote by Leatrice Eiseman

#30. What's your deal?" I asked in the hallway after class. "I know you did that."
He shrugged. "So?"
... "That was rude, Daemon. You embarrassed him." ... "And I thought using your ... stuff would draw them here?"
... "That was barley a blip on the map. That didn't even leave a trace on anyone."
He lowered his head until the edges of his dark curled brushed my cheek. I was caught between wanting to crawl into my locker or crawl into him. "Besides, I was doing you a favor."
I laughed. "And how was that doing me a favor?"
... "Studying math wasn't what he had in mind."
That was debatable, but I decided to play along ... "And what if that's the case?"
"You like Simon?" His chin jerked up, anger flashing in his emerald eyes. "You can't possibly like him."
... "Are you jealous? ... Your jealous of Simon?" I lowered my voice. "Of a human? For shame, Daemon. #Quote by Jennifer L. Armentrout

#31. Oui," the lady said in a slightly dazed voice, "but I cannot give you the emerald silk. That has already been selected by Lady Margaret Mitcham and promised to her."
Ian's expression took on a look of surprised displeasure. "I'm surprised you allowed her to choose it, madame. It will make her complexion look sallow. Tell her I said so."
He turned and left the shop without the slightest idea of who Lady Margaret Mitcham was. Behind him an assistant came to lift the shimmering emerald silk and take it back to the seamstresses. "Non," the modiste said, her appreciate gaze on the tall, broad-shouldered man who was bounding into his carriage. "It is to be used for someone else."
"But Lady Mitcham chose it."
With a last wistful glance at the handsome man who obviously appreciated exquisite cloth, she dismissed her assistant's objection. "Lord Mitcham is an old man with bad eyes; he cannot appreciate the gown I can make from this cloth."
"But what shall I tell Lady Mitcham?" the harassed assistant implored.
"Tell her," her mistress said wryly, "that Monsieur Thornton-no, Lord Kensington-said it would make her complexion sallow. #Quote by Judith McNaught

#32. What's coming out of the stereo is like a genre unto itself, a charming, fucked-up fairy tale that immediately breaks my heart in all the best ways.
I stretch out on the floor with my ear parked next to the speaker, in a trance. I place the album cover over my face to block out any interruption as "I'll Be Your Mirror" seduces me. I immediately add the song to my mental list of top ten songs ever.
And as I'm bobbing my head with dreamy abandon, I hear a voice. "Nice choice, DJ," it says.
I slowly slide the album cover down past my eyes and look up. My eyes spy his shoes first
paint-splattered brogues. My heart stops when I look at his face. Pale skin, messy black hair, emerald eyes ... Senor Smolder! He's eighteen, maybe nineteen. And no, my imagination didn't lie, he is just as devastating now as he was the first time I saw him. Only even more, because he just complimented my taste in music. #Quote by Shauna Cross

#33. But I guess everything in life is a bit disappointing, isn't it? #Quote by John Stephens

#34. "Is Jeb alive?" I ask Morpheus.
White bleeds into his jeweled markings - the color of indifference. "I didn't kill him, if that's what you're implying."
"You know it's not. Could you for once just give me a straight answer?"
He gazes up at the smoky gray sky. "Your mortal is alive and well. In fact, you will no doubt be seeing him very soon."
Relieved tears spring into my eyes. "So, that means you know where he is?" Is it possible Morpheus took Jeb under his wings after all?
Dad stops stuffing the fabric in the bag, as if waiting to hear the answer.
Appraising his cane, Morpheus growls. "I do know where he is." Before I can respond, he lifts his eyes to mine, jewels now bordering on emerald green. "I suppose I should be grateful his name wasn't the first thing that came out of your mouth." #Quote by A.G. Howard

#35. Snow, tenderly caught by eddying breezes, swirled and spun in to and out of bright, lustrous shapes that gleamed against the emerald-blazoned black drape of sky and sparkled there for a moment, hanging, before settling gently to the soft, green-tufted plain with all the sickly sweetness of an over-written sentence. #Quote by Steven Brust

#36. Of the authors' imagination and used fictitiously. Emerald Green Desiree Holt #Quote by Desiree Holt

#37. Oh," I said, obviously startled by him blocking the door. I swallowed hard as my eyes darted back downward, trying desperately to avoid his searing, deep emerald gaze. It was damning, yet my toes curled with need in seeing him in such a raw state. When I stole another peek into his face, I immediately regretted it. He did not look happy. In fact, he was scowling. He looked so …so …fierce. #Quote by Baylee Crush

#38. He came through the door howling, an axe arched high over his head. His eyes danced in madness, stuck fast on the two of them kissing, caught in their embrace and unaware of him. For a moment they went on, oblivious, untouched by the madman soon to come. It was a bright bubble of illusion on the eve of utter and complete madness.
She was the first to see. The image of her stepfather captured in Mateo's eyes, the furious glee of the Nazi's vengeance, sharp and mirrored in their emerald beauty. Soon those eyes were wide with terror and sorrow in a moment of unbidden regret caught at the end of such happiness. #Quote by Amanda M. Lyons

#39. From scarlet to powdered gold, to blazing yellow, to the rare ashen emerald, to the orange and black velvet of your shimmering corselet, out to the tip that like an amber thorn begins you, small, superlative being, you are a miracle, and you blaze #Quote by Pablo Neruda

#40. Victims may be defensive, submissive, over-accommodating to others, passive-aggressive in conflict, dependent on others for self-worth, overly sensitive, even manipulative. They're often angry, resentful, and envious, feeling unworthy or ashamed about their circumstances. Have you ever felt or acted this way? #Quote by David Emerald Womeldorff

#41. Gina hoisted herself up onto her elbows and gaped at Spike. "So that's the famous Spike I've been hearing so much about from your brothers? Damn, he is ugly."
Jesse, who'd stayed where he was, looked defensive. Spike was his baby, and you just don't go around calling Jesse's baby ugly.
"He's not so bad," I said, hoping Gina would get the message and shut up.
"Are you on crack?" Gina wanted to know. "Simon, the thing's only got one ear."
Suddenly, the large, gilt-framed mirror above the dressing table started to shake. It had a tendency to do this whenever Jesse got annoyed - really annoyed.
Gina, not knowing this, stared at the mirror with growing excitement. "Hey!" she cried. "All right! Another one!"
She meant an earthquake, of course, but this, like the one before, was no earthquake. It was just Jesse letting off steam.
Then the next thing I knew, a bottle of finger-nail polish Gina had left on the dressing table went flying and, defying all gravitational law, landed upside down in the suitcase she had placed on the floor at the end of the daybed, around seven or eight feet away.
I probably don't need to add that the bottle of polish - it was emerald green - was uncapped. And that it ended up on top of the clothes Gina hadn't unpacked yet.
Gina let out a terrified shriek, threw back the comforter, and dove to the floor, trying to salvage what she could. I, meanwhile, threw Jesse a very dirty look.
But all he said was, "Don' #Quote by Meg Cabot

#42. I don't know what this nice guy routine is, but I know who you are and why you're here so if you think you can seduce me for whatever reason, you're out of your mind. And you better not think you can try that crap with Shea, I will claw you to ribbons."
His emerald eyes darkened until they were practically black. He leaned closer until he was inches from her ear. She tried to ignore his earthy scent but found it impossible with his hot breath against her neck. "I do want to fuck you, long and hard, but not for any other reason that I want you. For the record, I haven't been with a woman - wolf or human - in over two decades. #Quote by Savannah Stuart

#43. A Creator is vision-focused and passion-motivated. To really live into your Creator self, you are called to do the inner work necessary to find your own sense of purpose-whatever touches your heart and holds meaning for you. #Quote by David Emerald Womeldorff

#44. I have never battled a gargoyle before." Zacharel shook his head, a dark lock of hair tumbling into one emerald eye. Damp from the melting snow, the hair stuck to his skin. He didn't seem to notice. "But I am certain these will murder Paris before willingly carrying him inside."
As if he were the only intelligent life form left in existence, William splayed his arms. "And the problem with that? He'll still be inside, exactly where he wants to be. And by the way," he added, blinking at Paris with lashes so long they should have belonged to a girl. "Your new permanent eyeliner is very pretty. You'll make a good-looking corpse."
Do not react. He did, and the teasing about his ash/ambrosia tattoos would never end. "Thanks."
"I prefer the lip liner, though. A nice little feminine touch that really makes your eyes pop."
"Again, thanks," he gritted.
He wants us!
Stupid demon.
William grinned. "Maybe we can make out later. I know you want me."
Tell him yes!
Not another word out of you, or -
"Paris? Warrior?" Zacharel said. "Are you
listening to me?"
"No."
Zach nodded, apparently not the least offended. "I enjoy your honesty, though I believe you suffer from what the humans call ADD."
"Oh, yeah. I definitely have attention deficient demon. #Quote by Gena Showalter

