Onyx Stone Quotes

And I’d love to listen to you fall off a cliff.

Kane didn’t even wait for me to finish. He stalked over to Halden, eerily calm. “You love this woman?” Halden looked right at me with fervor. “More than anything.” Bleeding. Stones. Kane nodded curtly. “Good.” Then he looked to the soldiers behind Halden, “Kill him.

She uses me for my fur and then kicks me to the curb. Women…

Sad pirate whore is definitely not the look we are going for.” ***

I love to listen to you explain medicinal practices,” he purred. “And I’d love to listen to you fall off a cliff.

The shock on Kane’s face would have brought me great delight at any other time. “You what?” He shook his head. “Acorn? He’d never hurt anyone.

He gave a crooked grin and shrugged. “You’re much too alluring. I’d just have to take my chances, and if you killed me,” he leaned in a bit. “Well, it would be a good death.

Fight this battle alongside the man who had thoroughly shattered my heart.

I had learned to live without my family. To sword fight, to be bold.

It’s nothing, just a bruise.” Anger simmered in his eyes. “Who did this to you?

Why did you think your life was worth less than his?” His words were not at all what I was expecting.

Fuck,” he sighed, running a hand down his tense face. “I want to eradicate him for getting to touch you, let alone kiss you. It’s making me physically sick,” he rested his face in his hand. “Since when am I such a jealous schoolboy?

Though the latter is nice to look at.” My stomach turned at his words. Did I say prick? I meant bastard. Vile bastard.

Kane cleared his throat. “Hello,” he said, flushing. “You look so—I mean, very—hello.” His brows knitted inward as if even he didn’t know what was coming out of his mouth.

I mocked dying slowly from boredom, which earned me a gorgeous grin.

It was an unusual sunset. Having sat behind opaque drapery all day, I had not realized that a storm was pushing in and that much of the sky was the precise shade of old suits of armor one finds in museums. At the same time, patches of brilliance engaged in a territorial dispute with the oncoming onyx of the storm. Light and darkness mingled in strange ways both above and below. Shadows and sunshine washed together, streaking the landscape with an unearthly study of glare and gloom. Bright clouds and black folded into each other in a no-man's land of the sky. The autumn trees took on the appearance of sculptures formed in a dream, their leaden-colored trunks and branches and iron-red leaves all locked in an infinite and unliving moment, unnaturally timeless. The gray lake slowly tossed and tumbled in a dead sleep, nudging unconsciously against its breakwall of numb stone. A scene of contradiction and ambivalence, a tragicomedic haze over all. A land of perfect twilight.

. I can still see Ricky on that roof... the sunlight shining in his round dark eyes, eyes dark as the onyx stones on my mother’s silver bracelet. His shiny black hair was matted and shoulder-length. I wondered who cut his hair. My grandmother cut mine.

The king hasn’t been seen with any women in weeks. It’s all over the castle. I wonder if that’s because of you.

I did not have the mental energy for this man right now.

Why are you staring at me?” I looked away instantly. “I’m not.” “It’s only fair. I’ve stared at you. Most of the time, I can’t seem to look at anything else.

You’re much too alluring. I’d just have to take my chances, and if you killed me”—he leaned in a bit—“well, it would be a good death.

You’re hurt. Why didn’t you say something?” “It’s nothing, just a bruise.” Anger simmered in his eyes. “Who did this to you?

About an hour after that, my herbs had been sorted not only by color and place of origin, but also by how handsome I thought they would be as boys—cardamom clearly took the win there—and my boredom had become excruciating.

Princess Amelia strolled inside and sat down on the bed. I scrambled to politely sit beside her, then tried to bow. It wasn’t pretty. She gave me a pitying glance. “No need for… whatever that is. I brought you clothes for tonight’s dinner.

The monuments of dead monarchs draw together, as if their bones were counselling each other; and the prophetic pavements beneath them, those stones of onyx, porphyry, green serpentine and glass, advise us through their inscriptions how many years the world will last.

The door had no guards—could this be another way out? I peeked up at Barney. “Can I look at this painting for a moment?” I asked, nodding to the one closest to the mysterious room. Upon actually looking at it, I winced. The painting was of a rather well-endowed nude man cradling his… endowment. Barney turned pale with embarrassment. “Uh… sure.

