Henry Austin Dobson Quotes

I have angel wings and a halo on my wrist, which I got done on my 30th birthday in memory of my brother.

I don't like vampires personally. I don't know any.

I dream of flight, not to be as the angels are, but to rise above the smallness of it all. The smallnesss that I am. Against the daily death the iconography of wings.

What is it?" she asked. "I'm looking for your wings. You are my guardian angel, aren't you?" "I'm afraid not," she replied, her cheeks dimplingwith a wry smile. "There's too much of the devil in me for that." "Just how much devil," I grinned, "are we talking about here?

Use absolutely no pressure. Just like an angel's wing.

When angels visit us, we do not hear the rustle of wings, nor feel the feathery touch of the breast of a dove; but we know their presence by the love they create in our hearts.

It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw, But rather a garden forever in bloom and a flock of angels forever in flight.

A baby is an angel whose wings decrease as his legs increase.

A corner draft fluttered the flame And the white fever of temptation Upswept its angel wings that cast A cruciform shadow.

Do you know how pale & wanton thrillful comes death on a strange hour unannounced, unplanned for like a scaring over-friendly guest you've brought to bed Death makes angels of us all & gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as raven's claws

What if I'm an angel without wings to take me home?

I feel ruefully sure, also, that one must be at least one sort of fool to rush in over ground so well trodden by the angels.

I feel like role models today are not meant to be put on a pedestal. But more like angels with broken wings.

Death is terrible, tho' borne on angels' wings!

Let's just say I'm like a ship passing through storms, resting in ports now and then until it's time to continue the journey. I once told a friend, 'I'm just looking for an angel with a broken wing - one that couldn't fly away.'

If I am an angel, paint me with black wings.

There are temptations more attractive than angels. Liberty, Patriotism, the good of humanity – words like that are the silver scales of the Tempter’s flaming wings

The function of the wing is to take what is heavy and raise it up in the region above.

They say the blues is sad, but when B.B. sings 'I got a sweet little angel, I love the way she spreads her wings,' that don't sound too sad to me!

I'm no angel, but I've spread my wings a bit.

The angel of death has been abroad throughout the land; you may almost hear the beating of his wings.

How's the Angel of Death supposed to do his job with clipped wings?

This is how one pictures the angel of history. His face is turned toward the past. Where we perceived a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe which keeps piling wreckage and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such violence that the angel can no longer close them. This storm irresistably propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward. The storm is what we call progress.