#45. Girl of Emerald, no man can tame. Burn down the world, consumed by flames. #Quote by Betsy Schow

#46. He swabbed his face with his tie. Soon, the sun burned off the fog and hoisted itself in the sky. 'Horses, it's hotter than two rats fucking in a wool sock. I tell you that much.'
He took another little drink. Bottle-flies turned their emerald backs in the sun. Young monarchs gathered to tongue the green horseshit and clap their wings. #Quote by Matthew Neill Null

#47. Frozen in fear, you avoid responsibility because you think your experience is beyond your control. This stance keeps you from making decisions, solving problems, or going after what you want in life. #Quote by David Emerald Womeldorff

#48. There were some that were of so rare a beauty that my pleasure on catching sight of them was enhanced by surprise. By what privilege, on one morning rather than another, did the window on being uncurtained disclose to my wondering eyes the nymph Glauconome, whose lazy beauty, gently breathing, had the transparence of a vaporous emerald beneath whose surface I could see teeming the ponderable elements that coloured it? She made the sun join in her play, with a smile rendered languorous by an invisible haze which was nought but a space kept vacant about her translucent surface, which, thus curtailed, became more appealing, like those goddesses whom the sculptor carves in relief upon a block of marble, the rest of which he leaves unchiselled. So, in her matchless colour, she invited us out over those rough terrestrial roads, from which, seated beside Mme. de Villeparisis in her barouche, we should see, all day long and without ever reaching it, the coolness of her gentle palpitation. #Quote by Marcel Proust

#49. Slowly, fresh sunbeams poured into the emerald canyon, illuminating their narrow path between the rusted rails. Because of the din of the waking jungle, they did not hear the sound of several feet sliding down the tapered trunks of the giant lauan trees towering several hundred feet above their heads and silently scampering into the undergrowth. #Quote by John D. Lukacs

#50. She stood at the edge of a glassy river lined with impossibly tall trees, fanning out their wide emerald leaves among the puffy white clouds. Across the river, a row of crystal castles glittered in the sunlight in a way that would make Walt Disney want to throw rocks at his "Magic Kingdom." To her right, a golden path led into a sprawling city, where the elaborate domed buildings seemed to be built from brick-size jewels - each structure a different color. Snowcapped mountains surrounded the lush valley, and the crisp, cool air smelled like cinnamon and chocolate and sunshine. #Quote by Shannon Messenger

#51. As above, so below. As within, so without. - The Emerald Tablet, circa 3000 BC #Quote by Rhonda Byrne

#52. Birds danced in an emerald sky. #Quote by Jesse R. Page

#53. We'll meet again in the evening," said Gupta.
"Anything else I should know before you leave?"
Gupta grinned. "Amar is terrible at flattery."
I smiled, but I couldn't help but wonder who had been the last person he had attempted to flatter. The thought bothered me.
"I was never wooed by courtly speech anyway."
As Gupta closed the door behind him I heard a soft laugh by my side.
"Is that so?"
Amar.
I turned to face him, my gaze tracing the emerald robes that matched my sari perfectly. Like yesterday, he wore a hood that left only the lower half of his face in view. I looked at him, and even if it was only a moment, he eclipsed the staggering pull of the tapestry. #Quote by Roshani Chokshi

#54. She dreamed of Venice. However, it wasn't a city alive with stars dripping like liquid gold into canals, or Bougainvillea spilling from flowerpots like overfilled glasses of wine. In this dream, Venice was without color. Where pastel palazzi once lined emerald lagoons, now, gray, shadowy mounds of rubble paralleled murky canals. Lovers could no longer share a kiss under the Bridge of Sighs; it had been the target of an obsessive Allied bomb in search of German troops. The only sign of life was in Piazza San Marco, where the infamous pigeons continued to feed. However, these pigeons fed not on seeds handed out by children, but on corpses rotting under the elongated shadow of the Campanile. #Quote by Pamela Allegretto

#55. Symbolically, emerald brings a sense of clarity, renewal, and rejuvenation, which is so important in today's complex world. #Quote by Leatrice Eiseman

#56. An ordinary beginning, something that would have been forgotten had it been anyone but her. But as he shook her hand and met those striking emerald eyes, he knew before he'd taken his next breath that she was the one he could spend the rest of his life looking for but never find again. She seemed that good, that perfect, while a summer wind blew through the trees. #Quote by Nicholas Sparks

#57. She wore a tan robe and headscarf, the clothes of a local... but didn't feel like a market regular. She moved slowly and gazed at everything with a child's wonder. Her eyes were large and clear, her hair as black as midnight. She had a warm smile on her pretty lips and was obviously murmuring 'hellos' and 'excuse mes' to people who really didn't care or want to talk. She walked with the grace of a cloud in the wind, like her body weighed nothing at all, and held her head high with easy dignity. Easy.
Aladdin felt his heart contract. He had never seen her- or anyone like her- before.
When the girl adjusted her scarf, she revealed an intricate diadem in her hair that had a ridiculously sized emerald in it.
'Ah, a rich girl, out for a day of shopping in the market without her servants. Living dangerously, playing hooky. #Quote by Liz Braswell

#58. I will always know that the grass, though it seems emerald and glowing in that field on the other side - it isn't. Flowers grow here. They grow over there. Weeds do, too. But both are wide, and they're open. And I can lie and cry in one and move and spin in the other, all while knowing this: they're the same field. And they're both mine. #Quote by Andie Mitchell

#59. Our family became spelled after my ancestor pixed off two evil witch sisters. The witches' curse was supposed to doom my great- great- great grandmother to turn evil and torch the world - except the spell wasn't worded right. It didn't spec-ify which Emerald princess. So ever since, all the girls in the Emerald family have been stuck inside, since there's no way to know what generation will inherit the curse. #Quote by Betsy Schow

#60. My brother, are you aware that you are presently taking the form of a rather large and distinctly emerald-hued bear? Not that it isn't an improvement on your usual excessive good lucks, but... #Quote by Deborah Blake

#61. Made up of the glories of the most precious gems, to describe them is a matter of inexpressible difficulty. For there is amongst them the gentler fire of the ruby, there is the rich purple of the amethyst, there is the sea-green of the emerald, and all shining together in an indescribable union. Others, by an excessive heightening of their hues equal all the colours of the painter, others the flame of burning brimstone, or of a fire quickened by oil. #Quote by Pliny The Elder

#62. As my skin touched his, I saw his face, and I felt electricity shooting through my body. His eyes were the first thing I noticed: They were emerald green with flecks of something I couldn't even describe to myself, and they seemed to be glowing, almost floating in front of his face. There was something about them that seemed almost alien. Was #Quote by Danielle Paige

#63. The newly formed Council all rose to their feet as I entered the room, but I immediately raised my hands. "Oh, God, please don't do that. I'm freaked out enough as it is."
One of the faeries, a huge man with emerald green wings, frowned at me. "But as heir presumptive to the Head of the Council, you're afforded a certain degree of respect."
"I can feel respected with you all sitting down. Honestly. #Quote by Rachel Hawkins

#64. Just a taste. That was the Cambion policy, our credo. 'Just take enough to appease the spirit, then move on.' It sounded simple enough, but sometimes taking a little was worse than taking none at all. #Quote by Jaime Reed

#65. Other tokens of maturity included a velvet choker of tiny pearls, the ginger tresses gathered at the nape and secured with an emerald clasp, three loose silver bracelets around a freckled wrist, and the fact that whenever she moved, the air about her tasted of rose water. #Quote by Ian McEwan

#66. Fairies were different. In the winding mountain paths and emerald-topped forests of Feyland, there were so many magical creatures. #Quote by Kailin Gow

#67. I stepped inside the front hall and kicked off my snow boots. I slammed the door behind me, making the dark ruby and emerald glass shake in the small leaded panes. I slid purposely on the hall rug, causing it to bunch and crinkle on the slippery polished oak of the floor. #Quote by Margaret Laurence

#68. The rich rock-star Lothario bullshit drops with a thud, and an air of truth fills the empty space between us. He pins me with those gorgeous emerald eyes. "I dig you, Letty. #Quote by Kendall Grey

#69. As they passed the rows of houses they saw through the open doors that men were sweeping and dusting and washing dishes, while the women sat around in groups, gossiping and laughing.
What has happened?' the Scarecrow asked a sad-looking man with a bushy beard, who wore an apron and was wheeling a baby carriage along the sidewalk.
Why, we've had a revolution, your Majesty
as you ought to know very well,' replied the man; 'and since you went away the women have been running things to suit themselves. I'm glad you have decided to come back and restore order, for doing housework and minding the children is wearing out the strength of every man in the Emerald City.'
Hm!' said the Scarecrow, thoughtfully. 'If it is such hard work as you say, how did the women manage it so easily?'
I really do not know,' replied the man, with a deep sigh. 'Perhaps the women are made of cast-iron. #Quote by L. Frank Baum

#70. There is in them a softer fire than the ruby, there is the brilliant purple of the amethyst, and the sea green of the emerald - all shining together in incredible union. Some by their splendor rival the colors of the painters, others the flame of burning sulphur or of fire quickened by oil. #Quote by Pliny The Elder

#71. This isn't a game we're playing between ourselves," he continued. "Don't pretend that it is."
"Isn't it?" A challenge flared in her eyes, like fire inside the purest emerald. "Don't lie to me, John. Don't pretend it's any more than it really is. It's a job. One we're both determined to complete, nothing more."
"Like hell. #Quote by Lora Leigh

#72. He gripped her wrist before it could continue its progress, senses too over loaded to withstand more. Though for some unknown reason, rather than pushing it away he did little more than halt its progress, trapping it between his heart and hand. Her eyes flew upward to meet his, surprise and curiosity in their emerald depths.