Where are your monuments, your battles, martyrs? Where is your tribal memory? Sirs, in that gray vault. The sea. The sea has locked them up. The sea is History. First, there was the heaving oil, heavy as chaos; then, likea light at the end of a tunnel, the lantern of a caravel, and that was Genesis. Then there were the packed cries, the shit, the moaning: Exodus. Bone soldered by coral to bone, mosaics mantled by the benediction of the shark's shadow, that was the Ark of the Covenant. Then came from the plucked wires of sunlight on the sea floor the plangent harp of the Babylonian bondage, as the white cowries clustered like manacles on the drowned women, and those were the ivory bracelets of the Song of Solomon, but the ocean kept turning blank pages looking for History. Then came the men with eyes heavy as anchors who sank without tombs, brigands who barbecued cattle, leaving their charred ribs like palm leaves on the shore, then the foaming, rabid maw of the tidal wave swallowing Port Royal, and that was Jonah, but where is your Renaissance? Sir, it is locked in them sea sands out there past the reef's moiling shelf, where the men-o'-war floated down; strop on these goggles, I'll guide you there myself. It's all subtle and submarine, through colonnades of coral, past the gothic windows of sea fans to where the crusty grouper, onyx-eyed, blinks, weighted by its jewels, like a bald queen; and these groined caves with barnacles pitted like stone are our cathedrals, and the furnace before the hurricanes: Gomorrah. Bones ground by windmills into marl and cornmeal, and that was Lamentations - that was just Lamentations, it was not History; then came, like scum on the river's drying lip, the brown reeds of villages mantling and congealing into towns, and at evening, the midges' choirs, and above them, the spires lancing the side of God as His son set, and that was the New Testament. Then came the white sisters clapping to the waves' progress, and that was Emancipation - jubilation, O jubilation - vanishing swiftly as the sea's lace dries in the sun, but that was not History, that was only faith, and then each rock broke into its own nation; then came the synod of flies, then came the secretarial heron, then came the bullfrog bellowing for a vote, fireflies with bright ideas and bats like jetting ambassadors and the mantis, like khaki police, and the furred caterpillars of judges examining each case closely, and then in the dark ears of ferns and in the salt chuckle of rocks with their sea pools, there was the sound like a rumour without any echo of History, really beginning.

I just . . . I just wanted to make sure you were . . . okay.” He shoved away from the door as he took a long stride toward her, letting the door slam behind him. “I should be asking you the same thing,” he said, cringing, his voice filled with concern. Violet knew how she looked. The bruise on her cheek had turned a strange combination of green, yellow, and purple. The swelling had gone down, but not enough for anyone else to notice. “I’m fine.” She hedged and then tried to shrug it off. “If you like bar-fight chic.” His face darkened. “I wasn’t really talking about what’s on the outside.” “You mean, like, it’s what’s on the inside that counts?” Rafe grimaced, the ghost of a smile finding his lips. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds sort of . . .” “Sweet?” “I was gonna say lame. But, yeah, that works too.” “Yeah? Well, you look . . .” She was going to say better, but she practically stumbled over the word. He looked anything but better. If she looked beat-up, he looked downright thrashed. Even behind the bandages, Violet could see scrapes and mottled skin. “Terrible. You look terrible.” She moved closer to him on the landing as he unlocked the closed door. “But better than the last time I saw you, I guess.” Rafe tried to laugh, but winced and grabbed his ribs. “Damn, V, I wouldn’t plan on a career in nursing if I were you; your bedside manner stinks.” His eyes clouded over when he saw her stroking the black onyx hanging from around her neck. “Krystal?” he asked. “For protection,” Violet clarified. “Um, yeah, I got one too. Mine’s for healing.” He tugged at the silver chain around his neck. He held up an irregular-looking stone that had been tucked beneath his shirt. It was cloudy—opaque—and Violet wondered at the mystical qualities Krystal believed it possessed. “I meant it’s from Krystal. Right?” “Oh, yeah . . . right.” She nodded, realizing she’d misunderstood his question.

There is a silence here, profound and foreboding, the crouched hush of a predator at work. Too often the only sound, the only reminder to travelers in the Underdark that they have not lost their sense of hearing altogether, is a distant and echoing drip of water, beating like the heart of a beast, slipping through the silent stones to the deep Underdark pools of chilled water. What lies beneath the still onyx surface of these pools one can only guess. What secrets await the brave, what horrors await the foolish, only the imagination can reveal—until the stillness is disturbed. This is the Underdark.

Light it up, Bryce.” The onyx stone of the Bone Quarter glowed like a dark star.

Maybe you can reason with the king. He cares for you, you know. You should have seen his face when I called you my wife. He looked like I’d killed his pet.

There is no redemption," he continued, pulling his hand from mine. "Only revenge." "Sound like a very lonely way to live." "Yes." He said it like he deserved such an existence.

