One June evening, when the orchards were pink-blossomed again, when the frogs were singing silverly sweet in the marshes about the head… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
What was that you gave me to eat?" Winter panicked. A Filler Crisp," Clover said, his eyes seventy percent concerned and thirty… — Obert Skye Copy Share Image
The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover, Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank, Conceives… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
I noticed that all the prayers I used to offer to God, and all the prayers I now offer to Joe Pesci,… — George Carlin Copy Share Image
A silence, the brief Sabbath of an hour, Reigns o'er the fields; the laborer sits within His dwelling; he has left his… — William C. Bryant Copy Share Image
There's no dew left on the daisies and clover; there's no rain left in heaven. — Jean Ingelow Copy Share Image
His Labor is a Chant - His Idleness -a Tune - Oh, for a Bee's experience Of Clovers, and of Noon! — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
Winter looked at Leven. Leven looked right back at her. Winter's cheeks burned red and her green eyes outshone Leven's. The two… — Obert Skye Copy Share Image
If you work, if you wait, you will find the place where the four-leaf clovers grow. — Ella Higginson Copy Share Image
Last of all came the cat, who looked round, as usual, for the warmest place, and finally squeezed herself in between Boxer… — George Orwell Copy Share Image
Oak, granite, Lilies by the road, Remember me? I remember you. Clouds brushing Clover hills, Remember me? Sister, child, Grown tall, Remember… — Gail Carson Levine Copy Share Image
Commemorative stone in the floor of the Chapel of St. George in Westminster Abbey, London, dedicated in 1947: TO THE MEMORY OF… — Robert Baden-Powell Copy Share Image
What airs outblown from ferny dells And clover-bloom and sweet brier smells. — John Greenleaf Whittier Copy Share Image
Nothing teems But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs, Losing both beauty and utility. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Into the air, over the valleys, under the stars, above a river, a pond, a road, flew Cecy. Invisible as new spring… — Ray Bradbury Copy Share Image
You're walking through a field all by yourself one day in spring and this sweet little bear cub with velvet fur and… — Haruki Murakami Copy Share Image
What a miserable thing life is: you're in clover; only the clover isn't good enough. — Bertolt Brecht Copy Share Image
I love discovering new young brands and watching these fashion lines take off, like Peter Pilotto, Christopher Kane, and Clover Canyon. — Gillian Jacobs Copy Share Image
What's that darkness over there?" Leven asked. "It's not good." Clover said. "Then what is it?" 'Bad," Clover suggested, sounding as though… — Obert Skye Copy Share Image
“The word miracle, as pronounced by Christian churches, gives a false impression; it is a monster. It is not one with the… — Ralph Waldo Emerson Copy Share Image
The answer to this riddle has a hole in the middle, And some have been known to fall in it. In tennis… — Trenton Lee Stewart Copy Share Image
I was talking to a Zen master the other day and he said, "You shall be my disciple."I looked at him and… — Alan Watts Copy Share Image
The fears of what may come to pass, I cast them all away, Among the clover scented grass, Among the new-mown hay. — Louise Imogen Guiney Copy Share Image
The dandelions and buttercups gild all the lawn: the drowsy bee stumbles among the clover tops, and summer sweetens all to me. — James Russell Lowell Copy Share Image