He lost himself in those eyes. #Quote by Amy Cook

#73. My gaze slid across every face and stopped abruptly when I saw an Angelic faced woman who appeared to be in her early 20s. She had waist length hair as black as night.
And eyes that were emerald green with a gold tint to them. When her gaze met mine, she screamed and fell to her knees her gaze never leaving mine. I didn't realize that I too was on my knees until Mark bend down asking if I was alright. I didn't answer him, because I didn't know for all I knew I was in heaven looking into an Angel's eyes.

- Matthew Michaelson #Quote by Katerina Chenevert

#74. The storm was resting. It didn't want to be, but it was. It had spent a fortnight understudying a famous anticyclone over the Circle Sea, turning up every day, hanging around in the cold front, grateful for a chance to uproot the occasional tree or whirl a farmhouse to any available emerald city of its choice. But the big break in the weather had never come. #Quote by Terry Pratchett

#75. your window.' There was a click and a buzz and he pushed the door open. Dave walked through the doorway into a huge entrance hall. The light in the hall dimmed as the door closed behind him. A deep emerald green carpet engulfed the floor where he stood, and a distinctive #Quote by Victoria Browne

#76. Some will say that searching for your dreams is like looking for unicorns in an emerald forest. #Quote by Fennel Hudson

#77. I wanted to be in 'The Emerald Forest.' I chased that one for six months before it all came about. I wanted to work with John Boorman! #Quote by Powers Boothe

#78. What's your favorite color?"
"Blue."
She rolled her eyes. "Boring. Mine's gold-or turquoise. Or emerald."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?"
"Because you aren't as stupid as you look." I didn't know whether to be insulted or flattered. She didn't give me time to decide. #Quote by Shelby Mahurin

#79. It is to geometry that we owe in some sort the source of this discovery [of beryllium]; it is that [science] that furnished the first idea of it, and we may say that without it the knowledge of this new earth would not have been acquired for a long time, since according to the analysis of the emerald by M. Klaproth and that of the beryl by M. Bindheim one would not have thought it possible to recommence this work without the strong analogies or even almost perfect identity that Citizen Haüy found for the geometrical properties between these two stony fossils. #Quote by Antoine-François Fourcroy

#80. If making a doppelganger using the priests' emerald powder, the dulcimer should be played during the mixing; otherwise, your monster may coalesce with a vestigial tale or tail. It is also known that playing the dulcimer after dinner increases the chance of pleasant conversation, if accompanied by wine and a nice dessert. #Quote by Jeff VanderMeer

#81. SONG OF SUNSET ON THE RIVER

A strip of water's spread in the setting sun,
Half the river's emerald, half is red.
I love the third night of the ninth month,
The dew is like pearl; the moon like a bow. #Quote by Bai Juyi

#82. The Glass Cat is one of the most curious creatures in all Oz. It was made by a famous magician named Dr. Pipt before Ozma had forbidden her subjects to work magic. Dr. Pipt had made the Glass Cat to catch mice, but the Cat refused to catch mice and was considered more curious than useful.
This astonishing cat was made all of glass and was so clear and transparent that you could see through it as easily as through a window. In the top of its head, however, was a mass of delicate pink balls which looked like jewels but were intended for brains. It had a heart made of a blood-red ruby. The eyes were two large emeralds. But, aside from these colors, all the rest of the animal was of clear glass, and it had a spun-glass tail that was really beautiful. #Quote by L. Frank Baum

#83. Cobalt is a divine color and there is nothing as fine for putting an atmosphere round things. Carmine is the red of wine and is warm and lively like wine. The same goes for emerald green too. It's false economy to dispense with them, with those colors. Cadmium as well. #Quote by Vincent Van Gogh

#84. In some African tribes, this would make us married," a dry male voice returned. Angel looked up. His arms reflexively gripping her waist, a tall, lean man with windswept black hair looked down at her with amused emerald eyes. "In others, it would mean we're being prepared for supper #Quote by Suzanne Enoch

#85. He lounged on his side, bare-chested and barefooted, his jeans unbuttoned to show both the waistband of his underwear and the sleek lines of his ripped abs. His dark brown hair was sexily mussed and his emerald eyes were bright with mischief. #Quote by Sylvia Day

#86. Then, abrupt and decisive, the Emerald City rose before them. A city of insistence, of blanket declaration. It made no sense, clotting up the horizon, sprouting like a mirage on the characterless plains of central Oz. Glinda hated it from the moment she saw it. Brash upstart of a city. #Quote by Gregory Maguire

#87. Soon some of the plants were as big as fruit trees. There were fans of long emerald-green leaves, flowers resembling peacock tails with rainbow-colored eyes, pagodas consisting of sumperimposed unbrellas of violet silk. Thick stems were interwoven like braids. Since they were transparent, they looked like pink glass lit up from within. Some of the blooms looked like clusters of blue and yellow Japanese lanterns. And little by little, as the luminous night growths grew denser, they intertwined to form a tissue of soft light. #Quote by Michael Ende

#88. Coast with us, Emerald Eyes? #Quote by Jay McLean

#89. The focus in the Creator Orientation is on a Vision or an Outcome. You orient your thoughts and actions toward creating what you most deeply want to see or experience in life. #Quote by David Emerald Womeldorff

#90. As I write these lines I lift my eyes and look seaward. I am on the beach of Waikiki on the island of Oahu. Far, in the azure sky, the trade-wind clouds drift low over the blue-green turquoise of the deep sea. Nearer, the sea is emerald and light olive-green. Then comes the reef, where the water is all slaty purple flecked with red. Still nearer are brighter greens and tans, lying in alternate stripes and showing where sandbeds lie between the living coral banks. Through and over and out of these wonderful colours tumbles and thunders a magnificent surf. #Quote by Jack London

#91. He looks immaculate.
Flawless, especially as he stands here among the dirt and destruction, surrounded by the bleakest colors this landscape has to offer. He's a vision of emerald and onyx, silhouetted in the sunlight in the most deceiving way. He could be glowing. That could be a halo around his head. This could be the world's way of making an example out of irony. Because Warner is beautiful in ways even Adam isn't. #Quote by Tahereh Mafi

#92. Not even the Emerald Isle itself was as green as the grass that grew in Ebbets Field. #Quote by Duke Snider

#93. Lass.' Saga turned away to hide her smile. How like a fairy tale, that word. Rapunzel. A tall tower by a deep emerald lake. A dark green word, 'lass.'
As she turned, she saw the bookcase beside the armchair- right out there in the garden! It was filled with with paperback books that looked as if they'd been read about a hundred times each. She saw Pride and Prejudice, she saw Middlemarch and The Quiet American. Titles she had seen forever on the shelves in Uncle Marsden's house.
"What if it rains when you're not looking?"
"These are the books everyone likes to read again and again, books you can lose because they'll reappear the minute you turn your back. They replace themselves," he said. Saga pictured this man with the dashing accent as the rescuer of Rapunzel. It was't outrageous in the least. He was handsome enough, though neither tall nor dark. His skin and hair were faintly golden, or they had been once upon a time, and his hands were long and slim like the hands of a prince. Piano hands, Aunt Liz would have said. #Quote by Julia Glass

#94. Does the emerald lose its beauty for lack of admiration? #Quote by Marcus Aurelius

#95. Today I sat before the cliff Until the mist and rainbows disappeared I followed the emerald stream Explored a thousand tiers of green cliffs In the morning my spirit rests among white clouds At night a bright moon floats in the sky I am free of the busy world There is not a doubt in my heart or a worry to disturb my mind #Quote by Hanshan

#96. That was when I saw the first flash of emerald, then another of blue, then yellow, glimpsed out of the corner of my eye. Not dragonflies. Not butterflies. Something else. Something moving among a cluster of harebells, the delicate white flowers nodding as their petals and leaves were disturbed by the slightest of movements, like a gentle breeze blowing against them and yet there wasn't the slightest breath of wind at the beck that day. #Quote by Hazel Gaynor

#97. Geeks are not the world's rowdiest people. We're quiet and introspective, and usually more comfortable communing with our keyboards or a good book than each other. Our idea of how to paint the
Emerald City red involves light liquor, heavy munchies, and marathon sessions of video games of the 'giant robots shooting each other and everything else in sight' variety. We debate competing lines of software or gaming consoles with passion, and dissect every movie, television show, and novel in the science fiction, fantasy, and horror genres.

