Do you think me horselike, my lord?"
Realizing the threat to his personage, Blackmoor wiped the smile from his face and replied, "Not at all. I said I think you charming."
"A fine start."
"And I appreciate your exuberance." His eyes glitered with barely contained laughter.
"Like that of a child." Hers sparkled with irritation.
"And, of course, you are entertaining."
"Excellent. Like the aforementioned child's toy."
He couldn't hide a chuckle. "Not at all. You are a far better companion than any of the toys I had as a child."
"Oh, I am most flattered."
"You should be. I had some tremendous toys.
Stichwörter: alex blackmoor season
There is no season and no reason for love. Love is not seasonal its perennial.
Amit AbrahamStichwörter: love reason season perennial
Our wings serve as flippers that carry us across the ocean; not in the sky!
Why, us penguins have so much fun time in the water, we don't even want to fly!
Stichwörter: life nature winter flying swimming bird season penguin
It is easy to forget now, how effervescent and free we all felt that summer. Everything fades: the shimmer of gold over White Cove; the laughter in the night air; the lavender early morning light on the faces of skyscrapers, which had suddenly become so heroically tall. Every dawn seemed to promise fresh miracles, among other joys that are in short supply these days. And so I will try to tell you, while I still remember, how it was then, before everything changed-that final season of the era that roared.
Anna GodbersenStichwörter: memories summer dawn season
Tonight I can smell the season the way it's usually only possible to at the very first moments of its return, before you're used to it, when you've forgotten its smell, then there it is back in the air and the flow of things shifting and resettling again.
Ali SmithStichwörter: memory smell season first-days flashback
It is always in season for old men to learn.
AeschylusStichwörter: learning men old season
I do not know why there is this difference, but I am sure that God keeps no one waiting unless He sees that it is good for him to wait. When you do enter your room, you will find that the long wait has done you some kind of good which you would not have had otherwise. But you must regard it as waiting, not as camping. You must keep on praying for light: and of course, even in the hall, you must begin trying to obey the rules which are common to the whole house. And above all you must be asking which door is the true one; not which pleases you best by its paint and paneling.
C.S. LewisStichwörter: waiting timing season
Summer was on the way; Jem and I awaited it with impatience. Summer was our best season: it was sleeping on the back screened porch in cots, or trying to sleep in the tree house; summer was everything good to eat; it was a thousand colors in a parched landscape; but most of all, summer was Dill.
Harper LeeStichwörter: inspirational scout summer landscape mockingbird season dill
The seasonal urge is strong in poets. Milton wrote chiefly in winter. Keats looked for spring to wake him up (as it did in the miraculous months of April and May, 1819). Burns chose autumn. Longfellow liked the month of September. Shelley flourished in the hot months. Some poets, like Wordsworth, have gone outdoors to work. Others, like Auden, keep to the curtained room. Schiller needed the smell of rotten apples about him to make a poem. Tennyson and Walter de la Mare had to smoke. Auden drinks lots of tea, Spender coffee; Hart Crane drank alcohol. Pope, Byron, and William Morris were creative late at night. And so it goes.
Helen BevingtonStichwörter: poetry writing writers night apple poets winter seasons tea april spring alcohol fall morris coffee autumn pope apples burns keats insomnia longfellow tennyson shelley hart-crane may milton september season auden nocturnal wordsworth byron de-la-mare schiller spender
Life changes, people come and go and seasons never last.
Karen kingsbury # Leaving
Stichwörter: life people leaving season
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