Sombre Quotes

“I rebuke societies that impart to their flowers their cold and rigid demeanour. Flowers should not stand with the stiffness of a soldier on parade but must carry themselves with the relaxedness of a dancer, their arms outstretched above a shaggy mane. Life reveals few sights as distressing as the look of flowers standing mournfully at attention unstirred by the kisses of a million bees. This infection of uncomely reserve is the handiwork of sombre gardeners bred in sombre societies who will not consider their work done till their flowers exude in aspect that stiffness they esteem. They forget that God intended that we mingle with flowers and not merely admire them from afar. But there is a look in a fastidiously manicured garden that makes me keep my distance, a look that draws my eyes but scorns my touch, and that is why I condemn them.”

“It is a mournful task to break the sombre attachments of the past.”

“the costume of the nineteenth century is detestable. It is so sombre, so depressing. Sin is the only real colour-element left in modern life.”

“Often you shall think your road impassable, sombre and companionless. Have will and plod along; and round each curve you shall find a new companion.”

“sombre, anxious, melancholic, atmospheric, surreal, cold, lonely, cryptic, abstract, apathetic, male vocals, mysterious, dark, nocturnal, complex, mechanical, progressive, lush, disturbing'Descriptors' - Radiohead - Amnesiac”

“I admit to being prone to deep thinking, which – given that I’m emerging from dark times – can take me to some very sombre or profound places. But this is no bad thing. I always resurface wiser and with a way of viewing things that is different to before.”

“The wedding was in Monterey, a sombre boding ceremony in a little Protestant chapel. The church had so often seen two ripe bodies die by the process of marriage that it seemed to celebrate a mystic double death with its ritual.”

“Stephanie could see the greed seep into the watery eyes of herfather’s other brother, a horrible little man called Fergus, as henodded sadly and spoke sombrely and pocketed the silverwarewhen he thought no one was looking”

“While we are actually subjected to them, the 'moods' and 'spirits' of nature point no morals. Overwhelming gaiety, insupportable grandeur, sombre desolation are flung at you. Make what you can of them, if you must make at all. The only imperative that nature utters is, 'Look. Listen. Attend.”