Swoop 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
theres-nothing-you-can-do-sirus-no-one-can-do-this-for-me-no-one-can-swoop-in-rescue-me-every-time-im-challenged-i-have-to-do-this-on-my-own-heather-brewer
superheroes-dont-often-get-their-powers-in-one-fell-swoop-its-like-superhero-puberty
fortunes-right-whore-if-she-give-aught-she-deals-it-in-small-parcels-that-she-may-take-away-all-at-one-swoop-john-webster
the-idea-that-somebody-else-is-going-to-swoop-down-play-fairy-godmother-role-is-pretty-unlikely-why-not-take-care-yourself-victoria-moran
the-quality-decision-is-like-welltimed-swoop-falcon-which-enables-it-to-strike-destroy-its-victim-sun-tzu
this-is-most-important-aviation-development-since-lindberghs-flight-in-one-fell-swoop-we-have-shrunken-earth-juan-trippe
may-winds-loving-friendship-swoop-in-leave-lasting-impressions-on-your-heart-tom-baker-tom-baker-aka-the-pondering-man
look-an-eagle-will-soar-swoop-down-spreading-its-wings-over-bozrah-in-that-day-hearts-edoms-warriors-will-be-like-heart-woman-in-labor-jeremiah-4922
when-planes-still-swoop-down-aerial-spray-field-in-order-to-kill-predator-insect-with-pesticides-we-are-in-dark-ages-commerce-paul-hawken
they-will-swoop-down-on-slopes-philistia-to-west-together-they-will-plunder-people-to-east-they-will-lay-hands-on-edom-moab-ammonites-will-be-isaiah-1114
a-circle-swoop-quick-parabola-under-bridge-archeswhere-light-pushes-througha-sudden-turning-upon-itself-thing-in-aira-dip-to-water-d-h-lawrence
impatiently-waiting-out-hunger-my-instinct-to-kill-got-stronger-my-wingspans-longer-my-guns-loaded-up-before-you-know-what-hit-you-i-jump-off-wire-mack-10
that-was-indeed-to-live-at-one-bold-swoop-to-wrest-from-darkling-death-best-that-death-to-life-can-give-thomas-bailey-aldrich
i-was-awkward-high-schooler-especially-in-early-high-school-i-had-middle-part-with-swoop-all-that-it-was-late-90s-aaron-tveit
he-was-mostly-leaping-tall-buildings-in-beginning-there-were-cases-where-he-would-leap-off-tall-building-swoop-down-at-that-point-he-would-look-like-he-was-flying-i-suppose-it-wa
in-birds-eye-view-you-tend-to-survey-everything-decide-on-particular-point-then-you-swoop-down-pick-it-up-in-worms-eye-view-you-dont-have-that-muhammad-yunus
theres-nowhere-you-can-aggregate-more-people-in-one-fell-swoop-than-broadcast-network-theres-no-place-you-can-build-star-quicker-than-you-can-on-broadcast-network
If you cannot understand my argument, and declare "It's Greek to me", you are quoting Shakespeare; if you claim to be more sinned against than sinning, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you recall your salad days, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you act more in sorrow than in anger; if your wish is farther to the thought; if your lost property has vanished into thin air, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you have ever refused to budge an inch or suffered from green-eyed jealousy, if you have played fast and loose, if you have been tongue-tied, a tower of strength, hoodwinked or in a pickle, if you have knitted your brows, made a virtue of necessity, insisted on fair play, slept not one wink, stood on ceremony, danced attendance (on your lord and master), laughed yourself into stitches, had short shrift, cold comfort or too much of a good thing, if you have seen better days or lived in a fool's paradise -why, be that as it may, the more fool you , for it is a foregone conclusion that you are (as good luck would have it) quoting Shakespeare; if you think it is early days and clear out bag and baggage, if you think it is high time and that that is the long and short of it, if you believe that the game is up and that truth will out even if it involves your own flesh and blood, if you lie low till the crack of doom because you suspect foul play, if you have your teeth set on edge (at one fell swoop) without rhyme or reason, then - to give the devil his due - if the truth were known (for surely you have a tongue in your head) you are quoting Shakespeare; even if you bid me good riddance and send me packing, if you wish I was dead as a door-nail, if you think I am an eyesore, a laughing stock, the devil incarnate, a stony-hearted villain, bloody-minded or a blinking idiot, then - by Jove! O Lord! Tut tut! For goodness' sake! What the dickens! But me no buts! - it is all one to me, for you are quoting Shakespeare.

