Close Calls Quotes
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Evening by evening. Among the Brookside rushes, Laura bow'd her head to hear, Lizzie veil'd her blushes: Crouching close together. In the cooling weather, With clasping arms and cautioning lips, With tingling cheeks and fingertips."lie close," Laura said, Pricking up her golden head:"We must not look at Goblin men, We must not buy their fruits: who knows upon the soil they fed. Their hungry thirsty roots?"Come buy," call the Goblins. Hobbling down the glen
Christina G. Rossetti
Again, stepping nearer, he besought her with another tremulous eager call upon her name. 'Margaret!'Still lower went the head; more closely hidden was the face, almost resting on the table before her. He came close to her. He knelt by her side, to bring his face to a level with her ear; and whispered-panted out the words:? 'Take care.? If you do not speak? I shall claim you as my own in some strange presumptuous way.
Elizabeth Gaskell
Though frankly… Tarnapol, as he is called, is beginning to seem as imaginary as my Zuckermans anyway, or at least as detached from the memoir-ist – his revelations coming to seem like still another “useful fiction,” and not because I am telling lies. I am trying to keep to the facts. Maybe all I’m saying is that words, being words, only approximate the real thing, and so no matter how close I come, I only come close.
Philip Roth
He said his friend Victor called it a lucky charm, and that it kept him safe in Iraq."She felt her pulse pick up tempo, and she brought her face close to Ben's."Did you say Victor called it a lucky charm?"Uh-huh." Ben nodded. "That's what he said."Are you sure?"Of course I'm sure."Beth stared at her son, feeling at war with herself.
Nicholas Sparks
Art too is just a way of living, and however one lives, one can, without knowing, prepare for it; in everything real one is closer to it, more its neighbor, than in the unreal half-artistic professions, which, while they pretend to be close to art, in practice deny and attack the existence of all art - as, for example, all of journalism does and almost all criticism and three quarters of what is called (and wants to be called) literature.
Rainer Maria Rilke
The path trodden by wayfarers and pilgrims followed the railway and then turned into the fields. Here Lara stopped, closed her eyes and took a good breath of the air which carried all the smells of the huge countryside. It was dearer to her than her kin, better than a lover, wiser than a book. For a moment she rediscovered the meaning of her life. She was here on earth to make sense of its wild enchantment and to call each thing by its right name, or, if this were not within her power, then,...
Boris Pasternak
Brian closed the condition book, pressed his fingers to his tired eyes. Like Paddy, he wasn't quite sure he trusted the computer, but he was willing to fiddle with it a bit. Three times a week he spent an hour trying to figure the damn thing out ith the notion that eventually he could use it to generate his charts. Graphics, they called it, he thought, shifting to give the machine a suspicious glare. Timesaving and efficient, if you believed all the hype. Well, tonight he was to damn tired to...
Nora Roberts
Above all, one hideous figure grew as familiar as if it had been before the general gaze from the foundations of the world - the figure of the sharp female called La Guillotine. It was the popular theme for jests; it was the best cure for headache, it infallibly prevented hair from turning gray, it imparted a peculiar delicacy to the complexion, it was the National Razor which shaved close: who kissed La Guillotine looked through the little window and sneezed into the sack.
Charles Dickens