The sky blue strengthens slowly, the dawn light rosy and pale the summer song of our romance begin to unveil...with every heart beat and the waves' breath...the time stood in harmony still. Your morning kiss my hands could feel...by your lips soft, so warm, so very gentle, nice and full of life...

~ Oksana Rus

Oksana Rus Art Artist Beat Breath Couple Dawn Evening Every Feel Full Gentle Hands Harmony Healing Heart Kiss Life Light Lips Live Love Loving Morning My Nice Oksana Rus Pale Poem Romance Rose Rosy Sky Slow Slowly Soft Song Spirit Spiritual Stand Still Stood Story Straight Summer Time Unveiled Veil Warm Wave

To love at a distance and without hope; never to possess; to dream chastely of pale charms and impossible kisses extinguished on the waxen brow of death: ah, that is something like it. A delicious straying away from the world, and never the return. As only the unreal is not ignoble and empty, existence must be admitted to be abominable. Yes, imagination is the only good thing which heaven vouchsafes to the skeptic and pessimist, alarmed by the eternal abjectness of life.

~ Joris-Karl Huysmans

Joris-Karl Huysmans Abject Abjectness Abominable Charms Chaste Chastity Death Distance Dream Empty Emptyness Eternal Existence Heaven Hope Hopelessness Ignoble Imagination Kiss Kisses Life Love Pale Pessimism Pessimist Possess Skeptic Skepticism Unreal World

Tthe thing is, Dr. Foster…the truth is, I like Marina.” He eyed the doctor. “And I actually don’t like you very much.”Oh, it was worth it. God, it was worth it. To see the perennially calm face turn pale, only slightly, but still pale; to see him blink away the hurt in his watery, pallid blue eyes.

~ Amelia Mangan

Amelia Mangan Appointment Asylum Blue Dislike Doctor Emotion Eyes Hatred Hurt Like Pale Pallid Psychiatry Psychology Rude

He looked like some plant bleached by darkness.

~ Honoré De Balzac

Honoré De Balzac Balzac Darkness Depression Pale Plant

They talked on into the early morning, the high, pale cast of light in the windows, and they did not think of leaving.

~ Raymond Carver

Raymond Carver Acceptance Grief Leaving Light Loss Morning Pain Pale Talk Windows

Oh deep winter snow, pale executioner, thou who delights in a slow, torturous death.

~ T.r. Neff

T.r. Neff Falconer Pale Winter Wolf

It was one of those things they keep in a jar in the tent of a sideshow on the outskirts of a little, drowsy town. One of those pale things drifting in alcohol plasma, forever dreaming and circling, with its peeled, dead eyes staring out at you and never seeing you. It went with the noiselessness of late night, and only the crickets chirping, the frogs sobbing off in the moist swampland. One of those things in a big jar that makes your stomach jump as it does when you see a preserved arm in a laboratory vat.

~ Ray Bradbury

Ray Bradbury Alcohol Drifting Jar Jars Noiselessness Pale Peeled Plasma Preserved Swampland Vat

It is not these well-fed long-haired men that I fear, but the pale and the hungry-looking.

~ Julius Caesar

Julius Caesar Men Pale