With as many of us as there are in this town, people inevitably find ways to cater to us when we get in the mood to spend our hard-earned dollars. Downtown Seattle boasts grandiose geek magnets, like the Experience Music Project and the Experience Science Fiction museum, but it has much humbler and far more obscure attractions too, like the place we all went to for our ship party that evening: a hole-in-the-wall bar called the Electric Penguin on Capitol Hill. #Quote by Angela Korra'ti

#98. . . . They had skies of pure azure and walls of fog moving in and out of the canyons with invisible feet, hills in winter of emerald green and in summer mountain upon mountain of pure gold. They had even more, for there was ever the unfathomable silence of the forest, the blazing immensity of the Pacific, days drenched with sun and nights spangled with stars. . . #Quote by Henry Miller

#99. Everything in any way beautiful has its beauty of itself, inherent and self-sufficient: praise is no part of it. At any rate, praise does not make anything better or worse. This applies even to the popular conception of beauty, as in material things or works of art. So does the truly beautiful need anything beyond itself? No more than law, no more than truth, no more than kindness or integrity. Which of these things derives its beauty from praise, or withers under criticism? Does an emerald lose its quality if it is not praised? And what of gold, ivory, purple, a lyre, a dagger, a flower, a bush? #Quote by Marcus Aurelius

#100. I love eye makeup. I really like doing a cat eye, playing with liquid liners and different colors of liners, like emerald and deep blues, combining them with black. #Quote by Olivia Wilde

#101. Colors sluiced the air with fugal patterns as a shape subsumed the breeze and fell, to form further on, a brighter emerald, a duller amethyst. Odors flushed the wind with vinegar, snow, ocean, ginger, poppies, rum. Autumn, ocean, ginger, ocean, autumn; ocean, ocean, the surge of ocean again, while light foamed in the dimming blue that underlit the Mouse's face. Electric arpeggios of a neo-raga rilled. #Quote by Samuel R. Delany

#102. But if this is the sun, if this is absolutely the same as our sun," I cried out, "then where is the earth?" And my companion pointed to the little star that shone in the darkness with an emerald brilliance. We were rushing straight toward her. "And are such replicas really possible in the universe, is that really the law of nature? ... And if that is the earth there, is it really the same as our earth ... absolutely the same, unfortunate, poor, but dear and eternally beloved, giving birth to the same tormenting love for herself even in her most ungrateful children? ... " I cried out, shaking with irrepressible, rapturous love for that former native earth I had abandoned. #Quote by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

#103. She pushed him away from her. The rain swept over her face as she lifted her emerald eyes filled with laughter to his. "That's it? That's your big apology? I can see you're not going to be a candy-and-flowers man." She set off quickly. "Don't talk to me, you uncivilized maniac. I don't even want to hear the sound of your voice."
Jacques forced back the smile that seemed so ready to curve his hard mouth. Shea had a way of making even dangerous situations seem a game where laughter was always close at hand. She managed to find ways to make his madness, the terrible, unforgivable way he had treated her at their first meeting, seem casual. "Can I put my arm around you?" Even while his eyes scanned, they held a gleam of merriment.
"You're talking. I said don't talk to me." Shea tried sticking her nose in the air, but it felt ridiculous, and she dissolved into undignified giggles.
His arm curved around her slender waist and locked her under his shoulder. "I am sorry. I did not mean to speak when you asked me not to. Turn here. I'm going to have to carry you up."
"Don't talk. You always get your way when you talk." She walked with him a few more yards and stopped, staring up a sheer cliff face that seemed to go up forever. There had been no division between the forest and the rock face to warn her. "Up what? Not that." The dark, malevolent feeling had faded away. Whoever it was no longer was watching them. She could tell.
"I feel another argument coming on." #Quote by Christine Feehan

#104. How does the biological wetware of the brain give rise to our experience: the sight of emerald green, the taste of cinnamon, the smell of wet soil? What if I told you that the world around you, with its rich colors, textures, sounds, and scents is an illusion, a show put on for you by your brain? If you could perceive reality as it really is, you would be shocked by its colorless, odorless, tasteless silence. Outside your brain, there is just energy and matter. Over millions of years of evolution the human brain has become adept at turning this energy and matter into a rich sensory experience of being in the world. #Quote by David Eagleman

#105. I am the Constellation of my own #Quote by Artist Emerald

#106. My geography savors a delicious paradox: Home - a grounding - found in unearthly beauty. The predominant colors are blue, emerald, and terra-cotta. Every day, every season, I taste these colors and the intricate flavors of their unaccountable tones and hues. I have yet to earn this land. Perhaps I never will. Home is a religion. Sensibly you understand the need for it, yet not even sensible people can explain it. - from the Chapter Finding Home #Quote by Ellen Meloy

#107. The Redwood Tree

My father once told me a story about an old redwood tree - how she stood tall and proud - her sprawling limbs clothed in emerald green. With a smile, he described her as a mere sapling, sheltered by her elders and basking in the safety of the warm, dappled light. But as this tree grew taller, she found herself at the mercy of the cruel wind and the vicious rain. Together, they tore relentlessly at her pretty boughs, until she felt as though her heart would split in two.

After a long, thoughtful pause, my father turned to me and said, "My daughter, one day the same thing will happen to you. And when that time comes, remember the redwood tree. Do not worry about the cruel wind or the vicious rain - but do as that tree did and just keep growing. #Quote by Lang Leav

#108. Your life is a kind of laboratory where you're constantly experimenting with your own higher knowing, always increasing your capacity to design the life you choose. Human beings must create; it's hardwired. The question is, are you consciously creating or only sleepwalking through your human life? #Quote by David Emerald Womeldorff

#109. My senses flood with feeling, so intense, and then I'm cradled in warmth. The heat stems from my hand and spreads through my body. I look down and lace my fingers through his.
He strokes my jawline, lifting my face to meet his emerald eyes-clear and vibrant-like time never passed between us. "You're home," he says, his voice stirring all my love.
"You're my home. #Quote by Trisha Wolfe

#110. To be certain you're consuming the real deal, look carefully at the label. W-h-i-s-k-e-y indicates the heavenly liquid from the Emerald Isle. Without the "e," it's from Scotland or some other godforsaken place. #Quote by Rashers Tierney

#111. This Sarah Perez had the most beautiful eyes in the world, those green eyes spangled with gold that you love so much: the eyes of Antinous. In Rome, such eyes would have made her a concubine of Adrian; in Madrid they helped her become the princess of Eboli ensconced in the bed of the king. But Philip II was extremely jealous of those wonderful emerald eyes and their delicate transparency, and the princess - who was bored with the funereal palace and the even more funereal society of the king - had the fancy and the misfortune to cast her admirable gaze upon the Marquis de Posa while she was leaving church one day. It was on the threshold of the chapel, and the princess believed herself to be alone with her camarera mayor, but the vigilance of the clergy was equal to the challenge. She was betrayed, and that very evening, in the intimacy of their bedroom, in the course of some violent argument or tempestuous tussle, Philip threw his mistress to the floor. Blind with rage he leapt upon her, tore out her eye and devoured it in a single gulp.

'Thus was the princess covered in blood - a good title for a conte cruel, that, which Villiers de l'Isle Adam has somehow omitted to write! The princess was henceforth one-eyed: the royal pet had a gaping hole in her face. Philip II, who had the Jewess in his blood, could not cleave so closely to a princess who had only one eye. He made amends to her with some new titles and estates in the provinces and - regretful of the beautifu #Quote by Jean Lorrain

#112. Emerald leaves crossed our paths
with veracity marked in golden drafts,
somewhere deep amid the pending vapours
of humility and dance,
did we dance across the skies? #Quote by Phen Weston

#113. The calculated violence of a shark grew in her, and like every witch that ever rode a broom straight through the night to a ceremonial infanticide as thrilled by the black wind as by the rod between her legs; like every fed-up-to-the-teeth bride who worried about the consistency of the grits she threw at her husband as well as the potency of the lye she had stirred into them; and like every queen and every courtesan who was struck by the beauty of her emerald ring as she tipped its poison into the old red wine, Hagar was energized by the details of her mission. #Quote by Toni Morrison

#114. I learned about the sacred art of self decoration with the monarch butterflies perched atop my head, lightning bugs as my night jewelry, and emerald-green frogs as bracelets. #Quote by Clarissa Pinkola Estes

#115. They'll sell you thousands of greens. Veronese green and emerald green and cadmium green and any sort of green you like; but that particular green, never. #Quote by Pablo Picasso

