She reminded me of the sea; the way she came dancing towards you, wild and beautiful, and just when she was almost close enough to touch she'd rush away again.
Glenda MillardStichwörter: dancing touch sea wild beautiful close-enough rush-away
Oh, now my Erin, she'd smile down on me no matter where I walked." Grandpop smiled that little smile again. "But I'd be separated from her, and I'd feel that separation in my soul, you see?"
Nathan shook his head.
Grandpop sighed. "You have the Irish eyes, boy. One of these days, you'll see from eyes, not your own, feel with a heart outside your chest. Wild Irish eyes. Nathan. When you love, love well and love true, and take care, lad, because those Irish eyes are windows into not just your own soul, but the soul of the one you love." Grandpop looked out at his Erin's grave.
"And when you lose that heart, you can't leave the places where your memories are the best. And if I left her, I'd not be buried beside her.
Stichwörter: irish elite eyes wild card nathan leigh lora grandpop malone ops
If you're born with in the wild you run with the wild
Cristian L. MartinezStichwörter: life-and-living wild
The wild women in his lap,' my father enthused, 'laying their breasts on his head.'
There was a moment of stunned silence. Then my mother spoke slowly, with an edge to her voice. 'I think you mean "wild beasts laying their heads in his lap".'
'Do I?
Stichwörter: humor men sex humour wild breasts beasts the-name-of-the-wind
Her life was like a burst of wild, flowing Chinese calligraphy, written under the influence of alcohol.
Wei HuiStichwörter: life art love beauty sex danger wild
The wild begins where you least expect it, one step off your normal course
Bernard MalamudWounded?” was all I could manage. “Yes,” said Pat. “And you’re wounded in the same place. That’s what fathers do if they don’t heal their wounds. They wound their children in the same place.
Cheryl StrayedStichwörter: wild fathers-and-sons cheryl-strayed
Your Writing Teacher @WritingChief
If u don't get ur protagonist dirty, ur readers will get bored. Readers are wild, cliff-jumping, mud-wrestling savages. Become their leader. (anonymous on Twitter)
Stichwörter: leader wild protagonist mud-wrestling
But he is not always alone. When the long winter nights come on and the wolves follow their meat into the lower valleys, he may be seen running at the head of the pack through the pale moonlight or glimmering borealis, leaping gigantic above his fellows, his great throat a-bellow as he sings a song of the younger world, which is the song of the pack.
Jack LondonNever Be Still unless you're resting. If you're not at rest, you should be taking action.
Brian A. BrownStichwörter: inspirational inspiration black prince wild king author-brian-brown brian-a-brown brian-c-brown
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