“Besides," Gwen added, fluffing the dress folds, "this thing took forever, so you're wearing it." "Wait you made this?" Isobel asked, distracted.… — Kelly Creagh Copy Share Image
Oh, these vast, calm, measureless mountain days, inciting at once to work and rest! Days in whose light everything seems equally divine,… — John Muir Copy Share Image
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch,"… — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
Travel by canoe is not a necessity, and will nevermore be the most efficient way to get from one region to another,… — John McPhee Copy Share Image
Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us- by that… — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
“Dancers churned around them like storm tossed flowers, their heads held to either side as they whirled with abandonment. “Look at them,”… — Kelly Creagh Copy Share Image
“Isobel's head popped up. "What does 'sagacious' mean?" "Sagacious," he said, writing, "adjective describing someone in possession of acute mental faculties. Also… — Kelly Creagh Copy Share Image
NOOOO!" On the screen, a woman's eyes bugged almost out of her head, and I tried not to scream. Tried not to… — James Patterson Copy Share Image
“I'll keep it," she said. "Then, when you get back, after you and the dark one are done making out and planning… — Kelly Creagh Copy Share Image
“Much like books, she could tell how voiceless things had provided a brand of companionship more compatible to his nature than human… — Kelly Creagh Copy Share Image
“She is the harbinger of nightmares as well as death, destruction, and insanity. Said to reign in an alternate dimension, a bleak… — Kelly Creagh Copy Share Image
Stories. They're everywhere...You never know where they start and you certainly don't know where they'll end. If they ever DO end. (Nevermore) — Linda Newberry Copy Share Image
Ah, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever! Let the bell toll!-a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river; And,… — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
The days of wine and roses laugh and run away like a child at playThrough the meadow land toward a closing doorA… — Johnny Mercer Copy Share Image
