Descriptive Writing Quotes

“Silence cut him to the quick as it breathed a tale he didn’t want to hear.”
― Kimber Silver, Broken Rhodes

“I feel her wave of worry like a patio heater - faint and ineffective, but constant.”
― Neal Shusterman, Challenger Deep

“Rising only to the edge of her waist — for she knew full well how the sight of a tail affects mortal men — the mermaid showed the prince her shell-like breasts, her pearly skin, the phosphorescence of her hair. She held a webbed hand over her mouth, her fingers as slim as the ribs of a fan. Then she pulled her hand away, displaying her smile. She was well trained in the arts of seduction, as was he. Royalty abounds in it.”
― Jane Yolen

“The salt smell of the ocean, sharp and steady, called to her from the window. Looking out, she saw her sisters, the waves, beckoning her with their white arms.”
― Jane Yolen, How to Fracture a Fairy Tale

“She left two mermaid tears, crystals with a bit of salt embedded in them, on his pillow.”
― Jane Yolen, How to Fracture a Fairy Tale

“War is our backyard, famine our feast. Most fear the wind of our wings and even, in their hurt, pray for life. Only a few, a very few, truly pray for death. But we answer all their prayers with the same coin.”
― Jane Yolen, How to Fracture a Fairy Tale

“There is an Arabic proverb that says: She makes you feel like a loaf of freshly baked bread.”
― Jasmine Wargawa

“The walls on either side were lined with curtains. Folds of damson velvet spilled onto the white marble floor. Gold fringes looped along the curtain rods above them. High overhead, rich reddish-brown slats formed the ceiling. Elaborate carvings in the wood depicted strange scenes of badgers and borlan and men.”
― S.C. Monson, Badgerblood: Awakening

“Our lives are spent plopped on the gluteal upholstery for eight hours a day with only imaginary friends for company, spinning lies, marinating in envy, and wondering when the Pulitzer committee is going to twig to our brilliance.”
― Sarah Bird, Recent Studies Indicate: The Best of Sarah Bird

“The strain on her face was still there, like weathered rocks under a thin mantle of snow.”
― Richard K. Morgan, Altered Carbon

“We are still nearer the winter edge of spring on this cool and misty May afternoon, the scent of wood smoke in the air — a remnant of the afternoon fire.”
― David Sheff, Beautiful Boy: A Father's Journey Through His Son's Addiction

“Reality was a bad choice of enemy — it had no need for disguise, didn't respect the rules, and hit below the belt.”
― Yelena Akhtiorskaya, Panic in a Suitcase

“He did notice Tony’s gleaming white teeth for the first time. Tony wasn’t known for his smiling. He tried to find a suitable word to describe this smile, but the only word that came to him was expensive.”
― Jim Lowe, New Reform

“El tiempo había cambiado, desaparecían las nubes y ante él se extendía una llanura cubierta de un tapiz blanco y ondulante.”
― Pushkin Alexander

“The night rain sheeted the street, blowing almost horizontally with the gusts of wind.”
― Jason Matthews, Red Sparrow

“She smelled like accounts receivable. She looked like old money.”
― Catherynne M. Valente, Radiance

“... tears, like drops of wax, flowed from his eyes.”
― Elie Wiesel, Night

“Misha didn't finish flossing his sculpted popcorn molars, though the upkeep of his teeth was the closest he had to a sacred rite.”
― Yelena Akhtiorskaya, Panic in a Suitcase

“She watched the thick, clear plastic sheeting covering the hole on the roof rise and fall in tune with the wintry blasts like the last gasps of a dying man.”
― Jim Lowe, New Reform

“In every room against the brown backdrop, there would be St George Crosses and Union Jacks. Even the crockery would be adorned with symbols of this so-called great land.”
― Jim Lowe, New Reform

“Kylpaitryc's eyes streamed tears as he coughed explosively on harsh, sinus-raping smoke.”
― David Weber, At the Sign of Triumph

“Ooh! Oo-wooh!' groaned Henry, looking up to see that even Albert Einstein was willing him on. Amber grasped at lumps of his flesh and felt as if she were steering a rickety bus on a bumpy goat track.”
― Kevin Ansbro, The Fish That Climbed a Tree

“The Christmas tree was a dark pyramid in the living room corner. Presents hid beneath it, wrapping paper quicksilver in the moonlight. He absorbed the stillness. An electric hiss seemed to saturate the air.”
― Meg Gardiner, The Dark Corners of the Night (Unsub Series, Book 3)

“Coming, baby,' Shana murmured.
She tossed back the covers, brushed her sleep-tangled hair from her face, and slogged out of the bedroom. The hardwood floor creaked beneath her bare feet. Jaydee's cries grew clearer.”
― Meg Gardiner, Into the Black Nowhere

“She felt a pang, a deep wish for the bay, the soaring towers of the bridge, the sunlight skipping across ten thousand whitecaps between the Golden Gate and Alcatraz. She wanted the scent of the Pacific and the beauty of the cities and the mountains, and her man. She closed her eyes.
She opened them and felt small, surrounded by the sweep of the continent. The sky was vast. It was glorious and terrifying.”
― Meg Gardiner, Into the Black Nowhere

“—Es la collera de los cascabeles de correo —dijo el cochero—. No hay más que uno así en cada estación.

El son de la collera de la primera troika, que se oía claramente gracias al viento, era espléndido: puro, sonoro, grave y ligeramente trémolo. Según supe después, era un invento de cazadores: tres cascabeles, uno grande en el medio, con sonido frutal, así se llamaba, y dos pequeños, afinados en acorde de tercera. El sonido de esa tercera y la tintinante quinta, repercutido en el aire, era asombroso y extraño por su belleza en aquella estepa desierta y perdida.”
― Tolstoi Lev Nikolaevich

“Me da vergüenza recordar cómo grité, con qué voz tan estridente, hasta desesperada, «¡Cochero!», cuando lo tenía a dos pasos de mí.”
― Tolstoi Lev Nikolaevich

“Un gran caballo bayo alargó el pescuezo, arqueó la espalda, avanzó tranquilamente por el camino todo cubierto de nieve, moviendo su greñuda cabeza, e irguió una oreja repleta de nieve cuando se cruzó con nosotros.”
― Tolstoi Lev Nikolaevich

“Descriptive is the simplest and somewhat the most accessible type of academic writing. The purpose is to provide facts or information. Descriptive academic writing is usually a summary of an article or a report of the results of an experiment.”
― QuickEssayRelief

“Its voice was as clear as water, as pure as the light from the sun that was rising over the buildings around her.”
― Odo Hirsch, Hazel Green