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“Wherever you will go, I will let you down, But this lullaby goes on.”
Sarah Dessen“The music of cri-cri and cigales droned on in a hypnotic rhythm, punctuated by the occasional croon of the nightingale. I thought of lullabies and how as a child they would placate my disappointment that another day had ended. I was used to sleeping in strange places, and would always focus on sound to relax. In the pawnshop, it was the ticking of grandfather clocks or the tuning of antique instruments. In the thieves’ den, it was striking of a match, the bubbling of a water pipe and the gentle murmur floating in off the streets. On the Wastrel, it was the wind or the creaking wood. It was important to me to find lullabies where I could. If death came with a lullaby, perhaps fewer men would fear it.”
Meg Merriet, Sky Song Overture“We both fell asleep wrapped up together with the wolves still lullaby-ing us in the background”
April Genevieve Tucholke, Between the Spark and the Burn“Bringing you 'raisins and almonds' and words (from a Yiddish lullaby”
Rona Simmons, Postcards from Wonderland“They heard a lullaby every time a part of her died in Silence.”
Akshay Vasu“...the wind hums low with sweet exultation, sings its lullaby, while you sleep ...”
John Geddes, A Familiar Rain“A mystical symphony permeates my senses and a holy lullaby embraces me.”
Earthschool Harmony, Back To Grace: Spiritual poetry and reflections“Are these things really better than the things I already have? Or am I just trained to be dissatisfied with what I have now?”
Chuck Palahniuk, Lullaby“A successful song comes to sing itself inside the listener. It is cellular and seismic, a wave coalescing in the mind and in the flesh. There is a message outside and a message inside, and those messages are the same, like the pat and thud of two heartbeats, one within you, one surrounding. The message of the lullaby is that it’s okay to dim the eyes for a time, to lose sight of yourself as you sleep and as you grow: if you drift, it says, you’ll drift ashore: if you fall, you will fall into place.”
Kevin Brockmeier“Therefore, she hummed the provincial lullaby she had learned from the officers’ children in the English Quarter of Jerusalem, and watched in fascination while the savage radical’s eyes misted over with tears. For an instant, the prison bars melted away, and she felt God’s presence—for the first time since their imprisonment. She was not a captive, and this man was not her captor. Indeed, they were both merely God’s children.”
V.S. Carnes