Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Shrouds. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Shrouds Quotes And Sayings by 91 Authors including John Geddes,John Connolly,A.e. Housman,Horace,James Joyce for you to enjoy and share.
Skeins of mist like translucent silk, bending and unbending in the headlight tunnels ...
chased by the shadows of clouds.
Stone, steel, dominions pass,
Faith too, no wonder;
So leave alone the grass
That I am under.
Treacherous ashes hide
The fires through which you stride
We wail, batten, sport, clip, clasp, sunder, dwindle, die:
Every Shadowhunter should have a stele.
Hands of Mercy and tanks of hell.
The watcher on the walls. The sword in the darkness.
birch twigs, and a willow binding. The ash is protective, the birch is purifying, and the willow is sacred to the Goddesss. Of
Simmer down, crouching demon, hidden Warden.
Daggers. Never leave home without them.
As phantoms frighten beasts when shadows fall.
In a long journey straw waighs.
Wraiths! Wraiths on wings!
Treasure the shadow ... There are no shadows save from substance cast.
Fogged, bogged gates of Brume, barrier to my home; Timeless, faceless watchers loom, but I am allowed to roam.
These Sultans of the fastnesses were turbaned with tumbled volumes of cloud, which shredded away from time to time and drifted off fringed and torn, trailing their continents of shadow after them;
No matter how deep and dark your pit, how dank your shroud, their heads are heroically unbloody and unbowed.
Mountain bats, those massive serpentine creatures of myth. Those ancient scavengers of the battlefield.
They soared past the dark shapes of animals, grazing in the fields.
"What are they?" she asked.
"Sheep," Mason replied. "I once heard someone describe them as floating like clouds across the hills.
A cloak of invisibility? This is a highly sensitive piece of field equipment. What does he think? Some warlock pulled it out of his armpit?
If the aegis of the Almighty cover thee, what sword can smite thee? Rest thou secure.
The skin of moss / holds the footprints of / star-footed birds.
Jamadars and bheesties,' said the helmsman. 'Not to mention the major-domos, lordly lamplighters and twisted firestarters.' 'Twisted firestarters?' enquired the detective. 'I told you not to mention them.
A flock of seagulls rise and swoop above the black profile of the moor, and they are so luminous, so fragile, it would be easy to mistake them for shreds of paper.
Secrecy of design, when combined with rapidity of execution, like me column that guided Israel in the deserts, becomes the guardian pillar of light and fire to our friends, a cloud of overwhelming and impenetrable darkness to our enemies.
The Veil of Consciousness is a thin sheath that
I wear to view the transparency of the life that
Surrounds me.
Hooded, and veiled with their night-like tresses, The Fates shall bring what no prophet guesses." And
Shattered edges of the diamonds rough sets to cut the unsuspecting.
Death in the Clouds
Each scar's a cipher rimmed with old barbs and landmines, protecting its truth.
Through tattered clothes, small vices do appear. Robes and furred gowns hide all.
Sieges weathered.
I have always disliked shrouding ... especially feelings and emotions. I discovered quite later in life that truth and transparency are expected but exploited and disliked.
Seagulls ... slim yachts of the element.
Crimes, sins, nightmares, hunks of hair: it was surprising how many of them has something to dispose of. The more I charged, the easier it was for them to breathe freely once more.
Merlin's "Merlin" outfit.
When a scene is shrouded in mist, it seems greater, nobler, and heightens the viewers' imaginative powers, increasing expectation -
like a veiled girl. Generally the eye and the imagination are more readily drawn by nebulous distance than by what is perfectly plain for all to see
In a somer seson, whan softe was the sonne, I shoop me into shroudes as I a sheep were, In habite an heremite unholy of werkes, Went wide in this world wondres to here.
They throw their shadows before them who carry their lantern on their back.
Smoke veils the air like souls in drifting suspension, declining the war's insistence everyone move on.
Clouds symbolize the veils that shroud God.
in this dangerous time when shadows cast shadows of their own, when darkness often passed for light, the just and the unjust wore the same face. Weaving
Those who die in battle are burned, their ashes used to make the marble arches that you see here. The blood and bone of demon slayers is itself a powerful protection against evil. Even in death, the Clave serves the cause.
and dust, the armored spearhead
The seed of mortals broods o'er passing things, and hath nought surer than the smoke-cloud's shadow.
There are times when the air that floats between mortals becomes, in its stillness and silence, as cruel as the edge of a scythe.
People are masks, with masks under those masks, and masks under those, and down you go.
