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635dba8
|
Maybe 'Okay' will be our 'always'...
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|
kiss
stars
romantic
romance
inspire
love
inspirational
fangirl
lovely-quote
okay
thefaultinourstars
cancer
augustus-waters
hazel-grace-lancaster
john-green
author
green
tfios
the-fault-in-our-stars
john
fault
always
book
|
John Green |
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a35124d
|
Right, well, he'd been sick for a while and his nurse said to him, 'You seem to be feeling better this morning,' and Isben looked at her and said, 'On the contrary,' and then he died.
|
|
death
halter
henrik-isben
miles
pudge
green
john
last-words
looking
dying
|
John Green |
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c6cec63
|
Green in nature is one thing, green in literature another. Nature and letters seem to have a natural antipathy; bring them together and they tear each other to pieces.
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|
literature
nature
poetry
writing
green
drama
|
Virginia Woolf |
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27aaab4
|
Fenugreek, Tuesday's spice, when the air is green like mosses after rain.
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|
rain
tuesday
spice
green
|
Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni |
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354745d
|
Because I could not stop for death he kindly stopped for me, or paused at least to strike a glancing blow with his sky-blue mouth as he passed.
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|
mamaba
green
|
Barbara Kingsolver |
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2d2a597
|
Everything we personally own that's made, sold, shipped, stored, cleaned, and ultimately thrown away does some environmental harm every step of the way, harm that we're either directly responsible for or is done on our behalf.
|
|
environmentalism
green
|
Yvon Chouinard |
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9c96237
|
Rained gently last night, just enough to wash the town clean, and then today a clean crisp fat spring day, the air redolent, the kind of green minty succulent air you'd bottle if you could and snort greedily on bleak, wet January evenings when the streetlights hzzzt on at four in the afternoon and all existence seems hopeless and sad.
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|
rain
cleansed
crisp
mink-river
minty
green
|
Brian Doyle |
|
5306390
|
"Thoreau the "Patron Saint of Swamps" because he enjoyed being in them and writing about them said, "my temple is the swamp... When I would recreate myself, I seek the darkest wood, the thickest and most impenetrable and to the citizen, most dismal, swamp. I enter a swamp as a sacred place, a sanctum sanctorum... I seemed to have reached a new world, so wild a place...far away from human society. What's the need of visiting far-off mountains and bogs, if a half-hour's walk will carry me into such wildness and novelty."
|
|
marsh
swamp
wetlands
green
ecology
|
Henry David Thoreau |
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e98c763
|
"Fat Charlie went back to his hotel room, the colour of underwater, where his lime sat, like a small green Buddha, on the countertop. "You're no help," he told the lime. This was unfair. It was only a lime; there was nothing special about it at all. It was doing the best it could."
|
|
lime
fat-charlie
gaiman
buddha
green
|
Neil Gaiman |
|
0a7f20a
|
We'd never seen anything as green as these rice paddies. It was not just the paddies themselves: the surrounding vegetation - foliage so dense the trees lost track of whose leaves were whose - was a rainbow coalition of one colour: green. There was an infinity of greens, rendered all the greener by splashes of red hibiscus and the herons floating past, so white and big it seemed as if sheets hung out to dry had suddenly taken wing. All other colours - even purple and black - were shades of green. Light and shade were degrees of green. Greenness, here, was less a colour than a colonising impulse. Everything was either already green - like a snake, bright as a blade of grass, sidling across the footpath - or in the process of becoming so. Statues of the Buddha were mossy, furred with green.
|
|
travel
globetrotting
southeast-asia
verdant
landscapes
green
travel-writing
jungle
|
Geoff Dyer |
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b7b0463
|
"Today, and let us celebrate this fact, We can eat the light of our beloved, warmed by compassion or cooled by intellectual feeling. And if we are surprised, and some of us disappointed, that the light is now only green - well, such was the vital probability awaiting us. We have, after all, an increase in the energy available for further evolution; we can use the energy of our position relative to the probabilities in the future to reach the future we desire. The full use of this energy is just beginning to be explored, and we have the opportunity open to few generations to create our best opportunities. We must not slacken in our desire now if we desire a future. The pressure of probabilities on the present increases the momentum of evolution, and as the voluble helix turns, and turns us away from our improbable satiation, we can see that the shadow cast on the present from the future is not black but rainbowed, brilliant with lemon yellow, plum-purple, and cherry-red. I have no patience with those who say that their desire for light is satisfied. Or that they are bored. I have myself a still unsatisfied appetite for green: eucalyptus, celadon, tourmaline, and apple. ("Desire")"
|
|
light
green
|
William S. Wilson |
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5ac577c
|
"With Pollution, emotion is irrelevant, it is not their nature," Mearth sighed, making a face as if she were talking to an ignorant small child. "I didn't create them, humans created the Pollution. Cheryl Nobel, Alecto Steele, Albert Sanders, Olivia Campbell, all my pretty little Representations, there aren't many of them left these days but they're still very dangerous! They're here to tell society all about its mistakes! You don't understand the world of Representations."
|
|
suicide
earth
grief
loss
nature
fear
death
imagination
chernobyl
entity
hazardous
love-canal
tar
tar-sands
toxic-waste
sydney-tar-ponds
cape-breton
nova-scotia
recycle
hippie
disturbing
smog
mother-earth
imaginary
chemicals
representation
coal
green
steel
environment
canada
pollution
storm
dying
scared
|
Rebecca McNutt |
|
c6d85ed
|
"The prints shop manager, a balding man of about thirty years old, dressed in a plaid work shirt and faded jeans, looked very shocked when he saw the headline text. "Sydney Tar Ponds, Is It As Dangerous As People Say? Well," he exclaimed, glancing at the front photo, which featured the Sydney Steel Corporation, along with its plumes of orange smog. "You know, most people your age are really against that mill, as if it's a disease. We have university students protesting every few weeks or so... strangely enough, the ones who have parents who rely on that steel mill to pay the bills." "What about the pollution?" Wendy questioned, almost accusingly, as if it was his fault. "What if dangerous chemicals are in the environment?" "Hey kid, I don't even work at the mill, never have, but my father, my uncle, their father, cousins, all worked there," the prints shop man argued, placing the newspapers in a cardboard box and taping it shut. "When it comes down to all that 'go green' crap, you have to ask yourself, is it worth risking a person's income, their job, their family... their life? I'm not saying you're wrong, but these newspapers might have a point."
