Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Railing. 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 Railing Quotes And Sayings by 99 Authors including Suzanne Vega,William Wordsworth,Kenneth Grahame,H.p. Lovecraft,Julian Barnes for you to enjoy and share.
The beams and bridges cut the light on the ground into little triangles and the rails run round
Bright was the summer's noon when quickening steps
Followed each other till a dreary moor
Was crossed, a bare ridge clomb, upon whose top
Standing alone, as from a rampart's edge,
I overlooked the bed of Windermere,
Like a vast river, stretching in the sun.
Hauled up our wine-casks, and hove them overboard, tied one to the other by a long line. Then the crew took to the boats and rowed shorewards, singing as they went, and drawing after them the long bobbing procession of casks, like
having been jostled by a nautical-looking negro who had come from one of the queer dark courts on the precipitous hillside which formed a short cut from the waterfront to the deceased's home
A pier is a disappointed bridge; yet stare at it for long enough and you can dream it to the other side of the Channel.
But who can resist the seductions of elevators these days, those stepping stones to Heaven, which make relentless verticality so alluring?
When my way is too rough for my feet, or too steep for my strength, I get off it to some smooth velvet path which fancy has scattered over with rosebuds of delights; and, having taken a few turns in it, come back strengthened and refreshed.
I can never tire of speaking of the bridges of Paris. By day and by night have I paused on them to gaze at their views; the word not being too comprehensive for the crowds and groupings of objects that are visible from their arches.
The enemy's gate is down.
But after awhile you stand up, wipe the frost out of your ear, go someplace to get warm, bum a nickel for coffee, and then start walkin' toward somewheres else that ain't near no bridge.
... one of those terrifying rows where suddenly an end you never thought would come rears up in front of you, like a cliff edge you weren't aware of.
This tower, patched unevenly with black ivy, arose like a mutilated finger from among the fists of knuckled masonry and pointed blasphemously at heaven. At night the owls made of it an echoing throat; by day it stood voiceless and cast its long shadow.
The Looming Tower.
I was on the abutment.
Thin rays of orange creep up Tower Bridge and I realize I have never seen the sunrise from here. I had no idea that it could rise, almost perfectly, between the two towers of the bridge. This new light is a new day, and Timothy Squire and I watch it together.
A pier is a disappointed bridge.
The cross is the only ladder high enough to touch Heaven's threshold.
The stairway is not
a thing of gleaming strands
a radiant evanescence
for angels' feet that only glance in their tread, and need not
touch the stone.
The Edge ... There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.
Be careful, this is the greatest fencer since the death of the Wizard of Corsica. Do not burgle.
If you build castles in the air, make sure you have a ladder to reach them.
So I walked as day was dawning
Where small birds sang and leaves were falling
Where we once watched the row boats landing
On the broad majestic Shannon
Sittin' here resting my bones, this loneliness won't leave me alone. Two thousand miles I roam, just to make this dock my home. I'm just gon' sit at the dock of the bay, watching the tide roll away. Sittin' on the dock of the bay, wastin' time.
When you were building that all-important stairway to heaven, you couldn't just stand around with your hammer in your hand.
Some men are searching for the Holy Grail, but there ain't nothing sweeter than riding the rail. Pregnant women and Vietnam vets, beggin on the freeway, bout as hard as it gets.
I stepped from plank to plank So slow and cautiously; The stars about my head I felt, About my feet the sea. I knew not but the next Would be my final inch, - This gave me that precarious gait Some call experience.
That imperial guard which poets and humanists mount in relay around any great memory.
The grounds had an iron fence set in a stone knee wall, which was just wide enough for a small person to sit on, and Turner was a small person, and Reacher was used to being uncomfortable.
ON PROBLEMS
Our choicest plans
have fallen through,
our airiest castles
tumbled over,
because of lines
we neatly drew
and later neatly
stumbled over.
The five hundred feet up the square-spiral staircase
The rung of a ladder was never meant to rest upon, but only to hold a man's foot long enough to enable him to put the other somewhat higher.
The gondola of London [a hansom].
This momentary bridge. The wonder of a shared memory, returned. Of a place once theirs and a life that had already been lived.
Newrose, oldrose, Queen Anne's lace. Water, river, stone, and sun. Wind over hill, under tree. Past the border none can see. Climbing into dark for you Will you wait in stars for me? I
From its outside wall half a luggage trolley protruded: platform 93/4 was where the Hogwarts Express docked. River
Of all the names, one is a mistake. One is a nightmare. The stair you miss in the darkness.
a furtive groove
What were you doing up on that ledge?" It comes out a whisper.
"The same thing you were. I wanted to see what it was like. I wanted to imagine jumping off it. I wanted to leave all the shit behind. But when I did start to imagine it, I didn't like what it looked like. And then I saw you.
This is the way to the museyroom. Mind your boots goan out.
weaving his way across
toward the Mount.4
ferry landing, found
A fisherman's walk: three steps and overboard.
My garden is a forest ledge
Which older forest s bound;
The banks slope down to the blue lake-edge,
Then plunge to depths profound!
Letter 84
An elephant with his trunk raised is a ladder to the stars.
A breaching whale is a ladder to the bottom of the sea.
My photographs are a ladder to my dreams.
These letters are ladders to you.
I can't give you the white picket fence, and if I did, you'd set it on fire.
A pedestal is the most insidious prison ever devised.
you're rowing by wordlight
What boots it at one gate to make defence, And at another to let in the foe?
