Marshes Quote by Chris Wooding Download Open image “Once upon a time there was a young lady who lived in a marsh, and her name was Poison.” — Chris Wooding ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 2.5 out of 5 (8 ratings) Copy quoteShare Marshes Names Once upon a time Poison Time Young Young lady
“She grew up in the ordinary paradise of the English countryside. When she was five she walked to school, two miles, across meadows covered… — A.S. Byatt Copy Share Image
Her name was called Lady Helena Herring and her age was 25 and she mated well with the earl. — Daisy Ashford Copy Share Image
She was a girl and she was a queen and back in the mists she was a woman who had seized the moon from… — Laini Taylor Copy Share Image
She was a stirrer of the pot, a lover of intrigue and distress, a creature who seemed to draw oxygen from the spectacle of… — David Gilmour Copy Share Image
She was one of those people who was born for the greatness of a single love, for exaggerated hatred, for apocalyptic vengance, and for… — Isabel Allende Copy Share Image
She gazed toward the marsh that grew thicker, deeper, greener with approaching summer. Mosquitoes whined in there, breeding in the dark water. Alligators slid through it, silent death. It was a place where snakes could slither and bogs could suck the shoe right off your foot. And it was a place, she thought, that went bright and beautiful with the… — Nora Roberts Copy Share
“A poor old Widow in her weeds Sowed her garden with wild-flower seeds; Not too shallow, and not too deep, And down came April -- drip -- drip -- drip. Up shone May, like gold, and soon Green as an arbour grew leafy June. And now all summer she sits and sews Where willow herb, comfrey, bugloss blows, Teasle and… — Walter de la Mare Copy Share
“She alone was left standing, amid the accumulated riches of her mansion, while a host of men lay stricken at her feet. Like those… — Emile Zola Copy Share Image
Her name was Maude and she drank whisky all day from a fruit jar under the counter. — Flannery O'Connor Copy Share Image
Real life is a story, too, only much more complicated. It’s still got a beginning, a middle, and an end. Everyone follows the same rules, you know. . . It’s just that there are more of them. Everyone has chapters and cliffhangers. Everyone has their journey to make. Some go far and wide and come back empty-handed; some don’t go… — Chris Wooding Copy Share
“Nothing's bigger than me!" Frey shouted back. "Me is all I've got.” — Chris Wooding Copy Share Image
“She was spared the slow, steady droplets of blood that began to spatter the beds, drip, drip, drip, painting the white sheets in shocked… — Chris Wooding Copy Share Image
But time has a way of stealthily deciding a person’s mind without her conscious knowledge, and as she studied and procrastinated, Poison found one… — Chris Wooding Copy Share Image
“Trudging off into a swamp in the middle of the night had seemed like a god idea at the time but, like most of… — Chris Wooding Copy Share Image
“You can’t tell half a tale, Poison. You can’t write half a book. Whatever you choose to do next will completely change the aspect of what has gone before. if you decided to suddenly kill your friends as they slept –“ Why would I do that?” Poison interjected. Bear with me,” Fleet said patiently. “If you did, then the tale… — Chris Wooding Copy Share
Then a person has only one tale?” No, some have two or three separate ones or more,” Fleet said. “Some people have many tales.… — Chris Wooding Copy Share Image
“Ain't no deserving, or otherwise,' Silo said, his bass voice rolling out from deep in his chest. 'There's what is, and what ain't, and… — Chris Wooding Copy Share Image
There, in the center of that silence was not eternity but the death of time and a loneliness so profound the word itself had no meaning. For loneliness assumed the absence of other people, and the solitude she found in that desperate terrain had never admitted the possibility of other people. She wept then. Tears for the deaths of the… — Toni Morrison Copy Share
I read a lot of ghost stories because I was writing a ghost story. I didn't think at all I was writing a horror… — Susan Hill Copy Share Image
One June evening, when the orchards were pink-blossomed again, when the frogs were singing silverly sweet in the marshes about the head of the Lake of Shining Waters, and the air was full of the savor of clover fields and balsamic fir woods, Anne was sitting by her gable window. She had been studying her lessons, but it had grown… — Anonymous Copy Share
As the Arabs say, "The nature of rain is the same, but it makes thorns grow in the marshes and flowers in the gardens. — Anthony de Mello Copy Share Image
It was a spring without voices. On the mornings that had once throbbed with the dawn chorus of robins, catbirds, doves, jays, wrens, and scores of other bird voices there was now no sound; only silence lay over the fields and woods and marsh... Even the streams were now lifeless... No witchcraft, no enemy action had silenced the rebirth of… — Rachel Carson Copy Share
Thus I began my systematic though half-bewildered tour of Innsmouth's narrow, shadow-blighted ways. Crossing the bridge and turning toward the roar of the lower… — H. P. Lovecraft Copy Share Image
I was glamorous because of magicians like George Folsey, James Wong Howe, Oliver Marsh, Ray June, and all those other great cinematographers. I trusted… — Myrna Loy Copy Share Image
Science keeps religion from sinking into the valley of crippling irrationalism and paralyzing obscurantism. Religion prevents science from falling into the marsh of obsolete… — Martin Luther King, Jr Copy Share Image
Believing is a fine thing, but placing those beliefs into execution is a test of strength. Many are those who talk like the roar… — Khalil Gibran Copy Share Image
It cannot but affect our philosophy favorably to be reminded of these shoals of migratory fishes, of salmon, shad, alewives, marsh-bankers, and others, which… — Henry David Thoreau Copy Share Image
Everyone loves his own country, customs, language, wife, children, not because they are the best in the world, but because they are his established property, and he loves in them himself, and the labor he has bestowed on them. The working of revolutions, therefore, misleads me no more; it is as necessary to our race as its waves to the… — Johann Gottfried Herder Copy Share
And I needed a rock. Something to hold onto, to stand on. Something solid. Because everything was going soft, turning into mush, into marsh,… — Ursula K. Le Guin Copy Share Image
