Metaphysical Fiction Quotes

“A large, white, winged horse stands before me, wings outspread and nostrils dilated, she writes.  He tells me that he is here to carry me into the moonlit realms of imagination, dreams, and intuition.  He uses his hooves to strike at the ground of my being, to trigger wellsprings of poetic inspiration and artistic creativity fed by memories of times long since past, memories that often creep into the dream time.  Furthermore, he says the deep unconscious – in the form of a magician’s spell – is calling to me to remember who I have been and who I am destined to be.”
― Kathy Martone, Victorian Songlight: The Birthings of Magic & Mystery

“Edward breathed in the sweet fragrance of the dogwood blossoms. The delicious air came into his lungs and passed into his blood, coursing through his veins with euphoric energy that he’d never experienced. He felt as strong as a hundred men as they passed out of the dogwood coppice and began the ascent up the hill. Their pace was leisurely. Edward could have run all the way to the top if he wanted, but no urge to do so imposed itself on him. For the first time in his life, Edward felt peace, down to the marrow of his bones.”
― Steven Decker, One More Life to Live

“The car was waiting for him, and in twenty minutes, he passed under the Broken Heart sign that used to read Tender Oak. Edward found it ironic that it was March. The harvest would begin soon. He’d first arrived at this place seventy-five years ago at the age of ten, in March, just before the harvest.”
― Steven Decker, One More Life to Live

“The gentle pulsing and flickering of stars and nebulae made a kind of music, a sweet easy mesh of whispered tones and sighing harmonies that held him in its force like the earth [holding] the moon.”
― Aberjhani, Songs from the Black Skylark zPed Music Player

“In many places along this narrow, curving strand of pavement, the forest threads tree limbs overhead in a latticework canopy that leads one to think of the sacredness of cathedrals.  Once you enter this hallowed space, the temperature drops dramatically and a world of virtual silence wraps you in a cocoon of serenity and grace.  For Kate, it is a destination in and of itself, this magnificent temple of embracing trees, limbs arching overhead with long arms of wooded skin, reaching for their beloved partners on the other side of the road, seeking communion and the joining of lovers.”
― Kathy Martone, Victorian Songlight: The Birthings of Magic & Mystery

“I told you,” he says as his physical form begins to fade away and the clouds disperse, the crystal blue form of the celestial sphere announcing its role on the stage of dawning awareness.”
― Kathy Martone, Victorian Songlight: The Birthings of Magic & Mystery

“Sharply etched against the black velvet canopy, the lady in white watches as her husband awakens, his deep orange smile lighting up the ebony darkness.  Casting her alabaster glow across the dark firmament, she blows a kiss to her beloved solar mate as she prepares for her own descent into sleep.  “Remember,” she whispers, “remember the sweet fragrance of my words.  Soft, cherishing words spoken on the currents of timelessness as one life morphs into the next.  Words of love and remembrance.”  Smiling contentedly, her light dims into the erupting color of the daytime sky.”
― Kathy Martone, Victorian Songlight: The Birthings of Magic & Mystery

“My capacity to break was not a burden or a punishment. It was my gift. My gift was to dare to be broken open again and again.”
― Summer Shultz, Stuck Wide Open

“Confronted with the desert's boundless emptiness, my sense of loneliness shrank down to the point of irrelevance. My sense of self shrank down to the point of irrelevance. To comprehend one's own smallness may for most people be a terrifying experience, but I found it comforting.”
― Summer Shultz, Stuck Wide Open

“All I could do was trust the breaking and move forward to greet this newest version of myself, whoever she was and whatever form she decided to take.”
― Summer Shultz, Stuck Wide Open

“we stare into pages hoping to find meaning in a universe that couldn’t care less.And still—flipping pages desperately, only to be met with footnotes of our own insignificance.”
― Onu

“My fear traveled alongside me as an almost constant companion. It caused me to doubt myself all the time, to hesitate, to second-guess my decisions. Every day, I waged war against my mind and the fear that plagued it. I fought to live a life of my own choosing rather than a life dictated by fear and comfort. I fought the impulse to close, to numb, or to seek some form of escape. Every day, over and over, I chose to see, to stay open, to remain open.”
― Summer Shultz, Stuck Wide Open

“And then somehow the faint echo of a question brought it all converging in a frightening rush toward the epicenter which was really just another hidden nexus in an infinite web of them. A profusion of warmth followed by a spark that ignited a cloud of impossible color and luminosity—swirling and rippling and churning and strobing—and singing! An excitation in search of that subtle and rhythmic order by which new ensembles were always finding ways to expand the expansionless.”
― Casey Fisher, The Subtle Cause

“And while we may never be able to wrap our minds around the thing itself, it is by the power of a story that we brush against it. A story somehow perturbed out of a harmony imperturbable.”
― Casey Fisher, The Subtle Cause

“It's not what you see, but what you can't.”
― Philip Myles Dane, ALL THE DARK VOICES

“When the storm comes, the formidable oak breaks easily, but the flowing willow bends and sways in the wind. When the storm's over, the willow straightens up again and regenerates. It sheds its damaged branches and leaves to reduce its overall burden and recover. Recovery takes time, and the willow allows it.”
― NZ Kaminsky, Sense of Home

“Lach soul will awaken on its own clock.”
― NZ Kaminsky, Sense of Home

“Life inside of us is the same as outside, always flowing and never repeating. It's a constant torrent. I doubt we can control it. All we can do is enter the flux and surrender.”
― NZ Kaminskyinsky , Sense of Home

“Listen to your emotions, darling.
They’re just signals that something is wrong for you, not with you.”
― NZ Kaminsky, Sense of Home

“Her broken heart was still beating. How come? Buses were running, buzzing, humming. People were smiling.
Birds' chatter and kids' laughter rang in her ears, causing her pain. The streets with fancy boutiques, ready for the winter testival, were nonchalant to her sorrow. And the coffee shops served croissants.

— Sense of Home”
― NZ Kaminsky, Sense of Home

“Each soul will awaken on its own clock.”
― NZ Kaminsky, Sense of Home

“Her broken heart was still beating. How come? Buses were running, buzzing, humming. People were smiling.
Birds' chatter and kids' laughter rang in her ears, causing her pain. The streets with fancy boutiques, ready for the winter testival, were nonchalant to her sorrow. And the coffee shops served croissants”
― NZ Kaminsky, Sense of Home

“There was light, warmth, and love under that tiny shelter. It was small but just enough to get through difficult times.”
― NZ Kaminsky, Sense of Home