Had I known what was out there, I might never have given myself the chance to be brave.

There are three things I love in this world. Reading, a challenge, and proving others wrong.

A HEART OF LAPIS The most beautiful stones adorn my neck Like an Ancient Egyptian collar. Two glistening balls of onyx sit on top Followed by a double stretch of coral. At the center is a lapis heart, Deeper in color than the Red Sea waters And I am so grateful for this heavenly gift This precious necklace is My daughter.

On that ephod is a ‘breastplate of righteousness’ that contains twelve different gems. Jasper, sapphire, emerald, onyx, and others.” “Emerald is my favorite,” said Achsah. She loved its bright green glow. Caleb continued, “The precious stones represent Yahweh’s heavenly city as well as the twelve tribes of Israel.” “But that breastplate is also called the ‘breastplate of judgment’ because it contains a pocket over the heart of the high priest,

Lucifer (see Isaiah 14), was the anointed cherub who fell, and became Satan, because of his pride. Yet, in Ezekiel 28, we learn that the place of his rule was on earth, in the Garden of Eden. After his fall, and judgment, God later replaced Satan with Adam, a new governor of the restored earth! No wonder Satan hates mankind!: Ezekiel 28:13 Thou hast been in Eden the garden of God; every precious stone was thy covering, the sardius, topaz, and the diamond, the beryl, the onyx, and

in Chapter 32, Moses returned to Mount Sinai. This time God wrote the Commandments on two stone tablets and gave Moses specific instructions on how to build a special chest, called an ark, in which to carry them. He also gave Moses instructions on how to make other sacred objects, such as a bejeweled gold breastplate, two onyx balls inscribed with the names of the twelve tribes, and a golden crown.

is a sure source of silver, a place where gold is refined. 2Iron is taken from the earth; rock is smelted into copper. 3Humansx put an end to darkness, dig for ore to the farthest depths, into stone in utter darkness, 4open a shaft away from any inhabitant, places forgotten by those on foot, apart from any human they hang and sway. 5Earth--from it comes food-- is turned over below ground as by fire.y 6Its rocks are the source for lapis lazuli; there is gold dust in it. 7A path-- no bird of prey knows it; a hawk's eye hasn't seen it; 8proud beasts haven't trodden on it; a lion hasn't crossed over it. 9Humans thrust their hands into flint, pull up mountains from their roots, 10cut channels into rocks; their eyes see everything precious. 11They dam up the sources of rivers; hidden things come to light. Wisdom's value 12But wisdom, where can it be found; where is the place of understanding? 13Humankind doesn't know its value; it isn't found in the land of the living. 14The Deepz says, "It's not with me"; the Seaa says, "Not alongside me!" 15It can't be bought with gold; its price can't be measured in silver, 16can't be weighed against gold from Ophir, with precious onyx or lapis lazuli. 17Neither gold nor glass can compare with it; she can't be acquired with gold jewelry. 18Coral and jasper shouldn't be mentioned; the price of wisdom is more than rubies. 19Cushite topaz won't compare with her; she can't be set alongside pure gold. 20But wisdom, where does she come from? Where is the place of understanding? 21She's hidden from the eyes of all the living, concealed from birds of the sky. 22Destructionb and Death have said, "We've heard a report of her." 23God understands her way; he knows her place; 24for he looks to the ends of the earth and surveys everything beneath the heavens. 25In order to weigh the wind, to prepare a measure for waters, 26when he made a decree for the rain, a path for thunderbolts, 27then he observed it, spoke of it, established it, searched it out, 28and said to humankind: "Look, the fear of the LORD is wisdom; turning from evil is understanding.

Only one ring remained on his pinky finger. My ring. The ring that I had worn for 500 years. Only then did I notice that his own hands were bare. It was a tiny silver band with a dark, black stone -- onyx. “Never wear onyx unless you want or know death,” he once told me. I believed him. Besides, up until that moment, I was confident no vampire enjoyed creating death more than I did.

Do you often take leisurely afternoon jaunts into the forest?” I finally asked. “I’m a little busy for such distractions.” I rolled my eyes. “Busy with what exactly? Bedding women and killing people for sport?” His voice was like a deep, satisfied purr. “Don’t tempt me, bird.

Perfect chiseled jaw. Full lips. It was indecent, frankly, how gorgeous he was. Gorgeous, indecent, and deadly. A chill ran through my entire body. I felt more afraid now than I had all evening, and that included a literal ride through the skies on the back of a dragon. But despite the warning bells going off in every cell of my body, I couldn't look away.

