Poetic Sayings Novels & Stories

His brown eyes glowed with despair, and his ripped, patchwork gown bore testament to his tribulations. Xavier's pupils constricted, his gaze fixed on the intriguing man in front of him. Amid the stranger's confusing statements, he sought answers and clarity. "Where is the boy who was once held captive within these prison walls?" He said, his voice stern. With a reflective pause, the man responded with a figurative puzzle. "No raindrop ponders its destined place before it gracefully touches the ground," he said, his words full of profound insight and reflection.

It was a line Ruthie liked to use and one side of my mouth quirked up imagining her saying it. Zander smiled brilliantly, making my pulse leap. I blinked, trying to remember what I was going to say. "Um, it's a rhetorical device that inverts the structure in a sentence or a poem. Like when Alexander Pope said, 'His time a moment, and a point his space.'" Zander's eyes glowed bright blue, glistening in a way that made my heart race even faster. He leaned over and kissed me. When he pulled away, my head was spinning.

You should see hers. He reads it out, in a voice worthy of Television, as though he were standing before an audience. The poet can be poem-less. The writer, word-less And the warrior sword-less. With you, I am not lovel— "Okay, " I say "that's enough for one day.".

Just: the true thing said when it is true, which is the practice we have both made and which means that when it is said it lands without explanation. "I love you," I say. The city hums. *Yes,* it says. *Yes,* I say. *That is exactly right.*

Darius noticed that Emelda was upset and he wished he could take his words back but he couldn’t. There was an adage that was common among the Lakewood elders and it was something that talked about spoken words. The adage said that “your mouth is like an egg and the words in them are the contents inside the egg. The words you speak can be compared to a broken raw egg and once an egg is broken, the contents are spilled. You cannot put them back inside the egg.” That was the adage that went through Darius’s head and he bit his lower lip as if that was the solution.

‘Of course, it’s not her fault. ‘I just enjoy being pampered by her.’ When she noticed him cheering up, she let out a sigh of relief. She stood up and went to lie on a couch. “Ugh, it takes so much effort to coax my hubby. The old saying is right. They said men are the most difficult to coax!” Everett frowned, “Oh, really? Did they really say that?!” “Yes!” Ninian swore, “I should change my name to Old Saying. I’ll write down all these words and make them a sacred heirloom. It’ll become a classic famous saying a thousand years later.”

When you already have another son to call you that - whom you chose to keep beside you instead of me. Mr.Mcmaster sighed audibly and continued with a soft tone," Per un padre ogni figlio è un diamante ( To a father every child is diamond )", "Hai sempre un bel modo di parlare. Non c'è da stupirsi che tu possa gestire tali veleni per tutta la vita ( You always have nice a way of talking. NO wonder you can handle such poison's throughout your life )" Imogen sneered referring to Mrs.Mcmaster.

A good kind of grain felt full and appropriately heavy as she lifted the purse and gave them to Ditiori’s servant. Gai-Dalit took hold of Maga’s small burlap purse. It cowered beside its majestic master. Clenching the grains, the goat-head beast again sang Ditioris’ song. Its snout crooned to the heavens and the stars. Gai-Dalit’s voice was long and pining. “Ego adducam aurum cinis— Instead of ashes, I will bring you gold— Gush forth, north wind! Gush forth south wind!

"She is gifted with thunder. The elements of nature are hers with it, she brings chaos or peace; as danger lurks around, feasting on the souls of the innocent, the world awaits her reign." He opened his eyes and said, “Does that ring a bell?” “What bell?” I asked, still confused. “I am figuratively speaking. What I meant is, do you now understand why I call you 'great one'?” "Nope," I said, shaking my head. “Didn't your parents tell you about it?” he asked. “No, is it that popular? My parents did not tell me about it, but it is a nice poem. You really make a great poet,” I said, giving him a thumbs-up.

--- --- Something chosen. --- Something that didn’t need to prove itself to exist. --- --- Because it already did. --- --- Out loud. --- ---