#116. This had to be the most curious situation in all of her life. Not that she had a great deal to compare it to, of course, living, as she had, quite a sheltered existence. But if anyone had ever had a friend quite like Periapt, she had yet to read about it.
The most peculiar thing was the feeling, the conviction, that here was someone she had been looking for as a friend and companion her entire life.
When they were talking and she wasn't actually looking at him- in the dark, say, when they would go up to the top of the tower to rest their eyes and look at the stars- she never, ever even thought about the fact that he was a dragon. In fact, if she was reading a book with him and he would say something aloud, she would get a kind of shock to her system when she looked up and saw, not a person, but a huge, dusky-emerald dragon head.
The shock was getting worse, too, not better, every time she looked up and didn't see the studious young man she expected to see. #Quote by Mercedes Lackey

#117. The woman with hair of flames knelt over me. She might have been pretty if not for the anger in every corner of her face. Emerald eyes glowed with almost seeping venom as her nostrils flared.
- Lord Tristan Dracanburh, Ethandun #Quote by Alexandra May

#118. Jesse, you're not going to lose me. I had the situation totally under control." Sort of. "But I have to say that after so many years of you keeping your feelings for me hidden out of propriety, it's really nice to hear you say all those things. Plus, it's emotionally healthy that you're letting them out this way. Keep unburdening yourself." I wrapped my arms around his neck. "What is it exactly, that you find so irresistible about me? Is it my magnetic personality? Or my emerald green eyes? Or maybe it's just my hot bod?" I felt something against my torso. "Oh, I'm getting the impression that it's my hot bod. #Quote by Meg Cabot

#119. His gaze, lowered toward the ground, slowly, leisurely drifts up, until it slams into mine with the heavy force of steel against steel. The green is back, emerald flames dancing behind clouds of black and grey. And with just that single look, his head slightly dipped, I know . . . Here, right now, I'm the one with all the power. #Quote by T.L. Martin

#120. Madeline stood before him in a gown of rich, emerald-green silk. The low-cut bodice did miraculous things for her bosom, and the vibrant color made a striking contrast with her pale skin and dark hair. And her lips... something about the green brought out their richness. They looked like two lush slices of a ripened plum.
His mouth watered. #Quote by Tessa Dare

#121. Every Victim requires a Persecutor. But the Persecutor isn't always necessarily a person. The Persecutor could also be a condition or a circumstance. A persecuting condition might be a disease or a heart attack, or an injury. A persecuting circumstance could be a natural disaster, like a hurricane or an earthquake or a house burning down. #Quote by David Emerald Womeldorff

#122. This may be crazy, but what the hell, right?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box, and Bridget felt faint as he cracked it open. An emerald set in a silver band winked up at her. "I love you, Bridget. I'm pretty sure you feel the same way about me, and screw the whole dating thing. Let's get married. #Quote by J. Lynn

#123. Some of the steps you take may end up being detours or out-and-out mistakes. By staying focused on your vision, though, you'll find even those steps useful in the creating process. #Quote by David Emerald Womeldorff

#124. The next morning dawned cool and clear. The early mist had lifted, leaving a thick layer of dew clinging to the hillsides beyond the castle, shimmering in the morning sun like faerie dust sprinkled over a lush bed of emerald.
Like his eyes. #Quote by Monica McCarty

#125. The quality of Venice that accomplishes what religion so often cannot is that Venice has made peace with the waters. It is not merely pleasant that the sea flows through, grasping the city like tendrils of vine, and, depending upon the light, making alleys and avenues of emerald and sapphire, Citi s a brave acceptance of dissolution and an unflinching settlement with death. Though in Venice you may sit in courtyards of stone, and your heels may click up marble stairs, you cannot move without riding upon or crossing the waters that someday will carry you in dissolution to the sea. #Quote by Mark Helprin

#126. The prose poem Walk The Red Road is great stuff and deserves to be read aloud. It compares quite favorably to The Walls Of Emerald by Li Chiang Yen, a Chinese poet of the late Tang period. #Quote by Brian Aldiss

#127. The first pair Opal and Amber are,
Agate sings in B flat, the wolf avatar,
A duet-solutio! - with Aquamarine.
Mighty Emerald next, with the lovely Citrine.
Number Eight is digestio, her stand is Jade fine.
E major's the key of the Black Tourmaline,
Sapphire sings in F major, and bright is her sheen.
Then almost at once comes Diamond alone,
Whose sign of the lion as Leo is known.
Projectio! Time flows on, both present and past.
Ruby red is the first and is also the last. #Quote by Kerstin Gier

#128. As he tried to suppress a laugh, Nick choked, then raised his napkin to his mouth. But his eyes danced with emerald glee, and Elizabeth knew the napkin hid a grin. #Quote by Debra Holland

#129. It is strange how deeply colors seem to penetrate one, like scent. I suppose that is the reason why gems are used as spiritual emblems in the Revelation of St John. They look like fragments of heaven. I think the emerald is more beautiful than any of them. #Quote by George Eliot

#130. Only you and I can help the sun rise each coming morning. If we don't, it may drench itself out in sorrow.
You special, miraculous, unrepeatable, fragile, fearful, tender, lost, sparkling ruby emerald jewel, rainbow splendor person. It's up to you. #Quote by Joan Baez

#131. Theo cast his emerald eyes back to the girl at the order window. He could hardly breathe. Her radiance was as inescapable as the sun. Love is never stronger than the love in the young. There, love is unreasonable and preposterous and beautiful. Theo did not realize it at the time, but his young self was dying inside to the man he would become. #Quote by Steven James Taylor

#132. I climbed a path and from the top looked up-stream towards Chile. I could see the river, glinting and sliding through the bone-white cliffs with strips of emerald cultivation either side. Away from the cliffs was the desert. There was no sound but the wind, whirring through thorns and whistling through dead grass, and no other sign of life but a hawk, and a black beetle easing over white stones. #Quote by Bruce Chatwin

#133. He goes directly to the ballroom, making his way to the center of the dance floor. He takes Celia's arm, spinning her away from Herr Thiessen.
Marco pulls her to him in an emerald embrace, so close that no one distinction remains between where his suite ends and her gown begins. To Celia there is suddenly no one else in the room as he holds her in his arms. But before she can vocalize her surprise, his lips close over hers and she is lost in wordless bliss.
Marco kisses her as though they are the only two people in the world. The air swirls in a tempest around them, blowing open the glass doors to the garden with a tangle of billowing curtains. Every eye in the ballroom turns in their direction. And then he releases her and walks away. By the time Marco leaves the room, almost everyone has forgotten the incident entirely. It is replaced by a momentary confusion that is blamed on the heat or the excessive amounts of champagne. Herr Thiessen cannot recall why Celia has suddenly stopped dancing, or when her gown has shifted to its current deep green. "Is something wrong?" he asks, when he realizes that she is trembling. #Quote by Erin Morgenstern

#134. RYLAN!"
I feel Ivy's palm on my chest and, with a powerful shove, she pushes me back, away from fire, danger, and death.
In that moment after the tree plunges, I see Ivy for a single second as I fall. In those emerald eyes is a look of complete calm, undying gratitude, and powerful, protective love.
The tree crashes down, the sound echoing in my head.
For an eternal moment, I sit there on my butt, staring at the spot where Ivy was standing. I'm numb, only registering the slightest changes; the wind dying down, the rain lessening.
What just happened?
Desperately, I look side to side, praying that Ivy jumped to the side and what I saw was just an illusion made up by my panicked mind.
But Ivy's nowhere. And there's an arm sticking out from under the trunk.
"IVY!"
I sprint to the fallen tree. The smoldering wood stings my hand when I grab the trunk, but I grit my teeth and bear it. Pulling with all my might, I throw the remains of the tree aside.
Ivy's lying there, her eyes closed and her lower half on fire.
"No..." I fall to my knees and yank off my sweatshirt to try and smother the flames, but they burn strong, and soon the fabric's on fire. I toss it away, not knowing where it lands as I'm unable to tear my eyes off the most gut-wrenching sight of my life. My hands go to my head and my shouting grows even louder. "No, no, no!"
This can't be happening. She can't be - #Quote by Colleen Boyd

#135. I opened the door and stepped down onto something squishy. It was moss, velvety smooth, creating uneven hills of emerald green across the floor of the laundry. I slipped off my silver ballet flats, and my feet sank into the floor
#Quote by Margot Berwin

#136. And when you smile…my grandmother calls them big-soul smiles. She says some people have souls so big that they spread out, touching everyone they pass." Emerald wipes her wet face again. "There are different ways to help people, Adam. There are different ways to do good. #Quote by Robin Roe

#137. You just couldn't wait to get me naked, could you, Princess?" Loki asked tiredly. I started to pull my hand back, but he put his own hand over it, keeping it in place.
"No, I - I was checking for wounds," I stumbled. I wouldn't meet his gaze.
"I'm sure." He moved his thumb, almost caressing my hand, until it hit my ring. "What's that?" He tried to sit up to see it, so I lifted my hand, showing him the emerald-encrusted oval on my finger. "Is that a wedding ring?"
"No, engagement." I lowered my hand, resting it on the bed next to him. "I'm not married yet."
"I'm not too late, then." He smiled and settled back in the bed.
"Too late for what?" I asked.
"To stop you, of course." Still smiling, he closed his eyes. #Quote by Amanda Hocking

