欧宝娱乐

“At one time, most of my friends could hear the bell, but as years passed, it fell silent for all of them. Even Sarah found one Christmas that she could no longer hear its sweet sound. Though I've grown old, the bell still rings for me, as it does for all who truly believe.”
― Chris Van Allsburg, The Polar Express

“The great miraculous bell of translucent ice is suspended in mid-air.

It rings to announce endings and beginnings. And it rings because there is fresh promise and wonder in the skies.

Its clear tones resound in the placid silence of the winter day, and echo long into the silver-blue serenity of night.

The bell can only be seen at the turning of the year, when the days wind down into nothing, and get ready to march out again.

When you hear the bell, you feel a tug at your heart.

It is your immortal inspiration.”
― Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration

“Once bitten twice shy? Sure, but... why not get a bigger dog and bite them back?”
― A.A. Bell , Hindsight

“Nice piano," I said. "Do you play?"
"oh no, but Edwart does!" Eva Mullen said.
"A little," Edwart said sheepishly.
"Go ahead, play!" Eva said. She picked up the triangle that was lying on the piano and handed it to Edwart. He started banging on it. It sounded like construction work very early in the morning.
"Whoops. I messed up. Let me start over," he said.
He started banging again.
"Wait. Uh. I haven't practiced in a while. Let me start over."
Edwart continued to bang the triangle. Eva closed her eyes and raised her arms, swaying rhythmically to Edwart's music. Edwart held the triangle up high, in what appeared to be a grand finish, but then he brought it down hard, hitting the top of the piano. He continued to bang the piano, putting the entire force of his slim body into each smash. The piano shook. The room vibrated. When he finished I subtly removed my hands from my ears.
"I wrote that for you," Edwart murmured, drawing me close. "It's called Belle's Lullaby.”
― The Harvard Lampoon, Nightlight: A Parody

“If you really want to be different, you'd better keep quiet and be a good person on the inside.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson, The Book of Maxims, Poems and Anecdotes

“He could not believe that any of them might actually hit somebody. If one did, what a nowhere way to go: killed by accident; slain not as an individual but by sheer statistical probability, by the calculated chance of searching fire, even as he himself might be at any moment. Mathematics! Mathematics! Algebra! Geometry! When 1st and 3d Squads came diving and tumbling back over the tiny crest, Bell was content to throw himself prone, press his cheek to the earth, shut his eyes, and lie there. God, oh, God! Why am I here? Why am I here? After a moment's thought, he decided he better change it to: why are we here. That way, no agency of retribution could exact payment from him for being selfish.”
― James Jones, The Thin Red Line

“All that coastline we've been sailing pas is it, but I guess back in the Roman times it was called ... what'd you say, Jason? Bodacious?'
'Dalmatia', Nico said, making Jason jump.
Holy Romulus ... Jason wished he could put a bell around Nico di Angelo's neck to remind him the guy was there.
Nico has this disturbing habit of standing silently in the corner, blending into the shadows.”
― Rick Riordan, The House of Hades

“Far away in the cool dim empty rooms of the big old house, a silver bell tinkled and faded.”
― Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine

“It is almost startling to hear this warning of departed time sounding among the tombs, and telling the lapse of the hour, which, like a billow, has rolled us onward towards the grave.”
― Washington Irving, The Sketch Book

“The eyes and the faces all turned themselves towards me, and guiding myself by them, as by a magical thread, I stepped into the room.”
― Sylvia Plath

“Send not to know
For whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.”
― John Donne, Devotions upon Emergent Occasions

“Your name still rings a bell when you say something good, not by causing catastrophe in a bid to sound more interesting.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson

“You rang my heart like a church bell at midnight. Trembling, I awoke to the sweet sound of love.”
― John Mark Green

“It is impossible to stop cadence. A bell rings long after the clapper hits the cup.”
― Steven James Taylor, the dog

“When, sometime later, Laurel asked about the bell, her mother replied calmly that how good a bell was depended on the distance away your children had gone.”
― Eudora Welty, The Optimist's Daughter

“Feminist movement is pro-family.”
― Bell Hooks

“Found in trees. Sometimes also in old silent movie theaters, seaside zoos, magic shops, hat shops, time-travel shops, topiary gardents, cowboy boots, castle turrets, comet museums, dog pounds, mermaid ponds, dragon lairs, library stacks (the ones in the back), piles of leaves, piles of pancakes, the belly of a fiddle, the bell of a flower, or in the company of wild herds of typewriters.
But mostly in trees.”
― Michelle Cuevas, Confessions of an Imaginary Friend

“Pavlov鈥檚 dogs will drool at the site of any food,
So go ahead and ring the bell,
Sing a classical song about it and
Then advertises what sells”
― Charmaine J Forde

“He discovered another bell, huge as well, but not plain and bare. Its metal sides were covered in scenes, bas-reliefs spreading their greenish lace over the bronze dress. Its casting mould must have been as complicated as the plate for an etching. From a distance Borluut could make out figures, hazy scenes, but the bell was too high above to make out precisely what they represented. Seized with curiosity, he found a pair of stepladders and climbed up until he was close to them. The bronze was a wild orgy, a drunken, obscene carnival; naked satyrs and women were swirling round the bell, its curve giving movement to their saraband.