|
|
earth
earth-day
go-green
industry-decline
manager
print
recycle
hippie
smog
newspaper
environmentalism
shop
career
green
pollution
job
nostalgia
|
Rebecca McNutt |
|
de3efa9
|
"What are you doing?" Alecto asked in surprise, stepping back. Laughing brightly, she dragged him towards the greenhouse, the shattered glass reflecting rainbows as brilliant as a million Kodak flashcubes, glittering as they were cascaded through the breeze. "See, don't be afraid of the glass, it can't hurt us," Mandy laughed, spectacularly eccentric, her eyes reflecting the fallen glass. "I wasn't afraid of the glass, but this isn't a very secluded place that you just decided to vandalize," Alecto cautioned, smiling despite his words. Before Mandy could reply, she heard loud whispering in the air, behind the trees... it sounded like a group of people, all whispering in unison... "Somebody's out there," she exclaimed nervously. "Yeah, you're right," Alecto replied. Suddenly a sharp new vibrancy seemed to fill his eyes and he smiled coldly, taking the tree branch from Mandy and rapidly smashing in all of Mrs. Matthias' stained glass house windows with it. Blue, green, yellow, red, turquoise, purple and an array of other colors showered through the sky noisily, sounding like wind chimes and crashing waves. "They'll go away," he told her, glancing up at the sky. "...Alecto, do you like me?" Mandy questioned, holding out her arms like a lopsided scarecrow as the glass fell through her dark red hair. "Yeah, sure," he answered. "Will you be my friend, then? A real friend, not just another person who feels sorry for me?" Mandy asked. "...Alright, Mandy Valems," Alecto agreed."
|
|
depression
fun
friends
funny
friendship
love
colored
flashcube
greenhouse
scarecrow
stained-glass
vibrancy
wind-chimes
kodak
cape-breton
nova-scotia
glitter
cut
air
whispering
yellow
waves
best-friends
sorry
green
sharp
vandalism
blue
canada
glass
growing-up
red
shatter
trees
noir
friend
house
smile
children
crashing
noise
nostalgia
|
Rebecca McNutt |
|
61b3ab3
|
She looked up at him, her eyes enormous. He noticed they were hazel, the sort that picked up whatever hue was near. Now they were the same shade of green as the moss ringing the cavern.
|
|
hazel-eyes
green
shade
|
Connie Mason |
|
cd79ed7
|
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.
|
|
green
|
Betty MacDonald |
|
bc72828
|
The cave was cool and silent- thoroughly carpeted- with the most luxuriant mantle of mosses Alma Whittaker had ever seen. The cave was not merely mossy; it throbbed with moss. It was not merely green; it was frantically green. It was so bright in its verdure that the color nearly spoke, as though- smashing through the world of sight- it wanted to migrate into the world of sound. The moss was a thick, living pelt, transforming every rock surface into a mythical, sleeping beast. Improbably, the deepest corners of the cave glittered the brightest; they were absolutely studded, Alma realized with a gasp, with the jewellike filigree of 'Schistotega pennata.' Goblin's gold, dragon's gold, elfin gold- 'Schistotega pennata' was that rarest of cave mosses, that false gem that gleams like a cat's eye from within the permanent twilight of geologic shade, that unearthly sparkling plant that needs but the briefest sliver of light each day to sparkle like glory forever, that brilliant trickster whose shining facets have fooled so many travelers over the centuries into believing that they have stumbled upon hidden treasure. But to Alma, this 'was' treasure, more stunning than actual riches, for it bedecked the entire cave in the uncanny, glistering, emerald light that she had only ever before seen in miniature, in glimpses of moss seen through a microscope... yet now she was standing fully within it.
|
|
genus-species
horticulture
moss
botany
cave
green
|
Elizabeth Gilbert |
|
cb623f8
|
He didn't remember the very first time he actually died very well. It wasn't as bad as remediation, but he remembered being afraid and worried... and when he found himself alive again a few hours later with Mearth's wild green eyes peering down at him, he remembered still being afraid and worried. It was strange, he thought, to be afraid of being alive... but being alive was worse than being dead in his mind.
|
|
pain
suffering
fear
death
life
alive
green
worry
memory
|
Rebecca McNutt |
|
f3d5f4e
|
I selected a simple but graceful gown with a sage-colored organza overdress and a seed-pearl choker, hoping that I had chosen well, and I swept my hair up with long, pearl-dotted pins from a small ivory box on the vanity.
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|
pearls
green
mina-harker
gown
|
Karen Essex |
|
9e26cef
|
ve dep cua ho tua nhu ve dep cua thuc vat, khong bi vuong ban boi nhung chuyen phu hoa, lo lang hay no luc.
|
|
green
pure
|
Christopher Isherwood |
|
a3afb29
|
She browsed many a shop for just the right gown. The dressmaker had started it for another woman, who had decided she did not want it after all. A few alterations were all it needed. And it was exquisite, made of pale green silk that brought out tiny gold flecks in her eyes. The neckline was , deep and off the shoulders, giving way to a deep vee that made her waist look unbelievably tiny.
|
|
green
gown
|
Samantha James |