I think there are some who live on a knife-edge in the soul, and at times are driven to hurl themselves into the air, at the mercy of heaven or he'll which way to fall.
He's like a storybook spirit, a little djinn or something, except instead of air or water his element is imagination.
In the blink of an eye, the fairytales told to children were as real as death and taxes. Vampires, shifters, trolls, demons and creatures of myth, were as real as the air we breathe.
The night had darkened to the murky sort where the air hung like descending clouds and the overhead branches made the liquid darkness even more impenetrable.
I was drinking in the surroundings: air so crisp you could snap it with your fingers and greens in every lush shade imaginable offset by autumnal flashes of red and yellow.
Finally, mercifully, the spasms subsided, as the old man’s head lolled back, his mouth hanging open, taking in deep, ragged breaths of stale, recirculated air.
Look around you...Feel the wind, smell the air. Listen to the birds and watch the sky. Tell me what's happening in the wide world.
The autumn twilight turned into deep and early night as they walked. Tristran could smell the distant winter on the air--a mixture of night-mist and crisp darkness and the tang of fallen leaves.
With heightened senses it remained motionless and looked through bulbous eyes. It could taste fear in the air. Pheromones. Sweat. Food was near, but more importantly, so was its new home.
the lesser grindstone stood alone there in the calm morning air, with a red upon it that the sun had never given, and would never take away.
Repudiating the virtues of your world, criminals hopelessly agree to organize a forbidden universe. They agree to live in it. The air there is nauseating: they can breathe it.
Only is a bird doesn't swim in the ocean but flies in the air can it enter the ocean from above; only because God is not temporal can he enter into time.
John Mandrake was an attractive young man, and the scent of power hung about him, sweet and intoxicating, like honeysuckle in the evening air.
Poetry is a finikin thing of air That lives uncertainly and not for long Yet radiantly beyond much lustier blurs.
Don't mind her. She keeps her nose so high in the air, she's liable to drown in a good rainstorm.
Jesus sleeps on the cross by the church door. When he wakes up, he'll be old. The air in the village will be brighter than his naked skin.
How much change can a person absorb before everything loses meaning Living for its own sake isn't life. People need meaning as much as they need air.
When I burp I’m not just pushing polluted air into the world—no, I’m espousing my belief on the true nature of politicians.
The truth of existence was a happiness separated from the easy happy life. There was music in the forest. There was clean air where nobody could hear him breathe.
I was spinning—from the kiss, the alcohol or the lack of air, I wasn’t sure, but I knew I needed to pull away if only just to breath.
All about us the earth steamed; mists rose up toward heaven like clouds of incense; a shattered rainbow still hovered in the air.
