Iris all hues, roses, and jessamine Reared high their flourished heads between, and wrought Mosaic; underfoot the violet, Crocus, and hyacinth with… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Must you know that yours will be the “better” picture before you pick up the brush and paint? Can it not simply… — Neale Donald Walsch Copy Share Image
You could slap his wrist for saying it, but then he said it with his face, and you could spank him for… — Jonathan Franzen Copy Share Image
What in your life is calling you, When all the noise is silenced, The meetings adjourned... The lists laid aside, And the… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
Wouldn't you be mad if I told you to give up on someone you cared about? Just... hand her over to someone… — Rachel Vincent Copy Share Image
To consider what other people might say is hardly a good reason to take action or to defer it. You have your… — Gregory Maguire Copy Share Image
Who would deduce the dragonfly from the larva, the iris from the bud, the lawyer from the infant? ...We are all shape-shifters… — Diane Ackerman Copy Share Image
I Must warn you, Iris, that I'm not a believer. And though I'm sure that the revelations of other men must be… — Gore Vidal Copy Share Image
This unlikely story begins on a sea that was a blue dream, as colorful as blue-silk stockings, and beneath a sky as… — F. Scott Fitzgerald Copy Share Image
I sometimes used to ask myself, what on earth did I love her for? Maybe fore the warm hazel iris of her… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
I'm for a multi-racial world in which each race keeps to itself, in harmony with the other races. Like in a garden,… — Savitri Devi Copy Share Image
In a swamp, as in meditation, you begin to glimpse how elusive, how inherently insubstantial, how fleeting our thoughts are, our identities.… — Barbara Hurd Copy Share Image
And that's when Anna realized that what the wolf had been asking Bran for was death. Impulsively, Anna stepped away from Charles.… — Patricia Briggs Copy Share Image
If you do not apologize to Lady Honoria,” Marcus said, his voice so mild as to be terrifying, “I will kill you.”… — Julia Quinn Copy Share Image
The immaterial blue colour shown at Iris Clert's in April had in short made me inhuman, had excluded me from the world… — Yves Klein Copy Share Image
Thanksgiving. It proved you had survived another year with its wars, inflation, unemployment, smog, presidents. It was a grand neurotic gathering of… — Charles Bukowski Copy Share Image
Will’s eyes met Tessa’s as she came closer, almost tripping again over the torn hem of her gown. For a moment, they… — Cassandra Clare Copy Share Image
