“Her hands came out of her sleeves. There was a rod of blinding silver in each.”

— Henry Kuttner, book The Dark World

Source: The Dark World (1954), Ch. 16 : Self Against Self
Context: Her hands came out of her sleeves. There was a rod of blinding silver in each. Before I could stir she had brought the rods together, crossing them before her smiling face. At the intersection forces of tremendous power blazed into an instant's being, forces that streamed from the poles of the world and could touch only for the beat of a second if that world were not to be shaken into fragments. I felt the building reel below me.
I felt the gateway open.

Adopted from Wikiquote. Last update Aug. 18, 2022. History

Help us to complete the source, original and additional information

Do you have more details about the quote "Her hands came out of her sleeves. There was a rod of blinding silver in each." by Henry Kuttner?

Henry Kuttner31

American author 1915–1958

Related quotes

“I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.”

W.B. Yeats (1865–1939) Irish poet and playwright

The Song Of Wandering Aengus http://poetry.poetryx.com/poems/1690/ <br class="br">The Wind Among the Reeds (1899)

“She is laughing up her sleeve at you, my brother.”

Molière book Tartuffe

Variant: She is laughing in your face, my brother.
Source: Tartuffe (1664), Act I, sc. v

“Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod?
Or Love in a golden bowl?”

William Blake The Book of Thel

The Book of Thel, Thel's Motto (1789–1792)
Context: Does the Eagle know what is in the pit?
Or wilt thou go ask the Mole?
Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod?
Or Love in a golden bowl?

“There is a fair woman in the west,
who is as bright as sunlight.
She wears a dress of the finest silk
and jewelry shines from her left, her right.
Her face is a charm, so full of grace,
lightly perfuming the breeze.
Climbing upward, she keeps watch for her loved one,
holding her sleeves, she faces the morning sun.
She hovers, she drifts through the sky,
waving her sleeves, she dances,
flies like the wind, like a cloud, in [a] trance.
Every so often, she glances at me,
but for me this beauty is out of reach.
Left alone, I lament my fate.”

Ruan Ji (210–263) One of the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove

Poem XIX, translated by Wu Fusheng and Graham Hartill in The Poem of Ruan Ji (2006), p. 39, as reported in Constructing Irregular Theology (2009) by Paul S. Chung, p. 13