Far Quotes (page 102)
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A sudden gust of rain blew over them and then another - as if small liquid clouds were bouncing along the land. Lightning entered the sea far off and the air blew full of crackling thunder. The table cloths blew around the pillars. They blew and blew and blew. The flags twisted around the red chairs like live things, the banners were ragged, the corners of the table tore off through the burbling billowing ends of the cloths.
F. Scott Fitzgerald
it may not always be so; and i saythat if your lips, which i have loved, should touchanother's, and your dear strong fingers clutchhis heart, as mine in time not far away; if on another's face your sweet hair layin such a silence as i know, or suchgreat writhing words as, uttering overmuch, stand helplessly before the spirit at bay; if this should be, i say if this should be-you of my heart, send me a little word; that i may go unto him, and take his hands, saying, Accept all happiness from...
E. E. Cummings
Burnside left even sooner, hard on the heels of a violent argument with Meade, an exchange of recriminations which a staff observer said “went far toward confirming one’s belief in the wealth and flexibility of the English language as a medium of personal dispute.”
The Civil War: A Narrative, Volume III: Red River to Appomattox, War is Cruelty
Shelby Foote
Supernatural is a dangerous and difficult word in any of its senses, looser or stricter. But to fairies it can hardly be applied, unless super is taken merely as a superlative prefix. For it is man who is, in contrast to fairies, supernatural; whereas they are natural, far more natural than he. Such is their doom.
J. R. R. Tolkien
He was welcome everywhere he went, and was well-aware of his inability to tolerate solitude. He felt no inclination to be alone and avoided it as far as possible; he didn't really want to become any better acquainted with himself. He knew that if he wanted to show his talents to best advantage, he needed to strike sparks off other people to fan the flames of warmth and exuberance in his heart. On his own he was frosty, no use to himself at all, like a match left lying in its box.
Stefan Zweig
She suddenly saw Wimsey in a new light. She knew him to be intelligent, clean, courteous, wealthy, well-read, amusing and enamored, but he had not so far produced in her that crushing sense of inferiority which leads to prostration and hero-worship. But she now realized that there was, after all, something godlike about him. He could control a horse.
Dorothy L. Sayers
Not Waving but Drowning Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking And now he's dead It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way, They said. Oh, no no no, it was too cold always (Still the dead one lay moaning) I was much too far out all my life And not waving but drowning.
Stevie Smith
And wilt thou have me fashion into speech. The love I bear thee, finding words enough, And hold the torch out, while the winds are rough, Between our faces, to cast light on each? -I dropt it at thy feet. I cannot teach. My hand to hold my spirits so far off. From myself--me--that I should bring thee proof. In words, of love hid in me out of reach. Nay, let the silence of my womanhood. Commend my woman-love to thy belief, -Seeing that I stand unwon, however wooed, And rend the garment of my...
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