Clouds signify the veil of the Most High.
We are spirits clad in veils; Man by man was never seen; All our deep communing fails To remove the shadowy screen.
Feathered with hoarfrost, skeletal trees loom closer; fog shrouded arches.
Flame and shadow. One cannot exist without the other.
Soothe and sly stamina with a short sword they slice
They are beyond precise making the victim pay the price
where there are priests, there is fear of Dust.
The reeds give
way to the
wind and give
the wind away
The towers of removal boxes throw shadows across the hall, like monuments to everything that is now absent
courtyards at midnight, disguised. And besides,
As a breath on glass, -
As witch-fires that burn,
The gods and monsters pass,
Are dust, and return.
("The Face of the Skies")
Worriers spend a lot of time shoveling smoke.
Carry your sorrow inside you as the cloud conceals ruin and death like a deadly secret that is understood only when the storm breaks.
How many threadbare souls are to be found under silken cloaks and gowns!
the rain falls, catching the trailing edges of net curtains which flow out of open windows like fishing nets lowered over the backs of boats, nets hung neatly between the outside and the in, keeping floundering secrets firmly hidden...
A wanton waste of projectiles.
Demonslayer planted every step with care, keeping as silent as he could moving through the grass. Teenagers slung insults at each other beyond the hedgerow on his left, a barrage of words and phrases
What is a Shadowhunter made of, if they desert their own, if they throw away a child's heart like rubbish left on the side of the road? Tell me, Simon Lewis, if that is what Shadowhunters are, why would I wish to be one?
Walls wrought of time and stone and magic.
Newspapers ... serve as chimnies to carry off noxious vapors and smoke.
Rolling torture wagons for nature's most dignified creature.
All those layers of silence upon silence.
The fog between the trees of ghosts who lift suns.
Like mimic meteors the snow, In silence out of Heaven sifts.
I like the masks; because the real face of the mask is again itself!
Ashes. Ashes, and blood, and nothing more.
You do remember how dangerous I am with those?"
"Aye, that's the point. Everyone will duck and cover if they see you wielding these."
"Even my teammates?"
"Especially your teammates.
White is fearful to gaze upon for too long: it is the color of shrouds; it is all-color, the prism fused, undifferentiated, linked wave to wave and particle to particle.
Honor Lost
Ambulant sunshine pierced
the soot covered glass ~
the feeble man wandered by
in this ritual morning pass ...
What precious drops are those, Which silently each other's track pursue, Bright as young diamonds in their faint dew?
Dark accurate plunger down the successive knell
Of arch on arch, where ogives burst a red
Reverberance of hail upon the dead
Thunder like an exploding crucible!
Death in the Clouds The
You mess with the reaper, you get the scythe
Clouds of confusion
rolled into illusion
He veils perversion
forcing her coercion
Her body he takes
while she flies away
unbelievable, she's invisible
Voluptuous and enveloping like layers of precious fabrics
Have you ever heard of Remnants? - Skulduggery
Becoming unshakeable through this storm.
The benediction of these covering heavens Fall on their heads like dew, for they are worthy To inlay heaven with stars.
Nothing 'gainst Times scythe can make defence.
Angel dust blown a sunder,
Nestling on the edge of unchartered dreams,
Filtering the dileneation between ones desires & needs.
Clouds veiled the mountains,
There, did you think to kill me? There's no flesh or blood within this cloak to kill. There's only an idea.
Ideas are bulletproof.
Farewell.
There's good things about wearing armour. One is that if your horse bounces you through deep brush, all that happens is that you get pine-needles in your visor.
Through the sharp air a flaky torrent flies, Mocks the slow sight, and hides the gloomy skies; The fleecy clouds their chilly bosoms bare, And shed their substance on the floating air.
Beware of shadows bearing gifts.
Camouflage is a game we all like to play, but our secrets are as surely revealed by what we want to seem to be as by what we want to conceal.
Shroud of dust now covers the beautiful earth, wonder when we respire in the fresh air of verdure.
The Mirrow will always win from the Shadow.
Some things you just can't hide, no matter how thick the material.
Large, heavy, ragged black clouds hung like crape hammocks beneath the starry cope of the night. You would have said that they were the cobwebs of the firmament.
In our society, most of us wear protective masks of various kinds and for various reasons. Very often the end result is that the masks grow to us, displacing our original characters with our assumed characters.
The beautiful uncut hair of graves.
I like to write in a shroud of secrecy because I have to keep finding ways to scare myself.