Descriptive Prose Quotes

“A shaft of moonlight illuminated a row of sentinel silver birch in a phosphorescent glow, appearing almost ethereal in the relative surrounding gloom. Boris had stopped again, his silhouette a stark black juxtaposition against the background of illuminated branches.”
― R.D. Ronald, The Elephant Tree

“Blood began to flow, at first cautiously, as if embarrassed by its appearance; a few thin red lines exploring the gravitational trajectory of its new terrain. Now it flowed faster, steadily staining her pale flesh a horrific red.”
― R.D. Ronald, The Zombie Room

“He dropped the phone back onto its cradle, began to turn around and felt a sudden ice-cold furrow open up in his side. Strength drained from his legs, and a moment later he sank to his knees. There was warmth now that ran over the initial and persistent cold.

Mohammed was confused, and barely noticed the briefcase being removed from his grip. He heard the click of a cell phone opening, and a soft beeping as a number was dialed.

'The package is in my possession,' a female voice said, and the phone clicked shut.”
― R.D. Ronald, The Zombie Room

“The owner of the Post Office was called Maurice. A sixtyish-year-old with a large red nose that was pebble-dashed with broken capillaries, and a smooth bald head with a fuzz of grey hair around the side like the tide mark on a dirty bath. He had a gruff manner, distrusting eyes and a cough like kicked gravel.”
― R.D. Ronald

“If the onset of wrinkles in middle age were referred to as laughter lines, then to look at him, Scott thought, Twinkle's life must have been hilarious. He had sharp eyes that often seemed to visually contradict the lack of intelligence that could be derived from listening to him talk. There might not be a lot to respect in Twinkle, but Scott liked him. He just didn't want to end up like him.”
― R.D. Ronald, The Elephant Tree

“After a week he was moved to a different wing and into a shared six-by-eight with a grizzled old con called Alf. He had faded tattoos that stained most of the visible skin on his hands, arms and neck a dull blue, sharp eyes and a thick beard that made his mouth look like an axe wound on a bear.”
― R.D. Ronald, The Zombie Room

“Around the outside of the room other beautiful women wearing little or nothing at all flitted between the infatuated, intoxicated men, sometimes luring them away for a private dance. The men would follow obediently, weighed down by lust and credit cards.”
― R.D. Ronald, The Zombie Room

“The blast of hot air lifted Tazeem from his feet and threw him onto his back in the road. He blinked up into the night sky; raindrops glowed orange as they fell towards the earth.”
― R.D. Ronald, The Zombie Room

“The bar staff and croupiers all wore black with the same green triangle logo emblazoned on their shirts, and contact lenses which made their eyes shine an eerie, vibrant green. The bar optics glowed with the same green light, the intensity of which was linked to the music. As the bartender walked away to fetch the drinks, a breakdown in the techno track commenced and the bottles began to palpitate. The bartender's eyes glowed with a hallucinatory felinity that made Mangle feel nervous.”
― R.D. Ronald, The Zombie Room

“How strange and abandoned and unsettled I am. Like a snowdome paper weight that's been shaken. There's a blizzard in my bubble. Everything in my world that was steady and sure and sturdy has been shaken out of place, and it's now drifting and swirling back down in a confetti of debris. (p30)”
― Craig Silvey, Jasper Jones

“...because of the foulness of her mother's emotional river, a current which ran swift, changing its path without warning...”
― Tamara Rose Blodgett

“Here she was, harboring this pulsating lump of hatred burning in her stomach that had only gotten hotter and hotter in the years she had been robbed of a confrontation, an explanation, and yet still she did not have the courage to sink her knife right into Roma's chest, to get revenge in the only way she knew how.”
― Chloe Gong, These Violent Delights

“Her shoes were comfortable. They reflected her hope for the evening.”
― William Peter Blatty, The Exorcist

“The moon hung heavy over the lake like an overripe orange, trickling its golden stream of light across inky depths.”
― Julie Lessman, A Passion Denied

“..."I could see tongues of dense fog licking over the ridge in the distance, where this world ended and the next one began, cold, damp, and sunless.”
― Ransom Riggs, Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children

“Somewhere deep inside, his humanity had been shaken by something so unnatural, so foreign in its essence, his very being withdrew from it...”
― Tamara Rose Blodgett, Death Weeps

“His skin was blotched as a dying banana.”
― David Mitchell, Black Swan Green

“Even as winter comes, mornings are crisp, and the big, blue sky seems to hang newly washed over the sea of hills.”
― Deborah Lawrenson, The Lantern

