#Shadow

"I make love like my afternoon shadow is long. I'll bring the foreplay, if you bring the guacamole. (Yes, I know there is a 99-cent upcharge.)"

"I’m learning to play the saxophone so when you feel lonely I can come over and stand in the shadows and play it for you. Two is one too lonely for me."

"I don't need a friend who changes when I change and who nods when I nod; my shadow does that much better."

"I’m 30-years-old, and I still can’t get out from under my father’s shadow. He’s really tall, so maybe I’ll just ask him to move over a few feet."

"The true work of art is but a shadow of the divine perfection."

"May your feet ever walk in the light of two suns... and may the moonshadow never fall on you..."

"Hope is like the sun, which, as we journey toward it, casts the shadow of our burden behind us."

"I love letting her know how much she means to me. A love in secret is but a shadow that’s cold and lonely."

"Some people grow vegetables by day, but I grow shadows by night. Right now my only customer is the US government, but the profit is unbelievable."

"Do not live in the shadow of the masters for ever. Learn to live in the light of your soul. Life deserves full expression."

"My shadow follows me during the day, and then surrounds me at night as it clones itself into complete darkness. Now that’s self-love."

"Friendship is the shadow of the evening, which increases with the setting sun of life."

"What men call the shadow of the body is not the shadow of the body, but is the body of the soul."

"I have always been afraid... Always been pretending to follow you closely, alwyas been pretending to sharpen my teeth, when the truth is, I am ... scared to death just treading on your shadow."

"Washington, D.C., has everything that Rome, Paris and London have in the way of great architecture - great power bases. Washington has obelisks and pyramids and underground tunnels and great art and a whole shadow world that we really don't see."

"This life, which had been the tomb of his virtue and of his honour, is but a walking shadow; a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

"What chance combination of shadow and sound and his own thoughts had created it?"

"I consider a dream like I consider a shadow,” answered Caeiro, with his usual divine, unexpected promptitude. “A shadow is real, but it’s less real than a rock. A dream is real — if it weren’t, it wouldn’t be a dream — but less real than a thing. That’s what being real is like."

"No matter how many leaves would the tree of your soul have in front of the intense heat in the words of Time in this world, they can never shade the eternity lost inside you."

"Last night my shadow exploded into hundreds of fluttering black birds, foreshadowing my love taking flight under the cover of camouflage."