A Quote by Geraldine Brooks

Despair is a cavern beneath our feet and we teeter on its very brink. — © Geraldine Brooks
Despair is a cavern beneath our feet and we teeter on its very brink.
Fear is like a black cavern that is terrifying. Once you enter the cavern and explore it, you realize that you can get out of it, go through it and get out of it. Then there's another cavern that is just as big and terrifying, and you just go in and dwell in it and see what is the worst that can happen.
Down the winding cavern we groped our tedious way, till a void boundless as the nether sky appeared beneath us, and we held by the roots of trees and hung over this immensity; but I said: if you please we will commit ourselves to this void and see whether providence is here also.
You always feel the ground rumbling beneath your feet, and if you don't, you're an idiot. Mostly because it is rumbling beneath your feet, and there is always someone who is coming up behind you who is as good, younger, and, at least as you perceive it, has more energy and more nimbleness than you.
Everyday, everywhere our children spread their dreams beneath our feet and we should tread softly.
We who fly do so for the love of flying. We are alive in the air with this miracle that lies in our hands and beneath our feet.
We've got no fairytale ending, in God's hands our fate is complete. Your heaven's here in my heart, our love's this dust beneath my feet.
No, see the slide’s too high. He could fall and get a concussion. (Wulf) Forget that. He could rack himself on the teeter-totter. (Chris) Teeter-totter nothing. The swings are a choking hazard. Whose idea was it for him to have this? (Urian)
The earth is mankind's ultimate haven, our blessed terra firma. When it trembles and gives way beneath our feet, it's as though one of God's checks has bounced.
Saint Augustine! well hast thou said, That of our vices we can frame A ladder, if we will but tread Beneath our feet each deed of shame.
If we tried To sink the past beneath our feet, be sure The future would not stand.
The large shiny black forehead of the first whale was no more than two yards from us when it sank beneath the surface of the water, then we saw the huge blue-black bulk glide quietly under the raft right beneath our feet. It lay there for some time, dark and motionless, and we held our breath as we looked down on the gigantic curved back of a mammal a good deal longer than the raft.
We spend our lives hurrying away from the real, as though it were deadly to us. It must be somewhere up there on the horizon, we think. And all the time it is in the soil, right beneath our feet.
I think right now in the world we're feeling like there's no solid ground beneath our feet, you know?
A bad earthquake at once destroys the oldest associations: the world, the very emblem of all that is solid, has moved beneath our feet like a crust over a fluid; one second of time has conveyed to the mind a strange idea of insecurity, which hours of reflection would never have created.
For perfect hope is achieved on the brink of despair, when instead of falling over the edge, we find ourselves walking on air.
When we walk upon Mother Earth, we always plant our feet carefully because we know the faces of our future generations are looking up at us from beneath the ground. we never forget them.
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