A man is not expected to love his country, lest he make an ass of himself. Yet our country, seen through the… — E. B. White Copy Share Image
“The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth… — Robert Jordan Copy Share Image
Our Lord's descent from the holy heights of the Mount of Transfiguration was more than a physical return from greater to lesser… — James E. Talmage Copy Share Image
As this world becomes increasingly ugly, callous and materialistic it needs to be reminded that the old fairy stories are rooted in… — Elizabeth Goudge Copy Share Image
As the evening mist worked its way into the scene, creating a warm filter through which the lowering sun bathed its light,… — Cory Trepanier Copy Share Image
“You do see me crossing the meadow stiff and dead from the mist? I long for that home, that home I've never… — Robert Walser Copy Share Image
Sometimes, it is true, a sense of isolation enfolds me like a cold mist as I sit alone and wait at life’s… — Helen Keller Copy Share Image
Tier on tier of beautiful mountains and streams Blue green vistas locked in white clouds The mist makes my bandana wet Dew… — Hanshan Copy Share Image
Midnight is another planet! When the clock strikes twelve and if you are asleep, wake up, friend, and discover the beauties of… — Mehmet Murat Ildan Copy Share Image
From the cab stepped a tall old man. Black raincoat and hat and a battered valise. He paid the driver, then turned… — William Peter Blatty Copy Share Image
A mist. A great mist. It covered the entire kingdom. And everyone in it - the good people and the not so… — Jane Yolen Copy Share Image
When a scene is shrouded in mist, it seems greater, nobler, and heightens the viewers' imaginative powers, increasing expectation - like a… — Caspar David Friedrich Copy Share Image
There rolls the deep where grew the tree. O earth, what changes hast thou seen! There where the long street roars, hath… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
I wonder what a soul…a person's soul…would look like,' said Priscilla dreamily. 'Like that, I should think,' answered Anne, pointing to a… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
The Himalayas make you insignificant. When you are trekking in the mountains of the Himalayas and finally you reach the top exhausted… — Victor Banerjee Copy Share Image
The idea of immortality, that like a sea has ebbed and flowed in the human heart, with its countless waves of hope… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
Love's secrets, being mysteries, ever pertain to the transcendent and the infinite; and so they are as airy bridges, by which ourfurther… — Herman Melville Copy Share Image
Life and the world, or whatever we call that which we are and feel, is an astonishing thing. The mist of familiarity… — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image
I took her hand in mine, and we went out of the ruined place; and, as the morning mists had risen long… — Charles Dickens Copy Share Image
“Ethereal mist lingered across the hushed landscape, shrouding a round moon, gossamer swans dancing across a lake of pearl. Yet, while it… — Gina Marinello-Sweeney Copy Share Image
You are never lost when you can see the temple. The temple will provide direction for you and your family in a… — Gary E. Stevenson Copy Share Image
When machines fail, when technology fails, when the conventional religion fails, people have got to have something. Even a zombin lurching through… — Stephen King Copy Share Image
I love the water. Everything about it. Smelling the humidity in the air, seeing the mist rise in the morning, feeling the… — Lori Foster Copy Share Image
Bloomberg weighed three hundred pounds. This itself was historical. I revered his weight. It was an affirmation of humanity's reckless potential; it… — Don DeLillo Copy Share Image
If you give your soul up to anything earthly, whether it be the wealth, or the honours, or the pleasures of this… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
The enthusiast has been compared to a man walking in a fog; everything immediately around him, or in contact with him, appears… — Charles Caleb Colton Copy Share Image
Nicholas Benedict did have an exceptional gift for knowing things (more exceptional, in fact, than most adults would have thought possible), and… — Trenton Lee Stewart Copy Share Image
Grief does not expire like a candle or the beacon on a lighthouse. It simply changes temperature. It becomes a kind of… — Adam Rapp Copy Share Image
Looking, touching, material, place and form are all inseparable from the resulting work. It is difficult to say where one stops and… — Andy Goldsworthy Copy Share Image
The heart sags. My footprints forget me. I don’t think anything will ever be the same. This is the edge of the… — Richard Jackson Copy Share Image
For me, fantasy and speculative science fiction are the genres that feel closest to how I feel about being alive. Like, when… — Brit Marling Copy Share Image
'Tell me one last thing,' said Harry. 'Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?' Dumbledore beamed at him,… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
Life knows us not and we do not know life—-we don’t know even our own thoughts. Half the words we use have… — Joseph Conrad Copy Share Image
The night crept on apace, the moon went down, the stars grew pale and dim, and morning, cold as they, slowly approached.… — Charles Dickens Copy Share Image
It was a morning of ground mist, yellow sunshine, and high rifts of blue, white-cloud-dappled sky. The leaves were still thick on… — Flora Thompson Copy Share Image
Did you not look upon the world this morning and imagine it as the boy might see it? And did you not… — Jamie O'Neill Copy Share Image
Today I sat before the cliff Until the mist and rainbows disappeared I followed the emerald stream Explored a thousand tiers of… — Hanshan Copy Share Image
“You entered my life as quietly as the morning mist, and just as silently, you slipped away. I cherish every moment we… — Shahid Hussain Raja Copy Share Image
The Osage have this lovely phrase: 'Travelers in the Mist.' It was the term for part of an Osage clan that would… — David Grann Copy Share Image
And when, in the evening of life, the golden clouds rest sweetly and invitingly upon the golden mountains, and the light of… — J. G. Holland Copy Share Image
