Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Vaunted. 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 Vaunted Quotes And Sayings by 92 Authors including Peter Gizzi,John Buford,Lorenz Hart,Buffalo Bill,Walter Dean Myers for you to enjoy and share.
I like the word bewilderment because it has both be and wild in it.
Found everybody in a terrible state of excitement on account of the enemy's advance upon this place.
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered am I.
I felt only as a man can feel who is roaming over the prairies of the far West, well armed, and mounted on a fleet and gallant steed.
But now, like a fallen sparrow On a golden chain, I'm forever bound in shadow, A prisoner to my pain.
I am tarred and feathered with Time.
I still feel like a castaway, th elast of a once numerous species. It was as though Robinson Crusoe discovered the telltale footprint on the beach and then realized that it was his own. Myself, small as a leaf, thin as water, begins to cry.
We are pursued (persecuted and hard driven), but not deserted [to stand alone]; we are struck down to the ground, but never struck out and destroyed;
You were smitten with me. You were speechless to behold my beauty. You had never met anyone so fascinating. You thought of me every waking minute. You dreamed about me. You couldn't stand it. You couldn't let such wonderfulness out of your sight. You had to follow me.
But now I am cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in To saucy doubts and fears.
Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep, Shot forth peculiar graces.
Indescribably delirious!
I have been so overwhelmed by the many storms that have broken over my head, that I am become passive in the hands of the Almighty, like a sparrow in the talons of an eagle.
My soul wandered, happy, sad, unending.
There is nothing more abominable than being in a state of bodily exhaustion and mental irritation; I was too lethargic to get up and seek some means of occupying my mind, but I was too uneasy to fall asleep.
Blessed are the sat upon, spat upon, ratted on.
You were chased here by darkness.
Listen to the curve of the hills, the guttering voice.
The way to anywhere leads through humiliation.
There are only animal trails.
I felt in this new adventure I was rousing to life again. I was a butterfly, newly emerged from the chrysalis, damp winged and trembling with expectation.
A cold sense of desolation lodged itself somewhere in the base of my throat, and suddenly I was no longer enraged or devastated, but terrified of the immense, throbbing loneliness that was only now closing like a vise on my internal organs.
Between the adored and the adorer falls the shadow.
Up here on this forgotten elbow of land, I have nothing to lose, and though I am more afraid now than I have ever been, I am relieved, I am unburdened, I am ascending.
Entranced by the flight of a raven, I watch its shadow move effortlessly against golden, shimmering granite. I long to be that free, flying above the cluttered world of normalcy, where so many are half alive.
Everywhere and nowhere as the March wind begin to rise and moan like a dead Berserker winding his horn, it drifted on the wind, lonely and savage.
I'm consumed by the chill of solitary.
frightening? Vigdis A. panted
Seeking survival, hostile, hidden from sight,
Deliciously flavoured - juicy, sweet bite,
Exploding senses preparing to ignite,
Inspiring to escape from the suffocating night.
I was besieged by a yearning, a craving, a burning desire. My heart had opened like one of those mysterious flowers that only bloom at night.
Eventually I fall asleep, savoring the melancholy pleasures of victory. I wake with a start to a muffled sound: the wolves could not wait for us to withdraw; they are already devouring the bodies.
Naked and restrained, this darkness cannot be contained, you, my esclave, have been claimed..
A moment before I had been safe of all men's respect, wealthy, beloved - the cloth laying for me in the dining room at home; and now I was the common quarry of mankind, hunted, houseless, a known murderer, thrall to the gallows.
Here I am, a wild beast cut off from his companions.
We're in the vanguard of a nameless battle, a battle without arms or bloodshed or glory: we're in the vanguard of waiting.
Vulnerable, messed-up, inadequate
Feeling well that breathed words Would all be lost, unheard, and vain as swords Against the enchased crocodile, or leaps Of grasshoppers against the sun ...
You seem ... unsettled." Was "unsettled" another word for horny enough to climb the walls? Because if so, then yes, I was most definitely unsettled.
Remember that you're far back in the procession; remember that a whole army corps has laid siege to her, that she's been laid waste, plundered and pillaged.