Firstly, you may call me Kane. King Ravenwood is a little formal from someone I’ve made blush as many times as you.

Much easier to make me the villain in a story missing so many pages

Envy is the poison we feed ourselves.

There’s always something to fear. That’s the price of doing anything worth doing.

Don't even start. I wouldn't be dealing with any of this if it wasn't for you." Only a warning danced in his eyes. "Are you finding that denial to be working very well for you, bird?" "Hey, don't talk to her like that." Kane turned to Fedrik, his voice terribly calm. "I will end you.

It was the least brave quality - to be sensitive and fearful and full of tears. But I let them flow freely now.

Fae

Nesryn had walked swiftly past Vanth’s dark-stoned temple earlier, the entrance marked only by a set of onyx steps descending into a subterranean chamber lit with bone-white candles.

They’re luck charms,” the magpie said, waving a feathery hand over the trays of gems. “White is for joy; green for wealth; red for love and fertility; blue for wisdom … Take your pick.” Hunt asked, “What’s the black for?” The magpie’s onyx-colored mouth curved upward. “For the opposite of luck.” She tapped one of the black opals, kept contained within a glass dome. “Slip it under the pillow of your enemy and see what happens to them.” Bryce cleared her throat. “Interesting as that may be—” Hunt held out a silver mark. “For the white.” Bryce’s brows rose, but the magpie swept up the mark, and plunked the white opal into Hunt’s awaiting palm. They left, ignoring her gratitude for their business. “I didn’t peg you for superstitious,” Bryce said. But Hunt paused at the end of the row of stalls and took her hand. He pressed the opal into it, the stone warm from his touch. The size of a crow’s egg, it shimmered in the firstlights high above. “You could use some joy,” Hunt said quietly. Something bright sparked in her chest. “So could you,” she said, attempting to press the opal back into his palm. But Hunt stepped away. “It’s a gift.” Bryce’s face warmed again, and she looked anywhere but at him as she smiled. Even though she could feel his gaze lingering on her face while she slid the opal into the pocket of her jacket.

was going to have to find some way out of here. No more blubbering. No more tears

I am amazed by you, Onyx. Of both who you are and how well you've overcome the obstacles against you. You know as well as I do that women are made of exteriors like stones and hearts that never stop growing. The will of a bull and wisdom of an oracle. And you are a fine example of that.

His words were like a loaf of bread rising in my chest. Warm and gooey and soft.

I knelt down slowly to inspect the parcel’s contents, and my mouth fell open like a book.

And clearly, the feeling was mutual. He hadn’t been interested in telling me anything about his escape. Irritation pricked at my skin. This stranger couldn’t help me, but he had ample time to stroll through the dungeons and be irritating?

Bryce whipped her head around to look at the Gate as Danika’s voice sounded again. “Light it up, Bryce.” The onyx stone of the Bone Quarter glowed like a dark star.

Root Chakra Gemstones •       With the utmost care and devotion, BLACK TOURMALINE guards its keeper and her property. It is the mineral-kingdom's most protective stone. Place four pieces at your home or property's four corners to protect your home and land, and keep one piece in your car to prevent theft. •       JET is a wood component which is decayed under high pressure and deoxygenated. Though light in weight, when it comes to defense, jet packs a heavy punch, eliminating curses or hexes, and extracting dark magic that originates from past ages or lifetimes. Our ancestors claimed that holding a piece of jet, including the Plague, would help protect them from illness. •       ONYX helps empathy by absorbing and transmuting low vibrations in people or places as a working tool. Having the bearer physically powerful and formidable, and gaining good luck and a great harvest, is believed. •       RED AVENTURINE purifies and detoxifies energy frequencies to help clear the trauma stored, promoting a deeper connection with energy source. It helps to promote strong body ventilation, remove accumulated toxins, and increase blood flow. •       RED JASPER is a battle-stone of resilience and reminds the carrier of her personal strength and ability to overcome challenges. Native Americans claimed red jasper would reinforce warriors going into combat. The red color, because of the protective properties of the stone, reflected the blood they would not have spilled.

Bellamy had become fascinated by all the different types of semi-precious stones the jewelers worked with - agate, quartz, rose quartz, onyx, obsidian, jade, jasper, red jasper, tiger’s

In one of the sermons I remember best, Mother Elfilda compared the Virgin Mary to an onyx, the precious stone that opens up to receive a drop of dew when the sun shines on it. After nine months it opens again and another onyx falls out, leaving the original stone unchanged. Mary remained pure, untouched, even as God forced Joseph to wed Mary.