Moans 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
moans-and-scratching-in-the-dark
everyone-moans-about-collapsing-us-infrastructure
but-sometimes-at-night-when-the-cold-wind-moans
pain-pays-no-attention-to-moans-excuses-mason-cooley
the-ocean-moans-over-dead-mens-bones
there-is-no-pity-for-a-man-who-moans-about-living-in-one-town-and-does-not-move-to-another
great-brahma-from-his-mystic-heaven-groans-and-all-his-priesthood-moans-joseph-campbell
the-time-has-come-to-listen-to-frightened-moans-our-fellow-brothers-sisters-indeed-earth-itself-is-in-pain-marlo-morgan
quotes-aint-all-that-useful-fact-is-theres-more-concise-ways-to-express-what-youre-feelin-like-screams-moans-mc-humphreys
gyms-would-run-out-business-if-lovemaking-did-more-for-your-fitness-than-just-moans-groans-huffing-puffing-the-fitness-doc
its-all-farce-these-tales-they-tell-about-breezes-sighing-and-moans-astir-oer-field-dell-because-year-is-dying-paul-laurence-dunbar
where-to-start-everything-cracks-shakes-the-air-trembles-with-similes-no-one-worlds-better-than-another-earth-moans-with-metaphors-osip-mandelstam
a-minute-to-smile-hour-to-weep-in-a-pint-joy-to-peck-trouble-and-never-laugh-but-moans-come-double-and-that-is-life-paul-laurence-dunbar
some-reckon-their-age-by-years-some-measure-their-life-by-art-but-some-tell-their-days-by-flow-their-tears-and-their-lives-by-moans-their-hearts-abram-joseph-ryan
seafarers-are-used-to-being-exploited-at-sea-captain-moans-at-chandlers-who-supply-ships-with-green-bananas-that-will-never-ripen-at-fruit-that-goes-moldy-obscenely-fast-at-sub-s
the-oak-roars-when-high-wind-wrestles-with-it-beech-shrieks-elm-sends-forth-long-deep-groan-ash-pours-out-moans-thrilling-anguish-thomas-starr-king
kierkegaard-was-once-asked-what-is-poet-he-answered-that-poet-was-unhappy-man-whose-moans-cries-anguish-were-transformed-into-ravishing-music-langdon-brown-gilkey
i-bought-you-love-poetry-i-love-you-as-certain-dark-things-are-loved-secretly-between-shadow-soul-i-blink-at-him-neruda-i-starred-passage-god-he-moans-why-didnt-you-open-it-steph
the-wind-is-rising-on-seathe-windy-white-foamdancers-leapand-sea-moans-uneasilyand-turns-to-sleep-cannot-sleep-arthur-symons
old-man-sitting-on-handle-his-giant-sword-which-is-stuck-in-ground-he-cuts-them-land-sword-war-who-drinks-human-blood-he-divides-everything-in-country-nation-even-race-approachin
ive-never-liked-urban-myths-ive-never-liked-pretending-to-believe-in-them-never-understood-why-everyone-else-doesnt-see-straight-through-them-why-is-it-theyve-always-happened-to-
heres-what-happens-when-single-mom-meets-new-york-citys-hottest-fireman-then-seductively-as-if-he-received-instruction-not-from-fdnys-training-school-but-at-chippendales-he-slowl
Hold on to me!' Tedros yelled, hacking briars with his training sword.Dazed, Agatha clung to his chest as he withstood thorn lashes with moans of pain. Soon he had the upper hand and pulled Agatha from the Woods towards the spiked gates, which glowed in recognition and pulled apart, cleaving a narrow path for the two Evers. As the gates speared shut behind them, Agatha looked up at limping Tedros, crisscrossed with bloody scratches, blue shirt shredded away. 'Had a feeling Sophie was getting in through the Woods, ' he panted, hauling her up into slashed arms before she could protest. 'So Professor Dovey gave me permission to take some fairies and stakeout the outer gates. Should have known you'd be here trying to catch her yourself.' Agatha gaped at him dumbly. 'Stupid idea for a princess to take on witches alone, ' Tedros said, dripping sweat on her pink dress. 'Where is she?' Agatha croaked. 'Is she safe?' 'Not a good idea for princesses to worry about witches either, ' Tedros said, hands gripping her waist. Her stomach exploded with butterflies. 'Put me down, ' she sputtered- 'More bad ideas from the princess.' 'Put me down!'Tedros obeyed and Agatha pulled away. 'I'm not a princess!' she snapped, fixing her collar. 'If you say so, ' the prince said, eyes drifting downward.Agatha followed them to her gashed legs, waterfalls of brilliant blood. She saw blood blurring- Tedros smiled. 'One... two... three... 'She fainted in his arms. 'Definitely a princess, ' he said.

