Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Flakes. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Flakes Quotes And Sayings by 97 Authors including David Foster Wallace,Emma Healey,John Geddes,Jen Jones,Chuck Klosterman for you to enjoy and share.
your huge blocks of industrial ice packed in fragrant sawdust, the huge blocks of man-sized ice with flaws way inside like trapped white faces, white flames of internal cracks.
grass is slightly frosty and I enjoy hearing it crunch
The wet brush of snowflakes was like your kisses everywhere ...
I want sprinkles.
The falling flakes were random and without purpose; the snow was drunker than she was.
Hey, Noah?"
"Yes?" he says sweetly.
"Why do you call me Snowflake?"
He steps closer and runs one finger along my cheek, making my skin tingle in its wake. "Because you're just like a snowflake. Beautiful and unique, and with one touch you'll be wet.
A light snow, a snow so faint and small-bodied that it seems nothing more than a manifestation of the cold.
Look up at the miracle of the falling snow, - the air a dizzy maze of whirling, eddying flakes, noiselessly transforming the world, the exquisite crystals dropping in ditch and gutter, and disguising in the same suit of spotless livery all objects upon which they fall.
The smallest snowstorm on record took place an hour ago in my back yard. It was approximately two flakes. I waited for more to fall, but that was it. The entire storm was two flakes.
Look at his face. I bet his cornflakes try to crawl out of the bowl.
I thought, how magical, the first glimspe of snow. By March I would be sick of it, but here in this November instant those tiny flakes swirled with the unspeakable purity of a divine gift.
Shannon smiled. "It's snowing. Just a light snow, but look." In that moment, she felt like the snowflakes were angels on wings, and she had witnessed a miracle of nature.
There is not one pink flower, or even fifty pink flowers, but hundreds. Snowflakes, of course, are the ultimate exercise in sheer creative glee. No two alike. This creator looks suspiciously like someone who just might send us support for our creative ventures.
Tired of dancing on a pot of gold flake paint
a handful of crumpled stars
If he was wood, he was a flail, and I was grain on the threshing floor.
I was a thousand grains, my thoughts blown like chaff. All that was left was the taste of salt.
They say that there can never be two snowflakes that are exactly alike, but has anyone checked lately?
If flurries be the food of quests, snow on.
Fluke me, Murdstone.
It was a cold, bleak December morning in Alaska, a place so far north on planet Earth that if there were such things as popsicle people, they could live there quite comfortably.
crystals that stung your
An avalanche is just a snowflake that got pissed off.
Do you know what breakfast cereal is made of? It's made of all those little curly wooden shavings you find in pencil sharpeners!
If have got my spindle and my distaff ready
my pen and mind
never doubting for an instant that God will send me flax.
Through the sharp air a flaky torrent flies, Mocks the slow sight, and hides the gloomy skies; The fleecy clouds their chilly bosoms bare, And shed their substance on the floating air.
No doubt, the flakes of snow falling over him carried ashen nuclei. John tried to concentrate on those tiny flecks of carbon at the center of each snowflake. He tried to think of their elemental futures. Perhaps a hundred thousand years from now they would become tiny diamonds.
In beauty faults conspicuous grow; The smallest speck is seen on snow.
The frolic architecture of the snow.
Frosties are just Cornflakes for people who can't face reality.
Memories
fall
like
snowflakes
upon
my dreams.
The snowflakes
toss and tumble,
each different
and yet
the same.
Many of the snowflakes, he had told her, were tiny elves who kissed your face with icy lips before melting on your warm skin.
Snowflakes of ash fell so lovelily you were tempted to stretch out your tongue to catch them, taste them. Only, they would have scorched your lips. They would have cooked your mouth. Clearly,
It looks like frozen snot.
Actual creativeness is a matter of moments. One has to piece together the minute grains to make a lump. And it is so easy to miss the momentary flashes, it is like sluicing in placer mining. He who lets the flakes float by has nothing to show for his trouble.
The detritus of animal and plant life that had died miles above. It fell steadily through each zone of the ocean, down and down, shredding into flakes, leached of pigment until it became bone white. A snow of death.
A fine silver rain, like cobwebs falling.
He filled a bowl with cereal that looked like twigs a squirrel had pooped out.
Winds shook me apart piecemeal, flung a bone here, a bone there. My eyes became snow, my hair turned to ice; I heard it chime against my shoulders like wind-blown glass. If I spoke, words would fall from me like snow, pour out of me like black wind.
The omelette tasted like flannel.
It's just snow," Lesa said, rolling her eyes. "It's not going to hurt you."
Kimmy smoothed her hands over her blond hair. "Sugar melts."
"Yeah, and shit floats." Lesa took her seat, yanking out last night's English homework.
Give winter nothing; hold; and let the flake
Poise or dissolve along your upheld arms.
All flawless hexagons may melt and break;
While you must feel the summer's rage of fire,
Beyond this frigid season's empty storms.
Banished to bloom, and bear the birds' desire.
Night falls fast.
Today is in the past.
Blown from the dark hill hither to my door
Three flakes, then four
Arrive, then many more.
Cloudiness what is cloudiness, is it a lining, is it a roll, is it melting.