#138. The whole place smells of dried flowers and burnt egg, and there isn't a nail or picture hook in the entire hotel that doesn't have a few dusty sprigs of old Christmas tinsel caught on it all year round. #Quote by Emerald Fennell

#139. You need to get home, both of you. Louis, I'd like to keep the letters here, if you don't mind. I want to go over them again."
I came to my feet. "And ask the stars about them?"
Jesse nodded. Armand only shook his head, gloomy. There were bruises under his eyes that hadn't been there yesterday.
"Ask the-fine. Splendid. Keep them if you like. Burn them. Turn them to gold or silver or lead. In the morning I'll wake up and none of this will have happened."
"No, lordling," I said to him. "You're never going to wake like that again, and you're never going to be able to forget."
"Bugger you, waif."
"And you."
He walked past both of us without another glance or another word, opened the door, and disappeared into the night.
I went to Jesse and wrapped my arms around him. After only a second's hesitation, his arms lifted to embrace me, too.
"I don't want to go," I whispered.
I felt his chest expand beneath my cheek. "This is going to be much more difficult than I anticipated."
"Which part?"
"All of it." He brought a hand to my hair, his fingers weaving through. "Things are about to change rapidly now, Lora. He'll come back to us stronger and stronger. He's going to crave you more and more, and not having you will eat him raw."
I frowned up at him. "What do you mean?"
Jesse tucked a strand behind my ear, his eyes emerald dark, his lashes tipped with candlelight. "It will be in his nature. He'll feel compelled to cla #Quote by Shana Abe

#140. These people are often authoritarian and rigid in their views, exerting power over others in an effort to keep others from having power over them. Persecutors may act grandiose and self-righteous to mask their own insecurity. #Quote by David Emerald Womeldorff

#141. There's something I have learned from what I've lived:
lf you're to live something, live it to its fullest
Your beloved should fall exhausted from your kisses
You should fall exhausted from smelling a flower

One can watch the sky for hours
Can for hours watch the sea, a bird, a child
To live on earth is to mingle with it
Growing roots that cannot be eradicated

When you hug a friend you should hug him vigorously
You should fight with all your muscles, body, passion
And once you stretch out on the hot sand
You should rest like a grain of sand, a leaf, a stone

One should listen to all the beautiful music on earth
So as to fill all his being with sounds and songs
One should dive into life as if
Diving from a rock into an emerald sea

Distant lands should lure you, people you do not know
You should burn with desire to read all the books, to know all the lives
You should not exchange for anything the pleasure of drinking a glass of water
All the joys should fill you with the yearning to live

And you should live grief also, with honor, with all your being
For grief also, like joy, matures a person
Your blood should mingle with the great circulation of life
In your veins must circulate the eternal fresh blood of life

There is something I have learned from what I've lived:
If you're to live, live big, as if you #Quote by Ataol Behramoğlu

#142. Get a room at the hotel," he added, grinning roguishly. "I apologized for my error, but I could lose control of myself again," he hinted, rolling to his side and propping on his left elbow to observe her. "Error? You call what you did a simple error?" she demanded sarcastically, emerald eyes narrowed in outrage and distress. "My first one," he informed her, as if shocked himself, then chuckled at her expression. "I guess I'm not perfect after all," he added. Incensed, Calinda snapped. "You're despicable!" "I've been called worse," he casually parried her insult. "You are," she added, gritting her teeth at her helpless position.

-Lynx & Calinda #Quote by Janelle Taylor

#143. There, eastward, within a stone's throw, stood the twin towers of All Souls, fantastic, unreal as a house of cards, clear-cut in the sunshine, the drenched oval in the quad beneath brilliant as an emerald in the bezel of a ring. Behind them, black and grey, New College frowning like a fortress, with dark wings wheeling about her belfry louvres; and Queen's with her dome of green copper; and, as the eye turned southward, Magdalen, yellow and slender, the tall lily of towers; the Schools and the battlemented front of University; Merton, square-pinnacled, half-hidden behind the shadowed North side and mounting spire of St. Mary's. Westward again, Christ Church, vast between Cathedral spire and Tom Tower; Brasenose close at hand; St. Aldate's and Carfax beyond; spire and tower and quadrangle, all Oxford springing underfoot in living leaf and enduring stone, ringed far off by her bulwark of blue hills. #Quote by Dorothy L. Sayers

#144. Science has discovered much. The engineering is wonderful, epicycles and all. And yet, as we look at this vast, elaborate structure built on layer and layer of complex constituents, can we help but be reminded of the Land of Oz. Have we found the Emerald City? Is this what we were searching for? Is this the ultimate fabric of reality? Is this all there is? #Quote by Walker Evans

#145. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! #Quote by J.K. Rowling

#146. We had pale yellow tile in our bathroom rimmed with thin tiles of white. I'd dumped Tack's old, mismatched towels and added new, thick emerald green ones. They were hanging on the towel rack.
My eyes moved.
My moisturizer and toner bottles were the deep hued color of moss. My toothbrush was bright pink, Tack's was electric blue. There was a little bowl by the tap where I tossed my jewelry when I was washing my hands or preparing for bed. It was ceramic painted in glossy sunshine yellow and grass green. My eyes went to the mirror. My undies were cherry red lace.
I grinned at myself in the mirror.
I lived in color, every day, and my life was vibrant.
I rubbed in moisturizer hoping our baby got his or her Dad's sapphire blue eyes.
But I'd settle if they were my green. #Quote by Kristen Ashley

#147. Your perceptiveness however, puts me in a tight spot."

She frowned. "Why? Because I can see through your lies?"

"No," he said quietly. "Because you can see past my false strengths. Even the ones I use to fool myself. #Quote by L.C. Perry

#148. Every blade of grass was craved from emerald, every drip of water turned to diamond #Quote by George R R Martin

#149. Oliver Cromwell can kiss my singing emerald scrotum! #Quote by Stephen Colbert

#150. When I'm under stress," he emphasized, sliding the magnificent emerald onto her finger, "I buy everything in sight. It took my last ounce of control not to buy one of those in every color."
Her eyes lifted from his smiling lips, dropped to the enormous jewel on her finger, and then widened in shock. "Oh, but-" she exclaimed, staring at it and straightening in his arms. "It's glorious. I do mean that, but I couldn't let you-really, I couldn't. Ian," she burst out anxiously, sending a tremor through him when she called him by name, "I can't let you do this. You've been extravagantly generous already." She touched the huge stone almost reverently, then gave her head a practical shake. "I don't need jewels, really I don't. You're doing this because of that stupid remark I made about someone offering me jewels as large as my palm, and now you've bought one nearly that large!"
"Not quite," he chuckled.
"Why, a stone like this would pay for irrigating Havenhurst and all the servants' wages for years and years and years, and food to-"
She reached to slide it off her finger. "Don't!" he warned on a choked laugh, linking his hands behind her back. "I-" he thought madly for some way to stop her objections-"I cannot possibly return it," he said. "It's part of a matched set."
"You don't mean there's more!"
"I'm afraid so, though I meant to surprise you with them tonight. There's a necklace and bracelet and earrings."
"Oh, I see," she said, making a visib #Quote by Judith McNaught

#151. I am told that in the heart of a vast, bowl-shaped valley deep inside the High Pamir where the sheep and the goats spend their summers grazing by the hundreds as far as the eye can see, there is a cold blue stream that meanders through emerald meadows until it spills into a small lake that carries the color of the sky and that the surface of this lake and the surrounding grasslands shiver in unison beneath the movement of a wind that never stops blowing. #Quote by Greg Mortenson

#152. Hot is really not an adequate enough word for this guy. He is crazy beautiful. And it's more than his looks - the intentionally messy waves of his dark hair; the strong eyebrows that make his expression a bit serious, even when he smiles; his eyes, which I notice can look emerald in one light and hazel in another; the sweetly sculpted angles of his face; the curve of his full lips. #Quote by Cynthia Hand

#153. A wise word is more rare than the green emerald, and one can find the word of wisdom even amongst the slave girls making grain. #Quote by Barbara De Angelis

#154. I knew I wasn't second best for Tim (just as I knew that in real life, Jolene's flaming locks and eyes of emerald green stood no change against the aces of spades that was Dolly Parton's chest), but it took some believing, because I'd been second best to my sister for most of my life. That shakes your faith in yourself. #Quote by Anna Maxted

#155. The loyal and most emerald
The tempted
By the moon's aging white
Never fell from grace
Never felt this grey #Quote by Isbelle Razors

#156. Standing within a peat bog in Dingle, you can't help wondering what Ireland was like before you and the other primates scrambled up upon its shores. When viewed from space, did it glow like a furry emerald within a sea of blue, the terrestrial equivalent of a massive marine plankton bloom? We #Quote by Hope Jahren