Soman Chainani
hold-on-to-me-tedros-yelled-hacking-briars-with-his-training-sworddazed-agatha-clung-to-his-chest-as-he-withstood-thorn-lashes-with-moans-pain-soon-he-had-upper-hand-pulled-agath
Through Rohan over fen and field where the long grass grows The West Wind goes walking, and about the walls it goes. What news from the West, oh wandering wind, do you bring to me tonight? Have you seen Boromir the Tall by moon or by starlight? 'I saw him ride over seven streams, over waters wide and grey; I saw him walk in empty lands, until he passed away Into the shadows of the North. I saw him then no more. The North Wind may have heard the horn of the son of Denethor.' Oh, Boromir! From the high walls westward I looked afar. But you came not from the empty lands where no men are. From the mouth of the sea the South Wind flies, From the sand hills and the stones; The wailing of the gulls it bears, and at the gate it moans What news from the South, oh sighing wind, do you bring to me at eve? Where now is Boromir the Fair? He tarries and I grieve. 'Ask me not where he doth dwell-so many bones there lie On the white shores and on the black shores under the stormy sky; So many have passed down Anduin to find the flowing sea. Ask of the North Wind news of them the North Wind sends to me!' Oh Boromir! Beyond the gate the Seaward road runs South, But you came not with the wailing gulls from the grey seas mouth. From the Gate of Kings the North Wind rides, And past the roaring falls And loud and cold about the Tower its loud horn calls. What news from the North, oh mighty wind, do you bring to me today? What news of Boromir the Bold? For he is long away. 'Beneath Amon Hen I heard his cry. There many foes he fought His cloven shield, his broken sword, they to the water brought. His head so proud, his face so fair, his limbs they laid to rest; And Rauros, Golden Rauros Falls, bore him upon its breast.' Oh Boromir! The Tower of Guard shall ever northward gaze To Rauros, Golden Rauros Falls until the end of days.

J.R.R. Tolkien
through-rohan-over-fen-field-where-long-grass-grows-the-west-wind-goes-walking-about-walls-it-goes-what-news-from-west-oh-wandering-wind-do-you-bring-to-me-tonight-have-you-seen-
At a lunchtime reception for the diplomatic corps in Washington, given the day before the inauguration of Barack Obama as president, I was approached by a good-looking man who extended his hand. 'We once met many years ago, ' he said. 'And you knew and befriended my father.' My mind emptied, as so often happens on such occasions. I had to inform him that he had the advantage of me. 'My name is Hector Timerman. I am the ambassador of Argentina.' In my above album of things that seem to make life pointful and worthwhile, and that even occasionally suggest, in Dr. King's phrase as often cited by President Obama, that there could be a long arc in the moral universe that slowly, eventually bends toward justice, this would constitute an exceptional entry. It was also something more than a nudge to my memory. There was a time when the name of Jacobo Timerman, the kidnapped and tortured editor of the newspaper La Opinion in Buenos Aires, was a talismanic one. The mere mention of it was enough to elicit moans of obscene pleasure from every fascist south of the Rio Grande: finally in Argentina there was a strict 'New Order' that would stamp hard upon the international Communist-Jewish collusion. A little later, the mention of Timerman's case was enough to derail the nomination of Ronald Reagan's first nominee as undersecretary for human rights; a man who didn't seem to have grasped the point that neo-Nazism was a problem for American values. And Timerman's memoir, Prisoner without a Name, Cell without a Number, was the book above all that clothed in living, hurting flesh the necessarily abstract idea of the desaparecido: the disappeared one or, to invest it with the more sinister and grisly past participle with which it came into the world, the one who has been 'disappeared.' In the nuances of that past participle, many, many people vanished into a void that is still unimaginable. It became one of the keywords, along with escuadrone de la muerte or 'death squads, ' of another arc, this time of radical evil, that spanned a whole subcontinent. Do you know why General Jorge Rafael Videla of Argentina was eventually sentenced? Well, do you? Because he sold the children of the tortured rape victims who were held in his private prison. I could italicize every second word in that last sentence without making it any more heart-stopping. And this subhuman character was boasted of, as a personal friend and genial host, even after he had been removed from the office he had defiled, by none other than Henry Kissinger. So there was an almost hygienic effect in meeting, in a new Washington, as an envoy of an elected government, the son of the brave man who had both survived and exposed the Videla tyranny.

Christopher Hitchens
at-lunchtime-reception-for-diplomatic-corps-in-washington-given-day-before-inauguration-barack-obama-as-president-i-was-approached-by-goodlooking-man-who-extended-his-hand-we-onc
?Earn cash when you save a quote by clicking
EARNED Load...
LEVEL : Load...