Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ

“I wear a necklace of hope with pearly beads. When I met you, it broke, and the beads spilled all over the floor, into the gutters.”
― Karen Quan, Write like no one is reading

“THE OLD MAN IN THE CORNER

The man in the corner
Is dying with words
He's crying to be heard
His days are marked
And his only ears are birds
He knows the secret to peace
And his experience bleeds and hurts
Somebody stop and listen
Before he departs the earth!
Somebody write his thoughts
Before he hits the turf!
His eyes are closing their shutters
And he just dropped his
Beads and stick.
His breath is leaving us.
Please!
Somebody hear him out quick!
A little girl rushes to him and
Picks up his cane of wood.
The old man then turns to her
And faintly whispers,
"The key to peace is
To always stay fair
And be good.”
― Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem

“Overheard on a Saltmarsh"

Nymph, nymph, what are your beads?

Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them?

Give them me.
No.

Give them me. Give them me.
No.

Then I will howl all night in the reeds,
Lie in the mud and howl for them.

Goblin, why do you love them so?

They are better than stars or water,
Better than voices of winds that sing,
Better than any man's fair daughter,
Your green glass beads on a silver ring.

Hush, I stole them out of the moon.

Give me your beads, I want them.
No.

I will howl in the deep lagoon
For your green glass beads, I love them so.
Give them me. Give them.
No.”
― Harold Monro, Collected poems;

“The instant that you forget about the consequences of your actions on other people, is the moment that you are about to lose your humanity. We all are related, no matter, what skin color, sexual orientation, gender or religion we hold. We all like rosary beads. Our existence is depended to the rest, if one bead falls apart, the rest of us will do too. Our humanity defines by how we accept, respect and support each other, otherwise we are simply a bunch of animals acting according to our instinct and killing one another to survive.”
― Kambiz Shabankare

“We just have to sort through the junk. You know, like organising a jumbled box of beads. All we have to do is put each piece in its proper place, and we'll be able to see what we have.”
― Janice Peacock, High Strung

“Zoe had dressed up for their meeting with Dr. Marriott in a long Indian skirt stitched with beads and tiny mirrors, a T-shirt embossed with CAT WOMAN STRIKES AGAIN! and a short-sleeved pink hoodie. To top it off, she wore a bracelet made from typewriter keys. She was sure Dr. Marriott would love it, seeing as typewriters were right up his alley.”
― Christine Brodien-Jones, The Glass Puzzle

“The string of bright beads, he had told her, were to remind her of the twenty brightest days they had spent together, and a promise of twenty more, and then twenty more, infinitely. Even in old age she would be able to call to mind the sound of the word "infinitely", the music it made, coloured by the slight Irish accent in his mouth - a word that whether shouted, sung, or spoken, sounded always like a tender whisper.”
― Jane Urquhart

“Nicasia saunters over to where the smith is sitting. She wears a dress of purple that is peacock blue when it catches the light. Her hair is woven in to a braid that circles her head, and at her brow is a chain from which dangle dozens upon dozens of beads in sparkling purples and blues and amber.”
― Holly Black, The Wicked King

“I'll bet you already have many of the materials on hand to create these projects. How do I know? Well, I'm a crafter and I've got a bead stash, too. Doesn't everyone?”
― Terry Taylor, A Very Beaded Christmas: 45 Projects That Glitter, Twinkle & Shine