Foxes Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
catch-for-us-foxes-little-foxes-that-ruin-vineyards-our-vineyards-that-are-in-bloom-song-solomon-215
take-us-the-foxes-the-little-foxes-that-spoil-the-vines-for-our-vines-have-tender-grapes
one-my-favorite-movies-is-the-little-foxes
roses-are-red-foxes-are-clever
they-shall-fall-by-the-sword-they-shall-be-a-portion-for-foxes
the-sec-now-is-3500-chickens-we-need-to-get-some-foxes-in-there-harry-markopolos
o-israel-thy-prophets-are-like-the-foxes-in-the-deserts
because-of-the-mountain-of-zion-which-is-desolate-the-foxes-walk-upon-it
children-picking-up-our-bones-will-never-know-that-these-were-once-as-quick-as-foxes-on-hill-wallace-stevens
ive-seen-deer-i-have-lots-woodchucks-on-my-property-and-bluebirds-foxes
the-only-thing-what-happens-in-houses-parliament-is-debate-about-foxes-badgers-moles-wayne-wignall
fleet-foxes-are-really-talented-band-they-make-beautiful-music
i-had-found-the-runaways-i-had-seen-foxes-i-decided-i-was-just-gonna-become-juvie-like-cherie-currie-courtney-love
we-communicate-like-burrows-foxes-in-silence-darkness-under-ground-we-are-undermined-by-faith-love-henry-david-thoreau
i-have-always-brought-home-stray-animals-everything-from-squirrels-to-wild-rabbits-to-foxes-turtles-amy-weber
any-boy-whod-love-sailboatpatterned-swimsuited-sausage-who-tames-rabid-foxes-would-be-wonderful-and-impossible-fanny-britt
an-election-is-coming-universal-peace-is-declared-and-the-foxes-have-a-sincere-interest-in-prolonging-the-lives-of-the-poultry
and-jesus-said-unto-him-foxes-have-holes-and-birds-of-the-air-have-nests-but-the-son-of-man-hath-not-where-to-lay-his-head
an-election-is-coming-universal-peace-is-declared-foxes-have-sincere-interest-in-prolonging-lives-poultry-t-s-eliot
i-thank-you-god-in-heaven-for-friends-margaret-elizabeth-sangster-join-the-company-of-lions-rather-than-assume-the-lead-among-foxes
and-jesus-saith-unto-him-the-foxes-have-holes-and-the-birds-of-the-air-have-nests-but-the-son-of-man-hath-not-where-to-lay-his-head
obsession-remains-price-creation-writer-who-declines-that-risk-will-come-up-with-nothing-more-creative-than-the-foxes-harrow-mrs-parkington
that-would-be-like-me-tellin-gosling-not-to-migrate-down-south-his-first-mature-season-you-got-to-go-got-to-theres-gonna-be-snakes-foxes-in-your-case-there-might-even-be-men-with
this-is-to-think-that-men-are-foolish-that-they-take-care-to-avoid-what-mischiefs-may-be-done-them-by-polecats-foxes-but-are-content-nay-think-it-john-locke
ive-built-tree-house-because-my-architectural-training-its-heavily-over-designed-with-oriel-window-sticking-out-it-flying-foxes-coming-off-it
shake-paws-count-your-claws-you-steal-mine-ill-borrow-yours-watch-my-whiskers-check-both-ears-robber-foxes-have-no-fears-brian-jacques
fleet-foxes-will-never-ever-under-no-circumstances-from-now-until-world-chokes-on-gas-fumes-sign-to-major-label-this-includes-all-subsidiaries-robin-pecknold
chickens-are-brave-till-foxes-come-at-night-mortals-are-courageous-till-death-comes-at-twilight-mehmet-murat-ildan
a-client-twixt-his-attorney-and-counselor-is-like-a-goose-twixt-two-foxes
we-love-lot-vampire-fiction-both-fiction-in-which-vampires-are-enemies-to-be-battled-stone-cold-foxes-to-be-dated
advanced-cultures-are-usually-sophisticated-enough-have-been-sophisticated-enough-at-some-point-in-their-pasts-to-realize-that-foxes-shouldnt-be-jane-jacobs
and-samson-went-and-caught-three-hundred-foxes-and-took-firebrands-and-turned-tail-to-tail-and-put-a-firebrand-in-the-midst-between-two-tails
many-foxes-grow-gray-but-few-grow-good
foxes-was-movie-that-didnt-do-lot-business-but-it-didnt-do-too-badly-critically-eventually-they-offered-me-other-things-the-interesting-thing-was-that-next-i-tried-film-called-st
lit-torches-let-foxes-loose-in-standing-grain-philistines-he-burned-up-shocks-standing-grain-together-with-vineyards-olive-groves-judges-155
so-many-days-oh-many-days-seeing-you-tangible-close-how-do-i-pay-with-what-do-i-pay-the-bloodthirsty-spring-has-awakened-in-woods-the-foxes-start-from-their-earths-serpents-drink
there-are-many-examples-where-species-share-common-plastic-traits-what-appears-to-be-convergence-may-just-be-plastic-response-organism-to-its-environment-examples-include-followi