Bernard Levin
if-you-cannot-understand-my-argument-declare-its-greek-to-me-you-are-quoting-shakespeare-if-you-claim-to-be-more-sinned-against-than-sinning-you-are-quoting-shakespeare-if-you-re
Fairy tales are about trouble, about getting into and out of it, and trouble seems to be a necessary stage on the route to becoming. All the magic and glass mountains and pearls the size of houses and princesses beautiful as the day and talking birds and part-time serpents are distractions from the core of most of the stories, the struggle to survive against adversaries, to find your place in the world, and to come into your own. Fairy tales are almost always the stories of the powerless, of youngest sons, abandoned children, orphans, of humans transformed into birds and beasts or otherwise enchanted away from their own lives and selves. Even princesses are chattels to be disowned by fathers, punished by step-mothers, or claimed by princes, though they often assert themselves in between and are rarely as passive as the cartoon versions. Fairy tales are children's stories not in wh they were made for but in their focus on the early stages of life, when others have power over you and you have power over no one. In them, power is rarely the right tool for survival anyway. Rather the powerless thrive on alliances, often in the form of reciprocated acts of kindness - from beehives that were not raided, birds that were not killed but set free or fed, old women who were saluted with respect. Kindness sewn among the meek is harvested in crisis... In Hans Christian Andersen's retelling of the old Nordic tale that begins with a stepmother, "The Wild Swans, " the banished sister can only disenchant her eleven brothers - who are swans all day look but turn human at night - by gathering stinging nettles barehanded from churchyard graves, making them into flax, spinning them and knitting eleven long-sleeved shirts while remaining silent the whole time. If she speaks, they'll remain birds forever. In her silence, she cannot protest the crimes she accused of and nearly burned as a witch. Hauled off to a pyre as she knits the last of the shirts, she is rescued by the swans, who fly in at the last moment. As they swoop down, she throws the nettle shirts over them so that they turn into men again, all but the youngest brother, whose shirt is missing a sleeve so that he's left with one arm and one wing, eternally a swan-man. Why shirts made of graveyard nettles by bleeding fingers and silence should disenchant men turned into birds by their step-mother is a question the story doesn't need to answer. It just needs to give us compelling images of exile, loneliness, affection, and metamorphosis - and of a heroine who nearly dies of being unable to tell her own story.

Rebecca Solnit
fairy-tales-are-about-trouble-about-getting-into-out-it-trouble-seems-to-be-necessary-stage-on-route-to-becoming-all-magic-glass-mountains-pearls-size-houses-princesses-beautiful
Suddenly, the man was thrown off her. Darcy looked around, but saw nothing. She rose up on her elbows to see the man climbing to his feet, shaking his head to clear it. His four comrades were looking up to the sky nervously. A huge, dark shape descended from the sky, vanishing quickly. Along with one of her attackers. Darcy was afraid to move and be taken as well. She remained still, her chest heaving. Another shape formed out of the dark sky. She could only stare openmouthed at the dragon coming right for her. Just before he touched down, the dragon shifted, taking the form of a man-a man that left her breathless and awestruck. There was no denying she was looking at a Dragon King. He stood naked, his hands at his sides while his gaze was riveted on the men who accosted her. The shadows kept much of him out of sight, but the streetlamps shed enough light of the hard sinew of his body that she wanted to see more. His lips peeled back in a snarl as he fought the four remaining men. He moved quickly, as if it were as effortless as breathing. The men began to throw huge bubbles of magic at the Dragon King. He dodged many of them. The few that hit him barely made an impact other than to infuriate him, if his bared teeth were any indication. The man-or whatever he was-who had stopped her in the pub was struck down with lethal force by the Dragon King. Darcy almost cheered, but it got lodged in her throat when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Had she not turned right then, Darcy would never have seen the second dragon swoop from the sky and wrap its talons around another of the men before flying away, crushing him. That left just two of her attackers. They and the Dragon King circled each other on the street. 'She's ours, ' one of the red-eyed men said. The Dragon King merely raised a brow. 'Think again, Dark.' More globes of magic flew from the two Dark, but the Dragon King was too fast. He came up behind one of the Dark and ripped out his spinal column. The same instant the dragon grabbed the other. Both Dark fell lifeless to the ground a moment later. Darcy hadn't moved a muscle in the few minutes that had passed. The need that had assaulted her earlier with the Dark was now gone. But she wasn't alone. The Dragon King's gaze turned to her. Darcy watched him standing in the glow of the streetlight, completely mesmerized by the dragon tat that ran from the King's right shoulder, under his armpit, and down his side to the top of his right thigh. The dragon's head was at the front of the man's shoulder and had his mouth open as if on a roar. He was rearing with his wings up and out. It was his long tail that stopped at the King's thigh. The King glistened with sweat that made his muscles gleam in the light. Darcy had the absurd notion to run her hands all over his body, learning the feel of his hard muscles and warm skin. Her gaze traveled down his wide chest to his washboard stomach and narrow waist. Then lower...

Donna Grant
suddenly-man-was-thrown-off-her-darcy-looked-around-but-saw-nothing-she-rose-up-on-her-elbows-to-see-man-climbing-to-his-feet-shaking-his-head-to-clear-it-his-four-comrades-were-
?Earn cash when you save a quote by clicking
EARNED Load...
LEVEL : Load...