At intervals couples had tumbled to the ground, piling up, body against body, mouth to mouth, flesh mingling in the fury of desire. The bronze picked out, emphasized the details... The vine of sin with its feverish fancies, clinging, thrusting up, falling back down the sides - and the breasts plundered like bunches of grapes!

Here and there, away from the rest, on a curve of the bell far from the stampede of the dance, were lovers silently enjoying their love like a fruit. They looked as if they were each, through the other, discovering their naked flesh, which was not yet ripe for sensual pleasure. The idyllic retreats apart, Sex was everywhere triumphant, howling cynical.”
― Georges Rodenbach, The Bells of Bruges

“Polly had a sound. It came from the necklace she always wore: a long silver chain, from which she'd hung two pendants---one fine and shaped like a jacaranda tree, the other a sterling silver cat. The jacaranda tree had been a gift, and the cat had come from a secondhand shop; it had once been the top of a baby's rattle, Polly said, back in the olden days, a "hey diddle diddle" cat with a ball inside that made a soft tinkle whenever she walked. Jess loved that sound. It always made her feel safe and warm and happy.”
― Kate Morton, Homecoming

“ Dong.
Dong.
Dong.
The third toll of the church bells hovered in the air, and everything became still. Someone in the village had died. Valerie froze.
Dong.
A forth toll shattered the silence. The world split open, exposing a raw inside.
Valerie and Peter looked at each other first in confusion, then in awful understanding.
The fourth bell meant only one thing: Wolf attack.
She had never heard the fourth bell except for the time she and Peter had rung it themselves.
With those bells, Valerie knew.
Life would never be the same,”
― Sarah Blakley-Cartwright, Red Riding Hood

“She hated religion as much as she loved its architecture. She detested the pomposity of its spiritual leaders, be they Muslim, Christian or Jews. Whenever she spoke to them, she was outraged by their confident certainty that they were right and all others were wrong, their self-righteousness, haughtiness and aggrandizement. The art and architecture of religion had been amongst mankind's finest achievements, but its inspiration had brought destruction to countless millions. Even the ancient artefacts she'd personally uncovered in the desert, monuments to humanity's earliest attempts to come to terms with spiritual explanations for natural phenomena, had been exquisite, but etched into their stone or marble were the blood and bones of those who believed differently.”
― Alan Gold, Bell of the Desert

“Nous venions de franchir toutes les barri猫res, nous n鈥櫭﹖ions plus un pr锚tre et sa p茅nitente, plus Tyler et Poppy, mais simplement un homme et une femme tels que Dieu nous avait faits, Adam et 脠ve, dans leurs formes les plus 茅l茅mentaires et fondamentales. Nous 茅tions la cr茅ation incarn茅e et je sentais qu鈥檈lle partageait cette impression, que, d鈥檜ne certaine fa莽on, nous ne faisions qu鈥檜n. De mani猫re irr茅vocable et ind茅niable, je m鈥櫭﹖ais an茅anti en elle et elle en moi.”
― Sierra Simone, Priest

“I tied my soul to the tide of the sea
to see if my death bell was tolled by the whale
since I was told to wail.
He wished to create a son of the sun
I needed to know if he could ever say no
when I wanted to soar with him in my sore need

From the poem - From the Ferry of My Fairytale”
― Munia Khan, To Evince the Blue

“The extreme wealth of American big business is the direct result of school having trained us in certain attitudes like a craving for novelty. That鈥檚 what the bells are for. They don鈥檛 ring so much as to say ,"Now for something different".”
― John Taylor Gatto, The Underground History of American Education: An Intimate Investigation Into the Prison of Modern Schooling

“She wasn't used to having backup; of all the many resources her prodigious mind was capable of accessing, help wasn't one of them. She was used to doing things on her own.”
― Liz Braswell, As Old as Time

“Prythian. The word was a death knell that echoed through me again and again.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“Life is a bell貙 how you ring it's sound going to come back to you.”
― Kamaran Ihsan Salih

“Play the role of a bell of mindfulness. Your squeezing the hand is like a bell, lovingly calling your friend back to himself. That squeeze means, "I am here for you, you don't need to do anything but breathe.”
― Thich Nhat Hanh, No Mud, No Lotus: The Art of Transforming Suffering

“Laugh now, and laugh hard. For laughter is the bell. And when it rings, it cleanses the air.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson, These Words Pour Like Rain