Mole Quotes

“Is it birthday weather for you, dear soul?
Is it fine your way,
With tall moon-daisies alight, and the mole
Busy, and elegant hares at play
By meadow paths where once you would stroll
In the flush of day?”
― Cecil Day-Lewis, The Complete Poems of C. Day Lewis

“ducking glass mole' - Alec Lightwood”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“Once well underground, you know exactly where you are. Nothing can happen to you, and nothing can get at you. You're entirely your own master and you don't have to consult anybody or mind what they say. Things go on all the same overhead, and you let 'em, and don't bother about 'em. When you want to, up you go, and there the things are, waiting for you.”
― Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows:

“Love doesn't need you to be extraordinary.”
― Charlie Mackesy, The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse / The Velveteen Rabbit

“Perhpas if I call out to Rat he might hear," said the Mole to himself, but without much hope.
Rat! Ratty! O Rat, please hear me!" he called out as loudly as he could, holding up his lantern as he did so, waving it about/ But the wind rushed and roared around him even more, and snatched his weak words away the moment they were they were uttered, and scattered them wildly and uselessly as if they were flakes of snow,
Even worse, the light of the lantern began to gutter, and then, quiet suddenly, an extra strong gust of wind blew it out.
Well then," said the daunted but resolute Mole, putting the spent lantern on the ground, "there's nothing else for it! Frozen rivers are dangerous thinngs, no doubt, but I must try to cross, despite the dangers."
--The Willows in the Winter”
― William Horwood

“Mumtaz has six moles. Two are black: behind her ear and on her hip, in the trough of the wave that crests at her pelvis. Three are the color of rust: knuckle, corner of jaw, behind knee. And one is red, fiery, at the base of her spine, where a tail might grow. I touch them and know them because I watch her like a man in a field stares up at the stars, and I love her constellation because it contains her story and our story, and I wonder which mole is the beginning and which is the end.”
― Mohsin Hamid, Moth Smoke

“Thank God! I’m getting tired of working underground. I feel like damn mole.”
― Jason Medina, The Manhattanville Incident: An Undead Novel

“When my daughter was 10 she pointed at my face and said accusingly, 'Er - yuk! Witches have those.' I rushed to the mirror. There, sprouting determinedly from a mole on my chin, was a single sprout of hair. I was 45. Caroline, 53”
― Caroline Carr, Menopause: The Guide for Real Women

“Dmitri was the mole.”

"We never used that word. That’s a new word,” Sparrow quibbles. “It’s a spy-novel word.”
― David Quammen, The Soul of Viktor Tronko

“He told himself, too, that it was good to sleep in a bed you know well after a long day rife with emotions.”
― Michel Plessix, The Wind in the Willows

“What’s the point? Have you not noticed how they operate here? They eat before us, the council of three. Three males, making all the decisions. I follow orders. I’m good enough to fuck—not good enough to consult on decisions. Not good enough to trust with all the secrets they keep among themselves. Once, women ruled the fae world. We were treated like goddesses. Your mother brought all that back. A true fae queen, just like the old days. And I was going to be her successor, reviving the old House of Marc’h, ruled by women centuries ago. All I wanted was the power I deserved.”
― C.N. Crawford, Dark King

“Unlike Man and Ngo, I was never much of an organizer or agitator, which was one reason, Man would say later, that the committees above decided I would be a mole.

He used the English word, which we had learned not so long ago in our English course, taught by a professor whose greatest joy was diagramming sentences. A mole? I said. The animal that digs underground?

The other kind of mole.

There's another kind?

Of course. To think of a mole as that which digs underground misunderstands the meaning of the mole as a spy. A spy's task is not to hide himself where no one can see him, since he will not be able to see anything himself. A spy's task is to hide where everyone can see him and where he can see everything. Now ask yourself: What can everyone see about you but you yourself cannot?

Enough with the riddles, I said. I give up.

There—he pointed at the middle of my face-in plain sight.

I went to the mirror to see for myself, Man peering over my shoulder. There it indeed was, such a part of myselfI had long ago ceased to notice it. Keep in mind that you will be not just any mole, Man said, but the mole that is the beauty spot on the nose of power itself.”
― Viet Thanh Nguyen, The Sympathizer