Quotes 1241 till 1260 of 3899.
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Here tears and sighs speak his imperfect moan, In language far more moving than his own.
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Here we have been sitting down for a brief moment and you are already asking me if there are pictures of me in my drawers.
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Here's a more controversial idea: In general, Democrats and progressives ought to allow Trump considerable room to choose his own employees - far more room than Republicans allowed during the Obama administration. Tit-for-tat is a dangerous game.
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Here's Kanye, the great musical genius of his generation in hip hop, but, like, society really can't even deal with him because he's always saying something that people go, 'Oh, I can't believe Kanye said that. I can't believe he did that.'
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Here, with whitened hair, desires failing, strength ebbing out of him, with the sun gone down and with only the serenity and the calm warning of the evening star left to him, he drank to Life, to all it had been, to what it was, to what it would be. Hurrah!
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Him, who incessantly laughs in the street, you may commonly hear grumbling in his closet.
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His courtesy was somewhat extravagant. He would write and thank people who wrote to thank him for wedding presents and when he encountered anyone as punctilious as himself the correspondence ended only with death.
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His designs were strictly honorable, as the phrase is; that is, to rob a lady of her fortune by way of marriage.
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His failures are as valuable as his successes: by misjudging one thing he conforms something else, even if at the time he does not know what that something else is.
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His faith perhaps in some nice tenets might be wrong; his life, I'm sure, was always in the right.
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His father watched him across the gulf of years and pathos which always must divide a father from his son.
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His folly has not fellow
Beneath the blue of day
That gives to man or woman
His heart and soul away.A Shropshire Lad (1896) No. 14, st. 3 -
His friends he loved. His direst earthly foes - cats - I believe he did but feign to hate. My hand will miss the insinuated nose, mine eyes the tail that wagg'd contempt at Fate.
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His heart was as great as the world, but there was no room in it to hold the memory of a wrong.
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His heart was like a sensitive plant, that opens for a moment in the sunshine, but curls up and shrinks into itself at the slightest touch of the finger, or the lightest breath of wind.
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His huff arrived and he departed in it.
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His ignorance was as remarkable as his knowledge.
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His imagination conceived and bore - worlds; but nothing in these worlds became alive until he discovered its true and living name. The name was the breath of life; and, sooner or later, he invariably found it.
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