The great pulsation of nature beats too in my breast, and when I carol aloud, I am answered by a thousand-fold echo.… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
What's the biggest thing you've zapped with a fireball?' I asked. 'That would be a tiger,'said Nightingale. 'Well don't tell Greenpeace,' I… — Ben Aaronovitch Copy Share Image
Now came still evening on, and twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad; Silence accompany'd; for beast and bird,… — John Milton Copy Share Image
What else can I do, a lame old man, but sing hymns to God? If I were a nightingale, I would do… — Epictetus Copy Share Image
Sweet was the sound, when oft, at evening's close, Up yonder hill the village murmur rose; There as I passed, with careless… — Oliver Goldsmith Copy Share Image
Death is a great price to pay for a red rose“, cried the Nightingale, "and Life is very dear to all. “… — Oscar Wilde Copy Share Image
You put a spell on the dog," I said as we left the house. "Just a small one," said Nightingale. "So magic… — Ben Aaronovitch Copy Share Image
Many books belong to sunshine, and should be read out of doors. Clover, violets, and hedge roses breathe from their leaves; they… — Robert Aris Willmott Copy Share Image
Night after night the nightingale came to beg for divine love, but though the rose trembled at the sound of his voice,… — Susan Kay Copy Share Image
I see that you believe in love such as the poets and romancers have represented... The poets represent love as the sculptors… — Alfred de Musset Copy Share Image
When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress… — Christina Rossetti Copy Share Image
In these days before antiseptics, doctors themselves also suffered high mortality rates. Florence Nightingale, a nurse during the Crimean War (1853-1856), watched… — Sam Kean Copy Share Image
He stretched out his hands as he sang, sadly, because all beauty is sad…The poem had done no ‘good’ to anyone, but… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
The chorus-ending from Aristophanes, raised every night from every ditch that drains into the Mediterranean, hoarse and primeval as the raven's croak,… — G. M. Trevelyan Copy Share Image
When I was 12 years old, I read 'Nancy Drew' mysteries and biographies of Madame Curie and Florence Nightingale and books about… — Joyce Maynard Copy Share Image
