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
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
There is an unseen sweetness in the stomach’s emptiness. We are lutes. When the sound box is filled, no music can come… — Rumi Copy Share Image
Sawbeaked epitome of bodiless Idea, tossed by gusts of ether, dive Through abstract mists and raid the sea of fact Eat rich… — Philip Jose Farmer Copy Share Image
They call them the haunted shores, these stretches of Devonshire and Cornwall and Ireland which rear up against the westward ocean. Mists… — Dodie Smith Copy Share Image
Like the ocean is your god-self; It remains for ever undefiled. And like the ether it lifts but the winged. Even like… — Khalil Gibran Copy Share Image
... a gaggle of old ladies is glued to the window at the end of the hall like children or jailbirds. They're… — Sara Gruen Copy Share Image
Home is behind, the world ahead, And there are many paths to tread Through shadows to the edge of night, Until the… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
White America has seen to it that Black history has been suppressed in schools and in American history books. The bravery of… — Huey Newton Copy Share Image
“When your voice is soft like snow, all the words you pick to show, that even your nothing can be a good… — Will Advise Copy Share Image
Before our globe had become egg-shaped or round it was a long trail of cosmic dust or fire-mist, moving and writhing like… — Manly Hall Copy Share Image
May every soul that touches mine - be it the slightest contact - get there from some good; some little grace; one… — George Eliot Copy Share Image
It doth not hurt", whispered a faint voice, "She will take you life and all you are and all you care'st for,… — Neil Gaiman Copy Share Image
Didn't you tie the mittens on her feet (Wednesday Evening's) extra special nice? Yes--she is an extra special nice pigeon. She cries… — Carl Sandburg Copy Share Image
Life has, indeed, many ills, but the mind that views every object in its most cheering aspect, and every doubtful dispensation as… — Lydia Sigourney Copy Share Image
Out of the silver heat mirage he ran. The sky burned, and under him the paving was a black mirror reflecting sun-fire.… — James Tabor Copy Share Image
It's a funny thing about bogs. You can fill them with rocks and sand and old logs and make a little fenced-in… — Tove Jansson Copy Share Image
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit… — John Keats Copy Share Image
Sit back picture yourself swooping up a shell of purple with foam crests of crystal drops soft nigh they fall unto the… — Robert Hunter Copy Share Image
Y is for YGGDRASIL. The legendary Nordic ash tree with its three roots extending into the lands of mortals, giants, and Niflheim,… — Harlan Ellison Copy Share Image
How sad, ye Gods, how sad the world is at evening, how mysterious the mists over the swamps! You will know it… — Mikhail Bulgakov Copy Share Image
Listening to the doves in Alfred, Georgia, and having neither the right nor the permission to enjoy it because in that place… — Toni Morrison Copy Share Image
There is nothing more poetic and terrible than the skyscrapers' battle with the heavens that cover them. Snow, rain, and mist highlight,… — Federico Garcia Lorca Copy Share Image
Before the world was made, when it was only darkness and mist and waters, God was well aware of Lake Wobegon, my… — Garrison Keillor Copy Share Image
“Tendrils of mist slithered over the forest floor, around the base of trees. Xander noticed that some of it had climbed the… — Robert Liparulo Copy Share Image
I headed for this white mountain, but was caught in the wind and the mist . . . I followed the cliff… — Louis Bleriot Copy Share Image
How innocent were these Trees, that in Mist-green May, blown by a prospering breeze, Stood garlanded and gay; Who now in sundown… — Siegfried Sassoon Copy Share Image
We desperately need seers who can see through the mist- Christian leaders with prophetic vision. Unless they come soon it will be… — Aiden Wilson Tozer Copy Share Image
Clambering up the Cold Mountain path, The Cold Mountain trail goes on and on: The long gorge choked with scree and boulders,… — Gary Snyder Copy Share Image
