In friendships I had been most fortunate. Yet never saw I one whom I would call. More willingly my friend
Percy Bysshe ShelleyAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet
- Nationality: english
- Born: August 4, 1792
- Died: July 8, 1822
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A scan of the walls had the grin turning to a wince. Blue ribbons, medals, awards were all neatly framed and displayed. There were photographs of her in formal riding gear flying over jumps, smiling from the back of a horse or standing with her cheek pressed to her mount's neck. And in a thick frame was an Olympic medal. A silver. "Well hell. We'll make that two portions of crow," he murmured.
Nora Roberts
He chewed my head off about the "threadsoul," the "causal body," "ablation," the Upanishads, Plotinus, Krishnamurti, "the karmic vestiture of the soul," "the Nirvanic consciousness," all that flapdoodle which blows out of the east like a breath from the plague . . . he had worn himself out, like a coat whose nape is worn off.
Henry Miller