I feel like someone breathed new air into my lungs. I am not Abnegation. I am not Dauntless.
I am Divergent.
I am consumed by love.
We need new words for what this is, this hunger entering our loneliness like birds, stunning our eyes into rays of hope. we need the flutter that can save us, something that will swirl across the face of what we have become and bring us grace.
Ravished is a nice word found in sentimental novel. Between us, Moran, the word that stuck in my mind like shit to the bottom of a shoe was fucked.
It hung above the livid, bruised land like an admonition
All my life I have been pursued by the black dogs of unaccountable gloom
Wasn't I rapt?
Wasn't I ravished?
Beloved, till life can charm no more; And mourned, till Pity's self be dead.
I was shocked. A dying word, "shocked." Few people have been able to use it well since Claude Rains so famously said, "I'm shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on here," as he pocketed his winnings in Casablanca. But it's the only word for excitement and alarm of this intensity.
smitten beyond words, and speechless in the presence of the girl he was falling for.
Her body poised with the tension of a wild animal, ready to pounce - or to flee. So beautiful, he thought. As he voiced the words, she faded away, and his world returned to blackness.
Alone, condemned, deserted, as those who are about to die are alone, there was a luxury in it, an isolation full of sublimity; a freedom which the attached can never know
From restless thoughts, that, like a deadly swarm Of hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone, But rush upon me thronging.
Dauntless: being brave in the midst of fear.
This is the planet teeming, this place we've come to and will leave tomorrow, deepened for the long return but not the wedded reach, the losing touch of self to self, contented more or less and known not nearly well enough.
Her lungs felt thick and slow, her mind dissolved, she felt she could cling like a bat in the long swoon of the crannied, underword darkness. Cling like a bat and sway for ever swooning in the draughts of the darkness
Now you are burnt-out husks, your spirits haggard, sere, always breeding over your wanderings long and hard, your hearts never lifting with any joy - you've suffered far too much.
No more alone through the world's wilderness,
Although I trod the paths of high intent,
I journeyed now: no more companionless
The descent beckons
as the ascent beckoned
amazement, shading into dismay; a shallow horror sensation that cold springs of personal fear swiftly deepened.
Wandering flushes a glory that fades with arrival.
Let none count themselves wise who have not with the nerves of their imagination felt the pain of the vivisected.
Suddenly I'm as if cast out,
and this solitude surrounds me
as something vast and unbounded,
when my feeling, standing on the hills
of my breasts, cries out for wings
or for an end.
Fear of being a flawed person lay at the root of my trance, and I had sacrificed many moments over the years in trying to prove my worth. Like the tiger Mohini, I inhabited a self-made prison that stopped me from living fully.
Utterly engulfed,
And wanting more.
Buried,
Drowned,
Intoxicated,
With the vastness of love.
Losing myself as the waves wash over me,
Through me,
Surrounding me,
Caught up in the a hurricane of overwhelming peace,
I have let go,
And He has found me.
Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon!
Ah, when the means are gone that buy this praise,
The breath is gone whereof this praise is made:
Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers,
These flies are couch'd.
Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow, Or by the lazy Scheld or wandering Po.
Tired of life, afraid of death, not unlike
A lost brig, toy of ebb and flow on the ocean,
My soul weighs anchor for a frightful shipwreck.
And muddy. The long sleeves keep getting caught on thorns and branches as I run through the woods. The pack of muttation tributes draws closer and closer until it overcomes me with hot breath and dripping fangs and I scream myself awake. It's too
Fly from wrath; sad be the sights and bitter fruits of war; a thousand furies wait on wrathful swords.
My heart is hardy, for I have suffered much on the seas and the battlefield: this will be only something more. But a ravenous belly cannot be hid, damn the thing. It gives a world of trouble to men, makes them fit out fleets of ships and scour the barren sea, to bring misery on their enemies.
Wilderness, wilderness ... We scarcely know what we mean by the term, though the sound of it draws all whose nerves and emotions have not been irreparably stunned, deadened, numbed by the caterwauling of commerce, the sweating scramble for profit and domination.