As tiny silver flakes drifted down to settle on our bodies
Both the living and the dead
I thought perhaps the moon had hidden her face from us, as full of sorrow as we were. But she couldn't stop her tears from spilling out in the form of silent snow.
This is beautifully expressed in the Zen saying The snow falls, each flake in its appropriate place.
Winds with little fishhooks at the end of every gust.
The universe now appeared to me as a void wherein floated rare flakes of snow, each flake a universe.
Shards flew everywhere, slicing her hands, her forearm, and cascading to the floor like snow glistening on a winter morning.
It is good here: rustle and snow-crunch ...
Ski tracks on the splendid finery
of the snow; a memory
that long ages ago
we passed here together.
They can crumble as easily as ice cream in this heat
It was April in Minneapolis and snowing, the flakes coming down in thick swirls enchanting the city
Come, ye cold winds, at January's call, On whistling wings, and with white flakes bestrew The earth.
All that Canada air coming south and turning us into Popsicles." She
Old & New put their stamp to everything in Nature. The snowflake that is now falling is marked by both. The present moment gives the motion & the color of the flake: Antiquity, its form & properties. All things wear a luster which is the gift of the present & a tarnish of time.
in mushy, wet oatmeal. "Are
How do we know for sure that no two snowflakes are the same - we haven't got anybody watching.
Never was a cornflake girl;
Thought it was a good solution: hanging with the raisin girls.
I wish i could press snowflakes in a book like flowers.
We all think we're snowflakes, but we're Tinker Toys, held together by our interchangeable parts. (39)
Christmas; magnificent snowflakes snowing in your hope.
Find time to admire and appreciate the glittering lights on snowflakes.
Holy cheesy fuckballs!
On a soft snow, even a sparrow leaves a trace; the important thing is to leave a trace on a steel plate!
It is nearly an insoluble pancake, a conundrum of inscrutable potentialities, a snorter.
My little cup brims with tiddles.
When I was a child, I used to eat sugar Frosted Flakes with chocolate milk, but I digest, I mean digress.
Wake up to a hearty, lip-smacking bowlful of nutritious, nourishing Ubik toasted flakes, the adult cereal that's more crunchy, more tasty, more ummmish. Ubik breakfast cereal, the whole-bowl taste treat!
The snow ... came in thick tufts like new wool - washed before the weaver spins it.
Tears. They're like seeds in a watermelon. Good for spitting out.
It has started to snow. We all ran out when it began, and played at catching flakes as we used to when we were children. But it was cold, and our boots and gloves and cloaks were soon wet - you feel these things more when you are grown-up.
The words issuing from her lips like crumbs of dry biscuit.
Lips like rosebuds peeping out of snow.
Flurries early, pristine and pearly. Winter's come calling! Can we endure so premature a falling? Some may find this trend distressing- others bend to say a blessing over sage and onion dressing.
Dust motes swirled in the air like tiny orbs of rainbows.
My bones are like cubes of ice clinking together, chilling me to my core.
was like a crystal bowl filled with warm kettle corn. But when you lifted it up and checked the bottom, you could see a layer of burnt, unpopped kernels. The kind that makes you flinch from the unexpected bitter taste. The kind that may cause you to chip a tooth.
The freezing rain sifts down, handfuls of shining rice thrown by some unseen celebrant. Wherever it hits, it crystallizes into a granulated coating of ice.
Crap on a stick.
Val was eating cornflakes. She ate very little else, at home. They were light, they were pleasant, they were comforting, and then after a day or two they were like cotton wool.
A snowflake falls, so tenderly on your lips, I have learned to love this winter.
Snow floated down every once in a while, but it was frail snow, like a memory fading into the distance.
These aren't cupcake sprinkles.
The ice tinkles prettily: There's no more inviting sound to her, it's sophistication, like a British accent or that call-and-response of high-heeled shoes on tile.
His hands were tingling and he was sweating under falling snowflakes.
rolling eye balls
Broken glass. It's just like glitter, isn't it?
I pulled a packet of Cold Flake from my pocket. "Cliff, you're a marvel. Will you have a cigarette?" "It 'ud be like givin' a pig a strawberry," the little man replied,
Each snowflake in an avalanche pleads not guilty.
Is it nice, my preciousss? Is it juicy? Is it scrumptiously crunchable?
Snowflakes fall from high.
Flurries lift and twirl below.
The world has turned white.
Evanescent like ice that is melting away;
Around her ribs and waist were curves of the kind that wind carves in snowdrifts.
Snow. White, white, white, soft and clean, and maddening shapes, with the whole world in them.
It's as if the whole world was fire and crystal and aquiver
with some sort of cotton wrappers thrown over it."
"Dust sheets," said Marjorie. "I know.
The sky drops silver threads of sleet.
snow is overused.
It's hard to beat the rough texture of steel-cut oats, with their slight resistance against the teeth.
rectangular slab of mincemeat that everyone, including the servers, referred to as baked turd.
She had never seen snow before, except in TV shows and movies. It had looked to her like the stars were flaking out of the sky. It had looked like thousands of fireflies in the moonlight; like breathlessness, like time stopping, like the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
Never has my flabber been so completely gasted.