Picturesque 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
pictures-must-not-be-too-picturesque
it-is-not-enough-to-photograph-obviously-picturesque
pioneers-may-be-picturesque-figures-but-they-are-often-rather-lonely-ones-nancy-astor-viscountess-astor
literature-like-gypsy-to-be-picturesque-should-be-little-ragged-douglas-william-jerrold
the-dirt-is-picturesque-i-dont-mind-louisa-may-alcott
sometimes-ones-imagination-can-be-more-beautiful-than-most-picturesque-beach-sa-tawks
all-world-over-picturesque-yields-to-pocketesque-herman-melville
there-is-no-picturesque-version-what-self-care-looks-like-its-different-for-every-person-who-wants-to-practice-it
fanatics-are-picturesque-mankind-would-rather-see-gestures-than-listen-to-reasons-friedrich-nietzsche
think-about-colors-weather-picturesque-as-scene-with-colorfast-crew-now-cambio
the-poverty-villages-is-almost-picturesque-from-windows-coach-that-is-not-stopping-andrew-miller
the-language-of-excitement-is-at-best-picturesque-merely-you-must-be-calm-before-you-can-utter-oracles
poverty-to-be-picturesque-should-be-rural-suburban-misery-is-as-hideous-as-it-is-pitiable-anthony-trollope
try-to-make-up-your-mind-what-you-wanna-do-picturesque-as-scene-with-colorfast-crew-now-cambio
modernized-by-tin-roofs-tshirts-third-world-poverty-is-no-longer-picturesque-mason-cooley
to-real-artist-in-humanity-what-are-called-bad-manners-are-often-most-picturesque-significant-all-walt-whitman
lapped-in-poetry-wrapped-in-the-picturesque-armed-with-logical-sentences-and-inalienable-words
detroits-industrial-ruins-are-picturesque-like-crumbling-rome-in-18thcentury-etching-p-j-orourke
ye-lover-picturesque-if-ye-wish-to-drown-your-grief-take-my-advice-visit-ancient-town-crieff-william-topaz-mcgonagall
the-landlord-colonial-days-may-not-have-been-greatest-man-in-town-but-he-was-certainly-bestknown-often-most-popular-ever-most-picturesque-alice-morse-earle
the-old-world-england-was-picturesque-safe-in-way-that-la-wasnt-but-it-was-amazingly-socially-cruel-i-had-never-experienced-that-in-america-never-in-school-nowhere
what-you-wanna-do-picturesque-as-scene-with-colorfast-crew-now-dont-be-afraid-to-ask-maybe-you-will-find-out-the-wonderful-stories-that-you-left-cambio
wherever-modern-science-has-exploded-superstitious-fable-even-picturesque-error-she-has-replaced-it-with-grander-even-more-poetical-truth-george-perkins-marsh
never-was-there-dingier-uglier-less-picturesque-city-than-london-it-is-really-wonderful-that-much-brick-stone-for-centuries-together-should-have-nathaniel-hawthorne
what-difference-does-it-make-if-you-live-in-picturesque-little-outhouse-surrounded-by-300-feeble-minded-goats-your-faithful-dog-the-question-is-can-you-write-ernest-hemingway
rome-is-stately-impressive-florence-is-all-beauty-enchantment-genoa-is-picturesque-venice-is-dream-city-but-naples-is-simply-fascinating-lilian-whiting
perspective-as-its-inventor-remarked-is-beautiful-thing-what-horrors-damp-huts-where-human-beings-languish-may-not-become-picturesque-through-aerial-george-eliot
it-was-piece-thoroughly-picturesque-proper-violence-i-like-violent-man-really-man-whos-bit-brute-in-decent-straightforward-way-iris-murdoch
i-believe-that-theres-more-to-life-than-what-i-see-and-i-believe-that-i-can-still-fly-with-my-broken-wings-i-believe-that-this-picturesque-beauty-will-larue
i-have-respect-for-family-pride-if-it-be-prejudice-it-is-prejudice-in-its-most-picturesque-shape-but-i-hold-it-is-connected-with-some-noblest-letitia-elizabeth-landon
i-live-in-my-house-as-i-live-inside-my-skin-i-know-more-beautiful-more-ample-more-sturdy-more-picturesque-skins-but-it-would-seem-to-me-unnatural-to-primo-levi
the-poor-are-always-ragged-dirty-in-picturesque-clothes-on-their-poor-shoes-lies-earth-lacustrine-period-and-yet-what-privilege-it-is-to-be-m-e-w-sherwood
in-all-these-sights-i-achieve-solace-only-in-bringing-forth-trees-picturing-them-blooming-like-smoke-from-roofs-gutted-buildings-dreaming-what-fine-picturesque-pile-rubble-this-c
if-shakespeare-be-considered-as-man-born-in-rude-age-educated-in-lowest-manner-without-any-instruction-either-from-world-from-books-he-may-be-regarded-as-prodigy-if-represented-a
one-had-heard-read-great-deal-about-death-even-seen-little-it-knew-by-heart-thousand-commonplaces-religion-poetry-which-seemed-to-deaden-ones-senses-veil-horror-society-being-imm