To every bench, as a fixture, there was a chain with heavy anklets. These the hortator proceeded to lock upon the oarsmen, going from number to number, leaving no choice but to obey, and, in event of disaster, no possibility of escape.
We stood as the ground shifted
and we saw the view from below
through tiled floors
and concrete stairs,
our feet burning holes in the foundation
while you whispered of dreams.
In the deep shadow of the porch
A slender bind-weed springs,
And climbs, like airy acrobat,
The trellises, and swings
And dances in the golden sun
In fairy loops and rings.
Walls turned sideways are bridges.
Before the gate
my walking stick's made a river of melting snow
Oh gods, stairs.
Bellport. A podium.
And all those who look down on me I'm tearing down your balcony.
Masterpieces of beauty, craftsmanship, and stability, all erected
A tiny little wooden man [was] slowly ascending the steps to a real set of gallows, both perched on a box that read: Reusable Hangman - Spell It Or He'll Swing!
I knew you were behind the tapestry," he said. "I also knew the railing was about to give way. I was waiting for you, waiting for your fall."
Waiting all my life for you, he added silently, waiting all my life for you to fall in love with me.
What brings the whole back row of the chessboard to my modest little abode?
The high ground is defensible.
Sorry, I don't do castles. I hate those winding turret stairs.
Before the railroad's thin lines of steel bit their way up through the wilderness, Athabasca Landing was the picturesque threshold over which one must step who would enter into the mystery and adventure of the great white North.
He gathers me up and I'm weightless before he sets me on the railing. He's the only thing keeping me from falling back, out of the reach of daylight. I'm not afraid of falling. I don't fear the sky beyond the train tracks like I did before. I can go anywhere just so long as it's with him.
Up on the Brooklyn Bridge a man is standing in agony, waiting to jump, or waiting to write a poem, or waiting for the blood to leave his vessels because if he advances another foot the pain of his love will kill him.
The street curves in and out, up and down in great waves of asphalt; at night the granite tomb is noisy with starlings like the creaking of many axles; only the tired walker know how much there is to climb, how the sidewalk curves into the cold wind.
What signifies the ladder, provided one rise and attain the end?
Those prancing little pants-wetters come here to learn the colorful and gentlemanly art of fencing, with its many sporting limitations and its proscriptions against dishonorable engagements. You on the other hand, you are going to learn how to kill men with a sword.
When levitation fails, a ladder prevails.
People who walk across dark bridges, past saints,
with dim, small lights.
Clouds which move across gray skies
past churches
with towers darkened in the dusk.
One who leans against granite railing
gazing into the evening waters,
His hands resting on old stones.
I climb fences when i got fences to climb.
way onto the train.
It's a half bridge, really, as only four of its original arches remain. It ends midway across the river. Like it reached, tried to reunite with, the other side and fell short.
crowning the ramparts, drawing an uneven star shape around the entire model. She finds the opening atop the walls where four ceremonial cannons point to
This is hell,
but I planned it. I sawed it,
I nailed it, and I
will live in it until it kills me.
I can nail my left palm
to the left-hand crosspiece but
I can't do everything myself.
I need a hand to nail the right,
a help, a love, a you, a wife.
Tonight
A parapet of breeze
tonight on which to lean
my melancholy
I just can't fathom why anyone would stand on a ledge when there's a respectable amount of walking space right next to it.
Was it man's love to screw the sky with monuments span the bay with orange and silver bridges shuttling structure into structure incorruptible in this endless tie each age impassions be it in stone or steel either in echo or halfheard ruin
Praise the bridge that carried you over.
How hard it is to escape from places. However carefully one goes they hold you - you leave little bits of yourself fluttering on the fences - like rags and shreds of your very life.
As long as I live, I will always remember those wee children standing at the railing on that ship. - John Hanlon, the sailor
Those elegant delights of jig and vaulting.
It's a road!"
I patted his back." It's a lovely road. Now which way do we go?"
Corey looked one way, the brown ribbon extending into emptiness. He looked the other way, saw the same thing and his shoulders slumped.
"Damn.
Trust to a plank, draw precarious breath,
At most seven inches from the jaws of death.
I do believe that his given name is something odd. Peregrine, Penrose- Piers, that's it."
"He sounds like a dock." Lord Sundron put in.
"Mrs. Hutchins called me a light frigate this morning," Linnet said "a dock might be just the thing for me.
Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine.
Apart from the cross, there is no other ladder by which we may get to heaven.
For the climber averse to avoidable acrobatics a given niche may lie so many paces or meters to east or west of the woman vanquished without of course his naming her thus or otherwise even in his thoughts.
Out of some subway scuttle, cell or loft
A bedlamite speeds to thy parapets,
Tilting there momently, shrill shirt ballooning,
A jest falls from the speechless caravan.
If the wind doesn't blow...row
On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And through the field the road runs by
To many-towered Camelot.
Fine figure of a young fellow as far northwards as the neck, but above that solid concrete.
This is the echo of the approaching train in ears pressed to the rail.
All the seats were taken, and I had to squeeze into a three-inch slot. I lost my balance when the train pulled away, but a human crumple zone buffered my fall. We stayed like that, half fallen. The Diagonal People.
All rising to a great place is by a winding stair.
Cherie, keep walking. Shut your eyes. We are headed for the bridge. We are going to cross it.
Once the tugboat takes you out to the ocean liner, you got to get all the way on board. Can't straddle both decks.
This barricade is made neither of paving stones, nor of timbers, nor of iron; it is made of two mounds, a mound of ideas and a mound of sorrows. Here misery encounters the ideal. Here the day embraces the night, and says: I will die with you and you will be born again with me.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.