“Suffice to say, the dream writer had a way of phrasing things. She could depict the curve of a cucumber, the shape… — Meia Geddes Copy Share Image
And that taught me you can't have anything, you can't have anything at all. Because desire just cheats you. It's like a… — F. Scott Fitzgerald Copy Share Image
In winter we lead a more inward life. Our hearts are warm and cheery, like cottages under drifts, whose windows and doors… — Henry David Thoreau Copy Share Image
It is the life of the crystal, the architect of the flake, the fire of the frost, the soul of the sunbeam.… — John Burroughs Copy Share Image
To look upon its grass grown yard, where the sunbeams seem to sleep so quietly, one would think that there at least… — Washington Irving Copy Share Image
Trying to sneak a fastball by Ted Williams was like trying to sneak a sunbeam by a rooster in the morning, — Bob Feller Copy Share Image
It was hopeless. She was flawless. She was a sunbeam. Mosca gave up and got on with hating her. — Frances Hardinge Copy Share Image
Like the sweet moon keeps the sky Like the wind goin' whooshing by When those ol' sunbeams break the day I will… — Kathi Appelt Copy Share Image
How fast we learn in the day of sorrow! Scripture shines out in a new effulgence; every verse seems to contain a… — Horatius Bonar Copy Share Image
Ah, the souls of those that die Are but sunbeams lifted higher. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
The older women were Sunbeams and I guess we were Cherubs or Lambs, but our mothers were Nightingales. — Janet Flanner Copy Share Image
The sunbeams are welcome now. They seem like pure electricity—like friendly and recuperating lightning. Are we led to think electricity abounds only… — John Burroughs Copy Share Image
As our mother-earth is a mere speck in the sunbeam in the illimitable universe, so man himself is but a tiny grain… — Ernst Haeckel Copy Share Image
Futility Move him into the sun - Gently its touch awoke him once, At home, whispering of fields unsown. Always it woke… — Wilfred Owen Copy Share Image
Mont Blanc yet gleams on high: the power is there, The still and solemn power of many sights And many sounds, and… — Percy Bysshe Shelley Copy Share Image