“Night came early to this neighborhood, the sun fleeing the sky, leaving heaven black and blue.”
― Lisa Scottoline, Look Again

“The chairs - turned towards one another in groups of twos and threes - seemed like the seats of ghosts in close conversation with one another. There were sets of two chairs - very close to one another - in the far corners of the room, which spoke of recent whispered flirtations, over cold game pie and iced champagne; there were sets of three and four chairs, that recalled pleasant animated discussions over the latest scandals; there were chairs straight up in a row that still looked starchy, critical, acid, like antiquated dowagers; there were a few isolated, single chairs, close to the table, that spoke of gourmands intent on the most recherche dishes, and others overturned on the floor, that spoke volumes on the subject of my Lord Grenville's cellars.”
― Baroness Emmuska Orczy, Scarlet Pimpernel Vol. 1: The Scarlet Pimpernel / I Will Repay / The Elusive Pimpernel

“The vampire moved as a unit, talons extended, fangs sprung free of their houses of flesh.

They came to where the delectable smell of fresh blood was released. A quality without compare. It was as if a thousand year old bottle of wine lay breathing.

On a cold stone floor, but paces away from consumption.”
― Tamara Rose Blodgett, Blood Singers

“[T]welve year old Libby O'Shea coasted on a homemade swing, toes touching a blinding-blue heaven dolloped with clouds.”
― Julie Lessman, A Passion Denied

“Some scents sparkle and then quickly disappear, like the effervescence of ctirus zestor a bright note of mint.”
― Deborah lawrenson

“A bruised silence descended on the van.”
― Hillary Jordan, When She Woke

“A sad angel with gentle feminine hands, as red as those of a peasant woman, with lips perfumed with honey, tobacco and green tea.”
― Simone de Beauvoir

“Me acuerdo de las primeras noches otoñales y de mis primeras inquietudes en la casa, avivadas con ellas. De las noches de invierno con sus húmedas melancolías: el crujido de una silla rompiendo el sueño y el escalofrío de los nervios al encontrar dos pequeños ojos luminosos —los ojos del gato— clavados en los míos. En aquellas heladas horas hubo algunos momentos en que la vida rompió delante de mis ojos todos sus pudores y apareció desnuda, gritando intimidades tristes, que para mí eran sólo espantosas. Intimidades que la mañana se encargaba de borrar, como si nunca hubieran existido...”
― Carmen Laforet, Nada

“...afundo-me na terra de carne, sangue e fogo, até o cérebro sentir, ao fundo, cada vez mais perto, ao seu redor, uma emanação de dor opiácea, que se mostra e esconde, como o lume num isqueiro gasto que procuro acender. Sacolejando-me, procuro o ponto de ignição, vem coisa imaterial ao redor de mim, vem, e há um instante em que agarro essa névoa por um braço, perna, um farrapo, a agarro toda, a puxo com força, a seguro, tenho-a, prendo-a, e, mantendo-a, deixo-a rebentar no momento em que cruza inteira o tamanho do meu corpo, não sei em que direção, vai, não sei quem sou, não pertenço a lugar algum, sexo e cérebro são uma esfera de luz-prata na qual nos suspendemos por segundos, não mais, cegos, só dor luminosa no lugar do nada, ópio que não pode durar mais ou morremos, e está a ir, os restos tornam-se mais fracos, acaba, agora só a carne usada, dormente, deixando-nos moles, esgotados, humanos de novo, ofegantes, os dois corações pulsando um contra o outro, cada um em seu peito, ignorantes.”
― Isabela Figueiredo, A Gorda

“Wilbur winced. His hand burned. Black blood abandoned his flesh.”
― Cedric Ennis, Eyes of the Watcher

“The torch fell into the pool, the fire was put out, and some bubbles formed, then burst. But, not long after the scent of charcoal wafted through the air, a tiny flame appeared on the surface of the pool. All the fluids underneath it became sticky and black. Soon, the fire spread toward the corners of the room, to the walls, past the pipes.”
― Cedric Ennis, Eyes of the Watcher

“Un hombre así tiene una doble existencia: puede padecer desgracias, y verse arrollado por el desencanto; pero, cuando se encierra en sí mismo, será como un espíritu celeste rodeado de un halo cuyo círculo no pueda atravesar ni el pesar ni la locura.”
― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein