I love the phrase "shiver language." It so aptly describes what it is - languages, words, phrases that send a shiver down your spine because they are so well-written or because they show the world in a way that you would otherwise never have seen it. (The traditional phrase for this is "figurative language", but that doesn't strike me as particularly descriptive. Figurative language makes you do what - figurate?)
Occasionally, I run across a book that is full of shiver language. When that happens, I highlight (if the book is mine) or scribble down page numbers (if it isn't). My copy of The Book Thief is covered in purple highlighter. (If you want to read my shiver language post, you can find it here.)
I recently discovered another book full of shiver language - The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. These are just some of the quotes I found that sent a shiver down my spine. I hope you enjoy reading them.
Occasionally, I run across a book that is full of shiver language. When that happens, I highlight (if the book is mine) or scribble down page numbers (if it isn't). My copy of The Book Thief is covered in purple highlighter. (If you want to read my shiver language post, you can find it here.)
I recently discovered another book full of shiver language - The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. These are just some of the quotes I found that sent a shiver down my spine. I hope you enjoy reading them.
"That is how Clara read, with borrowed eyes."
"We were always two fugitives riding on the spine of a book, eager to escape into worlds of fiction and secondhand dreams."
"Dusk fell almost surreptitiously, with a cold breeze and a mantle of purple light that slid between the gaps in the streets."
"The city was asleep, and the bookshop felt like a boat adrift in a sea of silence and shadows."
"I remained glued to the fire, watching the steam rise from my clothes like a fleeing soul."
"I lost sight of the car that was taking Bea away, two dots of light sinking into a well of darkness."
"He continued to pursue the shadow of his own words."
"It had started to snow, and the sky was melting into slow tears of light that seemed to lie on my breath before fading away."
"The art of reading is an intimate ritual; a book is a mirror that offers us only what we already carry inside us; when we read, we do it with all our heart and mind."
"I leafed through the pages, inhaling the enchanted scent of promise that comes with all new books."
"We were always two fugitives riding on the spine of a book, eager to escape into worlds of fiction and secondhand dreams."
"Dusk fell almost surreptitiously, with a cold breeze and a mantle of purple light that slid between the gaps in the streets."
"The city was asleep, and the bookshop felt like a boat adrift in a sea of silence and shadows."
"I remained glued to the fire, watching the steam rise from my clothes like a fleeing soul."
"I lost sight of the car that was taking Bea away, two dots of light sinking into a well of darkness."
"He continued to pursue the shadow of his own words."
"It had started to snow, and the sky was melting into slow tears of light that seemed to lie on my breath before fading away."
"The art of reading is an intimate ritual; a book is a mirror that offers us only what we already carry inside us; when we read, we do it with all our heart and mind."
"I leafed through the pages, inhaling the enchanted scent of promise that comes with all new books."
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