#157. This is Doctor Norton. Who's calling?"
"Step N'Wolfe- the owner of the Emerald Cascade Ranch on Green Valley Road. I have a horse in labor and the baby's already coming out of the horse's ass."
"You should of called sooner. #Quote by Giorge Leedy

#158. I know that the best time to see them is in that perfect hour before sunset when the sun sinks low on the horizon like a ripe peach and sends shafts of gold bursting through the trees. The "in between," I call it. No longer day, not yet night; some other place and time when magic hangs in the air and the light plays tricks on the eye. You might easily miss the flash of violet and emerald, but I- according to my teacher, Mrs. Hogan- am "a curiously observant child." I see their misty forms among the flowers and leaves. I know my patience will be rewarded if I watch and listen, if I believe. #Quote by Hazel Gaynor

#159. Somewhere in the distance he could hear a wireless playing Judy Garland's 'Over the Rainbow.' Wolf had seen the film but, had he been the one swept up to the magical land of Oz, he would have raised an army of flying monkeys, stuck the witches in a concentration camp, razed the Emerald City to the ground and executed the wizard for communist sympathies, being a Jew, a homosexual, intellectually retarded, or all of the above.
He did like the tune, though. #Quote by Lavie Tidhar

#160. She is beginning to think it is possible that all creation is a spurt of blank matter that chances to make an emerald planet here, a dead star there, with random waste between. #Quote by Don DeLillo

#161. You're not wearing that," he informed me.
"Yes,I am."
"No,you're not."
"Yes,I am."
"You'll look ridiculous."
"I beg your pardon?" I said, affronted.
"There's nothing wrong with your dress, or the way it fits you," he clarified with a roll of his eyes, as if he were explaining the obvious to a simpleton. "But it just won't do."
"And why not?"
"Your attire doesn't complement mine at all."
This as entirely accurate and pleased me greatly. He wore black pants and an ivory shirt under a fitted gold-and-emerald-green doublet, an emsemble that made him appear annoyingly godlike, but which was very near horrendous next to sky blue.
"Then our garb will complement our personalities," I retorted. #Quote by Cayla Kluver

#162. The light dimmed. The sky through the windows turned emerald. It was the first green storm of the season, and as Kestrel heard the wind pummel the house, she knew that Arin was wrong. He had wanted to punish her for months now. Hadn't she bought him? Didn't she own him? This was his revenge. That was all.
The rain drove nails against the windowpanes. The room grew almost black. Kestrel heard Arin's voice again in her mind and felt suddenly broken. Even if she didn't doubt her feelings for Enai, there had been truth in his words.
She didn't notice him return. This storm was loud, the room was dark. She sucked in her breath when she realized he stood next to her. For the first time, it occurred to her to be afraid of him.
But he merely struck a match and touched it to the wick of a lamp. He was soaked with rain. His skin glittered with it.
When she looked at him, he flinched. "Kestrel." He sighed. He rubbed a hand through his wet hair. "I shouldn't have said what I did."
"You meant it."
"Yes, but--" Arin looked weary and confused. "I would have been angry if you did not weep for her." He held out the hand that rested at his side in the shadows, and for an uncertain moment Kestrel thought he would touch her. But he was only offering something on his uplifted palm. "This was in her cottage," he said.
It was a braid of Kestrel's hair. She took it carefully; even so, her smallest finger brushed his wet palm. His hand instantly fell.
She consi #Quote by Marie Rutkoski

#163. Hassler flips burgers on a grill in the shadow of the remnants of the Seattle Gas Light Company, a collection of rusted cylinders and ironwork that looms in the distance like the ruins of a steampunk skyline. The expanse of emerald grass runs down to the edge of Lake Union, which sparkles under the late afternoon sun. It's June. It's warm. The entire city seems to be out taking advantage of this rare, perfect day. #Quote by Blake Crouch

#164. Genevieve Windham was not pretty, she was exquisite. Pretty in present English parlance meant blond hair and blue eyes, regular features, and a willingness to spend significant sums at the modiste of the hour. Unless a woman was emaciated or obese, her figure mattered little, there being corsets, padding, and other devices available to augment the Creator's handiwork. Failing those artifices, one resorted to the good offices of the portraitist, who could at least render a lady's likeness pretty even if the lady herself were not. Lady Jenny left pretty sitting on its arse in the mud several leagues back. Her eyes were a luminous, emerald green, not blue. Her hair was gold, not blond. Her figure surpassed the willowy lines preferred by Polite Society and veered off into the realms of sirens, houris, and dreams a grown man didn't admit aloud lest he imperil his dignity. The itching over Elijah's body faded in the face of the itch he felt to sketch her. She #Quote by Grace Burrowes

#165. I never dreamed that she meant lights. Sparkling. Shimmering. Waves of light. We could see them from the front of the cafe. Besides the few customers, everyone who lived on the street was gathered inside. And I mean everyone, even strange little Esther. She'd squeezed herself into the darkest corner of the room, sitting on the floor with her arms wrapped around her bent knees. But even her face was in awe. Silvers. Pearls. Iridescent pinks. They now sprayed out into the sunless room and hit the ceiling. The walls. The floor. Glowing copper. Gilded orange. And all kinds or gold. Sequins of light that swirled and spun through the air. Cascades of light flowing in, breaking up, and rolling like fluid diamonds over the worn tile. Emerald. Turquoise. Sapphire. It went on for hours. I looked over there and there were tears streaming down Gabe's wrinkled face: God bless you, Eve. And finally only the muted glow of a cool aquamarine. Then we heard the baby's first thin cry- and the place went wild. #Quote by Gloria Naylor

#166. This house has been far out at sea all night, The woods crashing through darkness, the booming hills, Winds stampeding the fields under the window Floundering black astride and blinding wet Till day rose; then under an orange sky The hills had new places, and wind wielded Blade-light, luminous black and emerald, Flexing like the lens of a mad eye. #Quote by Ted Hughes

#167. It was slow but brief, and in those few seconds I felt that need, that sense of longing, that Aspen tended to inspire in me. One look at his emerald eyes, hungry and deep, and I felt my knees start to go shaky. #Quote by Kiera Cass

#168. Calm, gleam of your emerald kingdom raising my spirit beyond for perspective welcomes a smooth adventure with your golden waves of knowledge and wisdom nurturing the life within...never still, never quiet... Your voice calls out to me, and I follow taking the path less traveled by bringing me peaceful joy and right into the arms of this ancient land...going through precious memories of the past with great gratitude for all that has been to me...and opening to highest serene visions of the future with no distraction. With harmony of elements, a tuneful whisper of your deep humble soul filling the air with a soft love song of our Heavens Waters...full of wonders and embracing divinity... I know for now without doubt I step into a new world of original nature freedom... #Quote by Oksana Rus

#169. Aquamarines grew with emeralds, Claire told me. But emeralds were fragile and always broke into smaller pieces, while aquamarines were stronger, grew in huge crystals without any trouble, so they weren't worth as much. It was the emerald that didn't break that was the really valuable thing. #Quote by Janet Fitch

#170. I flipped through a book on harp seals in the late 1970s and saw images of them swimming in emerald green pools of water surrounded by huge sheets of ice. Right then I was hooked, and I knew this was a story I wanted to do. #Quote by Brian Skerry

#171. Emerald slopes became so tall they touched the clouds, and showers painted diamond waterfalls that sluiced down cliff sides. #Quote by Victoria Kahler

#172. The mountain trees that grew between the pines were a brilliant blaze of fall colors, like fire against the emerald green of the pines, firs and pruces. And it was, as I'd told myself long ago, the year's last passionate love affair before it grew old and died from the frosty bite of winter. #Quote by V.C. Andrews

#173. The clamor of traffic intensified as the coach's door swung open. Nathaniel clambered inside amid a swirl of emerald silk. He flashed Elisabeth a grin, pulling the door shut as he took a seat in the opposite corner.

