Afternoon sun Quote by Diana Gabaldon Download Open image ““hooded against the afternoon sun that shone in his face.”” — Diana Gabaldon ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 4.2 out of 5 (6 ratings) Copy quoteShare Afternoon sun Sun
“His face was like the autumn sky, overcast one moment and bright the next.” — Joseph Conrad Copy Share Image
“The sun was hot on his back, but he barely noticed. It paled by comparison to the warmth that was seeping into his soul.” — Heather Burch Copy Share Image
“He had cheekbones that sliced right through the thick, golden afternoon sunlight.” — Sarah Gailey Copy Share Image
“Like my own personal sun, he was not only too radiant to look at directly, I also found myself more and more drawn into… — John Goode Copy Share Image
“The sun was catching his hair and lighting him up from the outside, and love was lighting him up from the inside.” — Jennifer Niven Copy Share Image
“On another occasion, he stared at the Sun for as long as he could bear, to determine what effect it would have upon his… — Bill Bryson Copy Share Image
“In the darkest of places, even the slightest glimmer of Light shines as the Sun.” — Raymond D. Longoria Jr Copy Share Image
“You think the sun rises over his left shoulder, but he's only standing there to eclipse the light.” — Ann Redisch Stampler Copy Share Image
“There is a darkened corridor, forgotten by the sun, shrouded in shadow and transgression.” — Michael Hibbard Copy Share Image
“The beauty of his face, artfully shadowed and lit from the fading firelight, it fairly stunned me.” — Juliette Miller Copy Share Image
Alright, all right," I said. "What if I tell you a story, instead?" Highlanders loved stories, and Jamie was no exception. "Oh, aye, "… — Diana Gabaldon Copy Share Image
There were moments, of course. Those small spaces in time, too soon gone, when everything seems to stand still, and existence is balanced on… — Diana Gabaldon Copy Share Image
If it was a sin for you to choose me . . . then I would go to the Devil himself and bless him… — Diana Gabaldon Copy Share Image
When I turned 35, I thought, 'Mozart was dead at 36, so I set the bar: I'm going to start writing a book on… — Diana Gabaldon Copy Share Image
I stagger out of bed, take the dogs outside, and then I'll get a Diet Coke and a couple of dog biscuits and go… — Diana Gabaldon Copy Share Image
“It was…hard. I didna call out, or let them see I was scairt, but I couldna keep my feet. Halfway through it, I fell… — Diana Gabaldon Copy Share Image
I discovered that, given the indescribable nature of what I write, the only way to sell it is to give people free samples. — Diana Gabaldon Copy Share Image
“We are bound,you and I, and nothing on this earth shall part me from you."One large hand rose to stroke my hair. "D'ye mind… — Diana Gabaldon Copy Share Image
I think characters are going to be, if not a reflection of the author, at least some refraction of some part of their personality. — Diana Gabaldon Copy Share Image
My husband asked me once why I read so many mysteries, and part of it is just intellectual, part of it is the joy… — Diana Gabaldon Copy Share Image
“My Da says you’re never drunk, so long as ye can hold on to the floor.” — Diana Gabaldon Copy Share Image
“Raw Living: Picking blackberries, beneath late afternoon sun; a sunset reminiscent of watermelon sangria, as the scent of honeysuckle accosts me and the ducks… — Brandi L. Bates Copy Share Image
“There was no movement around the discoloured walls, and Lucy turned the Land Rover about in a slow crawl, the tires crunching on the… — James Swallow Copy Share Image
“ Benvenuta a la Via dell’Amore,” he says, poking a bright pink lock with Ashlee + Jake written on it in white paint. “What… — Kristin Rae Copy Share Image
But they never last, the golden days. And it can be sad, the sun in the afternoon, can't it? Yes, it can be sad,… — Jean Rhys Copy Share Image
“before, has it?” Molly shook her head. “No. But I still want him home.” She smiled at the sight of her three children napping… — Ann Shorey Copy Share Image
“Twenty-seven years, Colin Hilliard thought, buttoning his suit as he strode out from under the cover of Balmoral’s carriage porch—the early afternoon sun shining… — Stephen England Copy Share Image
“A book alighted, almost obediently, like a white pigeon, in his hands, wings fluttering. In the dim, wavering light, a page hung open and… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
“The afternoon sunk into the tall grass growing on the roadside. The distant dome turned from coral to burnt umber, a final flash of… — Megan Rich Copy Share Image
The grapes on a score of rolling hills are red with autumn flame. Across Sonoma Mountain wisps of sea fog are stealing. The afternoon… — Jack London Copy Share Image
“People who live in big cities are deprieved, consciously or unconsciously, of those almost indefinable things on which our human sensitivity feeds, like the… — Margot Fonteyn Copy Share Image
“The cold wind blew unceasingly from the north: a violent wind, a merciless wind, a wind that crept inside your ears and pressed hard… — John Forrester Copy Share Image
“(visions) of strange cities, of sandy plains, of gigantic ruins, of midnight skies with strange bright constellations, of mountain-passes, of grassy nooks flecked with… — Mary Ann Evans Copy Share Image