Then Jip went up to the front of the ship and smelt the wind; and he started muttering to himself, "Tar; Spanish onions; kerosene oil; wet raincoats; crushed laurel-leaves; rubber burning; lace-curtains being washed-No, my mistake, lace-curtains hanging out to dry; and foxes-hundreds of 'em-cubs; and-" "Can you really smell all those different things in this one wind?" asked the Doctor. "Why, of course!" said Jip. "And those are only a few of the easy smells-the strong ones. Any mongrel could smell those with a cold in the head. Wait now, and I'll tell you some of the harder scents that are coming on this wind-a few of the dainty ones." Then the dog shut his eyes tight, poked his nose straight up in the air and sniffed hard with his mouth half-open. For a long time he said nothing. He kept as still as a stone. He hardly seemed to be breathing at all. When at last he began to speak, it sounded almost as though he were singing, sadly, in a dream. "Bricks, " he whispered, very low-"old yellow bricks, crumbling with age in a garden-wall; the sweet breath of young cows standing in a mountain-stream; the lead roof of a dove-cote-or perhaps a granary-with the mid-day sun on it; black kid gloves lying in a bureau-drawer of walnut-wood; a dusty road with a horses' drinking-trough beneath the sycamores; little mushrooms bursting through the rotting leaves; and-and-and-" "Any parsnips?" asked Gub-Gub. "No, " said Jip. "You always think of things to eat. No parsnips whatever.

Hugh Lofting
then-jip-went-up-to-front-ship-smelt-wind-he-started-muttering-to-himself-tar-spanish-onions-kerosene-oil-wet-raincoats-crushed-laurelleaves-rubber-burning-lacecurtains-being-was
Helen of Troy Does Counter Dancing The world is full of women who'd tell me I should be ashamed of myself if they had the chance. Quit dancing. Get some self-respect and a day job. Right. And minimum wage, and varicose veins, just standing in one place for eight hours behind a glass counter bundled up to the neck, instead of naked as a meat sandwich. Selling gloves, or something. Instead of what I do sell. You have to have talent to peddle a thing so nebulous and without material form. Exploited, they'd say. Yes, any way you cut it, but I've a choice of how, and I'll take the money. I do give value. Like preachers, I sell vision, like perfume ads, desire or its facsimile. Like jokes or war, it's all in the timing. I sell men back their worst suspicions: that everything's for sale, and piecemeal. They gaze at me and see a chain-saw murder just before it happens, when thigh, ass, inkblot, crevice, tit, and nipple are still connected. Such hatred leaps in them, my beery worshipers! That, or a bleary hopeless love. Seeing the rows of heads and upturned eyes, imploring but ready to snap at my ankles, I understand floods and earthquakes, and the urge to step on ants. I keep the beat, and dance for them because they can't. The music smells like foxes, crisp as heated metal searing the nostrils or humid as August, hazy and languorous as a looted city the day after, when all the rape's been done already, and the killing, and the survivors wander around looking for garbage to eat, and there's only a bleak exhaustion. Speaking of which, it's the smiling tires me out the most. This, and the pretense that I can't hear them. And I can't, because I'm after all a foreigner to them. The speech here is all warty gutturals, obvious as a slam of ham, but I come from the province of the gods where meaning are lilting and oblique. I don't let on to everyone, but lean close, and I'll whisper: My mothers was raped by a holy swan. You believe that? You can take me out to dinner. That's what we tell all the husbands. There sure are a lot of dangerous birds around. Not that anyone here but you would understand. The rest of them would like to watch me and feel nothing. Reduce me to components as in a clock factory or abattoir. Crush out the mystery. Wall me up alive in my own body. They'd like to see through me, but nothing is more opaque than absolute transparency. Look - my feet don't hit the marble! Like breath or a balloon, I'm rising, I hover six inches in the air in my blazing swan-egg of light. You think I'm not a goddess? Try me. This is a torch song. Touch me and you'll burn.

Margaret Atwood
helen-troy-does-counter-dancing-the-world-is-full-women-whod-tell-me-i-should-be-ashamed-myself-if-they-had-chance-quit-dancing-get-some-selfrespect-day-job-right-and-minimum-wag
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