In the park which surrounded our house were the ruins of the former mansion of Brentwood, a much smaller and less important house than the solid Georgian edifice which we inhabited. The ruins were picturesque, however, and gave importance to the place. Even we, who were but temporary tenants, felt a vague pride in them, as if they somehow reflected a certain consequence upon ourselves. The old building had the remains of a tower, an indistinguishable mass of mason-work, overgrown with ivy, and the shells of walls attached to this were half filled up with soil. I had never examined it closely, I am ashamed to say. There was a large room, or what had been a large room, with the lower part of the windows still existing, on the principal floor, and underneath other windows, which were perfect, though half filled up with fallen soil, and waving with a wild growth of brambles and chance growths of all kinds. This was the oldest part of all. At a little distance were some very commonplace and disjointed fragments of the building, one of them suggesting a certain pathos by its very commonness and the complete wreck which it showed. This was the end of a low gable, a bit of grey wall, all encrusted with lichens, in which was a common doorway. Probably it had been a servants' entrance, a backdoor, or opening into what are called "the offices" in Scotland. No offices remained to be entered-pantry and kitchen had all been swept out of being; but there stood the doorway open and vacant, free to all the winds, to the rabbits, and every wild creature. It struck my eye, the first time I went to Brentwood, like a melancholy comment upon a life that was over. A door that led to nothing - closed once perhaps with anxious care, bolted and guarded, now void of any meaning. It impressed me, I remember, from the first; so perhaps it may be said that my mind was prepared to attach to it an importance, which nothing justified. ("The Open Door")

Margaret Oliphant
in-park-which-surrounded-our-house-were-ruins-former-mansion-brentwood-much-smaller-less-important-house-than-solid-georgian-edifice-which-we-inhabited-the-ruins-were-picturesque
It had all begun on the elevated. There was a particular little sea of roots he had grown into the habit of glancing at just as the packed car carrying him homeward lurched around a turn. A dingy, melancholy little world of tar paper, tarred gravel, and smoky brick. Rusty tin chimneys with odd conical hats suggested abandoned listening posts. There was a washed-out advertisement of some ancient patent medicine on the nearest wall. Superficially it was like ten thousand other drab city roofs. But he always saw it around dusk, either in the normal, smoky half-light, or tinged with red by the flat rays of a dirty sunset, or covered by ghostly windblown white sheets of rain-splash, or patched with blackish snow; and it seemed unusually bleak and suggestive, almost beautifully ugly, though in no sense picturesque; dreary but meaningful. Unconsciously it came to symbolize for Catesby Wran certain disagreeable aspects of the frustrated, frightened century in which he lived, the jangled century of hate and heavy industry and Fascist wars. The quick, daily glance into the half darkness became an integral part of his life. Oddly, he never saw it in the morning, for it was then his habit to sit on the other side of the car, his head buried in the paper. One evening toward winter he noticed what seemed to be a shapeless black sack lying on the third roof from the tracks. He did not think about it. It merely registered as an addition to the well-known scene and his memory stored away the impression for further reference. Next evening, however, he decided he had been mistaken in one detail. The object was a roof nearer than he had thought. Its color and texture, and the grimy stains around it, suggested that it was filled with coal dust, which was hardly reasonable. Then, too, the following evening it seemed to have been blown against a rusty ventilator by the wind, which could hardly have happened if it were at all heavy. ("Smoke Ghost")

Fritz Leiber
it-had-all-begun-on-elevated-there-was-particular-little-sea-roots-he-had-grown-into-habit-glancing-at-just-as-packed-car-carrying-him-homeward-lurched-around-turn-a-dingy-melanc
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