Hoarder Quotes
Quotes tagged as "hoarder"
Showing 1-5 of 5
“But there was so much that one had to pretend not to see the incredible clutter that threatened to overtake the entire flat save for those few narrow paths that the old man moved on; the acrid odor of dirt and neglect that pervaded the place and worked its way into your pores so that you carried it with you after you had left; his odd ways,born of living so long in an absence of mirrors.”
― Redwork
― Redwork
“I’m beginning to realise that I’m either overly sentimental, or am a hoarder who struggles to part with things. In all honesty, I’m probably both.”
― A Waterside Year: Fennel's Journal No. 2
― A Waterside Year: Fennel's Journal No. 2
“Life-hoarding (as I coined it) keeps you stuck to your stuff, slow to action, and ironically, makes you miss out on greater joyful experiences.”
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“A large main room, with a small, shut door in the back. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the walls, crammed with bric-a-brac; books, shells, dolls, herbs, pottery, shoes, crystals, more books, jewels... From the ceiling and wood rafters hung all manner of chains, dead birds, dresses, ribbons, gnarled bits of wood, strands of pearls...
A junk shop- of some immortal horder.
And that hoarder...
In the gloom of the cottage, there sat a large spinning wheel, cracked and dulled with age.
And before that ancient spinning wheel, her back to me, sat the Weaver.
Her thick hair was of richest onyx, tumbling down to her slender waist as she worked the wheel, snow-white hands feeding and pulling the thread around a thorn-sharp spindle.
She looked young- her grey gown simple but elegant, sparkling faintly in the dim forest light through the windows as she sang in a voice of glittering gold.”
― A Court of Mist and Fury
A junk shop- of some immortal horder.
And that hoarder...
In the gloom of the cottage, there sat a large spinning wheel, cracked and dulled with age.
And before that ancient spinning wheel, her back to me, sat the Weaver.
Her thick hair was of richest onyx, tumbling down to her slender waist as she worked the wheel, snow-white hands feeding and pulling the thread around a thorn-sharp spindle.
She looked young- her grey gown simple but elegant, sparkling faintly in the dim forest light through the windows as she sang in a voice of glittering gold.”
― A Court of Mist and Fury
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