O! how shall summer's honey breath hold out, / Against the wrackful siege of battering days?
I was beloved. I had been hoped for. Somehow, I was necessary.
Despaired of any rest or contentment in a world grown too busy for beauty and too shrewd for dreams
I was quite unbalanced with that instinct for the strange and the unknown which had made me a wanderer upon earth and a haunter of far, ancient, and forbidden places.
Sick and yet happy, in peril and yet happy, dying and yet happy, in exile and happy, in disgrace and happy.
Vexed I am
Of late with passions of some difference,
Conceptions only proper to myself,
Which gives some soil, perhaps, to my behaviors.
The courier of wolves the daughter the dance.
Hopeless.
Betrayal.
Forbidden.
Departure.
The death of Nighteyes gutted me. I walked wounded through my life in the days that followed, unaware of just how mutilated I was. I was like the man who complains of the itching of his severed leg. The itching distracts from the immense knowledge that one will forever after hobble through life.
I have ridden with the Wild Hunt. I have carved a clear path of freedom among the stars and outrun the wind. And now I am asked to walk upon earth again.
Describe your state of mine. Insecure. Uncertain. Feverish
The wilderness is a place of rest - not in the sense of being motionless, for the lure, after all, is to move, to round the next bend. The rest comes in the isolation from distractions, in the slowing of the daily centrifugal forces that keep us off balance.
Blood, pain and an all-surpassing lust for one man settled so deeply into his bones, the need had become part of him. Bottomless, like the touch he craved. Vadim.
A shrieking battle cry echoed on the wind, a spine-tingling scream that sounded like the baying of the wolves closing in on their prey.
I'm going to have to come up with a new word for "excited". Something preferably a verb that describes the simultaneous actions of jumping up and down squealing giggling and generally scaring the hell out of the cats. I'll call it vrasting.
This morning I vrasted.
At least half of his hunters writhed on the ground with grubs already inside them, causing horrendous agony. These had to be helped away by terrified Ship People whose courage lay trembling in their hearts as lightly as leaves.
I was seized by doubt. Should I have come here? But going back was impossible. I had fled a known terror, and perhaps I could cope with this unknown terror that lay ahead.
How helpless we are, like netted birds, when we are caught by desire!
Distraught I seize mine arms ... And with my comrades hasten to the hold: frenzy and anger urge my headlong will, and death methinks how comely, sword in hand!
buoyed not
by thrill but by happiness.
Ruin seize thee, ruthless king! Confusion on thy banners wait! Though fann'd by Conquest's crimson wing, They mock the air with idle state.
I have known exile and a wild passion Of longing changing to a cold ache. King, beggar and fool , I have been all by turns, Knowing the body's sweetness, the mind 's treason ; Taliesin still, I show you a new world , risen, Stubborn with beauty , out of the heart 's need .
I am giddy, expectation whirls me round.
The imaginary relish is so sweet
That it enchants my sense.
Let no one think of me that I am humble or weak or passive; let them understand I am of a different kind: dangerous to my enemies, loyal to my friends. To such a life glory belongs.
Once you've been struck by violence, you acquire companions that never leave you entirely: Suspicion, Fear, Anxiety, Despair, Joylessness.
For no one walks the world in armature but must have terror striking at his heart.
Caught baffled by the perplexing slow-release of sadness for ever and ever and ever. Which
garden. I have been defeated,
You drive the landscape like a herd of clouds Moving against your horizontal tower Of steadfast speed. All England lies beneath you like a woman With limbs ravished By one glance carrying all these eyes.
clearly besotted with
One may come armoured, Invinsible. His will immobile meets the mobile hour. The world blows cannot bend this Victor Head. Calm and sure are his steps in the growing night. The goal recedes, he hurries not his pace. He asks from no help from the inferior Gods. His eyes are fixed on the immutable aim.
Magnificent, magnificent desolation.
The music became a siren song. The melody was my lodestone, and I was powerless against its lure. With each step, I savored the dampness of the grass beneath my bare feet. I didn't remember when I'd lost my shoes.