"Best if I don't show myself," he explained. "I don't want to inflame the public. They go absolutely mad in the presence of celebrity, you see, and I'd prefer them not to storm the carriage. There are only so many propositions of marriage a man can bear. #Quote by Margaret Rogerson

#174. Every so often, the gods stop laughing long enough to do something terrible. There are few facts that are not brutal. The bitter, insufficient truth is that God recovered, but fun is dead.
Alcohol: the antidote to civilization. Alcoholism is a fatal disease. But then I am not a member of Alcoholics Anonymous, because I don't want to be cured. Alcoholism is suicide with training wheels. I watch myself sinking, an inch at a time, and I spit into the eye of fate, like Doc Holliday, who died too weak to lift a playing card. My traitorous and degenerate attitude is sort of my book review of the world we live in. I resign from the human race. I declare myself null and void; folded, spindled, and mutilated.
. . .This bar is an oasis for the night people, the street people, the invisible tribe, the people who simply do not exist in the orderly world we see in Time - the weekly science fiction magazine published by the Pentagon - an orderly world which is a sanitized Emerald City populated by contented Munchkins who pay taxes to buy tanks, nerve gas, and bombers and not a world which is a bus-station toilet where the air is a chemical cocktail of cancer-causing agents, children are starving, and the daily agenda is kill or be killed.
When the world demands that you be larger than life, and you are finding it hard enough just being life-size, you can come here, in the messy hemorrhaging of reality, let your hair down, take your girdle off, and not be embarrassed by your #Quote by Gustav Hasford

#175. Most had faded to a light jade by now ... all except Chandra, I noted, with more than a little satisfaction. She was still a dazzling Day-Glo emerald, and I gave a little finger wave from across the room. She merely returned the finger. #Quote by Vicki Pettersson

#176. Silence and twilight fell over the garden. Far away the sea was lapping gently and monotonously on the bar. The wind of evening in the poplars sounded like some sad, weird old rune-some broken dream of old memories. A slender, shapely young aspen rose up before them against the fine maize and emerald and paling rose of the western sky, which brought out every leaf and twig in dark, tremulous, elfin loveliness. #Quote by L.M. Montgomery

#177. The Emerald City has been ruled by men long enough #Quote by L. Frank Baum

#178. A girl stood before him in midstream, alone and still, gazing out to sea. She seemed like one whom magic had changed into the likeness of a strange and beautiful seabird. Her long slender bare legs were delicate as a crane's and pure save where an emerald trail of seaweed had fashioned itself as a sign upon the flesh. Her thighs, fuller and soft-hued as ivory, were bared almost to the hips, where the white fringes of her drawers were like feathering of soft white down. Her slate-blue skirts were kilted boldly about her waist and dovetailed behind her. Her bosom was as a bird's, soft and slight, slight and soft as the breast of some dark-plumaged dove. But her long fair hair was girlish: and girlish, and touched with the wonder of mortal beauty, her face. #Quote by James Joyce

#179. Cyrus walked straight to the tallest crack of light, a seam between two doors. They were locked, but they were also thin and old, and they bent a little with pressure from his shoulder.

He backed up.

"Try one of Skelton's keys," said Antigone. "Is there a keyhole?"

"Nope." Cyrus threw himself against the doors. Wood popped, but he bounced back. "I can break it."

"You mean a rib? Maybe your shoulder?" Antigone adjusted her grip, propping Horace in front of her.

"There's just one little bolt," said Cyrus. "And it's set in old wood." He paused. What was he hearing? Voices. Shouting. "You hear that?" he asked.

Antigone nodded. "They don't sound happy."

This time, Cyrus used his foot. The wood splintered, and the two doors wobbled open onto a world of emerald and sunlight. #Quote by N.D. Wilson

#180. The way you create any outcome in your life is to hold the vision of your deepest desires. At the same time, though, you must honestly and accurately assess your current situation and how it relates to your greater vision. By doing this, you engage tension between what is and what can be. This tension is the primary creative force behind the manifestation of any outcome. It's as natural and powerful as the force of gravity. #Quote by David Emerald Womeldorff

#181. Whatever anyone does or says, I must be emerald and keep my colour. #Quote by Marcus Aurelius

#182. Mid the sharp, short emerald wheat, scarce risen three fingers well,
The wild tulip at the end of its tube, blows out its great red bell,
Like a thin clear bubble of blood, for the children to pick and sell. #Quote by Robert Browning

#183. After three hours, I come back to the waiting room. It is a cosmetic surgery office, so a little like a hotel lobby, underheated and expensively decorated, with candy in little dishes, emerald-green plush chairs, and upscale fashion magazines artfully displayed against the wall.
A young woman comes in, frantic to get a pimple "zapped" before she sees her family over the holidays. An older woman comes in with her daughter for a follow-up visit to a face-lift. She is wearing a scarf and dark glasses. The nurse examines her bruises right out in the waiting room.
And you are in the operating room having your body and your gender legally altered. I feel like laughing, but I know it makes me sound like a lunatic. #Quote by Joan Nestle

#184. TED-The Empowerment Dynamic-counteracts the poison of DDT, the Dreaded Dram Triangle. TED is the antidote for DDT. #Quote by David Emerald Womeldorff

#185. I looked up into his emerald eyes where I think I could spend forever and managed to breathe out, "Ditto. #Quote by Jenna Roads

#186. Ireland is probably named the "Emerald Isle" because there are lots of precious stones found there, such as sapphires and rubies. #Quote by Jarod Kintz

#187. But nothing compared to the reality of the magnificent Light Storm of 2015, nothing, that is, except the almond shaped emerald eyes of his passenger. #Quote by H.M. Jones

#188. Did you know that Gideon and I were trained in Krav Maga?" Charlotte took another step closer to me, and I automatically took one back.
"No, but did /you/ know that at this moment you look like that crazy rodent in Ice Age? #Quote by Kerstin Gier

#189. I hate to break it to you, but just because someone has pretty hair and a good skin tone and a crown instead of a pointy hat doesn't mean she's not the baddest bitch this side of the emerald city. #Quote by Danielle Paige

#190. I didn't leave early that morning. I waited for him to wake up and kiss me good morning. He said he was going to take a shower and I should come join him. I thought now was as good of a time as any and placed the ring on his corner table with my note.

It read:
My Love, I don't know how you will accept my decision. I do love you with all my heart but you are not my first love. I am always going to be infatuated with my love for the sea. Accept my proposal after I have completed my education, claim my heart for thy own & obtain thy love in which it possesses.
With all My Love, Zara

-emerald eyes of the sea #Quote by Hazel Cartwright

#191. I love San Francisco so much. I call it the Emerald City and have been coming here since 1992. I have a few old friends that live here, and my aunt and uncle live in Oakland. I think it's a magical city - it's big, sexy and very 'cosmo' with a small-town feel. #Quote by Andy Cohen

#192. Using this same principle, we can also use specific gems or gem elixirs to energize and rebalance the individual chakras. Dark opal and tiger's eye help to rebalance the base chakra. Fire agate works on the second chakra. The solar plexus and third chakra are aided by quartz and pearl. Ruby and emerald stimulate the heart chakra. Lapis lazuli is good for the throat chakra. Quartz resonates with both the pituitary and pineal glands, or sixth and seventh chakras. Diamond is beneficial for the crown chakra.18 #Quote by Gabriel Cousens

#193. In emerald tufts, flowers purple, blue and white;
Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery,
Buckled below fair knighthood's bending knee;
Fairies use flower for their charactery. #Quote by William Shakespeare

#194. The Coach is the antidote to the Victim's Rescuer in the DDT ... Mainly, a Coach supports, assists, and facilitates the Creator in manifesting a desired outcome. A Coach holds others to be whole, resourceful, and creative ... They help you dig deep inside yourself to gain clarity about what you want to create in your life. #Quote by David Emerald Womeldorff

#195. AT TRIGON I LEARNT business is all about people, so to ensure I had the first look at executive talent and could hire the best, I created my own recruitment company. I needed a temporary CFO at Emerald and was told about a recruitment consultant called Carmen Bailey. Within 10 minutes of meeting me, Carmen had asked more questions about my business and what drove and motivated me than anyone I had ever met. Carmen is a perfect example of someone who puts the client first. She is never transactional and for her it wasn't about finding me a contractor but, rather, about wanting to form a long-term sustainable relationship with my business. #Quote by Diane Foreman

#196. He saw the kind of beauty yellow flowers have growing over a carpet of dead leaves. The beauty of cracks forming a mosaic in a dry riverbed, of emerald-green algae at the base of a seawall, of a broken shard from a blue bottle. The beauty of a window smudged with tiny prints. The beauty of wild weeds. #Quote by Michelle Cuevas

#197. Emerald green eyes studied us from a face that could have been sculpted by one of the classical artists I so admired. Shocked, I dismissed the comparison as soon as it popped into my head. This was a vampire, after all. It was ridiculous to admire him the way I would some hot human guy. #Quote by Richelle Mead

#198. Some girls are pretty, and it's like they were destined for it. They were meant to be pretty, and as for the rest of us, well, we get to exist on the outer edges of life. It's like moths. They're the same as butterflies, aren't they? They're just gray. They can't help being gray, they just are. But butterflies, they're a million different colors, yellow and emerald and cerulean blue. They're pretty. Who'd dare kill a butterfly? I don't know of a single soul who'd lift a finger against a butterfly. But most anybody would swat at a moth like it was nothing, and all because it isn't pretty. Doesn't seem fair, not at all. #Quote by Jenny Han

#199. The softness of her touch, the emerald eyes gazing into his when they held hands and circled, attacked his defenses and flung them aside as if he were a helpless lad. If she'd come at him with a dagger, he might have let her stab him in the heart. #Quote by Amy Jarecki

#200. I really want to read michel jackson numer ones #Quote by Emerald.